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  Leviathan’s Bane

  The Witches of Ashwood Falls Book 1

  M.L. Garza

  Published by:

  Hydra Productions Online LLC

  Cover art by:

  Taurus Colosseum

  Leviathan’s Bane © 2020 M.L. Garza

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Dedication

  To all the girls out there with a spark of magic in their hearts and the strength to wield it.

  Chapter 1

  Did her mother find the flickering candles as boring as she did? Once, when she was little and first learning the sacred rituals of her people, Rachel thought the ring of candles was special and beautiful. The darkened room, the ancient symbols written in chalk on the floor, and the black and white candles circling around her… it added to the magic of it all. It transported her to another realm entirely and made even the most mundane incantation feel like an ancient secret of the gods.

  Now, however, all she wanted to do was sleep.

  “Again, love. Try again.”

  There was no time for sleep. No time for anything. Samhain was nearly upon them, and if she did not know her spells, if she did not perform her role just as was intended, then all was lost.

  Rachel took a deep breath, closed her eyes, willed the magic to come to her once more, and tried again. Yet as before, it would not bend itself in the way she needed it to. The spirits evaded her, and the energy of the elements refused to come.

  Rachel reached out her hand, beckoning them shakily, but nothing. Just like every time before.

  “It’s alright, love.”

  But it wasn’t alright. Rachel opened her honey-brown eyes, the eyes her mother gave her, now filled with tears of frustration. Where once was magic was now a room of candles and dust. Boring and musty and devoid of everything that made her special.

  Standing to the side, in a protective circle of salt, was her Aunt Mirriam wearing the best expression of pity Rachel had ever seen. It wasn’t one she was used to seeing directed her way, not to the heir of the Ashwood Falls coven. There wasn’t a spell or incantation she wasn’t able to perform since the age of thirteen when she was first initiated into the coven.

  So why am I failing so badly now?

  Rachel leaned over and blew out the black candle at her right before reaching into her pocket for a rag. She wiped away the chalk sigil that surrounded her, making sure it was entirely gone before joining her aunt at her side.

  “I don’t know why it’s not working,” Rachel sighed.

  “Perhaps you’re just not ready yet,” her aunt said, breaking the salt circle to wrap her niece in her arms. “You just need more time.”

  “More time?” she asked, incredulous. “Aunt Mirriam, I’ve been practicing this summoning spell for over a year now. I only have a week left before Samhain. What if I’m not ready in time? What if it’s not enough?”

  “It will be. You are the daughter of Catherine Lazarus, the greatest witch of our generation. There is not a spell made by spirit or man that you cannot perform.”

  Oh, how I wish that was true.

  Rachel looked over the room and waved a listless hand, bidding the rest of the candles to douse themselves as well.

  At least that simple bit of magic still worked. If she no longer had the ability to perform spells that she had mastery over since the age of ten, then she truly was doomed. With another flick of her wrist, the main lights came on overhead. Any lingering sense of the mystique was banished beneath the power of fluorescent lighting.

  The two women tidied the ceremonial chambers together, sorting the many candles by color and clearing the tools from the altar. Rachel could have done it on her own, but she appreciated the company, nonetheless.

  Her Aunt Mirriam had been there for her since she was orphaned at five years old, orphaned by the very spell she was now learning to cast herself. If there was anyone she wanted at her side when she did it for real, it was her.

  “Perhaps you should get out of here for a while,” her aunt said when they were done. “Get some fresh air, see something else beyond these four walls.” The lines were deeper around her eyes. It was doubtful she’d had any more sleep than Rachel these days. No one in the coven would be sleeping well until Samhain was over with.

  “I can’t,” Rachel said, shaking her head. Some of her dark hair fell loose from its braid and fell in front of her face. “I can’t take too long of a break, you know that.”

  Her aunt wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her from the room. Not that she was difficult to drag away. The young woman hadn’t eaten in over a day now, too worried about the looming ceremony, and her strength was beginning to fail her. Not to mention that the ceremonial walls were driving her mad.

  Perhaps some time away wasn’t the worst idea Aunt Mirriam had ever had…

  But then the memory of that… that thing came roaring back into her mind, and Rachel tried to turn back. “I should—”

  “Rachel, please.” She was tugged more firmly from the room until she was back in the main house.

  For most of the year, the grand building housed only Mirriam and Rachel, and perhaps a few members of the coven visiting for one reason or another. This time of year, however, all thirty members filled the house to the gills. It was suffocating to be inside all the time, so in that way, the ceremonial chambers were a refuge. The only boon of the place these days.

  “What if I don’t get it right in time?” she rattled on as they walked. “What if Samhain comes and I screw it up again? We both know how important this ceremony is, Aunt Mirriam, and I can’t just—”

  “Rachel? Is that Rachel?”

  The elder woman beside her muffled her laughter while Rachel just hung her head and sighed. Sierra Montgomery.

  “It is you!”

  Rachel was released by her aunt just as another woman swooped down the hall to envelope her in a tight embrace. The coven high priestess, Sierra, was old enough to be her grandmother, but she still had the vigor of a woman half her age. The many crystals she wore around her neck jangled as she moved and dug into Rachel’s chest as she hugged the girl, sure to leave imprints for hours.

  “Oh, where have you been hiding, my girl?” Sierra asked, pulling back just enough to look at her. She had a kindly face, but for some reason had always frightened her as a child. Perhaps it was the fact that after Rachel’s mother died, Sierra became the most powerful witch within a hundred miles. Perhaps it was because she was the head of the coven and held everyone’s lives in her hands.

  Perhaps it was simply the fact that the day of her death meant Rachel would take her place, and that was the most frightening thing of all.

  “Just preparing, Madam Montgomery,” Rachel said with a shaky smile. “You know me.”

  “Indeed, I do,” the priestess said, grinning. “You’re like your mother in that way. You always have your nose in some book or playing in that dusty old room. Come out and join the festivities, dear. They’re for you.
”

  “They’re for everyone,” Mirriam said, saving Rachel from Sierra’s attention. “Rachel may be our leading star Samhain night, but let’s not forget our true purpose.”

  “Indeed. Defeating the Leviathan and sending that foul beast back where it belongs.”

  Rachel frowned and stepped back, letting the elder witches converse.

  The Leviathan. The purpose of that spell and the thing she had to banish if the coven was going to have a future. If the world itself was going to have a future.

  Busy as the house was, with so many people going back and forth, it was easy to escape Sierra and Mirriam’s notice and slip away. Her aunt was right; she had to leave for a while, and not just the ceremony chamber, but the whole place itself.

  It was time to go into town.

  Chapter 2

  Ashwood Falls was a small town, but that never bothered Rachel. Small meant safe and unnoticed, far from the excitement of the big city witches and their big city drama. If the worst thing she had to deal with in this sleepy town was an occasional poltergeist in the local hardware store, then that was fine with her. No fame, no glory, no notoriety.

  She was lucky enough to have escaped her family name this long. The McDaniel line was known far and wide, throughout the entire world, everywhere except here.

  The trees drifted by slowly as she drove into town, eventually giving way to the occasional colonial and finally the few shops and office buildings that marked the center of Ashwood Falls. A sleepy sort of place, the perfect sort that soothed the anxious heart of an anxious witch.

  Up ahead, the joint fire and police station loomed as one of the great landmarks of the town. Rachel did her best to avoid looking at it, not wanting to be reminded of less pleasant memories from the past. One disadvantage of a small town meant there was no escaping certain things no matter how much she wanted to.

  Grey...

  One, two, three more blocks and… there! The best coffee and donut place in fifty miles, Sweet Nuthins. The owner of Sweet Nuthins, a motherly woman by the name of Madeline, wasn’t an official member of the coven. After a strange summer involving two gremlins and an Eighty-Six Datsun Interceptor, the coven decided to make her an honorary member regardless. She was under their protection, and in return, she offered them bottomless coffee and pastries.

  Just what the witch doctor ordered.

  Rachel parked in front and walked in, breathing in the scent of confection and caffeine. It was like coming home again in a way. How she’d missed this place.

  “Rachel!” Alice, Madeline’s eldest daughter, looked up from her place at the register and smiled when she saw the witch enter. “Have a seat, I’ll be with you in a second.”

  She nodded and walked over to a small table in the corner, well away from the general public. It was fine to be around people without having to mingle too much. To the locals, she was just a member of a weird religious group. But the less she had to deal with it the better. Especially now. Even the one or two people who knew the truth were one or two too many. This was not a day to be answering questions.

  When Alice had a chance to pull away, she brought over a hot chocolate and a bear claw. “Haven’t seen you in here for a while.”

  “Been busy,” Rachel said with an apologetic smile. “I haven’t been much of anywhere in a while, not just here.”

  “Oh yeah, isn’t there some holiday coming up for you guys?”

  If you can call summoning a hellbeast in order to kill it and save the entire world from complete destruction a holiday, sure…

  “Something like that,” was all Rachel said in reply.

  “Well if you ever get a chance, there’s been something weird going on with my mom’s radiator again. I keep telling her to take it to the shop, but she wanted to check with you first. Think you might have some time available?”

  Rachel took a bite of the bear claw and shrugged. She knew Alice never really took much stock in the practical side of the magic she and the coven practiced, but the pastries were too damn good and so the small insult was overlooked. “I have time now if you want me to take a look.”

  “Great! Well, eat up and take your time. We have plenty. There was a bus load of leafers that was supposed to come around, but they—oh, Officer Dacy! I didn’t see you come in.”

  Rachel froze.

  “Hey, Alice. Can I get a coffee and a donut when you get a chance?”

  Oh no…

  “Of course! Excuse me, Rachel.” Alice grinned, patted her arm, and left to fetch the requested items.

  The sound of his voice made the bear claw turn to dust in her mouth. She knew that voice. She knew the timbre and the rise and fall of each syllable as if it had been with her all her life. It was a voice she'd tried to forget for the past three years, ever since the day he betrayed her and her coven in favor of his own people. That was the day the lines were drawn and Rachel was reminded that she could never truly be one of them, never take anything for granted, and never trust anyone who wasn't of the coven.

  Grey Dacy. A simple name for one of the most complicated men she'd ever had the misfortune of dating.

  And he was looking right at her.

  Rachel pretended not to notice him, though how could she not? She held the cup of hot chocolate to her lips and started out the window, pretending to find something much more interesting outside than the gorgeous Chief of Police sitting just a table away.

  "Rachel."

  Damn him. Damn him to the Netherworlds and beyond. Why does he have to have a voice like that?

  "Rachel, at least look at me."

  "Why should I?" she growled at her cup.

  "Because I don't like talking to a head of frizzy hair."

  Frizzy? Frizzy, he said!

  She whipped her head around to fix him with a glare dark enough to stop a banshee in its tracks. "My hair is not--"

  Grey flashed her a perfect smile. "Got you to look at me at least."

  Damn him thrice over.

  "What do you want, Grey?" she asked. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

  "I never said you were," he said, lifting his hands from his mug of coffee in a defensive gesture. "Though to be fair, that's exactly what a guilty person would say."

  Rachel growled, actually growled, and contemplated what the penalty might be for throwing a cup of hot chocolate in the face of a police officer.

  "I'm joking," Grey said. "I swear you're turning into your Aunt Mirriam."

  "Powerful and wise?"

  "A humorless pain in the ass." He leaned back in his chair and picked up his own bear claw, nibbling on it slowly. His pale blond hair picked up the late afternoon sun, just like the way it used to when they--

  No. No, she couldn't think like that. Thoughts like that were dangerous.

  “So, what brings you into town? Need more cat food for the familiars?”

  “Very funny,” she scowled. “Am I not allowed to go into town like normal people now and then?”

  Grey leaned forward in his seat and smiled again. “First,” he said. “You’d have to be like normal people. So why don’t you tell me what you’ve really been up to these days?”

  She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t. After all, he’d lost all right to her secrets the moment he betrayed her trust. But then again, she wanted to see the look on his face when he realized just what there was going on his sleepy little town.

  “I’ve been hearing rumors,” he went on. “Of some weird shit going on at your aunt’s place.”

  “Weird shit?” she laughed. “It’s the center of our coven. Weird shit is what we do.”

  “There’s some holiday coming up, right? Samhain? I figure that means you’ll be up to something extra weird and give my department hell to pay for it.”

  “It’s not all about you, you know. Or your department.” That was always his problem. Gray thought the whole world revolved around him. And when he finally found something he couldn’t control, a woman and her coven, he didn’t know how to c
ope and it ended up destroying what potential their relationship had.

  “Never said it was,” he said. “But if there’s something going on and I should know about it, you’d tell me, right?”

  She shrugged and returned to her hot chocolate. He deserved nothing, least of all answers or loyalty.

  “Rachel.”

  She ignored him.

  “Rachel, your coven isn’t up to anything, is it?”

  “Why do you always assume we’re up to something?” she snorted, side-eyeing him. “Just because we’re different?”

  “Because I know what they’re like, and they’re not all as good as you are.”

  Nice to see he’s still as big a jackass as ever.

  Her donut was getting stale anyway. Rachel grabbed her wallet and stood to go, stopped only by her ex-boyfriend’s hand on her wrist.

  “You’re better than them, Rachel,” he said, voice low and insistent. “You know you are. Don’t let them rope you into something you can’t get out of.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she snapped. “Haven’t you caused enough harm?”

  “I’m trying to help you.”

  “Well, stop. You don’t know them, and you don’t know me.”

  Grey reached for her hand, just missing it as she snatched it away. How dare he think he could just walk back into her life after betraying her and all she loved! Well he wasn’t going to get away with it, not this time!

  She jerked herself away from him and stormed out the door, not waiting for a reply. There was nothing he had to say that she wanted to hear.

  Why do I even bother coming into town?

  Chapter 3

  A case of a haunted radiator was hardly worth the time of a witch of Ashwood Falls. Despite their location in a small, backwoods town, the Ashwood coven was known for being among the best in the world. A number of their ranks were sometimes hired by the Vatican during instances of strong demonic possession. The Dalai Lama himself was an old tea-drinking friend of Madam Montgomery’s. It was said that the strongest of their line were descendants of the bayous of New Orleans and the ports near Salem.