Warriors, p.1
Warriors, page 1
Warriors
The Librarian’s Coven, Book 2
Kathryn Moon
Contents
1. Callum
2. Joanna
3. Callum
4. Joanna
5. Joanna
6. Callum
7. Joanna
8. Callum
9. Joanna
10. Callum
11. Joanna
12. Callum
13. Joanna
14. Isaac
15. Callum
16. Joanna
17. Joanna
18. Aiden
19. Callum
20. Joanna
21. Joanna
22. Callum
23. Callum
24. Joanna
25. Joanna
26. Callum
Epilogue - Aiden
Continue with the Coven in Scrivens!
Also by Kathryn Moon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright 2018 Kathryn Moon
All Rights Reserved
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, business or events, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Dad, please stop telling your friends my penname.
It’s so awkward.
Chapter 1
Callum
“Do you know, I think Aiden could play music to your pacing.”
My feet stuttered and I spun, finding Isaac in the doorway to our front parlor.
“Are you rehearsing the part of the metronome for this evening?” he asked, mouth quirking up.
I wanted to ask him not to tease me, but that would be revealing a softer underbelly than I cared to share at the moment. “I’m impatient,” I said and then grimaced.
Isaac’s lips twitched again but I caught his eyes glancing out the hall to the front door. “You don’t say.” He watched me for another minute. I crossed the room as if I might find something on the other side of it to distract myself. He sighed and came to me, reaching his hands up to dig tension out of my shoulders. “She’ll be fine. There’s not an exam Gwen could throw at her she wouldn’t ace at this point. It’s only the first semester.”
“It’s not that,” I said, waving my hands through the air between us before stuffing them back into my pockets. I leaned forward and he wrapped his arms around me, a small surprised sound in the back of his throat.
“Your father will…” he trailed off, thinking about our upcoming trip.
I stifled a snarl into his shoulder. “Not that either,” I mumbled.
I didn’t want to think about what my father would have to say about Joanna. To Joanna. And I would happily put off thinking of it until the minute we stepped off the train in Dannsedge next week. Maybe not even until we reached the manor, depending on whether or not my father sent a car for us or met us at the station.
“You’ve got me stumped, Pike,” Isaac said, softening the flat tone with a kiss on the side of my throat.
I rolled my forehead over his shoulder for a moment, trying to shake off the anxious feeling, before pulling away.
“It’s our…our first showing, as a coven,” I said, shrugging. “Tonight, at Aiden’s concert.”
Isaac raised an eyebrow up at me. “Oh really?” he asked. “What was dinner at The Cup and Dagger last month? Or all those picnics on campus.”
“You know what I mean,” I said out, huffing a breath.
Isaac’s whole face stiffened for a moment before relaxing and I knew the tell too well. He was resisting the urge to roll his eyes at me.
“It’s an event,” I said, my voice rising in volume as if that might make me sound more reasonable. I knew it didn’t. “An event with school governors and our colleagues and-”
“The local elite, yes,” Isaac said, and this time he did let his eyes roll. “Why should that bother you?”
“They all know what Joanna has done, how…how rare she is.” Because when it was clear that there was no one in Canderfey who could write magic, we’d sent feelers out through Enmaire. And while friends of friends had heard the term Scribe, no one knew one. One other than Joanna.
“Do we really measure up?” I asked.
Isaac groaned, long and loud, his arms releasing me completely as he reached a hand up to rake fingers through his hair. “Don’t you dare start that,” he said pointing a finger at me, eyes wide. “You’ve been spending too much time with Joanna. Is it contagious? This- this whispering little voice asking about being worthy?”
My face felt hot and Isaac sighed, glaring at me out of the corner of his eyes. The hand in his hair came down over his face, dark strands following as he scrubbed the frown away, gathering a deep breath.
“If you think you’re any less rare,” Isaac started before interrupting the thought. “Or Aiden for that matter. Have you ever met another Aiden? Oh gods, now it’s started in my head. Poor me, a measly painter with a coven of precious jewels.”
A snort escaped me. I backed up to the couch and collapsed into the cushions. “Oh, fuck you,” I said, the words entirely half-hearted.
Isaac grinned at that, prowling forward like a cat. He pushed my shoulders back and I grunted as he landed roughly in my lap, knees around my sides. He kissed me hard on the mouth and I let him hear my groan of relief in exchange for the distraction.
“Everyone at the concert will know how lucky we are to have found Joanna,” Isaac purred against my lips. “Just as, while we listen to him play, they will know how lucky we are that Aiden waited for us. Just as you and I both know how lucky we are to have each other.”
“Mmm, that’s very sweet,” I said, a smile growing wider at the smug fullness in his cheeks.
“Yes, well, if I hear you mention a single hint of insecurity in front of Joanna tonight I will be considerably less sweet,” Isaac said, before taking another hard kiss, his teeth snagging over my bottom lip. “Honestly, the pair of you.”
“She should be back by now,” I said, glancing out the window.
“Has she written?” he asked.
I hummed, shifting to reach my back pocket and Isaac slid off my lap to my side. I pulled a small notebook out, the leather cover impressed with the four-pointed knot sigil for Coven. They had been her idea, a set of four notebooks, one for each of us. She’d written on the insides, For every word written, Every word appears inside, rotating the words across each of the four notebooks so the inside cover of mine said ‘every word’ in her spiky script. And it worked. We had a little way of communicating with each other, like students passing notes throughout the class time. I flipped past pages of our handwriting, questions about meals mixed in with tantalizingly intimate promises.
Been captured.
I coughed on air and Isaac leaned over to read the page, laughing.
By Hildy. No ransom yet. Please send help. But not before six-thirty this evening. And then a little lopsided heart.
“If Hildy has her then we’d better spruce up,” Isaac said, patting my chest and rising up from the couch. He held his hand out. “Come and shower with me, take the edge off.”
I stood up at that, the suggestion was enough to chase away any lingering nerves. But I preferred Isaac’s more hands-on methods if he was offering them.
Isaac and I were dressed fine enough to impress even Aiden—mostly in clothes he’d purchased for us as gifts—as we crossed the street and made our way to Woollard’s coven home. Our breath filled the air in white puffs and the last falling leaves before winter crunched under our feet.
I’d always found it interesting that with covenmates like Bryce Gast and Hildy Samanta, the group had taken Gwendolyn Woollard’s name. The university knew what a prize they had in their head librarian but in most circles the name was unknown, missing the social weight of the other witches in the family. Even Ito, loath as I was to admit it, was a fairly familiar… character. Respected, believe it or not.
I understood it a little better now. When I’d found Aiden and Isaac, I’d looked forward to throwing over Pike for King, Aiden’s name being the obvious choice. Now I wondered what he might think of our coven taking Joanna’s last name. Not that she had offered it, not that she was ready to think about marriages and coven names. Not that she was likely to agree, given her habit of shying away from any recognition. But I liked the idea of being known by her name.
Isaac knocked on the door and Bryce opened it as if they’d been waiting for us.
“You’re in trouble,” they said ominously, one pale eyebrow arched and sharp like a razor.
“How do they look?” Hildy called from deeper in the house.
“Tasty,” Bryce said, stepping aside to allow us entry.
“You look very elegant,” Isaac answered. He’d taken Bryce’s word as a compliment. I thought it might have been a threat.
“Yes,” Bryce said, smoothing a hand down the intricately embroidered overcoat that framed their thin limbs. The black fabric was covered in green and russet feathers and talons, birds swarming and devouring themselves down to where the hem skimmed the floor. It was a tight fit, buttoned down to Bryce’s narrow waist and flaring out to reveal pants that clung and glimmered like scales.
“Like a predator,” I added, and Bryce grinned widely at that.
“Come now, Hildy. Quit torturing the girl,” Gwen called up to the stairs, her arm linked with Tatsuo’s as they came down together, matching in a velvet blue so dark it may as well have been black.
“Torture?” Hildy squawked. Her head appearing around the corner, long black curls hanging over a jewel-studded shoulder. “I’m doing her a favor, as her friend.”
She disappeared as Tatsuo answered, brow furrowed. “You told her she was doing you a favor.” He glanced back at us to add, “Hildy has designed a new collection for the shop and Joanna is playing model for the evening.”
Hildy ‘hmph’ed from the top of the stairs, stunning and regal in emerald, gold vines crawling up the bodice of the dress, blossoming into glittering flowers at the neckline. “Yes, well, favors are much nicer when they’re tidy and rounded out, I think.”
I lost track of the conversation after that. Isaac too, if the sharp intake of breath was any indication. Joanna appeared at the top of the stairs behind Hildy, her hair pulled into a dark crown of braids around her head, leaving her neck long and shoulders bare. Her expression was terrified and stricken and for a moment all I could do was hunt through the house, sending out tendrils of magic to search for whatever threat had her frozen like an animal caught in a predator’s gaze. And then I grinned. It was the dress. She was terrified of the dress.
The bodice stretched in a straight line across her chest and around her arms, sleeves fitted snugly down to her small wrists. Sky blue and gold flowers fluttered down the pale yellow fabric like they’d been caught up in a breeze. Joanna was gathering the skirt up in her hands like she was afraid at any moment the fabric might disintegrate at her touch. In her defense, it did look especially diaphanous. Isaac nudged me as she took a few careful steps down, bright blue shoes peeking out from under layers of skirt.
She grabbed our outstretched hands gratefully when she could reach them, cheeks bright. I wondered if Hildy had wrestled Joanna into the dress or if the older woman had a trick for coaxing our covenmate into following her lead. Would she teach me?
“You are a work of art,” Isaac said, his thumb brushing over the back of Joanna’s hand.
My tongue went gummy instead of gallant and all I managed was, “Stunning.”
“I’m afraid to breathe,” Joanna said with an anxious laugh. And she sounded winded as she added, “Or move.”
“It’s charmed against little accidents,” Hildy assured her from behind us. “Of course, if someone were to intentionally rip it, I would expect them to be prepared to purchase.”
I smiled up at Joanna after the warning and her cheeks turned another shade darker of pink. I didn’t want to damage the dress, but I could almost guarantee that when Aiden saw her in it, he’d be determined to keep it for her. Hildy was probably expecting as much.
“Behave,” Joanna growled at me as she reached the floor. Isaac and I bumped into one another in our efforts to keep her close.
“Why warn me?” I asked.
“Because,” Isaac answered under his breath. “Every time you two are left alone in a room together, suddenly something starts crashing.”
Joanna and I grinned at each other, unrepentant, and I bent my head to nip at the curve of her neck.
“Don’t you dare leave a mark,” Hildy snapped and I sighed, my breath raising tempting little goosebumps on Joanna’s skin.
Tatsuo brought over a brilliant blue velvet coat and passed it to Isaac to do the honors of sliding the fabric up Joanna’s arms and over her shoulders.
“Come on, darling,” Gwen coaxed, as Bryce herded Hildy to the door. “We don’t want to be late and miss the good seats.” Over her shoulder, to Joanna, she added, “I want to see King’s face when he spots you in the audience.”
Joanna’s nose scrunched in an uncomfortable little grimace, lips firming. I wanted to kiss her, to smear a little of that lip stain, darker and richer than she usually wore, onto my mouth. But I was fairly sure Hildy would let Bryce take a chunk out of me if I did.
“How was the exam?” Isaac asked, settling our arms crossed over her back so she was snug between us.
“Gwen went too easy on me,” Joanna said, shrugging and then startling at the way fabric whispered against her skin.
“Never in my life,” Gwen snapped from ahead of us.
I stepped ahead of my covenmates so we fit through the front doors to leave the house, Joanna’s finger’s linking with mine. Two open carriages waited on the street in front of the house, with smartly dressed drivers and horses whose black coats gleamed.
“Are those for us?” Joanna whispered to Isaac.
“It seemed silly to hire cars for such a short distance, but we’re not walking through campus dressed like this,” Hildy called over her shoulder.
“She doesn’t trust me not snag my hem,” Joanna said under her breath. After a pause, she added, “Neither do I.”
As Woollard’s coven filled one carriage I turned and lifted Joanna into ours. Isaac and I hesitated, looking at the bench seat, and then Joanna smiled at us, placing herself in the center and patting either side. It was a squeeze to fit the three of us but it was worth the closeness.
Three months together and the impulse to keep near, stay in the spotlight of her affection, had yet to fade. At least I wasn’t alone. Isaac and Aiden orbited around Joanna as much as I did, the three of us drifting through the house together to find where she had landed. And we hadn’t worn out our welcome yet. She leaned into my side, pressed her knees to Isaac’s and twined her feet with his under the skirt of her dress.
“Gwen wants to keep me up in the staff library,” Joanna said and I craned my neck to catch the hint of a curve at the corner of her mouth.
“That’s a very good position,” Isaac said, his hands over her legs as she played with the buttons on the cuffs of his coat sleeves.
“Mmm,” she hummed, nodding.
“Have you thought more about focusing on study?” I asked.
Isaac and I held our breath to give her time to answer. We both had opinions. I thought she should be enrolled at Canderfey, learning as much about magic, her magic, as possible. Isaac agreed but was afraid she would either end up adapting her skill to one of the more familiar magical focuses or leaving the University in search of someone who could really teach her. Part of me thought she should, but I knew how easy it would be for me to follow her. I wasn’t sure how Isaac felt and I had a guess about Aiden. He wanted to be settled, building our home up and starting a family.
“I have,” Joanna said, the words very slow. I reminded my shoulders to stay relaxed as I waited. “Gwen thinks that there are texts she can hunt down through the University connections that might help me. I don’t know that I want to make it an official thing but I would like to study independently. Make my own coursework to follow and pursue.”
“There are advantages to the University’s introductory structure,” I said, on reflex. Isaac raised an eyebrow at me in warning and I swallowed the rest of the words down. I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t push or try to influence her, but the nudges slipped out when I wasn’t careful.
“I know,” she said, and she reached an arm back to stroke at my jaw. “Luckily I have three wonderfully talented and intelligent professors in my coven.” She still said the word ‘coven’ like it was a word she never expected her tongue to learn. “They should be able to help me round out my education.”
Isaac looked pleased, lifting her hand up from his sleeve to kiss at her palm. I felt a little nervous. Joanna had asked me to teach her how to tuck things away into invisible little pockets of space, an old charm I’d found when I was a student. For more than a month we’d lost one penny after another and hundreds of notes of paper in the effort. The lessons usually ended with her huffing away, frustrated with herself, or at least one of us naked in the effort to distract the other. She had small victories with the task now, keeping writing utensils handy, but resisted my efforts to practice with more challenging items.
