Read Cassie (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #3) Online

Authors: Virginia Hunter

Tags: #Top 10 Paranormal Romance, #sorcery, #Sex, #Dark fantasy, #Demon, #Paranormal Romance, #Steamy, #Urban Fantasy, #Warlock, #Thriller, #shapeshifter, #fantasy, #Wizard, #Magic, #Witch, #shifter, #mage

Cassie (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #3)

Cassie

The Coven’s Grove Chronicles

Book 3

by

Virginia L. Hunter

 

 

Copyright © 2016 Grove Publishing, LLC

All Rights Reserved

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or physical editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

Dedicated to my loving family.

Cassie

The Coven’s Grove Chronicles

 

 

 

Cassie may not have looked very tough at 5 foot 5, but looks can be deceiving. Ever since she was seventeen, she’d been strong, really strong...freakishly strong in fact. A lot of people might have seen her power as a boon. For Cassie, it was a curse.

A tragic home life sent Cassie spiraling out of control at a young age, and the less than desirable attitude that grew from her strife led to a tragic accident that put her on the run.

It’s five years later, and Cassie is still running. If her life would only slow down long enough for her to get some sense of stability, but just the opposite happens when she runs into Caleb Snyder, a blond-haired, blue-eyed hottie that does anything but slow life down.

As if life wasn’t hard enough, a fanatical cultist has Cassie in his crosshairs. The madman will stop at nothing to find her. So once again, Cassie is on the run, fearing for her life and with no hopes of finding a place to call home.

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Virginia L. Hunter

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The Coven’s Grove Chronicles

 

 

 

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T
endrils of smoke spiraled up into the darkness. The warehouse was too large for the small amount of light to banish the shadows entirely. A circle of candles provided the only light the acolytes had to see by, and provided the only protection from the pressing blackness that surrounded them. Their rhythmic chanting echoed softly off the corrugated steel walls in the distance, while an occasional muffled plea for help escaped the young woman that was to be their sacrifice. The arch devil they worshipped rarely spoke with his mortal followers directly, but he would bestow great gifts to those who offered him the most valuable of prizes—the human soul.

J’onn Kolosov looked down at the girl’s writhing body. She had been gifted with a voluptuous form that tempted him to arousal, but his focus was sharp, and his purpose true. He would not let his base urges distract him from the ritual. He tore his gaze from the girl’s naked body to examine the two other components he had painstakingly acquired over the past year.

The first was just a strand of hair, black as coal. The effort and resources J’onn had put into finding it had been considerable, but would ultimately be worth the inconvenience. The second was a piece of leg bone, and had been much easier to acquire. Cemeteries didn’t have as much security as a forensics storage facility after all. The components had come from two very different people, but were related in the fact that one had murdered the other. Both items revolved around an unsolved case involving a young girl, and her unfortunate high school teacher.

J’onn had studied many cases like this in his lifetime. Looking for that special something that would lead him and his brethren, to the objects they sought most in the world. He was certain that this particular incident held the evidence of a newly matured witch—the most prized acquisition of all.

A smile crept across J’onn’s face. He would not make the mistakes that the New York chapter had made not so long ago. A witch had escaped them, and through their sloppiness, a trail back to the founding members had been created. Loose ends had been forced to be tied.

In their foolishness, the New York chapter had summoned a Seeker to do their dirty work. Although the creature’s ability to sniff out the arcane was without equal, they were notoriously reckless, and drew far too much attention from their ghastly appearance and violence. J’onn would call something else from the pits of Hell. Something much more couth, and attractive to the human eye. If one had the correct components, a Seeker’s nose wasn’t necessary to track down a witch. The abomination he summoned would know its target, and where to find it, as if drawn like a bug to flame.

J’onn reached down and picked up the broken femur. It had snapped at an angle, giving one end a perfect edge for piercing.
How appropriate,
he thought. With his other hand he picked up the strand of long, dark hair. While his minions continued to chant, J’onn began to mumble in the archaic tongue that would open a door to the realm of hell. He deftly wrapped the hair around the bone, raising the pitch of his voice with every loop.

Once the dark acolyte’s cadence reached its climax, J’onn raised the bone over his head, and called out to his lord, Beelzebub. All fell quiet. Even the struggling young woman ceased her incessant pleading, though her eyes bulged in fear.

J’onn slammed the bone down on the young woman’s chest, just between her full breasts. She convulsed in pain, as the femur plunged into her flesh. He drove the ragged edge deeper, piercing her heart. She shuddered one last time, before going completely still.

J’onn continued to drive the splintered bone and hair into the dead woman, until they were completely encased within her body. He rose with bloodied hands. “Take our offering O’ Lord of the dark!” he yelled. “Bring forth your minion to taste her precious soul!”

The acolytes began chanting once more.

J’onn stared at the girl’s lifeless body, eager for his lord’s response.

Nothing happened.

Frustration surged through him as the girl’s body continued to lay there, unchanged. J’onn unsheathed his ceremonial dagger, and sliced open his own hand. He held it over the gaping hole in the young woman’s chest, squeezing blood from his wound. “Please Lord, bless us with your mighty gifts!”

The chanting of J’onn’s brethren became white noise, as the soft flesh of the girl’s belly finally rippled with movement. “Come to us!” he yelled. “Come and sate your hunger of the flesh!”

Several areas of the girl’s stomach distended, as if broken bones pushed outward to free themselves from her body. The skin stretched until it ripped open to reveal talons drenched in blood. The stench of sulfur and burning flesh filled the air, as the young woman began to bubble and melt. Elongated arms and legs that looked somewhat human, but more insect like, flexed with cords of stringy muscle, as the demon clawed its way out of her twisted body. Though its slime covered limbs and torso were quite grotesque, the monster’s visage proved to be the most disturbing. More human than the rest of its body, the demon’s face was distorted with overly large cheekbones, protruding brows, and wickedly jagged teeth. Pale skin, pulled too taut over bone, did its best to cover the long head and facial features, but was torn in many places, revealing a hard carapace underneath. And finally, the eyes. Lifeless black orbs that drew in the light, devouring it. The creature scanned the room hungrily.

“Welcome, Agent of the Dark,” J’onn said, as the demon’s gaze settled on him.

The creature hissed in triumph. Its head raised to the heavens in defiance. Without warning, the monster launched itself at the chanting acolytes, tearing them limb from limb.

J’onn waited patiently, as the demon gorged itself on his followers. Once more he found himself smiling. Not one of his acolytes had run in fear, such was their faith. It was a sign that his path was indeed true.

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