Page 4 of How to Charm a Coven (How to Flirt with a Witch #2)

Not Dancing in a Dungeon

S o I’m too much of an outsider to be given earth magic and made a witch, but not enough of an outsider to be free from the coven’s justice system. How is that fair?

The SUV rumbles through downtown Vancouver, the familiar buildings and tree-lined streets whipping past the tinted windows. My skin stings as I pick glass from my sides, and I don’t bother trying to stop my blood from dripping onto the leather seats. Let them deal with the mess.

This is, again, not the way I wanted to return. I pictured less blood and more making out. Less “You’re under arrest” and more “Now that you’re back, we need your help saving the world!”

How humiliating. I made the coven sound so cool when I told Hazel about it, like it was this secret club I’d been inducted into. Now look at me.

I pick out another glass shard and grit my teeth against the pain, trying not to imagine how panicked Hazel must be .

The guilt hurts worse than anything. I didn’t want to drag her into another magical debacle. Once again, I’m failing at keeping both halves of my life separate.

Hayley’s eyes keep flicking to me in the rearview mirror, her demeanor softening. “We didn’t want it to go down like this.”

“Why did it have to go down at all?” I grumble. “I’m the reason you still have a coven to protect.”

“You think you saved us?” Fiona turns around in the passenger seat to face me. “Do you have any idea what a mess you’ve caused?”

“I’ve been reading the news.” Reports of strange animal sightings and phenomena have been hard to miss.

Fiona scoffs. “You don’t know half of it. A sinkhole spawning fish in an intersection. A beetle infestation decimating a botanical garden. A camel wandering down Robson Street. These are anomalies like we’ve never seen.”

My skin prickles as if detecting the magic she’s talking about. Or maybe that’s the glass shards.

Neil snorts beside me. “Makes cursed toaster ovens look like the good old days…”

Fiona shoots him a glare, and he shuts up.

“Not since the coven’s inception have we been so close to being exposed,” Fiona continues. “We’re one goddamn unicorn sighting away from having the existence of magic blown wide open.”

I’m uncomfortably aware that this is my fault.

But don’t they understand that letting the Madsens have free rein of all that caged magic would have been worse?

This magic can control people ‘right down to the neurons in someone’s brain,’ as Freddie explained.

“We would have much bigger things to worry about if I hadn’t done it,” I say.

“And I’ll have no problem defending my actions at my trial. ”

“Admirable,” Fiona says flatly. “But whatever reasons you had, you still broke your oath. ”

I scowl. I know I did the right thing, and I refuse to let them make me think otherwise. Alexanders don’t give up, as Dad always says. “I promised to protect magic, and sometimes keeping a promise means breaking the rules. I don’t regret what I did.”

Fiona huffs. “A chimera injured a child last week, Miss Alexander. I suggest you dig deep and find some semblance of regret.”

My gut twists. While I could argue that the Madsens would do a whole lot more harm…this doesn’t make me feel good, and it certainly doesn’t help my case.

We park in an alley that is nowhere near the Gastown steam clock, and my stomach lurches. Where are they taking me? This isn’t the entrance I’m familiar with.

Neil and Fiona flank me like prison guards when I climb out, each grabbing an elbow as if expecting me to bolt.

I look back, hoping to see Natalie’s car on our tail, but only strangers walk past the alley without a glance our way.

Not a single person notices three people in cloaks escorting a bloody young woman into a dark lane. Ah, the bustle of city life.

While Hayley drives off to park, the three of us march down the alley, stepping over litter and a splatter of something that looks a lot like vomit.

The familiar sensation of sinking through the earth overtakes me, and in the next breath, we’re in a long brick hallway, continuing walking without breaking stride. Though we’ve landed on solid ground, I feel like I’m still sinking, getting further from freedom with each step.

We must be at C.S.A.M.M.—the ivy-covered brick walls are familiar, and this is still within the downtown boundaries. But this isn’t the part of the subterranean complex I know. The air feels different here—cold, musty, like no one ever comes down this way.

We turn at a wooden door, which Fiona swings open to reveal a staircase descending into darkness.

Wait, another floor even deeper underground ?

I stop, my feet turning to lead. “Where’s Nat—”

Fiona tugs me forward by the elbow. “Keep moving.”

We go down, Neil still marching behind us. The air grows colder with each step, the damp stone walls pressing in. “How long will I be down here?” I hate how my voice shakes.

“Until we set a date for your trial.”

“So like…a couple days? Can I at least have my laptop? A toothbrush? Basic human rights?”

“As long as it takes.”

She’s being vague to scare me, which ignites a spark of anger in my chest that burns away the fear. “I helped you! When the Madsens were coming, I warned you! Without me, they’d be out there using bio magic for God-knows-what right now. Shapeshifting, mind control, murdering, amassing an army—”

“You can present your case to the jury.” Her voice is a little less sharp than a moment ago. “I know you helped us. But your actions surrounding bio magic were reckless and risked everything the coven stands for. Every action has a consequence, Katie, and yours happened to be incredibly dangerous.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I blink in the dim light. A row of cells lines one wall, iron bars gleaming dully.

“A dungeon? Really?” I wrench my arm away from her. “How disappointingly cliché of you.”

Fiona unlocks a cell and gestures for me to enter. “We haven’t had the budget for renovations.”

“Who else is down here?” My voice echoes strangely off the stone walls.

“You’re the only guest at the moment,” Fiona says.

I back up a step, bumping into Neil. The shred of bravery I summoned in the airport parking lot is leaving me. “You’re keeping me in solitary confinement ? What the fuck is wrong with you? ”

She raises an eyebrow. “Would you feel better if we moved a witch serial killer into an adjacent cell to keep you company?”

I don’t grace that with an answer.

My heart hammers. There’s a cot, a toilet, and a thin blanket and pillow. Home sweet home.

“Trials usually happen within a few days,” Neil says, casting Fiona a guilty glance, like he’s afraid of being shouted at for offering me a scrap of information.

“Thank you for the actual answer,” I say curtly. Forcing my feet to move, I step inside and turn around with my arms crossed. “Can Natalie visit me? Or am I limited to one carrier pigeon a day?”

Fiona regards me coolly. “That depends on whether she behaves.”

The cell door clangs shut, the sound rippling down my spine like ice.

She and Neil head back up the stairs, leaving me alone in the underground chamber. As the ring of the slamming door fades, the silence presses against my ears.

I sink onto the cot, wincing as my torn clothes rub my cuts and bruises. Leaning back against the cold stone wall, I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

I can get through this. The jury has to see reason at the trial.

Right?

The quiet smothers me, broken by a drip of water somewhere in the darkness and the thunder of my pulse.

It feels like a lifetime ago that I lived here among the witches.

Hoping the coven would accept me.

Thinking I was making progress.

What if they never do?

What if I’m always just the non-magical girlfriend that Natalie has to keep rescuing? She’s a powerful witch with a birthright and a legacy, and somehow, I’m dating her .

My throat constricts. How long before the constant battles become too much for her? Before she realizes she can have a less complicated relationship with another witch? Someone who is already a part of her world. Someone she doesn’t have to protect or explain things to.

I shake my head to dislodge these thoughts like water from my ears. Nothing productive can come from drowning in that fear right now. I have one path forward: come up with a good defense at my trial.

But a chill descends over the dungeon, and a shiver runs through me. I rub my arms, trying to stay warm. I knew the witches took the oath seriously, but I didn’t think we’d come to such a firm disagreement on what upholding the oath means.

What if they find me guilty no matter what I say or do?

What if this cell is the beginning of a much longer imprisonment?

I hug my knees to my chest, wishing for Natalie. Or Hazel, or my family, or Ethel. Just someone to talk to who is on my side.

The dungeon is so dark that spots bloom in my vision, dancing like ghosts. My chest tightens. I close my eyes and press the heels of my hands against my eyelids, trying to pretend I’m anywhere but here.

It was easy to picture my life with Natalie before all this—both of us working for the coven while I finish my degree.

Moving in together, sharing her suite. Weekends spent exploring the mountains or cozying up with books in the lounge when it rains.

More missions to neutralize curses and keep the world safe. Now that all feels like a fantasy.

There’s a bang, and I drop my hands to see light bathing the staircase. Footsteps thunder down. I jump to my feet, my heart in my throat.

“Katie!” Natalie’s voice hits me like a gust of warm air, tingling through my limbs. Even before I see her, that inner pull tugs at my core, and a warmth spreads through me that’s uniquely hers—like my body recognizes her on a deeper level than my other senses.