“There are no books in our public library which would detail this sort of magic,” Dad said seriously. “We think a studentis being fed the magicand/orthe means to do this.”
“Like from a parent?”
Dad nodded at me, and I let that marinate. That possibility was why Logan remained on my list of suspects—Rafael Kingston.
Mom was quiet through the conversation, and I didn’t like that blank look on her face. She’d checked out, so I decided tocheck her back in. “Mom, are you okay?”
Her expression softened, and life returned to her eyes. “It’s just... this feels very much like that day in the forestwherewewere attacked.” She didn’t mention Logan’s mom, but she was part of thewein that sentence. “I mean, it was a shadow of energy but—” She cleared her throat, and Dad rubbed his hand across her shouldersin a soothing manner. “She was torn apart in the same way. With Logan in the school now, it just feels close to home.”
Dad huffed. “I haven’t dismissed the Kingstons’ involvement. But I’ve been watching Logan, and he’s not shown any signs ofabusing his powers. Not one time. Even if he was pretending to be the perfect student, it’s been months. Hard to hold a facadefor that length of time.”
It would be hard, but not impossible, especially if you were as capable and powerful as Logan. The Kingstons had eighteen years to plan out their revenge, and I wasn’t buying into the few months of Logan’s hero act. He remained on my list and would until there was another truly viable suspect. The girls and I had made a list of students in the school, and evaluated whether any of them had the power to do this. Outside of maybe one or two, there were none, but we didn’t know their parents.
In that case, it could be anyone.
When we eventually went to bed, I lay there for a long time unable to sleep. The spellcaster was on my mind, icy green eyeshaunting my waking hours along with my dreams now. Part of me hated him, my chest burning with a rage hotter than Trevor’smagma, but there was another part, small though it might be, which hated myself more.
Because I couldn’t fully hate Logan.
Why the Hel did he have to be powerful, gorgeous, arrogant, and smart? Oh, and as an added bonus, the bastard was also tall.It was too much. The goddess wasn’t supposed to give with both hands. Though, he could possibly be evil, which was a massivecheckmark in the turnoff column.
Eventually I fell asleep, clutching a large piece of uncut jade to ward off bad dreams. With a touch of luck, it would wardoff all dreams so I didn’t get caught up in sexy times with my hand while at home. Thinking about Logan before bed was absolutelya mistake, but the goddess had mercy on me that night, or the crystal worked, because the next morning I woke late and withouta single dream.
Saturday was spent in a similar fashion to Friday night, with more food, more movies, and a delightful afternoon nap. Just before dinner, I found myself in the attic with Dad as he cleaned out a bunch of boxes Mom wanted him to drop atthe dump. “She wants to put in a new crafting room,” he explained. “She’s moving on to knitting and yarning.”
Mom dabbled in crafting, and our house was filled with the different projects she had started and succeeded at over the years.
“What’s even in these boxes?” I asked, coughing as I shifted one and a cloud of dust emerged.
“I have no idea. Have a look through and see if there’s anything of yours, otherwise it all has to go.”
Most of the boxes I opened were junk. Broken kitchen appliances, old clothes from when we were kids, and a lot of our oldartwork. I kept a few pieces that I found hilarious, like the one where I’d drawn Mom with huge boobs and Dad with a baldhead. I was three at the time, but memories lasted forever.
Dad started to haul the boxes down the stairs as I went through them, and by the time the last one was waiting for me to check,he called up that he was having a break, and he didn’t care what was left up there.
“You used your magic half the time, old man,” I called back.
His chuckle wafted up to me. “Don’t tell your mom that. She’s about to rub my shoulders.”
Thank fuck he saidshoulders. Though knowing them, it was still too much information. I knew shoulder rubs were only the beginning. Or Iwouldknow, if I wasn’t currently in the worst dry patch of my life.
“Don’t hurry back,” I shouted down, sitting on my butt beside the last box, ripping off the dusty, yellowing tape.
This box looked older than the others we’d cleared, and as I opened it a sweet floral scent arose. There was no mustinesswith it, which surprised me. On top sat a black-and-white photo of an unsmiling witch. For a beat I thought it was Mom, untilI read the caption to find it washer mom. Gran. I’d nevermet her, but she looked so much like Mom that it weirdly hurt to look at her photo. The thought of my mom dying was too much to bear.
Placing the photo to the side, I found a bunch of letters below, all addressed to Beth Hallistar. I paused at the sight ofMom’s name, realizing that Gran had written letters to her, but they were all unopened, the yellowing envelopes sealed upcompletely. Since it wasn’t my place to snoop through her memories, I placed them to the side as well, and looked at whatelse the box contained. It was mostly photos and patterned teacups, but in the bottom I found two silver necklaces with crystalpendants attached that had my greedy heart leaping as I tried to figure out if I could claim them.
Leaving the crystals on my knee, I shifted through more photos, looking closer this time. I was surprised to find many ofthem were of crystals and gems—not that I should have been since her obsession was as well-known as mine. There were shortsentences on the back of pics, and some of the specific pieces I recognized, as they were in my collection. My largest pieceof quartz, which was shaped almost like a rose, had the words:Use quartz to draw in moon energy and increase power.
A few of the other photos showed Gran again, wearing a crystal necklace. In one, she was wearing all three. The two I’d foundin this box and the one Mom had already gifted me.
“Paisley, dinner is ready!” Mom called, and I hurriedly packed everything back into the box except the two necklaces. “Washyour hands, honey,” she added as I strode into the kitchen.
She pulled a dish out of the oven and caught my eye, her smile turning into a chuckle. “On second thought, maybe you shouldhave a quick shower.”
I felt grimy, and no doubt looked even worse. “I foundthese necklaces in a box of Gran’s old stuff,” I said, holding them up. “The stones aren’t familiar, but would it be okay if I wore them?”
Mom barely glanced at them. “Absolutely, baby. You know I don’t have any sentimental value to Mom’s crystals.”
