2. Cass
Cass
Thirty minutes on campus and there was already a drink in my hand. I fucking loved this place.
Music thumped around me, filling the frat house with pop dance hits from the early two thousands.
It wasn’t exactly modern, but it was a hell of a lot better than what we usually had access to at Widdershins.
One of the previous graduates had left a case behind full of enchanted CDs.
We had Britney Spears, Backstreet Boys, Cher, and nearly every NOW album from one to fifteen.
And all of them, through some strange magic nobody else could figure out, would play loudly through the house if you said the right incantation.
And thankfully, the incantation was written on the inside of the case.
Now if only someone could figure out how to enchant a smartphone or a radio, that would be even better. But it wasn’t gonna be me. I was too busy partying to worry about that shit.
I tipped my drink back, guzzling down the green liquid. It burned like fire going down, but I loved it. The sensation always made my nipples hard. No idea why, it just did.
“Damn, slow down, Cass,” one of the guys called from across the room. “It’s not a race.”
I flipped him off with a smile. “If you’d spent the last three weeks cooped up with my parents, you’d be drinking to forget too.”
The guy laughed and shook his head, turning back to whatever conversation he’d been having with someone else.
I didn’t blame him for the concern, though.
My tolerance had always been shit, and I was already feeling the pleasant warmth of alcohol spreading through my chest. The magic in my blood made me metabolize a little better than regular humans.
But that just meant I could either get drunk stupidly fast or take forever depending on what I was drinking.
Tonight, it seemed like the green stuff was winning.
I made my way through the crowded living room, dodging bodies and spilled cups with the practiced ease of someone who’d been to enough of these parties to know the layout by heart.
The frat house was packed. Apparently word had gotten out about the back-to-school bash, and half the campus had shown up.
Which was fine by me. More people meant more anonymity, and more anonymity meant I could actually relax for once without worrying about what anyone thought of me.
I wasn’t under my parent’s scrutiny now.
When I was at Widdershins, life was on my terms.
Someone had opened all the windows despite the January cold, probably because the body heat in here was starting to rival a sauna. I could feel the chill on my skin as I passed by one, and it was almost refreshing compared to the sticky warmth of the crowded room.
“Yo, Cass!” One of my classmates, Tex, grabbed my arm as I passed. He was already three sheets to the wind, his words coming out slightly slurred with his thick southern accent still intact. “Dude, I’m so sick of classes already…”
I grinned. “Classes don’t start until tomorrow.”
“Exactly!” He threw his free arm up dramatically. “But I’m already fuckin’ bummin’ about it, man… I don’t wanna go.”
“Let’s not go then,” I said, the words tumbling out before I’d really thought them through. The alcohol was definitely doing its job. “I could summon a storm. Nobody goes to class if there’s a blizzard.”
Tex’s eyes lit up like I’d just suggested the best idea in the history of ideas. “Dude. Dude. That would be fuckin’ sick.”
“Fuck yeah, it would,” I said, already grinning. “And it would probably get me in a ton of trouble with the Academy if someone found out.”
“Nobody’s gonna find out. You’re a weather wiz!” Marcus was grinning now, that wild look that meant trouble. He turned to the crowd around us. “Yo! Yo, everyone! Cass says he can make it snow so much we don’t have to go to class tomorrow!”
Several heads turned in our direction. I felt my cheeks flush, whether from embarrassment or the alcohol, I couldn’t tell.
“No, I didn’t say I—” I started, but it was too late. The seed had been planted.
“Do it,” someone called out.
“Yeah, come on, Cass!”
“Prove it, weather boy!”
Weather boy. Right. Because apparently my reputation preceded me.
I opened my mouth to protest, to explain that summoning a full storm wasn’t something you could just do on a whim.
It took time, planning, and materials. But then I looked at their faces.
At the challenge in their eyes. At the way they were all looking at me like I was either the coolest person in the room or full of shit.
The alcohol made the decision for me.
“Fine,” I heard myself say. “But I have to do it outside. I don’t want to fill the living room with snow.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, and I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that always came with doing something stupid. I set my drink down on the nearest surface, probably someone’s lap. I honestly didn’t care. And pushed my way toward the back door.
The cold hit me like a slap in the face the moment I stepped outside, and it was glorious.
My skin prickled with goosebumps, but more importantly, I could feel it.
The weather. The electricity in the air that most people couldn’t sense but that sang to me like a second language.
Winter was already here, already pressing down on the world with its icy fist. All I had to do was give it a little push.
Behind me, the guys were filing out onto the patio and spilling into the yard, their breath clouding in the frigid air. Someone had grabbed my drink and handed it back to me, which I appreciated. I drained it in one go, letting the burn fuel the magic already thrumming through my veins.
“This is gonna be so sick,” Tex breathed beside me, his eyes wide with anticipation.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I tipped my head back and felt for the storm system that was already hovering about fifty miles northwest. It was a weak thing, barely more than a flurry, but it was there. And it was mine to command.
The magic came easily when I was drunk. That was probably not a good sign, but I’d worry about that later. Right now, I just wanted to feel the power of it, wanted to watch these assholes’ jaws drop when the sky opened up and dumped snow on the entire campus.
I raised my hands, palms up, and whispered the incantation that my mother had taught me years ago. The words were in an old language, one that predated even the Academy itself. They felt heavy on my tongue, weighted with intent and power.
The temperature dropped another five degrees in seconds.
“Holy shit,” someone muttered.
I could feel the storm responding to my call, could sense it turning, accelerating, moving toward us like a hungry animal.
The clouds overhead were already thickening, turning from gray to near-black in the span of a breath.
The wind picked up, and I could taste snow in the air, cold and clean and absolutely perfect.
This was what I lived for. This moment right here. The rush of power, the knowledge that I could bend the world to my will, that I was something more than just a cocky asshole with a drinking problem.
The first snowflake fell onto my cheek, and I grinned. People around me began to cheer, and I felt warmth flood my chest. A few snowflakes was an easy thing. Hell, even a snowstorm wasn’t that difficult to conjure in January. But I wanted them to be impressed.
“You guys ever seen thundersnow before?” I called back.
Their eyes widened with wonder, and they shook their heads.
“Well, watch this,” I grinned. “You’re about to get the show of your fucking life.”
I pushed the magic harder, feeling it surge through me like electricity.
The storm wasn’t just responding anymore.
It was singing. I could feel every cloud, every current of air, every molecule of moisture in the sky bending to my will.
The power was intoxicating, better than the green drinks I’d chugged, better than anything.
The wind howled louder, and the snow came down more heavily.
Real flakes now, thick and fat, swirling in patterns that I was directing without even thinking about it.
Around me, people were laughing and shouting, their voices barely audible over the roar of the wind.
Someone was already calling out that classes were cancelled tomorrow, and I felt a spike of satisfaction.
Their confidence in me was intoxicating.
But I wasn’t done yet. Not even close.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I grinned wider. Getting thunder in a winter storm was tricky. It required finesse, and it required knowing exactly how much energy to pour into the system without destabilizing it. But I’d done it before. I could do it again.
I raised my hands higher, my fingers splayed wide, and I pulled at the storm with everything I had.
The magic in my blood sang in response, eager and wild and absolutely fucking reckless.
I could feel the power building in the clouds above us, electricity gathering, waiting for release.
It was like being on the edge of an orgasm.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Come on, come on, come on—”
The first crack of thunder split the sky like a whip.
People screamed. It was the good kind of scream, the kind that meant they were having the time of their lives.
I was laughing, drunk on magic and enchanted alcohol and the sheer intoxication of being able to bend the world to my will.
More thunder. Bigger thunder. I wanted lightning.
I wanted to show them something they’d never forget.
The problem with wanting things when you’re drunk and full of power is that you tend to forget about consequences.
I felt the lightning before I saw it, a sudden surge of raw energy that made every hair on my body stand on end. But something was wrong. The energy wasn’t dispersing like it should. It was gathering, concentrating, building into something massive and uncontrollable and—
Oh, fuck.
The bolt came down like the wrath of the gods, a jagged white-hot spear that split the darkness and—
It didn’t hit the yard. It didn’t hit the frat house.
It hit the old Victorian greenhouse on the far side of campus, the one where all the herbalism classes were held. The one with a giant metal spire sticking out of the center of the roof like a lightning rod.
The entire building’s roof exploded in a shower of glass shards that caught the light and scattered like diamonds through the sky.
It was terrifying and beautiful all at once.
Truly a sight to remember. However, inside the greenhouse, the plant life erupted in flames, orange and red and impossibly bright against the darkness and the snow.
For a moment, everything went silent. The wind died. The snow stopped falling. Even the thunder seemed to hold its breath.
Then absolute fucking chaos.
People were screaming for real now, not in excitement but in genuine terror. Someone was yelling about calling campus security. I stood frozen, my hands still raised, staring at the burning greenhouse with a sinking feeling in my stomach that no amount of alcohol could dull.
“Shit,” I heard myself say, my voice small and stupid. “Shit, shit, shit.”
The magical sirens started wailing across campus within minutes.
Security patrols began teleporting in all around campus, materializing out of nowhere with their battle wands drawn.
They were on high alert, which I’d forgotten about in my drunken state.
Only a couple of months ago the academy had been attacked by the Purity Front.
I should’ve thought about that before I called down a lightning bolt from fucking space.
Most of campus security headed for the greenhouse to contain the fire. However, several were turning in my direction, their tracking spells already in effect. The magically enhanced storm had my signature on it. Their spells would lead them right to me.
It didn’t help that every single person standing around me was looking at me like they’d just watched me burn the entire place down.
Which, technically, I had.
I let my hands fall to my sides.
“Fuck.”