Page 28 of Spellcaster (Weatherstone College #1)

“Ahhhhhhhh!! It’s so fucking good to be home.”

“Trevor!” Mom admonished, as he threw himself onto the couch. “You’re not at college now, son.”

It was the Festival of the Moon Goddess holiday weekend, and Weatherstone gave all of us Friday off so we could visit family.

Dad had opened our transport not twenty minutes ago, and after dumping our bags in our rooms, we were making the most of our

time together.

Jenna and Alice had already headed out the back to greet the various squirrels, rabbits, birds, and other creatures living

in the forests behind the fence. The rest of us were sprawled around the living room, settling in like those old times I’d been mourning.

“Mom,” Jensen whined. “I’m starving. Please tell me you’re making tacos. And paella. And lasagna.”

Goddesses, I’d missed Mom’s cooking too. Even though Weatherstone was amazing, nothing compared to Mom’s food. Her salmon

sushi, made completely from scratch, was the meal I’d request for my last dinner on Earth.

Mom stood in the doorway with Dad by her side, his arms wrapped around her waist. If they were in a room together, they were touching.

She smiled as Jenna and Alice stomped inside once more, ditching their muddy boots at the door.

“I’ll make all your favorites.” Her voice rasped. “I’m just so happy you’re all home.”

Blinking away the heat in my own eyes, I tried to remember what Jenna had said. These moments might be coming to an end for

us as a family of six, but eventually we’d find new traditions and moments. It wasn’t a loss, it was change and growth, and

I’d embrace it just as fiercely.

Our first night at home was one of the most relaxing I’d experienced in a long time. No monsters, no eerie feeling of being

watched, no dreams of Logan fucking Kingston. We watched movies until midnight, we ate everything Mom put in front of us,

and we chatted about our lives. Jensen told us in detail about his time at the ocean, and the animals he saw beneath the surface.

We also learned about Trevor’s new girlfriend. “She’s an elemental too,” he said, and fuck if his cheeks weren’t a touch pink.

“We’ve been dating for a few weeks.”

The fact that he was even mentioning her to us meant that he liked her. His expression closed off after that though, so no

one got anything further from him.

“Any news on the monsters or attack?” I asked Dad, scooping up queso with a corn chip and shoving it into my mouth. I’d been

eating all afternoon, and my stomach reminded me that we were at our limit and should stop. An excellent idea that I would

not be taking into consideration.

“They’re investigating.” Dad leaned back in his chair, eyes darkening with a brief whoosh of heat from his energy. “They want

to blanket the energy of the school, lock down any magic that’s stronger than level two. But that would also inhibit their

ability to track whoever created that monster in the first place. So, for now, we’re in a holding pattern.”

Level two was basic spells. Enough for most college-level magics, but nothing strong enough to call a murderous insect on steroids.

“They’re not using their affinity to create monsters,” Jenna said with a shrug. “There’s no affinity associated with monsters.

If it were me, personally, I’d be checking the library to see who touched books about dark magic.”

I almost choked on my next chip but managed to keep myself together. My energy would be found all over those books if they

followed that route, because I’d been trying to research these monsters for months.

“There are no books in our public library which would detail this sort of magic,” Dad said seriously. “We think a student

is being fed the magic and/or the means to do this.”

“Like from a parent?”

Dad nodded at me, and I let that marinate. That possibility was why Logan remained on my list of suspects—Rafael Kingston.

Mom was quiet through the conversation, and I didn’t like that blank look on her face. She’d checked out, so I decided to

check her back in. “Mom, are you okay?”

Her expression softened, and life returned to her eyes. “It’s just... this feels very much like that day in the forest

where we were attacked.” She didn’t mention Logan’s mom, but she was part of the we in that sentence. “I mean, it was a shadow of energy but—” She cleared her throat, and Dad rubbed his hand across her shoulders

in a soothing manner. “She was torn apart in the same way. With Logan in the school now, it just feels close to home.”

Dad huffed. “I haven’t dismissed the Kingstons’ involvement. But I’ve been watching Logan, and he’s not shown any signs of

abusing his powers. Not one time. Even if he was pretending to be the perfect student, it’s been months. Hard to hold a facade

for that length of time.”

It would be hard, but not impossible, especially if you were as capable and powerful as Logan.

The Kingstons had eighteen years to plan out their revenge, and I wasn’t buying into the few months of Logan’s hero act.

He remained on my list and would until there was another truly viable suspect.

The girls and I had made a list of students in the school, and evaluated whether any of them had the power to do this.

Outside of maybe one or two, there were none, but we didn’t know their parents.

In that case, it could be anyone.

When we eventually went to bed, I lay there for a long time unable to sleep. The spellcaster was on my mind, icy green eyes

haunting my waking hours along with my dreams now. Part of me hated him, my chest burning with a rage hotter than Trevor’s

magma, but there was another part, small though it might be, which hated myself more.

Because I couldn’t fully hate Logan.

Why the Hel did he have to be powerful, gorgeous, arrogant, and smart? Oh, and as an added bonus, the bastard was also tall.

It was too much. The goddess wasn’t supposed to give with both hands. Though, he could possibly be evil, which was a massive

checkmark in the turnoff column.

Eventually I fell asleep, clutching a large piece of uncut jade to ward off bad dreams. With a touch of luck, it would ward

off all dreams so I didn’t get caught up in sexy times with my hand while at home. Thinking about Logan before bed was absolutely

a mistake, but the goddess had mercy on me that night, or the crystal worked, because the next morning I woke late and without

a single dream.

Saturday was spent in a similar fashion to Friday night, with more food, more movies, and a delightful afternoon nap.

Just before dinner, I found myself in the attic with Dad as he cleaned out a bunch of boxes Mom wanted him to drop at the dump.

“She wants to put in a new crafting room,” he explained.

“She’s moving on to knitting and yarning. ”

Mom dabbled in crafting, and our house was filled with the different projects she had started and succeeded at over the years.

“What’s even in these boxes?” I asked, coughing as I shifted one and a cloud of dust emerged.

“I have no idea. Have a look through and see if there’s anything of yours, otherwise it all has to go.”

Most of the boxes I opened were junk. Broken kitchen appliances, old clothes from when we were kids, and a lot of our old

artwork. I kept a few pieces that I found hilarious, like the one where I’d drawn Mom with huge boobs and Dad with a bald

head. I was three at the time, but memories lasted forever.

Dad started to haul the boxes down the stairs as I went through them, and by the time the last one was waiting for me to check,

he called up that he was having a break, and he didn’t care what was left up there.

“You used your magic half the time, old man,” I called back.

His chuckle wafted up to me. “Don’t tell your mom that. She’s about to rub my shoulders.”

Thank fuck he said shoulders . Though knowing them, it was still too much information. I knew shoulder rubs were only the beginning. Or I would know, if I wasn’t currently in the worst dry patch of my life.

“Don’t hurry back,” I shouted down, sitting on my butt beside the last box, ripping off the dusty, yellowing tape.

This box looked older than the others we’d cleared, and as I opened it a sweet floral scent arose. There was no mustiness

with it, which surprised me. On top sat a black-and-white photo of an unsmiling witch. For a beat I thought it was Mom, until

I read the caption to find it was her mom . Gran. I’d never met her, but she looked so much like Mom that it weirdly hurt to look at her photo. The thought of my mom dying was too much to bear.

Placing the photo to the side, I found a bunch of letters below, all addressed to Beth Hallistar. I paused at the sight of

Mom’s name, realizing that Gran had written letters to her, but they were all unopened, the yellowing envelopes sealed up

completely. Since it wasn’t my place to snoop through her memories, I placed them to the side as well, and looked at what

else the box contained. It was mostly photos and patterned teacups, but in the bottom I found two silver necklaces with crystal

pendants attached that had my greedy heart leaping as I tried to figure out if I could claim them.

Leaving the crystals on my knee, I shifted through more photos, looking closer this time. I was surprised to find many of

them were of crystals and gems—not that I should have been since her obsession was as well-known as mine. There were short

sentences on the back of pics, and some of the specific pieces I recognized, as they were in my collection. My largest piece

of quartz, which was shaped almost like a rose, had the words: Use quartz to draw in moon energy and increase power.

A few of the other photos showed Gran again, wearing a crystal necklace. In one, she was wearing all three. The two I’d found

in this box and the one Mom had already gifted me.

“Paisley, dinner is ready!” Mom called, and I hurriedly packed everything back into the box except the two necklaces. “Wash

your hands, honey,” she added as I strode into the kitchen.

She pulled a dish out of the oven and caught my eye, her smile turning into a chuckle. “On second thought, maybe you should

have a quick shower.”

I felt grimy, and no doubt looked even worse. “I found these necklaces in a box of Gran’s old stuff,” I said, holding them up. “The stones aren’t familiar, but would it be okay if I wore them?”

Mom barely glanced at them. “Absolutely, baby. You know I don’t have any sentimental value to Mom’s crystals.”

Losing her mom at such a young age protected her from sad memories, so she mostly mourned the concept of having a mother.

She always told me that Pops had been an amazing substitute, raising her by himself, and when he died last year, every single

one of us lost an important part of ourselves.

Mom never lacked love growing up, but I knew she would always grieve the mother she should have had. “There are some letters

from her for you up there as well,” I felt the need to add, already guessing that Mom wouldn’t care.

She smiled at me over the stove, stirring stew in the large silver pot. “Thanks. I’ll check them out later.”

I highly doubted that, but it was her right to do what she wanted with them. Maybe she was afraid that she’d find a new pain

inside those scented pages. I couldn’t blame her for trying to avoid that. Since that day in the forest, Mom had made a decision

to live in her protective bubble, and as long as she was happy, I was happy.

She knew her limit, and mental health was important, so she’d get no argument from me. She’d managed to exist for well over

forty years without her mother’s words, so there was surely nothing urgent in there anyway.

Dinner went by in a flash, and then we were down to our last day at home.

“Tomorrow we visit Blessed Souls,” Mom reminded us as we traipsed up the stairs for bed. “To send our thanks to Selene. Dress

nicely.”

Like the twins, Blessed Souls was my top choice for a coven too, and since they rarely took in candidates not from Weatherstone—the largest sponsor of their programs—I finally had a real shot at the future I’d always hoped for.

Provided a monster didn’t take me out first.

Being home had stoked the fire in my belly. I was no longer content to passively sit back and wait for another attack. All

the research was one thing, but I’d also decided to start actively tracking Logan through the school. Dad put the idea in

my head, but he was also a professor who couldn’t just hang around students in their private hours. Logan was very unlikely

to show his true colors in classes, or at official events.

Nope. It would be after hours. In the dark. When he thought no one was watching.

Which was perfect. From here on out, I’d be at the parties and behind the scenes however I could. Stalkcaster was about to

find himself with his very own stalker.

Lucky warlock.

I was going to stick to his ass like glue and hope his secrets unraveled before me.