Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(24)

He handed Sara and Haley theirs, before holding mine out and helping me into it. “I should murder you,” I said as I slipped my arms into the sleeves. “What the Hel were you thinking pulling us onstage? Going incognito doesn’t work when you choose friends to serenade.”

Noah answered with soft laughter. “That was Logan’s attempt at flirting. He’s just terrible at it.”

The scowl Logan shot his way would have scared a lesser warlock. “I’m terrible at nothing, asshole. Precious might be a tough nut to crack, but I’m chipping away.”

An undeniable truth. “So, what’s the plan now?” I asked, desperate for a subject change before I slipped up and revealed just how close Logan was to cracking my nut. Tobias stepped closer, and without his mask of magic, we could see his handsome features. He had messy blond waves, longer on top and short on the sides. His face was clean-cut, with an aristocratic nose and dark brown eyes.

“We’re heading to our place in the city,” he said with a casual shrug. “You ladies want to join us?”

Haley piped up first. “Hel yes, we’d love to join you. The night is still very young.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sara huffed. “We should hit some clubs. I need drinks and dancing, in that order.”

“Aw, come on, love,” Tobias said, stepping closer even though Sara couldn’t be giving off stronger don’t touch me vibes. “Don’t be like that. You’ll spoil your friend’s fun.”

I had no idea why she’d instantly disliked him so much, but she was making no attempt to hide her disdain. “I’m not your love, love.” She mimicked his accent and I tried not to laugh.

Tobias pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Sara. Shot through the heart.”

“If only that was the truth,” she said with her sweetest smile before swinging around to Haley and me. “If you two want to go back to their creepy, serial-killer pad, I’ll tag along to make sure they don’t wear you as skin suits. But that’s all I’m there for.”

Logan’s laughter was warm and enticing, and I wanted to press against the heat of his magic.

“I spent all year keeping this one alive,” he said, brushing a hand across the bare skin between my neck and coat, “and as pretty as her skin is, I’d rather it stayed perfectly intact on her body.”

Noah—clearly riding the same euphoric high from their concert as the other two—wore an actual smile, softening his scary exterior. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The party in the warehouse was only getting started by the sound of it, but backstage everything was being broken down and stored. Logan led us to a door off to the side, and after making sure no one was in the vicinity, he opened another portal for us to step through.

“Quickest way,” he said when I raised an eyebrow at his continued illegal activities. As long as he didn’t get caught, I honestly wasn’t fazed by his loose interpretation of the law.

We emerged in a marble-lined entrance, outside of a double set of white and gold doors. Behind us was a single elevator, and there were no other rooms on what was clearly the penthouse floor in an expensive apartment building.

“Whoa. One of you is rich,” Haley said, wide-eyed.

“I’d hazard a guess all of them are,” Sara said with a huff, as if she were mortally offended by their wealth. Outside of Belle, who had a father on the council, the rest of us were solidly lower middle class. There wasn’t any extravagance in our lives.

“Remember, what’s mine is yours, Precious,” Logan murmured, leaving me flustered as he opened the doors—without touching them, of course.

“I’m extremely rich,” Tobias drawled. “Like my family is related to the royal family and we have billions sort of rich.”

Sara shot him the fakest smile I’d ever seen. “The third after your name kind of clued us in on the rich and royal.” She made a show of sidling past the warlock without touching him. “And the fact that you used the third after your name clued us in on your douchebaggery. We know all we need to.”

The general air of joviality he’d been rocking faded as he watched her enter the apartment. It wasn’t darkness in his gaze exactly, but she’d struck a nerve. It wasn’t like Sara to be so judgmental, but this warlock rubbed her the wrong way.

“It’s all good, moneybags,” I said, patting his muscled arm. “We won’t judge you for your bank account, if you don’t judge us for our lack thereof.”

That sliver of darkness faded from his eyes. “No judgment from me. Your little friend isn’t wrong about money turning witches and warlocks into douchebags. My family is chock-full of sanctimonious bastards, and I’ve done my best to escape. This band saved my life. I’d take homelessness before I returned to the Brietlin fold. Thank the goddess for a trust fund that’s free and clear of the rest.”

It was a shame that Sara missed that little speech; it would have gone a long way to softening her ire.

Inside, the apartment was no less extravagant, but it was warmer. White-and-gold marble floors were covered by thick plush rugs, mostly in shades of black and white. We took our shoes off at the entrance, and I was relieved to be free of the heels.

Padding along the nicely warmed flooring, we ended up in a huge open-plan living, kitchen, and dining space. It spanned across what felt like the entire level and had floor-to-ceiling windows, similar in style to the ones in Logan’s farmhouse.