AllFreeNovel
Share Us
You don’t have to suffer, the horseman says to me. His voice is so loud that I stiffen, I think everyone in class can hear it. I look around, and no one is paying me any attention.
You don’t have to suffer, Abraham Van Brunt.
You can take what’s owed to you, what’s promised to you.
And if you don’t, then I will.
It might be harder than you think to keep me satisfied.
“No!” I cry out, pushing my chair back from the desk with a loud scrape.
I look up to see the entire class looking at me now.
The teacher gives me a curious frown.
“You might say no, Brom, but in 1694, the witches didn’t have a choice,” the teacher goes on, turning back to the chalkboard. “The only two covens to escape were the Devotus and the Erusians. Both of these covens were enemies who turned each other in to the authorities.”
I give my head a shake. The horseman doesn’t usually talk to me in the day, and he’s never been so loud before.
He’s never…read my thoughts like that before.
Or perhaps that’s all he’s been doing.
“Brom,” the teacher says again, and I look at her.
“Yes?”
“Are you alright? Your hand?”
I look down to see the cut on my hand open again, blood smeared on the desk.
“Oh,” I say uneasily. “It’s just a papercut.”
I wipe my hand on my pant-leg, then swipe my arm across the blood on the desk to clean it off.
“You better go to the nurse and have that looked at,” she tells me. “You’re excused.” She makes a sour face, and then looks to the class. “Now, these covens aren’t said to exist anymore, but rumor has it that both might have settled around Sleepy Hollow.”
I get up, feeling the eyes of my classmates on me as I stride quickly toward the door.
“And an even greater rumor is that the Devotus and Erusian covens may have both survived thanks to a bargain made with a demon, a bargain to bring in what some would consider the anti-Christ.”
I stop dead in my tracks, one hand on the doorknob.
I slowly turn around to look at my teacher. “Can you repeat that?”
The teacher puts a hand on her hip. “Aren’t you going to the nurse’s office?”
“I am,” I glower at her. “Now what is this about the anti-Christ in Sleepy Hollow?”
She laughs nervously. “It’s a rumor, Brom.” She faces the class again. “There are no records of either the Devotus or Erusian covens past 1705. It’s as if they disappeared off the map. So many perished during the trials, it’s hard to say how many members actually survived in the end.”
A student raises his hand. “But what is this deal with the devil?”
“As I said, a rumor. A fun tidbit. Fun tidbits make history class more interesting, wouldn’t you say?” The student just stares at her to go on. She lets out a tired sigh. “Alright. The rumor is that the remaining members of the two warring covens were granted safe passage from the trials because they agreed to let a child, born of both sides, become a vessel for the demon. They would be granted immortality, their covens would be united in power, and in exchange the demon would be given possession of the child.”
“To bring about the end of the world,” I mumble.
“Perhaps,” the teacher says carefully, narrowing her eyes at me. “Or perhaps it’s just another legend of Sleepy Hollow. There does seem to be a lot of them.”
“Yeah, like the headless horseman,” another student says. “Did you hear that another person was found murdered?”
And at that I leave the classroom and close the door.
I need to speak to Crane and Kat.
Chapter 22
Crane
“Ms. Van Tassel, may I have a word?”
Kat meets my gaze as she gathers her books, her eyes glimmering with amusement.
“Of course,” she says, as the other students exit the classroom. I can hear their scoffs, see them rolling their eyes. There is no hiding it with us but, even so, I can’t be reprimanded by the Sisters for wanting to talk to a student after class. It’s one of my rights as a professor. They may have told me to stop fucking Kat, but they can’t expect me to let her flounder in her studies, can they?
Kat comes over to me and stands by the desk, staring down at me expectantly as she clutches her books to her chest. I feel the need to pinch myself, to remind me this stunning, special young witch is mine.
“How are you?” I ask in a low voice after I’m sure the last student has gone out the door. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning. It’s been torture not to talk to you.”
“I’m fine,” she says quietly, giving her shoulder a shrug. “A little tired, a little out of sorts. I slept hard and didn’t want to wake up this morning.”
