Page 28 of The Spell Caster

Calamus stood up with me. “Of course. Thank you, it was so nice getting to talk with you.”

“I’ll see you around,” I said, carrying my plate to the compost and dish collection.

I released a stuck breath as I stepped back out onto the walkway. Something about Calamus put me on edge. I wasn’t sure I could measure up to his standards.

That wasn’t fair, though—it was my own insecurity talking. He was kind, intelligent, and pleasing to look at. A spell caster.

You could do worse, my mind whispered.

Wasn’t Calamus exactly what I’d always pictured in a lover? I didn’t feel an immediate spark, but I’d just been through the worst few days of my life. Why wouldn’t I fall for those baby blue eyes if I got to know him better?

I found a large clothing exchange a few doors down with an open front displaying racks of outfits that no one was using. Witches would return clothes in good condition when they outgrew them or no longer wanted them, leaving an ever-rotating supply of new outfits.

Signs directed me to the dress section, and I scooped up a few party dresses to try on at home. I had a pair of sandals that would match any of them.

On the opposite side of the walkway was a tailor with a pile of fabric grocery bags stacked in front of their small booth. I picked a bag, and the large witch hunched over a sewing machine behind the counter lifted a hand in thanks without raising their eyes from their work.

My final stop was the provisionary. It was a slender but deep building with a single row of shelves on one side and banks of refrigerators on the other. The shelves and coolers were full of containers of prepared foods, where I picked up a tin of the same fruit bars Sativa had given me this morning, a bag of seasoned snacks, and a box of assorted cookies. I stashed my goodies in my bag and folded the dresses on top.

At the front, there was a carafe of iced, sweetened coffee and a stack of mismatched glasses, so I poured a cup to go and wandered back to my apartment.

Juni had abandoned their gardening at some point. I finished my coffee and picked up weeding another of the beds until the sun began to dip low against the hills and my covenmates showed up to get ready for the party.

Chapter 7

COSTI

Ash was in a mood. Hell, I was in a mood. But Ash was usually the responsible one who would keep me from doing things like crashing the harvest party so I could stalk a pretty spell caster. Tonight, Ash had been all too supportive of sneaking out of the barracks.

We weren’t adjusting well to our new Circle.

I’d dragged one of the standing tables over into the shadows to hold our drinks. Hard liquor and leaning against the wall in the dark didn’t seem to be helping much.

“I hate it here already,” Ash said over the music. They’d put their hair up, but neither of us had bothered to change out of our uniforms. Black was great for sneaking around.

Ash had just arrived at the Mountain Circle after making it through the battle that three of our fellow guardians didn’t. To top it off, their new assignment—one of the Mountain Circle casters—had already been giving them trouble.

I made a noise of agreement, but my mind was elsewhere. I should never have agreed to transport Layla here. I had been doing so well, staying the fuck away from her. A year of convincing myself ruined by the feeling of her in my arms.

I’d tried my best to avoid her, dreading when the time came to talk about the plan for me to be her guardian. That was a conversation that would never happen now, but the problem remained. I wanted her. Couldn’t have her. Didn’t trust anyone else to defend her.

I had to get it through my head—not becoming her guardian was a good thing.

I needed to focus on the problems at hand. What exactly are the angels up to?

And what was wrong with Layla’s magic? That, I was allowed to think about. Having functional spell casters was more important than ever.

A third witch sauntered over to us. Holly. I was sick of her antics lately. She was dressed for the holiday in a harvest-gold number that showed off her long legs. She’d let her dark hair grow out longer in the past year, and whatever she’d done to style it tonight had fluffed it up like she was trying to look more like Layla. I hated it.

She smiled teasingly, propping her hand on a hip. “Are you two allowed to be here?”

I grunted. “Probably not. There’s a bunch of guidelines.”

Holly raised her eyebrows at me. “And you’re supposed to follow the guidelines.” She turned to Ash with a smirk. “And I can’t believe you of all witches would condone this scandalous behavior.”

Ash’s eyes glinted. “What do you want, Holly?”

She stepped back. “Fate, the two of you are a real treat tonight. Sneaking out, drinking alone, being grumpy in the corner.” Her calculating gaze slid back to me. “I was hoping we could talk.”

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