Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(6)

“Yes, I’m good, witch. Fuck off and do your job.”

Ah, the love.

We were in the human world, but her use of the word witch wouldn’t cause any issues. Humans would just assume it was a substitute for bitch, and in a way, it was.

James eyed me closely as I hurried behind the counter and grabbed a cloth, ready to wipe down the benches. “You okay, Hallistar?” he asked, the bright blue of his eyes deepening as he watched me.

His parents owned this place, and he’d been the manager for the last two years. He was twenty-five and the most relaxed human I’d ever met. He didn’t sweat the small shit and let me skate as much as I needed to get out of my own head. It didn’t hurt that he was hot, even if he wasn’t my type. Tall, blond, blue-eyed, and tanned. He looked like a Californian surfer, except he hated swimming and would rather snowboard.

“All good,” I shot back, with a sassy wink. “Just ready to wipe some tables.”

He was propped against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest as he drawled, “Yeah, you’ve always been my most enthusiastic cleaner.”

Whoops. Yeah, cleaning wasn’t my strong suit. Magic took care of it at home, so I was rather lazy in that department.

“Work in progress,” I said with a shrug.

His smirk turned into a nice laugh. “Your progress is fine. Now get that cute ass to work.”

He was a flirt, and I didn’t even blink twice when he mentioned my ass. He’d never made any sort of move on me, and I figured by now that this was just how our friendship rolled.

A customer came up to rent skates and he turned away to serve them. As I got to work on a sticky table, my phone buzzed, and I immediately pulled it from my back pocket to read the message:

Stalkcaster: James Bronson wants to die.





My heart fucking stopped. The phone slipped from my fingers, and it was only the threadbare red carpet that stopped it from smashing. With panicked heartbeats filling my ears, I turned and glanced across the rink, but I couldn’t see Logan anywhere.

“Paisley.” I jerked when a strong hand wrapped around my wrist, only to find James’s concerned face in front of me. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Shit. Fuck. Shit and fuck.

He held my phone, and I snatched it back to stop him reading the message. But he caught my wrist again and scanned the screen still lit up in my hand.

“What is this about?” he murmured, and I yanked on his hold, silently demanding he release me. “Do you have a jealous boyfriend waiting in the wings, Paisley?” He lifted his head and searched the room just as I’d done.

I shook my head, violently. “No! He’s just an asshole. Ignore him. His bark is worse than his bite.” Absolute fucking lie. Logan could wipe James out of existence with a flick of his energy.

Thankfully, when I tugged on my hand again, James released me and my phone. “Are you in trouble, Paisley?” His normally lighthearted expression was serious. “Do you need my help? Because I’m here for whatever you need.”

My phone buzzed, and we both looked at it.

Stalkcaster: He has ten seconds, Precious.





I could practically feel Logan’s fury and magic radiating around us.

I took a step away from James, and then another. “I’m totally fine,” I assured him, needing him to believe me. “We should get to work.” I waved to where two girls were waiting at the counter. Tiffany and Gertie came in here at least twice a week to flirt with James.

James examined me closely, and it was clear that he thought I was hiding from an abusive ex. Or something equally as nefarious.

Turning away from him, and hoping he’d take a hint and leave me alone, I quickly searched the room once more, but there was no sign of Logan. I shot back a quick text.

Paisley: Back the Hel off, fuckwit. James is my friend and that’s all. Even if he wasn’t, you don’t get to dictate any part of my life. We screwed once. Stop being creepy.





I shoved my phone back in my pocket and got to work.

The next couple of hours passed quickly. James kept an annoyingly close eye on me, even as I took a break to give Sara some lessons. It turned out she was completely correct when she said if I put her on wheels she was going to die.

“You’re not normally clumsy,” I said with a burst of laughter as I grabbed her to stop a face-plant for the twentieth time. “What’s happening here?”

She couldn’t keep her balance, no matter how I tried to guide her. Eventually we gave up and ate nachos and drank soda for thirty minutes before I was hauled back to work by James.

My phone buzzed more than once during my shift, but I resolutely ignored it.

By the time Candace arrived to relieve me, I was exhausted, mostly from the tension of expecting Logan to show his face. Despite the messages indicating he was watching, he never made an actual appearance.

“Ready to go?” I slumped on the couch next to Sara.

She threw back the last of her wine—she’d finished a bottle to calm her nerves after skate lessons—and jumped to her feet. “Go where? Can we go dancing? I need to burn off some of my powe—energy.” She glanced around, but no humans were paying us any attention.

As a fully bloomed witch, I understood the fire in her blood.