Rite of Passage

By Patti Larsen

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...
My very dear readers, welcome home to the Hayle coven. Your family is waiting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Dec 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781988700014

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Chapter One

I scrunched my nose against the faint scent of smoke and thyme as I squeezed between two witches who smiled on the outside but judged me with the weight of their following stares. How tacky to wear their black velvet robes to a family reunion. Leave it to the pair of old biddies no one liked to be so stupid formal at a party.

I wasn’t bitter or anything. What did I have to be resentful about? How about being paraded in front of the coven on a regular basis while my GreatGram made sure to embarrass me by calling out every single thing I did wrong or might do wrong or could do wrong some time down the line when she wasn’t watching?

Case in point. Ethpeal. She insisted on calling me by my full name when everyone else just used Ethie. I ground my teeth against the commanding tone of her mental voice, the grasping nature of her touch, and shrugged off the impulse to talk back. Because that had worked for me in the past, hadn’t it?

Sure it had. I really hated my life sometimes.

Yes, GreatGram. I snuck past a small knot of vampires who didn’t seem to care I was there, easing around the outside perimeter of the back yard at our house in Wilding Springs. I’d managed to make it this far without my great grandmother knowing I was here, but it seemed my attempt to escape would be met with about as much enthusiasm as my existence.

I haven’t seen you circulating with our guests. She could take those guests and… simmering unhappiness rose in the back of my throat at the nasty thought and I honestly regretted it the moment it passed through my mind. Most of the people I was sure I was so skillfully skirting I rather liked, at least when I had the chance to hang out with them on a one on one basis. Without all the baggage that went with being heir to the Hayle coven.

I’d trade it in a minute if it meant GreatGram would just leave me alone for once.

I’m in the kitchen. I winced at the lie, and then scrambled to cover it up. I didn’t mean to be dishonest, I swear. It was like a protective impulse, a need to hide from her and the way she emanated in no uncertain terms I wasn’t good enough. Lying felt awful, but I’d learned to do it just to get a moment’s peace. Which sucked on a lot of levels. Because she always caught me and when she did, I suffered the consequences.

Might I present yet another example of the weary life of Ethie Hayle? The instant the statement of untruth was out of my head and winging toward hers, I exited the relative shelter of three burly werewolves in tight leather and fur, grunting at each other in Ukrainian, to find myself face-to-face with the coven leader in question. I froze, gulped, backpedaled and hated myself for it. I was in the kitchen, I sent, stumbling over my words in my haste to fix the unfixable. I’m out here now.

I see. So much disappointment in those two words. I felt myself redden, my heart thudding in my chest. I was supposed to be the heir, revered and adored, right? Instead, I really, really wished I had any other life than this one. Anger burned inside me, my demon magic bubbling in rebellion as she just stood there, staring at me. The party went on around us, oblivious family and friends carrying on with their own happy existences while I did my best not to crumble under GreatGram’s powerful stare.

It didn’t help she didn’t like me. Why Mom let her raise and train me I’ll never know. Sure, GreatGram was the leader of the Hayle coven, but Mom should have filled that role, instead of allowing her own grandmother—a former broken and insane witch turned sorcerer turned witch again—to be so cruel to my mother’s only daughter.

Did I say I wasn’t bitter?

Sixteen never felt so frustrating. I didn’t think I’d survive two more years before I could kick the old bat to the curb. Okay, that was harsh, and I didn’t always feel that way about GreatGram. There were times she was actually nice, if guarded, and she was a fantastic teacher. I’d learned more from her than any of the other paranormal powers who were a huge part of my life. And I even felt some affection for her a time or two, if I was willing to admit it. She was my family, after all, and I knew she had the very best interest of the coven at heart.

My best interest.

Why then did we seem to clash like a pair of raging bulls just when I thought I might be able to put the past behind me and let those pesky bygones of irritation and frustration go bye-bye? Like right now, in this instant. With the two of us in our own little hell Universe of push and push back preparing to blow up all over the back yard, I really honestly wished I could just tell her where to go already.

Somewhere far, far away from me. Better yet, just let me escape and breathe and not have to play the happy heir for once when I really, really wasn’t.

Thank the elements for interruptions. Or maybe for intuition, understanding, kindness? Ameline appeared at my side, her hand sliding over my shoulder, a smile on her beautiful face. I knew the basics about her, that she’d once been part of a now defunct coven. Her unique life-death-rebirth cycle had changed her from the nemesis who threatened my family to a guiding, friendly force in my life. And while there were those who didn’t trust her because of that past, I did, with my life. Of everyone who knew me, she never, ever judged.

If only Mom would let Ameline take over my daily training at this point, maybe GreatGram and I could come to terms with the battle of wills I knew I’d never win against her. And couldn’t resist fighting anyway. Ameline was coven second, after all. And much better at tolerance and acceptance of the young heir than the often cranky old lady who I had to deal with on a regular basis.

Snarlygirl at your service.

Ethpeal, Sunny and Frank have arrived. Ameline’s quiet smile tingled through her body and touched me through our contact with the calming weight of her energy. There were times I wished the people around me wouldn’t play so fast and loose with their magic like that, but Ameline’s offer of comfort was exactly what I needed right now. Either that or GreatGram and I would be tussling on the grass in front of everyone. I’d hate for the werewolves to take bets against me just in case I lost.

Thank you, Ameline. GreatGram took the hint, will wonders never cease, though she did take one last second to pin me with those Hayle blue eyes. Like I’d find them intimidating after staring into the exact same pair in the mirror for the last sixteen years. I watched her go with my tongue firmly between my teeth so I couldn’t stick it out at her with a rude noise or hand gesture to back it up while Ameline’s arm tightened around my shoulders.

She loves you, silly. How could she say that to me right now when my back was up and I wanted to hate everything? Especially in that kind and gentle tone of voice with that smile of loving adoration on her gorgeous face? She looked as much a Hayle as any of us, though I coveted her perfectly straight page-boy bangs, something I’d never achieve without magic. Like I’d be allowed to tamper with my thick, black curls for the sake of fashion. The elements forbid I’d be so vain.

Maybe, I sent back, glaring at the ground, wishing I could shed the remnants of my resentment and just accept my fate. But deep inside the girl I’d been, the child who felt left out and abandoned by first her mother, then her father, then her beloved brother, just had too much of a hold over me.

Oh, I was aware. Didn’t help much. And while I knew telling someone—Mom or GreatGram maybe—could help, it also might make me look weak and I just couldn’t have that, could I? Appearances. I shuddered in Ameline’s grip, knowing she understood.

Perhaps we could greet our guests together? I know she was trying to be nice, to take some of the pressure off. But it made things worse, not better. I knew I was being a brat. It bubbled, and I hated the part of me that resisted embracing my family even as I grunted at her and refused to bend.

Stupid teenaged witch girl. I needed my head examined and a vacation. Rowr, spit, snarl. Who was I kidding? What I really needed was a night off and the family wasn’t about to let that happen. Fine, party it was. But I didn’t have to like it.

Ameline chuckled beside me as she got me moving and I could have smacked her for her amusement.

***

Chapter Two

By now the house and back yard was filled with familiar faces I really was happy to see. GreatGram’s husband, Demetrius Strong, offered me a smile and a wave hello when he joined us through a tunnel of white light, on the heels of the Sorcerers League leader, Piers Southway. I waved back, delighted to see the final distraction for GreatGram was enough to at least make her smile too, pause on her way to the house, and ignore me.

I’d take it, though a hug from Demi would have been awesome right then. But he and GreatGram lingered with Piers and I found myself blushing like I always did when the handsome sorcerer grinned and winked at me in that way he had. I used to like to listen to Piers talk with his deep, British accent and hilariously sick sense of humor that tweaked my own. But the last year or so I’d become acutely aware of just how handsome he was, with all that tall leanness inside his longcoat and the way his silken hair hung almost to the floor in an ivory waterfall.

Made me wince and flush every time. He was Mom’s age, way too old for me, but with the face of a runway model or a film star. Sigh to the depths of my poor little heart. Why was it that all of Mom’s friends were too damned attractive and more than twice my age?

As if I needed another problem, two appeared. I skirted Charlotte and Sage, the gorgeous but stoic queen of the werewolf nation watching me pass with her cold, blue eyes. Her husband was always kind, though, his sea green gaze sparkling. I’d learned to fight from the lychos Prince Consort, but it was hard to focus when he was so damned cute. I’d ended up pulling a muscle last lesson at the dojo he kept here in town in an idiotic attempt to impress him or something equally childish.

Seriously, I knew better. If someone could just do something about the hormones I had to deal with the last few years, that would be great.

I really needed to start hanging out with boys my own age to make myself feel better instead of layering on the glum reality. I would, I honestly would. If only they weren’t such jerks. The witch ones, anyway. All, that was, but my brother.

Speak of the Gateway, I spotted Gabriel at the buffet table under the floating white lights Mom strung a few hours ago, his open, honest face hiding nothing, as usual. Shining blond hair and hazel eyes lit with green topped his broad shoulders and that face I knew still hurt Mom with how much he looked like his dead father. I’d seen pictures of Liam, snuck peeks when I didn’t think my mother knew I was looking and had to admit my brother was the spitting image of the dead half-Sidhe Gatekeeper.

It was hard not to see from Gabriel's engaging and charismatic way of just being why everyone treated him differently than me. I knew my own face had scrunched up in the last few minutes and it took a great deal of effort to smooth my features as I slipped away from Ameline’s attempt to ease my duty. She didn’t protest, though I felt her watching as I joined Gabriel and hid behind the golden boy of the Hayle coven. Maybe no one would notice me if I stood here in his shadow. Oh, wait, that was my life. Right.

Yeah, bitter. No judging until you’ve flown a mile on my broom.

Gabriel smiled down at me with that genuinely kind and caring smile of his that always made me want to smack him until he lost his temper. Which he never, ever would. He’d take the hits and try to fix me, all concerned and worried and huggy and crap. I could just kick him.

I knew better than to put my own hurts on him. It wasn’t his fault he was the favorite or anything, that he was more his father than our mother. From what I understood, Liam was about as loved as Gabriel. It also wasn’t on my brother that I felt like the pariah who no one gave a crap about. Because that, well, that was all on my little shoulders, wasn’t it? My choices, my reactions and 100% pathetic princess talk.

Deep breath, Ethie. Wallowing didn’t do me a lick of good and only made things worse when I actually had to find it in me to pretend I was having a good time.

Hey, sis. Gabriel hugged me, the warmth of him making me aware of the chill of my own body, a reaction to my aggressively unhappy emotions, I guess. And the familiar scent of fabric softener and the loamy smell of fresh turned earth actually did me good, despite my need to snarl at him like a wild animal. Ooh, sweet brothers who are perfect at diffusing cranky sisters. I couldn’t muster any further animosity, sagging into him a moment and hugging him back before letting my arms drop and giving him a small smile of my own. Weak and fake and lacking in enthusiasm, but an attempt at a smile.

No matter what, I really did love my brother. Even if I hated what he stood for sometimes. The perfection that was the Gateway, the easy and awesome joy of being Gabriel Hayle. But, what was way worse? The things he was allowed to do I wasn’t. Like cut and run out of this oppressive little witch town whenever he felt like it.

Which led me down the dark path all over again and to ask a question I really didn’t want the answer to. How was school?

He’d been gone all week, my despicably perfect and studious brother. Off studying with the drach on the Stronghold plane. Hanging out with the first race, chatting it up with the soul that was the giant fortress. Having general fun adventures his little sister never, ever got to partake in.

Not that I was jealous of the opportunity to get out of Wilding Springs, explore a self-actualized fortress on an ancient plane populated by dragons. Nope, not jealous one bit.

Gabriel’s smile turned brighter, those green sparks popping in his eyes. I guess he didn’t sense my growing resentment as he gushed at me. Of course he didn’t. Gabriel didn’t do dark emotions. I’d have to hit him with them to make him see just how much his excitement hurt me. Mabel is amazing, he said. Blah, who cared? Stupid dragon people and their stupid rainbow power. And the Stronghold itself has been showing me around. So what? Dumb building, brain of a rock. Did you know it actually circles the entire plane? It’s practically endless, as if it adds more passages and rooms as needed. He took a big bite of a sandwich and chewed enthusiastically, his wide jaw jumping while he nodded and swallowed hard. I can’t wait to go back.

Argh. I resisted the urge to beat him with the punch bowl ladle. I bet. I looked away, not wanting him to see the tears standing in my eyes now, my usual reaction to the utter unfairness of my life. A vicious bout of fire magic aimed at the inside of my wrist helped snap me out of my sadness but sparked my anger all over again.

He got it at last. My brother wasn’t exactly slow, but I don’t think he realized other people didn’t live the idealized, glowing and exciting life he did. Seventeen and respected by everyone, handsome, kind, charming and genuine, he was who I wanted to be. Well, he could keep the handsome part. Still.

One big hand settled on my shoulder as he leaned closer and whispered with his voice and his magic. I talked to Mom, he said. About you coming with me next week.

I looked up then, spark of hope alive but dying at the sorrow on his face, the regret in his eyes. Let me guess, I snarled under my breath, though he was close enough to catch my words. She said no. Huge shocker there, let me tell you.

Gabriel squeezed gently before letting his hand fall away. I wish she’d understand how much benefit would come from you gaining experience and education away from home and the coven.

A biting laugh escaped me, startling a pair of young witches who walked by at that moment. One quick glance in my direction and they moved on, heads down. GreatGram didn’t care if they liked me, as long as they respected me. Didn’t matter it made me feel all alone even in a crowd like this.

"But I’m heir, I said, sarcasm so heavy my throat hurt, and what if something