Page 47 of The Spell Caster

“One of the spell casters didn’t make it. At least one. The angels knew to target them.”

I shuddered. “They’ve gotten smarter somehow.”

Costi made a noise of agreement, his eyelids dropping. I fetched a damp cloth from the bathroom and cleaned his face and neck as best I could. He submitted with a smirk but didn’t open his eyes. The older cut on his forehead had soot smashed into it and looked like it was going to leave a scar.

I stepped outside to call the infirmary and received a scolding on his behalf. I rolled my eyes. Trying to keep Costi contained was like trying to build a fence to keep the sea in. They instructed me to pick up his first aid supplies later in the morning—bandages, burn cream, antibiotics, painkillers. Fate.

When I returned to my bedroom, Costi’s breathing was heavy and even. He was sprawled sideways, taking up most of my bed. I could have used the room’s second bed, but I wanted to be near him, to know he was alive and breathing, so I curled up beside him, careful not to bump him.

I was achingly tired, but my thoughts continued to keep me awake. I hadn’t spent much time considering the future or how the world worked, and now those things loomed, uncertainties building on uncertainties into a terrifying unknown. The knowledge of our lack of control and our fragile mortality made me tremble.

My restless movements must have woken Costi, as he rolled carefully to put an arm over me. He smelled like ashes as he pulled me close. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He understood without a word.

Chapter 10

LAYLA

Iwoke up sooner than I expected, feeling groggy. I sat up gently, looking Costi over in the muted light filtering through the shades. He was sleeping soundly without any sign of pain or discomfort. My eyes lingered a moment on his tattoos, an artistic tangle of designs that spilled over his chest and upper arm. I wondered what they meant to him—the swirling waves, leaves, a flying owl. The roses blooming over his heart. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, even covered in grime and bandages with his clothes destroyed.

I quietly pulled out something to wear and headed to the bathroom to shower and change. When I came out, I found Oliver, uncharacteristically without Datura attached to him, layering peanut butter onto a piece of toast.

“Layla’s got a lover,” he sang loudly, waving the knife around.

I shushed him urgently, shoving down a misplaced surge of approval. “It’s Costi. The mission went horribly wrong last night. He’s hurt.”

Oliver straightened, his face shifting to uncharacteristic concern. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

I swallowed. “I don’t know. I don’t… think so. I heard… someone died. Costi’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Fate,” Oliver said faintly.

I nodded, biting the inside of my lip. I filled a glass of water from the tap.

“Do you need… um… any help?”

I needed so much help at this point. “Does our coven have a mentor?”

“Ah, yeah. I’m sure he wanted to come by and meet you, but he’s been caught up in getting the Northern Sea folks settled. I’ll text you his number.” He brightened, seeming to feel better now that he had a task.

“Thanks,” I said.

Returning to my room, I left the water on the nightstand in case Costi woke up. Then I stole his phone.

In my defense, it had fallen out of his pocket, and he didn’t keep it locked. The screen was badly cracked, but it lit up. I cringed, seeing dozens of missed calls. I pulled up his contacts, found Ash’s number, and entered it into my own phone.

The call rang through as I was walking away from the apartment. I hadn’t expected Ash to answer an unknown caller, but the line picked up.

“Hello?” came a wary voice.

“Hey, Ash, it’s Layla. Costi’s friend.”

“Is he with you?” they asked urgently.

“He’s at my apartment, sleeping.”

They sighed loudly. “Why is he like this?”

“I don’t know. He says it’s not trauma.”

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