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Hayle Coven Inheritance

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. The Challenge “Jagger Santos,” Coradine said, voice singsong and trying to be endearing while I gagged a little over her cutsie attempt to be coy. So gross. “This is the one I was telling you about.” He didn’t look at her, his hunger for the fight apparent. “Ethie Hayle,” he said, deep voice full of daggers. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” I could have said no. Just turned on my heel and left, walked away, got the hell out of there. Should have. It was one thing to fight my own coven for “fun” occasionally. A way to let off steam, to expend some of my pent up anger in a reasonably safe way that ensured if they didn’t like me, they at least stayed out of my way. But a witch from another territory? The Santos coven wasn’t exactly on GreatGram’s favorite list, either. This could only end badly. Ethie Hayle has spent her whole life sheltered by the coven, her powerful family and the fear that an unknown enemy could, at any moment, leap out of the veil and hurt her. Talk about smothering when all she wants is to have the freedoms her oh-so-special brother, Gabriel, seems to take for granted. But when a strange woman appears and offers her a gift, Ethie discovers the concerns her mother and great-grandmother have harbored aren’t all that ridiculous after all and that there are powers in the Universe she can’t imagine…

Patti Larsen · Fantasie
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123 Chs
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Chapter 87: What I'd Done

I finally got to lie down, would wonders never cease. They left me alone, even Piers, though I knew he wanted to give me a long, hard talk about what I'd done. I read it in his sorcery-did he know mine sniffed and prowled and lurked around his own, begging me for just the barest taste of what he had to offer? I doubted it. If he had, I was sure his horror wouldn't have been long in making itself known.

Then again, he was a sorcerer, too. Maybe this was the nature of it and I just wasn't used to being a power-sucking and hunger-driven kind of paranormal.

I could have asked him. Then again, broaching the subject seemed troublesome because if I did ask the question and he didn't know what I was talking about...

Mouth shut. Okay then.