Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)

Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)

Jaymin Eve



Dedication

To those who fight their monsters in the dark.

You are not alone.

We fight together.




Chapter 1




Music pumped around me. It was Eighties Night, and as Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” blasted through the rink, I skated past a lilac-haired chick with heavy eyeliner, hip checking her in the side and sending her flying. “Bitch,” she screeched, tumbling into the wall, but I didn’t look back. She’d been gunning for me all night; I just got the first decent hit in.

Roller Derby was therapeutic, and I was all about keeping my temper in check these days. This was the perfect solution to working off my frustrations.

When the event was over, and I’d been hit more than once myself, I dragged my sorry, exhausted ass off the floor and up to the booth where I’d left my sneakers. Switching out of my skates, I hobbled over to my cubby to stash them, then made my way to the counter to finish my shift. But before I got there, a shout grabbed my attention.

“Paisley Hallistar, you are fucking brutal.”

Spinning with a shriek, I threw myself at Sara Collier, one of my best friends from Weatherstone College. I wrapped my arms around her, and she made happy noises as we rocked back and forth and hugged through “Like a Prayer” by Madonna.

My eyes were damp when I pulled away to look her over. Dressed in her skinny jeans, a tight red sweater, and red heels, she looked gorgeous. “You actually made it.” Swiping at my cheeks to catch any escaped tears, I was surprised to find a smile on my face. A real smile. For the first time in a month.

“Of course I did. You needed me, girl, and now that I’m back from Romania, you’ve got me for as long as it takes.”

“Haley?” I asked, checking in on our other bestie, Haley Michaels, who’d been trying to make this trip as well.

The three of us had been separated since the end of the school year, during which I’d had everything I knew about myself and my life torn apart.

Sara shook her head, and a fraction of my excitement faded. “Her dad’s injury is worse than they thought. She’s going to stay and help out for a few more days. But she’ll meet us in the city for your dad’s trial.”

Haley’s dad had broken his right leg, left arm, and a few ribs at his job on the docks. A cable had snapped, sending heavy boxes tumbling down around him. They didn’t have money for healers, so he was going to have to go about it the human way, which meant a fairly extensive recovery process.

“I’ll send another care package,” I said, lifting my long hair off my sweaty neck in search of a cool breeze. Winter might be approaching, but this room was always packed and stifling during derby nights.

“I’ll go halves,” Sara said, before she grabbed my hand again. “I’m so excited to finally be here. Sleepover at Paisley’s. After you tell me all the news, of course.”

Technically, I was still on shift, but my boss wouldn’t care with the night winding down, so I dragged Sara over to the chairs in the corner and we collapsed together. “I have so much to tell you,” I said as we faced each other. “I’ve been scared to text details because this is crazy shit.”

Sara didn’t look surprised—I might have been cagey in texts and calls, but she knew the basics from last year and what I’d managed to convey in cryptic messages. “I’ve got the rest of winter break, so spill everything.”

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to organize my thoughts before deciding there was no making sense of what had happened. Lowering my voice to a sliver above a whisper, I said, “I’m the one who created the monsters.”

Might as well hit her with the biggie and hope her first instinct wasn’t to punch—or hex—me. Or worse, report me to the High Council of Magic.

I trusted my friends, but after Belle—the fourth of our friendship group, and the one I was trying my best not to think about—spilled my secrets to her father last year, it was hard to not have doubts. Even if I was fairly sure that particular friend had innocently dropped my ass in the fire.

To Sara’s credit, she didn’t freak out. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted, but she remained silent.

“I didn’t know,” I hurried to add. “It’s to do with my affinity, and what I think is a recessive gene that allows me to touch previously off-limit planes of existence. I don’t know if it means I’m just a beefed-up necromancer or what, but there’s a difference in my magic.”

A magic I still knew very little about and that wasn’t under my control.

Sara’s eyes grew even wider, until she resembled an anime character. “It killed someone,” she blurted as the color drained from her pretty features.

I closed my eyes, forcing panic and disgust back inside the box where I’d been shoving them for weeks. Knowing I was directly to blame for the death of a student had given me a new set of nightmares to add to the old ones, making me wake up screaming more than once.

“I’m trying to figure out how to live with that,” I said when I could face her again. My emotions were locked down hard because I couldn’t lose it. Not ever again. “I don’t know what to do once the monsters are here. I can’t get angry or upset, because it could trigger another event, and I’m not sure I can even go back to Weatherstone next year.”