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Hayle Coven Inheritance

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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…

Hayle Coven Inheritance is created by Patti Larsen, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

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Chapter 1: Not Bitter Or Anything
RITE OF PASSAGE BOOK ONE: THE HAYLE COVEN INHERITANCE 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. ***

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