Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(66)

My magic pulsed as I closed in on the arched, gateless entrance. There was no need for a barrier, with the warding keeping out those not of blood. As my bonded mate, Logan should be able to enter with me—this would be the first real test of our magical connection.

“Yeah, I was here with Mom when I was younger. I know the way.”

Reaching out, I grasped his hand, heat unfurling through me as he laced our fingers together. “You know how to release your magic now, don’t you,” Logan said. “Those blocks I used to have to break through are all but gone.”

I nod. “Yeah, it’s because my affinity should be used in conjunction with other reapers.”

I’d never be as strong without others of my affinity, but I also wasn’t a complete dud now that I’d figured out how to tap into the reaper side.

Logan captured me in a fierce kiss, and I was breathless when he released me. “If there are others of your kind out there, we will find them,” he promised in his intense way. “You don’t have to be alone. You’ll never be alone with me.”

“You’re more than enough to fill that void in my magical soul,” I told him, meaning every word.

We reached the arch, ancestral magic wrapping around us. “There’s true power in your family line,” Logan said huskily. “How many others do you think were reapers?”

“I have no idea.” I was sad not to have this knowledge. “Gran would have known. It’s so unfair that she was lost to us before I was born.”

Logan tugged gently on my arm. “Come on, Precious.”

I drew him to a halt. “You’re not worried about the wards blasting you to pieces?”

His chuckle contained exactly zero worries. “You know our bond will stand up to the protection spells of your family.”

“At least we’re in a good place for your burial if it doesn’t work,” I muttered, and his grin kicked up a notch. Cocky bastard.

Familiar energy caressed my skin like a warm hug as I stepped through, and Logan showed no sign of discomfort as he followed me past the warding and into our burial grounds. The magic here was strong, with many goddess blessings bestowed on our magical line over the years.

“Your maternal family line is really powerful,” Logan noted without any real surprise.

“I’m sure your dad’s is strong,” I said as we walked through the front lot. “I hear there are many spellcasters in your family line.”

“Almost all of them,” he said with a shrug. “Most who didn’t deserve the power they were gifted.”

Logan’s family line, if one looked at pure power, was the crème de la crème of the magical world. Sure, there were a few crooked branches in the tree, but for the most part it was still hard to comprehend that we were fated mates. If that magical spell hadn’t worked at an age when it should have been impossible, I’d never have believed it.

When we were past the first headstones, Logan released me. “It’s time for you to flex your magic, baby,” he said. “Can you tap into your elemental side?”

A snort escaped me. “Are you back to kicking my ass in training? If you pull out a set of weights, I’ll beat you over the head with them.”

Logan laughed so hard his head dropped back, the strong lines of his throat drawing my attention. It was a captivating sight, but I managed to keep myself under control and not jump his sexy ass.

“You show more fear of weights than you do of my deranged father,” he finally said. Fucking truth. “Don’t stress yourself, love. I’ll do the heavy lifting when the time comes, but you still need to flex your magical muscle. You’ve spent the year since your magic bloomed locked down in one way or another. It’s time to let the energy free.”

The very thought sent a flutter of lightness through the tendrils of exhaustion from the curse.

I’d sat through enough classes to know how to draw the elements to me. I built it in layers as I’d practiced countless times, swirling the wind around us until it felt strong enough to lift us. Pulling more power, I sent us zooming over the rows of graves, tombs, and crypts, slowing only when I recognized the crypt where Gran was buried.

I’d had no practice with gentle stops, and if Logan hadn’t used his own control over air to help, we’d have gone splat against the side of the crypt. “Whoops,” I huffed with a spurt of laughter. “Overshot.”

Logan looked thrilled by my effort. “You’re perfect. You fucking nailed that.”

Wanting to preen like a damn peacock who’d been told they had a pretty tail, I forced myself to focus on our task. “Gran rests here,” I said, pointing to the small entrance, which was a roughly hewn stone doorway surrounded by a weathered exterior.

“How many others does it hold?” Logan asked as we approached the door.

“Gran’s crypt contains three witches, from what I remember. Her maternal line . . .”

It was our choice where we resided in death, with our maternal or paternal line. For some, it was an easy choice, especially when they were tied closer to one parent over the other. True bonded mates resided together, with one side of their families, or started their own site completely.

I’d never given it much thought, but now that I had Logan, it was a discussion we needed to have. Our wishes would be cast into a magical will that would release upon death.