Moving around isn't out of the ordinary for coven member Rosemary. She's moved from place to place her whole life with the coven, avoiding hunters and keeping her kind safe.
But this move is different. The hunters are getting smarter, and the coven...
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When you hear stories of witches, one does not think about the rich beach side town of New Haven Connecticut. The rich college kids with cargo shorts and button up shirts that scream "My daddy's a lawyer. I can park my Tesla anywhere." The land of Yale and preps. One hour and forty four minutes from NYC, and a place I didn't want to go.
Especially alone, but Gyn was busy, so all I had was an address and a name, I vague idea of what what to say and a drunken night of watching other people party pounded my head. I slammed the door of the Honda and breathed, I didn't look like I belonged in this town, in NYC everyone disappears, in New Haven, everyone is perfect and pretty and the girls where low cut banana republic pants and Gucci slides. I smiled at the thought, catching a glance of my face in the mirror, I looked crazy, I had my hair in a bun, my black tank top and flannel were a dark contrast against the sun that had decided to show its face today. My black pants and boots were a solid regret, sweat trickled down the center of my back, as I locked the car and turned towards the house.
It was a three story piece of historic art, with painted white support beams around the front poor and polished brick that glistened from the earlier rain. The many windows were closed and curtains were drawn. The front yard was professionally landscaped with beautiful flowers and shrubs, a stone walkway led to the front door.
"Well here goes nothing." I breathed in and walked forwards, my shoes crunching along the pathway, heels clicking onto the white porch. I pressed the golden door bell, hearing an old timey bell ring through the house. The door was the same white as the porch and beams to my sides.
The large door groaned open, heavy on its old hinges and the sound echoing through the house, the empty house. The place in front of the door was empty, a light tile floor with a red rug and a single pair of shoes next to the door.
I frowned. "Hello?" No answer came.
I stepped forward, listening. The room I stepped into was large and open, old oil paintings hung on the wall, women with small children sitting at their feet. The painting was marked with the latin words 'liberi fatali'
Children of hope Or a more literal translation is simply Fated.
Children in the covens were fated.
Something to my left down the hall moved and I reacted a second too slow. Two small arms hooked around my neck, looping a small body behind me, jerking my throat and throwing me aside. I hit the ground with a thud and a loud groan. I rolled just in time to catch a booted foot inches away from my face, I summoned my power and let out a scream of anguish, not able to find the person's face for a few moments.
A young girl steadied herself for a moment and then darted back towards me, only her feet didn't touch the ground, her hand shot out, fire engulfing her palm and fear in her pale blue eyes.
Switching into fighting mode, I was on my feet in a second, I caught the fiery arm with my own, I twisted, ignoring her scream of pain knowing I hadn't actually hurt her. It was still burning, and hissing against my skin as I built up my wards against her power, strangling, her power surging through her and trying to pull mine apart. Her feet slammed against the ground and she threw her body back against me, slamming me off balance, My but hit the ground and I tossed my hands up, surrendering.
