Page 44 of The Spell Caster

The next few days were a monotony of reading through my library books without finding anything useful and continuing my apartment beautification project.

I was half-heartedly assisted by Sativa, who regaled me with stories about her lovers. She had three—all spell casters—and they had some convoluted marriage plans to get around the Circle’s requirements. She was in good spirits about the situation, but it bothered me. Every other aspect of witch society was based around choice and consensus.

I went to see a mediator about my parents, worried for my dad. If my mother had taken to violence, he wouldn’t be safe either. The receptionist expressed concern, but I couldn’t get a meeting for some time. With the influx of refugees from the Northern Sea Circle and the issues with dissolving our Council, they were swamped. I would have to find a way to check on him without my mother catching me. He usually left his phone with her, so I couldn’t call. But I could find where they were staying and wait for her to leave.

I hadn’t heard from Costi, other than a short reply to my text to see if he was alive. For the last few years, we hadn’t talked regularly, just catching up when we could, but since the attack, it had felt different. I thought it was different.

We still hadn’t talked about the party, and I began to feel nervous about him in a way I wasn’t used to, worrying we weren’t on the same page. Maybe he’d decided Holly was right after all, that I wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he’d realized she was a better choice. Maybe something was wrong. Maybe my mother had threatened him and was keeping him away from me.

I hadn’t intended on bothering him, but I ended up at the training arena around the time he should have been done with his shift. Several of the Mountain Circle casters were still lined up in the open practice area, their familiars beside them as they practiced blasting small spells at the targets on the wall.

I walked through on the opposite side to the back of the facility, taken up by partitioned rooms with training equipment for guardians. I peeked into several of them before I found him.

I stopped in my tracks, staring.

This room was set up with a machine that flung heavy chunks of dried clay from above. An approximation of an angel attack, I supposed—and a dangerous one. The floor was covered with sharp shards.

Costi stood directly in the line of fire.

He was incredible. Whirling with a sword that looked heavier than me, he moved like water, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his black uniform as he bashed one heavy brick after another, sending pieces flying.

It was mesmerizing and violent, like a thunderstorm. My heart twisted with sharp longing. I was supposed to be part of this with him. Supposed to be his spell caster.

The onslaught ended, and he lowered his sword, breathing heavily for a moment before he turned and saw me, startling slightly.

Sweat and brick dust clung to him. I wanted to run my hands through his messy hair and—

Fate, he’s attractive.

“What’s wrong?”

I blinked. I’m supposed to be yours. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing new, anyway. I just… haven’t seen you.”

He laid the sword on a bench, grabbing a towel to wipe his face.

“Are you okay?” I tried to catch his stormy eyes.

“Yeah,” he growled, grabbing a water bottle to take a swig, his throat working. “No,” he amended quietly.

“What is it? Did my mother—”

Costi shook his head. “Nothing like that.”

He turned away from me, adjusting the straps on what looked like a sword sheath. He wouldn’t look at me. Something was wrong.

“You and Grey, huh?”

“What?” My brain blinked an error message.

“He took you out.”

Oh. “You heard about that?”

“He hasn’t shut up about it for days,” Costi said, throwing gear into a duffel bag recklessly. “Seems real caught up in you.”

Costi turned to me then, and the raw look on his face made my insides churn and my heart flip over.

He really thinks… he’s actually…

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