Page 25 of The Spell Caster

“We can’t date guardians,” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one else heard me.

Oliver snickered. “Who said anything about dating?”

Sativa rolled her eyes. “It’s just some weird thing our parents made up anyway. Probably to make sure more spell casters get born. I’d give a guardian a try, at least once. I bet they’re good in bed, very athletic.”

“You would not,” Oliver said, and turned to me. “She’s been with the same three casters for over a year. They’re practically married.”

“Are we not going to mention that Grey had hearts popping out of his eyes and Blackthorn was about to murder him?” Datura gleefully piled fuel onto the raging trash fire.

“Oh no, we’re definitely going to mention that,” said Oliver excitedly.

“Rival fight!” Sativa and Datura howled in unison, pumping up their fists.

My face burned with embarrassment. My stomach lurched, and I swallowed down the urge to throw up as the magic I had pulled in wreaked havoc with my body. “I have to go.”

“Layla?” Sativa cried after me as I hurried from the arena.

I fortunately remembered the way back to our coven apartment, where I just made it before miserably retching up the remains of my fruit bar into the toilet. I gave brushing my teeth an attempt, took a tincture of willow bark for the pain, then crawled into bed fully dressed.

My head throbbed with unreleased magic, but at least the nausea had subsided. I would have a headache for several more hours at least. I couldn’t be sure how much I had pulled in—it was always more than I realized. I should have known better.

I should have been better.

I wished I was someone naturally confident like Sativa, and well put together like Holly. Anyone other than me—this cold and uptight perfectionist who failed at the single task life had requested of her. Someone who couldn’t even defend herself against mild teasing, who couldn’t control her magic whatsoever, who needed Costi to help her with everything because she had no clue how anything worked.

A screwup.

***

I woke up hours later from a deep sleep, feeling cottony and thirsty, but it seemed most of the magic had worked itself out of my body. My skin always felt sensitive afterward. I imagined it was from the magic evaporating out of my pores, but I had no actual understanding of how it worked.

I stomped to the kitchen, washing out a glass because there weren’t any clean ones and then filling it with water. My covenmates didn’t seem to be home.

Now that I wasn’t in pain, I was angry.

It wasn’t my idea to join Mountain Thunder. What made them think they could just laugh at me like that? There wasn’t anything going on with me and Costi anyway. Even if… even if I wanted there to be, he was an adult with an important role, and I was a hot mess barely out of school and four years younger than him. Not to mention the guardians would kick him out for even thinking about it.

His inked, muscular body, intense gray eyes, and the wicked grin hiding his golden heart came to my mind unbidden. He never talked about lovers, but if he wanted one, he could have his pick. The label of Troubled wouldn’t stop anyone at all if they got a look at him.

He certainly wouldn’t be fist-fighting his spell caster over me. There weren’t a pair of witches in all the Circles that would start a rival fight over me. The notion was ridiculous. I was beginning to realize that my new coven was absolutely obsessed with drama, and if they didn’t find some, they would make it.

I dug around on the messy counter and in random cabinets until I found a container marked Baked Rosemary Crackers with a date last week. I sniffed them to confirm that they were, in fact, recently baked rosemary crackers before nibbling on one absently.

I sighed, some of my anger dissipating. That was probably all it was. My covenmates liked stirring things up. This wasn’t personal. They seemed nice enough. I might have even appreciated their snarky humor if I hadn’t just fled for my life and had my world destroyed. If I made an effort to get along with them, I thought we could be friends. At least Sativa and Oliver seemed willing. Datura might come around if I didn’t let her get to me.

I took my bounty back to my room with a fresh glass of water and noticed a note on my door I hadn’t seen on my way out.

Sorry if we went overboard. Harvest party tonight, want to go? —S

Sativa left her number below, so I texted her with my response.

Hey, this is Layla. Sorry if I overreacted. I pulled too much magic and got sick. Yes to the party, let me know what time.

There. That was perfect. I’d go to a party with my coven and try to bond with them. Maybe I could find some fun gossip to share.

That sucks, Sativa texted back. Hope you feel better. We’re leaving at 9, you can walk over with us.

My mood lifted. Because of my summoning failure, I had missed all the graduation parties and had been drowning in stress since then. I could definitely use the chance to unwind.

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