Page 5 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

I’d never seen the Tribunal room so full as the space was typically reserved for Tribunal members and the select few they deemed worthy of their presence when they met. Even I’d only been permitted within the space a handful of times, none of which were memories I wanted to keep.

The day the Covenant deemed me the beauty of my generation of witches.

The day they shared the news of my betrothal.

The day they brought me in to give me my formal invitation to attend Hollow’s Grove.

There’d been maybe two other meetings where the children of Tribunal members were all present to be observed by the Covenant, studied for potential placements through our childhood.

As much as I might have dreamed of being one of the few Reds with high enough marks to be chosen to work in the apothecary in town, I knew it was an unlikely occurrence.

Daughters of Tribunal members were typically more active in the politics surrounding the town and its ordinances, even those who were not chosen to take over their mother’s Tribunal seat.

I wanted nothing more than to go play with potions and herbs, spelling them with the whisper of my magic so that I could give something back to those who wanted it, rather than keeping it eternally contained within me because I didn’t .

I glanced around the room, moving to take up space beside Della.

She glanced up at me, smiling softly as she reached down with a cautious hand to take mine in hers.

It was one of the first times she’d attempted to touch me, knowing how much I hated it, and I couldn’t help the subtle jolt that came with it.

Her skin was cool to the touch, the temperature of a refreshing lake on a hot summer’s night. I realized it was my skin that was overheating, my body already stressed from what might occur within these walls for it to be necessary for all of us to be present at once.

“I heard the winged bastard is giving you trouble,” she said, leaning sideways so she could whisper in my ear. Della was slightly shorter than me, making the whisper well-placed, and I hoped that no one could hear her.

I swallowed, my gaze immediately going to Beelzebub on the other side of the room.

The siren song should have meant that he was pulled to me, that he was the one who sought me out; the reverse wasn’t often true.

I shouldn’t have been able to pick him out in the crowd, shouldn’t have been able to sense where he was before my eyes ever found him.

I brushed it off, knowing it was likely just the power that radiated off him.

When you combined that with his formidable size, his massive black wings that were so reminiscent of the bats the Vessels were able to call to their aid, he exuded a presence that most of the men I’d encountered before him simply did not have.

“Where did you hear that?” I asked as members of the Coven continued to file into the room behind us, answering the call we’d all felt in our blood.

“Juliet was lurking in the back of the library,” Della answered with a blush, more openly discussing the Vessel she’d been involved with for months in secret.

With Willow and Headmaster Thorne’s relationship being public information now, it hardly seemed to matter what the Covenant had placed on us in terms of rules.

At least my friend was free to be with the woman she loved, even if she was a Vessel and I had concerns for how that would work out in the end. They were eternal and lived forever, whereas we were not and would age and die in time.

The people around us were restless as we waited for something to happen.

Lucifer and Willow were nowhere to be found, and I could see the rest of the Tribunal waiting for them within the inner circle of the room.

The thrones they occupied formed the outer boundary, the sound within muffled so we could not hear the irritated words they spoke, but their body language conveyed the manner of the conversation.

“She should probably mind her own business,” I said, hating the snap within the words. The knowing stares of others on me as I watched Beelzebub said that Juliet wasn’t the only one who had seen our interaction, and that the others had been far less discreet in who they told about it.

Beelzebub turned his attention away from the demon at his side, the only one who was bigger than him, with scaled skin on his forearms, and met my stare.

I expected a hint of the playfulness he’d shown at the tail end of our conversation in the library, or an arrogant curve of his eyebrow when he found me staring at him unabashedly.

Instead, the archdemon remained completely impassive. His arms were crossed over his chest, his body tense with what I had to assume was impatience. All gentle ease and humor had been erased from him overnight, and his expression was a stern glare as he waited for me to look away.

I did, unable to bear the hatred in that stare.

I didn’t know if my song had worn off somehow or if it was because of the song that his anger toward me seemed to have gotten worse since I’d fled the library for the privacy of my room, to his amusement.

I guessed it didn’t matter. All that mattered was hoping that his hatred would be enough to encourage him to control his impulses if the song hadn’t worn off, keeping him as far from me as possible, to my mother’s dismay.

My gaze wandered to her, finding her knowing smile as she watched him and swallowing against the implications of that.

“She was concerned for you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing, messing around with an archdemon?” Della asked, her voice gentle. It wasn’t judgment I heard, but I couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that bubbled in my throat.

“Says the one who’s dating a Vessel?” Della’s wince was almost enough to make me regret the bitter reprimand, forcing me to continue on. “What makes you think I’m a willing participant in this? He heard my song, so I’m just waiting it out,” I said, and Della nodded as if that made sense.

Our conversation was interrupted when Lucifer and Willow stepped into the open doors.

A hush descended on the chaos of the room at their appearance.

Willow held Lucifer by the elbow, allowing Him to lead her.

Something changed on her face as she approached.

Where before she’d appeared to be a defiant rebel every time she approached any kind of authority figure she didn’t respect, somehow that had shifted.

She no longer appeared the rebel. She held her head high and strode into the Tribunal rooms as if they were hers.

They walked straight up to the boundary that kept most of us from entering the center circle, not even pausing before entering it.

The boundary tugged at Willow, slowing her steps into a slow-motion sort of movie as tiny pinpricks of magic grated over her arms. I knew what that felt like, knew the pull of the magic drawing droplets of blood from needlelike wounds.

Her blood floated through the magic of the boundary as Lucifer watched her in rapt fixation.

All those individual droplets of blood gathered into a single large tear-shaped droplet, lingering in front of her as she raised a hand to rest beneath it. The boundary released her into the center circle, allowing her to step through and putting her into the middle of the Tribunal’s anger.

She ignored them for the briefest moment, turning her body to face where the rest of the Coven waited out of reach. We couldn’t hear what was being discussed within the boundary, but Willow smirked and winked at me as she met my stare.

With a sigh, dropping her attention to the droplet of blood within her hold, she whispered something to it, her mouth moving with the intention and incantation before she squished her hands together, splattering her blood along the magic of the boundary.

It burst, exploding in a rush of wind that made it so that sound finally reached my ears. Itan was ranting, his voice immediately putting me into a trauma response. I knew it for what it was, felt the shiver on my skin as I broke out in goose bumps.

I would have given anything to be able to leave that room, to escape his presence as Willow smiled at me reassuringly and turned her attention back to the ranting male witch that someone needed to silence.

Permanently.

I felt Beelzebub move closer to me as if he could sense the shift in my energy, but I couldn’t spare a moment of my attention for him. I couldn’t tear my eyes off Itan, watching where he lounged in his throne like some kind of savior to our kind when he deserved nothing but pain and suffering.

He deserved justice. He deserved karma, and one day, I wanted to be strong enough to send it all back to him.

“What is the meaning of this? You decorate your whore in the bones of the legacy we lost now?” Itan asked, waving a hand toward Willow and the bones lingering at her waist. It was the first moment so many within the Coven were learning the truth of Willow’s lineage, of the deception she’d committed when she came here to find the bones that no one thought she should need.

The legacy of the Hecate line had been lost to us for so long, not even the Covenant had seen her for what she was. A prophecy come to pass.

A reckoning come for us all.

Lucifer growled at Itan’s words, making Willow take a step forward.

She moved toward the abandoned Hecate throne, the bones at her waist clacking together as she walked.

It was a sound so reminiscent of the way Susannah and George’s feet had clacked against the stone floor that it triggered something in my memory, a parallel I wasn’t ready to connect.

They’d been nothing but bones, taking control for a witch who drew power from bones and death itself.

I shook my head, forcing myself to enjoy the moment for my friend as the blood gathered back with her as if it had never left her side. It moved with her toward the throne, following after her like she commanded it.

“What is lost can always be found, Itan,” Willow said, raising her chin and giving Itan a glare I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of.

Itan recoiled from her words, looking as if he’d been struck as he leaned back.

He recovered with a shake of his head, his mouth twisting into a snarl.

“Bullshit,” he said, tilting his face up in an arrogant challenge.

He’d left Willow with no choice but to reveal herself, forcing her to do the one thing that she would never be able to undo.

Shed the power that came with her anonymity.

She stepped up in front of the throne and stared down at the aging seat.

It was crafted of the bones of those who had come before her, the skeletal remains of the ancestors who had already come and gone.

Where the ones that were strapped around her waist were finger and hand bones, the throne had been remade from the femurs and rib cages and skulls of the oldest generations.

Willow paused for a moment to appreciate the significance.

She looked over her shoulder at Itan, smirking before she glanced toward Lucifer. She dropped her hand, allowing the blood she’d brought with her to splash all over the aging and yellowing bones.

“Congratulations. You can make a mess as well as any child attempting to play with the grown-ups. What was that supposed to prove?” Itan asked, his loyal followers barking out a peal of laughter from where they hid behind him, relying on him to protect them, which was a foolish endeavor entirely.

He would sooner offer them up as a sacrifice to save himself.

As she turned to face him fully, her lips pulled back over her teeth in a dark, menacing smile that was all power. “Are you completely unfamiliar with foreplay?” she asked, raising her hand and waving it in a lazy motion toward the bones that were now covered in her blood.

Covered in her magic.

The chair groaned, creaking as the bones began to shift, collapsing to the tile floor until the throne was gone.

“I don’t understand,” someone whispered, lacking the patience necessary to wait out Willow’s display of power. She knew better than most that anticipation was half of fear, that keeping them waiting and expecting her big reveal was half the fun.

She didn’t so much as look behind her as the bones clacked, their pieces groaning and smacking together as they reassembled themselves, standing on top of one another, into the body of a man, until his figure shifted forward to stand at her side.

Lucifer barked a laugh of pure joy, His enjoyment at the look of shock on Itan’s face rivaling my own. I couldn’t help the twisted smile that pulled my lips back, revealing all my teeth in a broad grin that felt completely unfamiliar.

“You.” Itan paused, looking back and forth between Willow and the creature she’d summoned from the dead. “But you’re a Madizza! I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

Willow turned her attention to the Madizza throne, lifting her dress and stomping a foot upon the floor.

The vines of the Madizza throne squirmed instantly, sliding out of places they’d been trapped for centuries.

The throne slid along the ground, shifting into nothing but a tangle of roses and vines and thorns as it made its way across the center of the Madizza circle.

It climbed the steps of the dais, centering itself where the two thrones of the Covenant had once been.

Willow nodded to the skeleton, earning a wordless nod back before it proceeded to the dais along with the vines. It crumpled to the floor on top of them, and we all watched in fixation and horror as the vines wound around the bones of Willow’s ancestors.

Uniting them as one.

They twisted and turned, maneuvering their way into a new throne. A throne of bones and blood and life.

Willow ascended the steps slowly, her flair for the dramatic admirable, and exhaled a single sigh. She turned and looked back at the Coven from her place on the dais, easing down into the seat that only she could occupy. “Anything else, Itan, or are you done questioning me now?”