Spellcaster, p.10
Spellcaster, page 10
Belle laughed briefly, before it died under her groan. “Fuck, remind me not to do that again. I mean, not that I don’t appreciate your possibly mythical lake monster taking her down, but for now can we just get out of here?”
“You need a healer,” I said shortly, my gaze darting around to see if I could find Annabeth.
Belle didn’t argue, which told me how much pain she was in. “I can go back on my own,” she huffed, holding her side. “I don’t want to ruin the party for you.”
I leveled my best glare on her. “Like I would let you walk back alone while injured with that psycho witch running around out there.”
“Come on, killer,” Belle said with another strained laugh, noticing me still checking the crowd for Annabeth. “I love you for caring, and as badly as I want to see you smack her around again, it’s not worth putting you in her crosshairs. She’s been avoiding you, and I want to keep it that way.”
Belle was the best friend a girl could have hoped for, and I thanked Selene’s light that Dad hadn’t dragged me out of college. I was closer to Belle, Sara, and Haley in a few weeks than I’d been with Trina and Olivia in years of friendship.
Friendships were weird in that way, but I wasn’t going to question it.
As we set off to leave, Trevor intercepted us. “Sister!” he exclaimed, sounding as if he’d indulged in more than plain old beer. “Where in the warlock have you been?”
“Brother,” I shot back dryly. “We’re heading out. I’ll chat with you later.”
“But the party’s just started,” he complained. “Stay for one drink with me. I’ve waited forever for Baby Sis to make it to Weatherstone.”
Drunk Trevor was annoying and adorable, and I wasn’t surprised when Belle caved. She hadn’t said anything to me about it, but there was this weird tension between her and my brother, even as they shot jabs at each other more often than not. “Stay, Pais. I can get my way back, and I probably don’t even need a healer.”
“You’re injured,” I said, crossing my arms as my stubbornness kicked in. “I’m taking you to a healer.”
Whatever intoxication Trevor had been displaying vanished like magic. “Injured?” He focused on my tiny friend, his gaze running over her as he assessed for injuries. “What happened? Are you hurt as well, Pais?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “This stupid witch is bullying her, and she got Belle with an iron attack.”
Trevor pressed closer for a more thorough inspection, but Belle waved him off. “Hands to yourself, warlock,” she said. “I’m fine. Just some bruises on my ribs.”
My brother’s hands twitched at his sides. “Paisley is right, you need to see the healers. I’ll walk with you to make sure you get there safely.”
I waited for Belle to object, her dark eyes watchful. “Thank you. I’d appreciate the escort.”
Whoa, okay. That was odd. Trevor better not ruin my friendship due to his playwarlock ways, or he’d be the one with bruised ribs.
The three of us headed away from the party, and near the edge of the forest, a hand landed on my shoulder. I spun, fists flying up, and Marcus jumped back, hands held up before him.
Trevor was already in front of me, but I grabbed his biceps before he could do anything serious. “No, wait. He’s my friend,” I said quickly. Leaning around my brother, I smiled. “Sorry, Marcus. Belle here was just attacked by a witch, so we’re a little on edge.”
Trevor relaxed enough that I could step around him, and I saw Belle tugging on his hand. “Paisley will catch up,” I heard her whisper. “Let’s give them a second to talk.”
He didn’t want to leave; I could see that quite plainly, but when I narrowed my eyes with a clear fuck off, brother in them, he grimaced and pointed a finger at Marcus. “Hurt my sister and I’ll rip your fucking arms off and beat you with them.”
He didn’t wait for a response, turning to march off with Belle, not bothering to look back. Cranky asshole.
Marcus, to his merit, didn’t leave, and he showed no indication that my brother’s threat phased him. “Sorry about that,” I said, clearing my throat. “My brother is a tad overprotective, and a giant dick, but I love him.”
He tilted his head. “Can’t fault him for being protective of you. I shouldn’t have just grabbed you like that. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Damn, he was smooth. “Why did you grab me?” I asked, cool breezes ruffling my hair as they whistled through the trees nearby.
A fraction of his confidence fell as he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve been wanting to chat with you all night.”
And yet he hadn’t approached me until now.
“How are your classes going?”
Great, we were talking about school. Excellent start. “They’re going better than I expected,” I said with a shrug. “The amount of information we’re learning is intense, but I enjoy it. I like flexing my magical muscle.”
“No sign of your affinity yet?”
That sprinkling of unease that swirled in my energy swelled. “Nope. There was a low-level bonding moment with a dog in Nature Sprites for the Newly Bonded, but not enough to call it a familiar. My strongest reactions have been during the lake, where I almost drowned, and during Necromancy in the Wild, in that forest—” I waved my hand to the eastern perimeter “—I actually felt the heat of my power emerge.”
“Being a necromancer would be a great affinity,” Marcus said, and it was clear that he meant that. “If I end up being a spellcaster, I’m almost disappointed not to explore that final frontier of energy.”
“Professor Longhorn hasn’t indicated that he’s seen a necro affinity yet, but my magic is locked away. We’re all searching for the elusive key.”
Marcus’s eyes softened. “You’re too hard on yourself, Paisley. It’s only been a few weeks, and from what I can tell, you’re doing pretty well for a witch without an affinity.” His words replaced the unease with warmth. “You’ve got your entire four years of college to figure out your affinity. It’ll probably take them that long to declare mine too.”
For a vastly different reason to mine. Marcus showed a strong aptitude for too many affinities, but the classification of a spellcaster was a lengthy process. “Logan Kingston is a spellcaster,” I said suddenly. “His first class is this coming week. I wonder if you’ll find a resonation with his energy during the lesson.”
He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “Whether I’m a spellcaster or not remains to be seen, but I am looking forward to this class. How often do we get firsthand experience with a powerful spellcaster? I heard that Logan is classified as one of the strongest in the world, and he’s not even finished college.”
Of course he was. I’d expect nothing less. Wishing I hadn’t brought that warlock up, I was trying to figure out a subject change, when Marcus stepped closer. “Would you like to catch up on a weekend? Just . . . the two of us?”
I stared at him, wondering why I wasn’t jumping at the opportunity. Maybe because I’d been looking for mindless sex to quench the fire, but his question and the way he stared at me spoke of more. “That sounds—”
An explosion rocked the party grounds, and Marcus grabbed my shoulders, spinning me behind him while he searched for an attack. Near the largest bonfire, I saw a kaleidoscope of lights followed by shouts as a fight broke out. “Shit.” Marcus shot me an apologetic grimace. “My friends are in there. I need to help them, but I’ll find you after, okay?”
“Go, help your friends,” I said with an encouraging smile. If my friends were here still, I’d have been right on his ass to help them. “I’ll catch you later.”
Marcus still hesitated, but as the fight grew louder, he shook his head and took off. Jostled by others, I was pushed farther back in the crowd, until I stood at the edge of the forest again. Exhausted, I decided to catch up with Belle and Trevor. If I took the shortcut, I might catch them before the healers.
Walking along the side of the building, I stuck to the shadows, wondering what stupidity had made me take the darkest, eeriest path. Not that I was worried about an attack, with everyone distracted by the fight.
As if those thoughts tempted the Fates themselves, when I turned the corner a roughly hewn bag was jerked over my head, cutting off my screams. It tightened around my neck, and I panicked and clawed at my throat, before I was cracked on the head, pain exploding through my brain as everything went fuzzy.
Chapter 15
My attacker was an air elemental, using their energy to lift us both, and send us hurtling across the campus. The throbbing in my head worsened with each breath of air I tried to suck through the burlap bag. It stuck to my sweaty face, and I fought not to pass out again through sheer panic.
My attacker was bigger and stronger, and their hold was tight until they stopped suddenly and released me to slam against a hard surface. Winded, my lungs ached along with my head as I gasped for breath, but that didn’t stop me from rolling to the side and clawing at the ties at my throat.
The psycho warlock laughed, a deep chilling sound, as he wrapped his hands around my throat. Blindly swinging my arms, I tried to claw him, but he wasn’t strangling as I’d expected. He released the ties on the bag. When he yanked it off, my head slammed back with a crack against whatever I rested on, and I turned to find it was a headstone.
My attacker had brought us to the Weatherstone graveyard.
Tingles raced along my spine stronger than I’d ever felt—this warning system I’d developed the moment I stepped onto these college grounds. Little too late this time. Scrambling to my feet, the back of my head felt warm, and I had a suspicion I was bleeding.
Which wasn’t the worst of my worries as the full moon crested to the peak, washing its calming energy over the graves and illuminating my attacker:
Weasel.
Tilting his head to the side, he shot me a smile any serial killer would be proud of. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he said conversationally, sounding less deranged than he looked. “A distraction. An annoyance. And I’m sick of seeing your fucking face. Kingston will thank me for this.”
He twisted his right hand, and the air I’d been quite happily breathing was restricted in my lungs and throat. Choking, I clawed at my neck, as flashbacks of drowning in the lake hit me hard and fast. Only this time, there was definitely a monster attacking me, and since he was of the warlock variety, I could fight back.
Dropping to my knees, I fought through my panic, desperately searching for a weapon. My palm hit a rock, half-buried in the dirt, and I clawed it loose, pitching it as hard and fast as I could. I’d spent two summers playing baseball with the kids on my street, and I had a mean fastball when I wanted.
Weasel dodged it, but not the second one I shot at him just as fast. The tennis ball–sized stone slammed into his gut, and when he doubled over the elemental hold on my body ceased. Leaping to my feet, I didn’t stop or think, sprinting in the direction I hoped the gate was. I couldn’t see it from this angle.
Of course, a witch with no active magic against an asshole with control over the elements meant I was far outmatched. Air wrapped around my body, holding me in place, before he lifted me a few feet off the ground, and slammed me down face-first onto the hard, rock-filled grass. Compacted dirt bit into my skin, scraping where my clothes didn’t protect. Weasel repeated this movement over and over, until I could taste blood, and my head was spinning and screaming at me.
When he stopped, he left me sprawled on the ground in a broken heap. “Are you planning on killing me?” I choked out, wiping blood from my lips. Little beams of light shone in my hands, but it was so far from an active power I might as well have been holding a firefly. “They’ll execute you.”
“Not if they can’t find your body,” he snarled as he slammed his foot on my back, pushing me until I tasted grass and more blood. “You’re just an annoyance and a distraction, and I think the plan is much better this way.”
A strangled scream escaped me as I tried to push up against him, but I was hurt too badly to have any fight left. As it was, I could barely whimper.
“I’m going to enj—”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Another whimper escaped me, as shouts rang out. Students had left the party, and judging by the chill of their energy, some necromancers had decided to visit the graveyard on their way back to the dorms.
My face was pressed into the ground, so I couldn’t see who had arrived, and even when the weight of Weasel’s foot disappeared, I didn’t move. Didn’t or couldn’t, it was hard to tell through the blaring pain. Gentle hands touched me a few seconds later, and I flinched.
“It’s okay,” a witch said carefully, her voice pitched low and soothing. “We’re here to help you.”
I was lifted, and I couldn’t help my cries as the pain intensified. Tears burned my eyes, and I squeezed them shut and prayed to the goddess for a little relief.
“You need to hurry,” the witch said to whoever carried me. “She doesn’t look good.”
Excellent. At least I looked how I felt.
The warlock who held me—I could feel his hard chest—moved faster, jolting my broken body. I gritted my teeth and tried to be thankful I was alive. Feeling no pain would have meant I was dead, and once again the reaper had kept its claws out of me.
Not that I knew why I was being hunted by that scythey bastard, but it wasn’t my time yet apparently.
Why did Weasel attack me? Was it on Logan’s orders? He’d said Kingston would thank him, and yet it hadn’t sounded like he had been directed to attack.
It made even less sense for Logan to save me at the lake, ignore me for weeks, and then let his asshole friend beat me to death. There’d been no new torture in that period of time. Nothing that would justify saving my life at the lake for a great plan.
The light grew brighter behind my tightly closed eyelids, and I soon smelled antiseptic, lavender, peppermint, and other herbs. Healing witches and warlocks were almost always nature sprites, using what nature provided, along with spells and their internal energy, to accelerate our bodies’ healing.
It was quiet at first, until a witch let out a loud gasp. “Oh my goddess.” Her voice was low and sweet. “What happened here?”
“She was attacked in the graveyard,” the warlock holding me said. “We didn’t see her attacker clearly, but it was another warlock.”
“Quickly, get her on the bed, and then can one of you fetch the headmaster for me?”
I was placed against a soft surface, but I was in too much pain for anything to feel comfortable. “It’s okay, dear,” the witch told me in gentle tones. I attempted to open my eyes, but every time I tried the pain grew worse.
The warmth of her energy surrounded me as she started to chant a healing spell, and for a second it hurt worse than ever as I fought back a scream. “You’re doing amazing,” she whispered. “Your injuries aren’t the worst we’ve seen, but you do have internal bleeding and a few fractured ribs. Don’t worry. I’ll have you as good as new in no time.”
She chanted again, and I did nothing except attempt to hold on to my sanity, until eventually, there was some blessed relief from the agony. When her hands lifted, and the heat faded, she rubbed cool, lavender-scented paste across my arms and side, leaving me sore but not dying any longer. I slumped into the bed, exhausted and emotional, wondering what I was going to tell my dad when he came raging into this room.
“Rest, sweetie,” the healer said. “I’ll check on you soon.”
The need to sleep was a normal part of the healing process, and I let myself drift off, hoping that by the time I woke up the rest of the pain would be gone. My theory almost worked, until I heard a frantic “Little Gem” beside my bed, and I opened my eyes to find Dad and all of my siblings standing pale faced around me.
“Almost missed the family reunion,” I joked, voice raspy against my dry throat.
Dad took my hand and squeezed it gently. “Sweetheart, why do I keep finding you in these situations?”
“Magnet for trouble?”
Dad’s frown deepened, even as the fire in his eyes eased. “Maddy, the healer who first attended you, said you had severe bruises, some internal bleeding, and broken ribs. She’s got most of the healing under way, and you should feel much better in a few hours. How’s your pain?”
I took a second to assess my injuries, shifting on the bed, relieved when it was all down to a dull ache. “Honestly, not too bad. A few bruises and aches still, and I could really use a glass of water, but other than that I’m going to be fine.”
“Who did this?” Trevor growled, hands gripping the metal railing beside me. Unlike Dad, the flames in his eyes roared.
“I don’t know his name,” I told them the truth. “But I’m going to find out, and I’ll report it to the headmaster.”
Dad looked over his shoulder, before coming back to my gaze. “Victor was just here, but he must have stepped out again. You will absolutely be reporting this warlock, and we will make sure he’s charged to the full extent of the law.” I had no issue with that, but I did have an issue with Dad’s next words. “And if we don’t find him soon, I’m taking you home, sweetheart. No negotiations.”
“We’ll find him,” I promised darkly, deciding I’d search the entire fucking school daily until I found Logan and demanded a name. “I know his face. I just need the name.”
My sisters pressed in for hugs, and I wasn’t surprised when Alice cried into my side. “I’m so sorry this happened. We should have been at the party.”
“I shouldn’t have left her at the party,” Trevor rumbled, and the heat in the room shot right up, giving us all a free sauna along with healing.
“It’s okay,” I told them all. “I’m a grown witch, and I should be able to take care of myself. This is not on any of you, it’s on that asshole who jumped me. And he will be dealt with.”
