Page 17 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)

W aves crashed loudly against the bluff and the sky lightened pink as the morning sun continued to rise. I sat on the wing back chair next to the hearth, my legs tucked beneath me. I rested against the arm, which propped the Book of Shadows. The grimoire seemed to have been put together by hand. Instead of the expected musty-old-book smell, its scent was fresher, warming, and vaguely familiar. The book was clearly aged, but instead of decaying through the years, it was as if the binding was thriving with the generational knowledge within. Careful not to crack the spine, I opened the cover.

The first sheet of parchment was yellowed with age, and completely blank. Each subsequent leaf contained strange diagrams and charts—some showing the phases of the moon and sun and others the positions of constellations. Another page showed different measurements for melted wax from a burning candle. The book was filled with botanical drawings and descriptions of their properties and uses.

My hands shook with subtle adrenaline, and I focused on centering myself. As I fingered through the tome, the sheets became whiter, crispier. They held instructions for spells, sometimes up to three on a single page. Each ritual listed the necessary items and ideal times, whether it was per day or during the year, for when it was best to perform them. One of them only worked if you faced in a certain direction, while another needed to be implemented just after eating an overly ripened pomegranate. A few of the spells further intrigued me.

I came across a spell called “Feline Eyes,” which was meant to give you the ability to see well at night. “Incantation for a Lovely Day” helped avoid mishaps between waking and sleep. Then, there was a very long spell with no title. My fingers hovered over each word as I read its entirety. It appeared to be some kind of binding ritual. The instructions were acutely detailed. Though, one part was quite confusing—“ During the evening, whilst the sky is alight with flame… ” I couldn’t see how that was possible.

Each entry was signed by a different author. Some penned their names, while others wrote their initials. The most recent signature was the strangest: a symbol that resembled an arrow.

Something about the symbol made me feel lighter. While reading the inscriptions signed with the arrow, my heartbeat changed from racing with excitement from discovering the book to a calm rhythm that rocked me as if I was reading a bedtime story. I promptly flipped that page, looking forward to what could be next.

On standard ruled paper was a spell to get rid of unwanted guests. “ Drop a silver fork into a pail of water. Sprinkle the surface with pine needles and whisper their name to your reflection. ” I also read a nonverbal spell to change the color of flames, purely for the sake of entertainment. It reminded me of when our father would take Jeff and me camping. We would sit around the campfire, and I would giggle at the changing colors. The flames looked like a unicorn’s mane.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, jumping off my seat. I had seen that symbol before: the arrow. I dove for my phone and pulled up the collage I made for my mother’s funeral. Halfway down the grid, there were a few photos of me, Dad, Mom, and Jeff, in front of a waterfall. On the rock face, our dad let us carve our initials. Just under our dad’s initials, D.A., was that exact arrow symbol. “We are Archers,” he had said.

I pulled the book closer, flipping through the pages – spell to cast away bad memories, how to invoke a sweet scent, and a remedy for petty annoyances were all signed:

This couldn’t be...

In my hands, it wasn’t just any Book of Shadows, but my family’s. My father’s.

Neither Sarah nor Bridget answered their phones. My mind was racing, and pacing the library room was not therapeutic. I flopped back down into the chair, staring at my phone, hoping one of them would immediately call back.

“You alright?” Jeff leaned into the room. I quickly shoved the book between my back and the cushion. I wasn’t entirely sure why I hid it from Jeff, but it was instinct. So much of this world, where myths of magic no longer were just fantasy, was still unknown to me. I barely understood any of it, and I felt I had to protect Jeff from discovering even more of the truth about our family. He hasn’t handled the mundane truth of our mother possibly betraying our father very well, so who knows how he would react to this fantastical truth? His eyes caught my movements. “You good?”

“Yea, I’m fine.” I feigned a smile. “Did you leave any donuts?” I needed to push the conversation further away from what I had just uncovered. Our father was a witch.

“Duh.” He smirked as he lazily turned and walked away.

“Hey, RJ,” I called out for him. I heard him run from his room to the top of the stairs.

“What?” His clipped voice echoed from above. “I have a headache, and I’m painting.” I rolled my eyes, as if I had interrupted a genius at work.

“Oh, ok. I was just going to say bye.” I snorted. The attitude was only going to get worse as he got older, and I was not ready.

“Lock the door behind you,” Jeff barked from the hallway to the stairs. I walked to the foyer; the book tucked at my side. “I’m getting in the shower,” he took the stairs two at a time. Without looking back, he added, “Come to the docks if you need anything.”

Once I was alone outside, I double checked that the door was locked and pulled the book out in front of me. My hands hadn’t stopped trembling since I found it. As I sat in my car, I placed the book inside my Jansport. With the Book of Shadows tucked out of sight, the wave of this morning’s secrets surged within my senses. My head pulsated as a migraine began to churn, and I desperately needed caffeine to combat the ache. I headed to the Brew House as I tried to get ahold of Bridget and Sarah once again.

The crisp Autumn chill sharpened the breeze of the late summer morning. Leaves waved in hues of yellowing green while I drove along the coastal road. The smell of the sea hit my senses, and I felt reposed. As I rounded the bend to head up Peak Drive, I slammed on my brakes, nearly colliding with stopped emergency vehicles.

A fire engine, an ambulance, a tow truck, two police vehicles, and the fire marshal’s SUV were blocking most of the road. A man in uniform walked toward my car, and I rolled my window down even further. His black shirt had the fire department patch on the sleeve and the name “Peterson” stitched above the breast pocket. Although his face was still youthful, the tiniest bit of greying hair peppered the cropped beard along his jawline.

“That was close. I’m very sorry we didn’t have flares out there.” He looked pointedly over his shoulder at one of the police officers who immediately grabbed the case of emergency flares and jogged past my car.

“Peterson” turned his attention back to me. He placed a hand on the roof of my car and leaned to be at my eye level to flash a reassuring smile that made me swallow hard. “Are you ok?” His question threw me off guard. Of course, I was okay; I’m thanking my lucky stars. I wasn’t the person who was driving the overturned sedan a few yards in front of me.

I nodded. “What happened?” I forced my eyes off of his, a captivating blue, to crane my neck to see the stretcher being loaded onto the ambulance.

“We have a surprisingly large population of deer on the island. An impressive buck shot out in front of poor Lydia. She’s a little banged up, but she’ll be alright.” He never took his eyes off mine. I was suddenly self-conscious under the intensity of his gaze. “Once we get her out of here safely, you can go on your way.”

“Great, thank you.” My voice became huskier than I’d ever heard it, and suddenly, a warm buzz coursed through me, like my hormones sparked to life. It had to be the uniform. Along with his playful eyes, confident yet coy smile, and his sharp cheekbones…all I knew was that this man was delicious, and he wouldn’t stop staring at me. I quickly glanced at my rearview mirror, grateful that my reflection was in decent shape.

“I’m Griffin, Fire Marshal. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Raina,” I smiled, hoping I wasn’t drooling. “I just moved here.”

“Ah.” He paused as the ambulance pulled away. “Well, Raina, it’s been really nice to meet you.” He began to walk backward, still fixated on me. I caught myself biting my lip, internally cringing. “And I look forward to seeing you again,” he grinned, showing a dimple on his right cheek. I just about died. He got into his SUV and pulled away before I remembered what I had been doing in the first place. After gathering myself with a few deep breaths, I drove the rest of the way to Peak Drive.

This morning, the Brew House was pleasantly full, which hopefully meant it would be a necessary diversion. I scanned the room after I put in my coffee order. A booth in the corner was free, and I quickly claimed my territory. Full of cinnamon, my coffee filled me with heat on its way down. The novelty of being “new” seemed to have faded already. Most people merely gave a curt nod before returning to their own coffees. Careful of prying eyes, I placed the Book of Shadows on the table and took a picture of it. Texting the image to the group chat, I urged Sarah and Bridget to meet me at the coffee shop.

Containing the transcription of the magical lives of the Archers throughout the centuries, the book’s pages buzzed with the unheard voices of generations. The butterflies in my stomach would not cease. There was a comfort in the book’s weight while nested in my hands, like it belonged there.

I downed the rest of my coffee as I flipped through its pages. Noticing the empty cup as she walked by, the waitress leaned over and asked if I wanted a refill. I nodded as my hand hesitated to slam the book shut. She reached to receive the mug and asked, “Are you excited for the meteor shower Thursday night? I can’t wait! We’ve had cloudy skies for the last few, and it’s actually supposed to be totally clear the rest of this week.” She flashed a smile and walked away.

Meteor shower?

When the sky is alight with flame…

Pain seared my throat as I choked on a sip of the fresh scalding coffee. Coincidences were not nearly this elaborate. It became suddenly clear to me that I was meant to find the binding ritual, and that Bridget, Sarah, and I were called to form our circle. This might also be our only chance to perform the ritual, even if it meant painting a target on our backs. There is power in numbers, and like the girls first told me, Charmed had gotten at least something correct. Once bound together, the three of us would have stronger protection over each other, right? That’s Girl math, makes sense. Plus, whether we went through with it or not, Anabel insisted we were chosen , and I don’t plan to be a sitting duck if a curse was coming for us.

A woman with purple streaks through her mousy brown bob entered the cafe. As if her arrival brought in an air of clarity, a new realization hit me, creating even more questions.

If magic was real, and I was a witch, then at least half of the story the girls told me was true. What about the other half? Did it mean I was a Salem Witch? My dreams…the cove – it all had to mean something, but what? Was Black Sam Bellamy out there somewhere? Could one of us actually be the key to ending his suffering? If so, that would mean we were destined to find each other. All of us, including Black Sam. The vastness of what was impossibly at play here was overwhelming.

The blank screen of my phone was irritating. I urgently needed to talk to Bridget and Sarah. This was all too much. At that point, I couldn’t tell whether it was the influx of caffeine or the chance that all the urban legends I had been told about Redd Hills Island might be true, but I felt restless.

Gulping down my second cup of coffee, I stood to pay. Without warning, the woman with the purple streaked hair slammed into me, spilling her, thankfully, iced coffee down my back. Fortunately, the disaster missed the Book of Shadows altogether, which I had safely placed in my backpack.

“Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry,” I apologized, while hurrying to grab napkins from my booth. I froze the moment I saw her scowling face. If looks could kill, I’d have been flayed.

“Watch it, Lander!” she spat at me. “Go back to the mainland. You don’t belong here.” I was so taken aback by her unwarranted aggression that I stepped away from the woman. Immediately, Deja vu set in as I remembered my encounter with Tamara. “I mean, you clearly don’t understand how things work around here. I saw you earlier, by the way.” I frowned, trying to mentally retrace my steps as I stared at her. I registered every inch of her body language for a clue as to what the fuck she was talking about. That’s when I saw her utility pants and boots, then the obvious shield on her t-shirt, and it immediately clicked. She was a paramedic at the scene of the car accident. I had been so preoccupied by Griffin that I hadn’t noticed her.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated the apology, although this time with a less sweet tone, contorting my face in indignation. My voice hardened as I quipped, “Nice to meet you.” The sarcasm dripped with every syllable.

“You need to learn to keep to yourself more and stay the hell away from Griffin.” She snarled, her voice threatening. There was no mistaking her extremely unflattering jealousy.

I snorted, “Griffin came to me, if you remember correctly.” I picked up my backpack and left money for my coffee on the table. “Now, if something is going on between the two of you, please keep me out of it. He was just doing his job.” She didn’t accept that and opened her mouth to try to get in the final word. I pushed my way past her, and the barista waved me over.

“I’m sorry Agatha cornered you, please don’t worry about her. I hope you enjoyed your coffee.” She smiled sympathetically.

“Thank you, I did, and I left the bill with the money at the table.” She nodded with a small wave before I stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Across the street, Cole and Tamara were speaking in front of Daisy Chic. Well, it seemed more like arguing. Cole tried to leave, but Tamara grabbed his arm. She looked like she was pleading, and he was visibly angry as he pulled away. Feeling awkward, I quickened my pace, attempting to get to my block before they spotted me. In my peripheral vision, I saw Cole break free from Tamara and start walking right towards where I was already crossing the street. When he was a foot away, I panicked.

“Hi,” I said, forcing a smile.

Every fiber of my being screamed at me to run from him while simultaneously begging me to close the short space between us. A part of my brain refused to accept reality and nurtured the sliver of hope that Cole was really like the man in the dream. But Cole simply glared. He unlocked the Jeep in the parking space next to where I stood, got in, and drove away a little too fast. Back on the sidewalk, I could see Tamara pouting as she skulked back into the boutique.

Honestly, all of this morning’s events only indicated that, for the thousandth time, I do need more therapy. When it came to the type of men who captured my attention, it was evident I was repeating cycles. As quickly as I booted Nathan to the curb, I desperately began to find his replacement against my better judgment. I needed to get a grip on reality about Cole. And then there was Griffin, who was incredibly enticing, and my impulsive side wouldn’t mind seeing how things would go with him. Except I really don’t want any drama, and Agatha already seemed to have targeted me. However, Griffin could be the perfect way to get over the feeling of loss I have over real-life Cole.

Whether or not I wanted to believe differently, I was no one to Cole. Not a single second in the brief moments he and I met did I feel anything from him except annoyance and disdain. The only reason I could even humor Cole’s attention was due to the lingering memory of my cove dream.

It was this unbendable thread of feelings, the part of me that lived in the cove’s magic that held me with an inexplicable force. I glanced toward Cole’s car as he drove off and hopelessly wondered if I tormented his thoughts as much as he did mine.