Page 15 of Spellcaster (Weatherstone College #1)

The next few weeks at Weatherstone were gloriously boring compared to my first day. My family barely left my side, each of

my siblings freaked by almost losing me, but there were no further conversations about me withdrawing from college. Dad told

me he was in the wait and see phase, and I wasn’t pushing the issue.

The nightmares I expected did come for the first few nights, but Alice and Jenna, squished with me on my tiny bed, got me

through the worst of it. The Hallistars never let the demons win; our family stood in the darkness and fought side by side.

Classes went by quickly, and I found myself enjoying the variety of elemental lessons: history, Apothecary and Herbal Studies,

along with Intro to Alchemy. All of that kept me busy enough that I didn’t think about Logan Kingston more than, say, five

times a day. My stalkcaster had turned into a ghostcaster, disappearing into Weatherstone as if he’d never stepped foot in

the college.

My burning questions about what happened in the lake remained, but with life growing busier, I managed to focus on the now.

My near death was pushed down into the depths of my memory, and I forced myself to embrace the future I almost didn’t have.

“So, party tonight,” Sara said with an extra wiggle to her hips. It was the Friday after Defensive Spells for Beginners. Our final class had us whipping up small deflection spells.

Belle and I had expanded our friend group to include two other freshman witches: Sara Collier and Haley Michaels. Sara, a

dark-haired witch not much taller than Belle, was born in Romania and moved to Florida when she was ten. We’d bonded over

her lack of an affinity too, and I’d found myself clicking with her bubbly, outgoing personality.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Haley said with a groan, as if Sara had suggested an after-class dentist trip.

Haley was the opposite of Sara, tall and thin, with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and skin so pale she needed sun protection

in the middle of winter. She was also an introvert who’d rather visit her gynecologist than go to a party. “I need to study,”

she stated, pouting as hard as she could. “And the next book in that witch-warrior series releases at midnight, so I absolutely

need to stay up for it.”

Belle shook her head, falling in on the other side of Sara, her glorious red curls cascading down her back. “Girl, the fact

that you’re reading witch stories is disturbing. Humans rarely get the details right.”

Sara’s laugh burst from her as she tried to cover it with a cough. “I figured that’s why she reads them, to laugh at all the

bullshit and inaccuracies. If I hear about one more wand reference, I’ll probably throw myself off the Lewington Mountains

out the back there.”

Haley rolled her eyes at Sara’s dramatics. “It’s called fantasy for a reason. I like to escape.”

“Yeah, into all of those spicy scenes,” I casually added, forcing myself to remain straight-faced. “There were lots of magic

wands in the one she was reading the other day, only they weren’t attached to anyone’s hand—”

Haley let out a little shriek and covered her ears. “Oh my goddess, you three are the worst.” Despite the horror twisting her face, she was smiling. “But you’re also not wrong. I’m not opposed to a little one-handed reading at times.”

It was such an unexpected comment from our nature sprite that all of us paused and stared at her. Mirth trickled up through

my chest, and I fought the urge to ask her what the book title was.

“Well, fuck,” Belle rasped. “I’m ashamed to say that it took me a beat to understand what you meant. By the way, what’s the

name of your book? Asking for a friend.”

Belle had resisted no such urge, and all of us laughed, even as Haley shot the title our way. I filed it away because I could

always use a new hobby. Collecting crystals, watching K-dramas, and worrying about my inability to express magic were not

quite rounding me out as a witch.

“Okay...” Sara got back to the point. “The party is tonight, and we’re all going. This is to celebrate Selene’s energy,

and it’s the first full moon since we started in Weatherstone. This is a rite of passage, and none of you witches can miss

it.”

Jensen and Trevor had been carrying on about this event for days, and I wanted to go, even though I had a shit ton of schoolwork

and assignments waiting for me.

“Fine,” Haley conceded. “I’ll stay for an hour. That’s all I’m promising.”

Belle and Sara’s faces lit up, and then Belle rounded on me. “You’re awfully quiet over there, Paisley Hallistar. But just

know, if you’re not back here at six, dressed in your sexiest best, I’ll drag you out in your pj’s.” She blew me a kiss and

then raced off down the hall. “See you bitches in two hours.”

“Think she meant witches ?” Haley asked as we watched her sprint off.

“Definitely not,” Sara and I replied simultaneously.

After the girls left to get ready, I took a quick shower, and naked, collapsed onto my bed. I decided to grab a ten-minute nap because the sexy dreams were back in force now that the nightmares had faded, leaving me exhausted.

Sleep came quickly, ending when I was woken by a strong rush of magic tingling down my spine. I hadn’t felt anything similar

since the lake incident and it had me bolting upright, throwing on whatever clothes lay on the floor and tearing out of my

room.

The hallway was mostly empty, only a few students visible in the distance—certainly, no big-ass spellcaster. I had expected to see Logan. Since the day at the lake, I’d taken to thinking of that tingle across the back of my neck as a warning

of danger. Whether that danger came from Logan or an outside source, I had no idea, but I wasn’t about to ignore it.

As I stood there in the hallway, the energy settled leaving me frustrated as I reentered my room.

A quick glance at my watch told me it was already 5:30p.m., so I forced everything else from my mind and rummaged through

my clothes to find an outfit. I settled on black jeans, black boots, a tight red sweater, and a black wool coat to throw on

top. It was still freezing outside, but the worst of the snow had passed by now, so we were back to just regular winter. Not

arctic.

After straightening my hair until it hung in a shiny golden-brown sheath to midback, I added some makeup, lining my eyes darker

than usual, topping it off with red lipstick to match my sweater. This was my first chance to get out of uniform with other

students, and I wanted to look good.

At six exactly, my door’s sensor pad was pressed, letting me know they were here. I hurried over to find Belle, Haley, and

Sara outside, looking gorgeous in jeans and jackets like me.

“Fuck yes,” Belle yelled, waving her hands in the air as she danced. “It’s party time, bitches.”

Haley snorted. “Such a human phrase.”

Belle shot her a wink. “I happen to enjoy humans. They fuck different to warlocks. It’s hard to explain, but I’m definitely

not ruling out a human match in the future.”

“Worked out well for my parents,” Haley said with a shrug. “I say go with your heart.”

As Belle’s father was an elder, I doubted he’d be cool with his daughter going with her heart , but if I knew my friend at all, she gave zero fucks about it. Outside of that first night when she’d been beaten down in

the shower, I’d only ever seen her brimming with confidence, and taking life by the balls. Literally, sometimes, if a warlock

got too handsy.

“Do you think they’ll have witch wine there tonight?” Sara asked, pulling out a small mirror to check her eye makeup, which

was dark and shimmery.

Belle let out a groan, her features exaggeratedly sad. “Not a chance. We’ll be stuck with regular alcohol.”

Human alcohol barely affected us; magic kept our metabolism working overtime. But witches and warlocks had figured out a way.

Starting with O’Hara, an English witch in the seventeenth century, who invented Trunica, the first witch wine. The brew had

only been perfected since, coming in a range of flavors and intensities. It was strictly forbidden in Weatherstone, due to

its twenty-six-plus age restriction, but in reality, what college experience would be complete without a little underage drinking.

I eyed Belle closely as she danced again. “Are you sure you don’t have a secret stash in your dorm?”

“My father would kill me if I sullied the family name that way,” she groaned, straightening her back and tilting her chin

up. “Us Harpers are from the original witch lines, didn’t you know?”

Her dad sounded like a bit of a dick, and I expected noth ing less from an elder and councilman.

They didn’t reach those lofty positions without being both powerful and arrogant.

Belle dealt with his control by acting out, and screwing around with humans apparently, but she still struggled to not be excellent at everything she did.

My best friend already topped our grade in multiple classes, playing right into the role

he wanted for her.

“Come on, friend,” I said, linking my arm through hers. Her killer black boots with silver buckles had enough heel to bring

us closer in height. “Let’s get to this party.”

Haley and Sara hurried along with us, and we were soon in the middle of students heading for the party. The vibe in the air

was electric, and I felt tingles of energy, but they weren’t like the day at the lake. This wasn’t a warning, it was pure

magic filling the air.

Weatherstone was letting loose, and as we descended the back stairs, my own excitement built. Thank the goddess I didn’t stay

back and study. I wanted to be here tonight. Under the full moon.

The party was located at the back of the campus grounds, pockets of forest surrounding the large, cleared space. Tables were

set up, covered in food and drinks, as music blasted from speakers hanging in trees around us. Bonfires were in the process

of being lit as fire elementals flexed their muscles, while air elementals, not to be outdone, dragged logs across for seating.

“This is amazing,” Sara crowed, voice rising in excitement. “Weatherstone is great and all, but the classes are hardcore compared

to my secondary school. We deserve this night to relax.”

Haley exchanged a look with me, and I had no doubt she wished she was back in her dorm reading. “One hour,” she reminded us

grimly. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”

The first table was groaning under buckets filled with ice and mixed drinks. As predicted, it was all human-made alcohol, so we just grabbed a can of whatever looked good. I opted for watermelon vodka, holding the icy can as I followed my friends back to a log near one of the larger fires.

As we sat, Sara nudged me so hard I almost dropped my drink. “Marcus is looking at you,” she hissed.

Spurred on by Belle, Sara and Haley had noticed his efforts to chat with me after class, and now the three of them were in

cahoots to get me laid. My gaze drifting across the crowd, I found him on the far side of the bonfire, relaxed against a log

with his best friend, Johnno.

Marcus shifted his long legs in front of him, sipping a beer as our gazes caught. There was the slightest shift in my stomach,

a murmur of attraction. Only an idiot would deny that Marcus was hot, but I kept holding back.

It wasn’t as if the heat of my magic had cooled—thank you, sexy but annoying and clingy dreams—but I hadn’t acted on it. Maybe

tonight it was time to let go and just get laid. I wasn’t a virgin by any stretch, even if my experience was somewhat minimal

compared to Belle’s.

It was unnatural for us not to seek out sex after our magic bloomed. The heat in our blood could drive us crazy otherwise,

and I could already see more than one couple hot and heavy in the forest. There’d be sex everywhere tonight, and if I played

my cards right, I could be one of the lucky ones.

“Go to him,” Belle said as she lifted her daiquiri and took a sip. “Go and have some fun. You’re far too uptight.”

I snorted out a sad little chuckle. “Under-fucking-statement of the year. My magic is fire in my veins without an outlet.

I don’t know what my issue is though. Maybe I’m waiting for him to make a move.”

My natural confidence had been known to take a back seat when it came to sex. I liked the warlock to take control, to take what he wanted. Within reason.

Sara prodded me harder than before. “Paisley Hallistar, do not waste that fucking sexy warlock tonight.” She turned to Haley

for backup, but the introverted witch who identified as a book witch already had her nose stuck in a paperback.

“Haley even agrees,” said Sara with a shrug, taking her on as a wingwitch anyway. “We all voted, and you lost, so go and get

your fucking warlock.”

I got the sense that if I didn’t move my ass, one of them would drag me over. The push I needed was coming whether I liked

it or not. “Okay, why the Hel not.” As I got to my feet, I could see above the bonfire, and my gaze locked on three warlocks

standing there drinking.

A heavy tugging in my gut almost knocked me over.

Logan, Giant aka Noah, and the third of their crew who I’d coined Weasel, due to his beady eyes, stood right behind Marcus.

This was the first time I’d been close to Logan since the lake, and I almost ran right for him to demand answers before I

remembered it was a party.

None of us wanted to chat about almost dying at a party.

Turning away before they noticed me staring, I returned my attention to Marcus, only to find him deep in conversation with

a witch.

A very pretty witch, with long blond hair and a flirty smile.

Ah, fuck.

There went that plan.