Chapter 7
Our hotel in New York wasn’t fancy. “Sorry, girls, this is the best we could get,” Mom said, handing us a key card each. She’d
booked two separate rooms to give Sara and me privacy—my siblings couldn’t get away for the three days to be here, but they
were prepared to transport across if the trial went badly. “It’s safe enough, at least. Not that a regular human could ever
get the drop on us.”
“Totally fine, Mrs. Hallistar,” Sara said with a smile. “I’ve never been to the city, and I can’t wait to explore.”
“We can go out now, right, Mom?”
She nodded. “Just keep your phones on you so we can coordinate for dinner. We should get to bed early. Tomorrow will be a
long day.”
The preliminary hearing started today, but it was closed to everyone except Dad and his coven-appointed lawyer. Tomorrow,
though, we would all be there for the main trial. The verdict would be delivered on the third day.
Mom left to unpack in her room. We grabbed our phones and bags, and headed to the street to catch a cab. I’d just waved one
down when my phone buzzed, and I hated the way my stomach tightened in anticipation.
Logan had returned me safely home yesterday, as promised, via another illegal transport portal, and I hadn’t heard from him since. I swiped to find the message wasn’t from him.
Haley: I’m reading a shifter book, and he is scenting her to see if she’s clean. He can smell her periods. I mean . . . What the
fuck am I even reading? Shifters . . . I tell ya. They have issues.
A snort of laughter escaped me as I slid into the back seat of the yellow cab. After Sara directed the driver to Central Park,
I handed her the phone and she lost her shit reading Haley’s message.
She replied before I could stop her.
Paisley: I’m going to need the title. For research purposes.
There was a minute before she responded.
Haley: Hey, Sara. I’d know your dirty mind anywhere.
I snatched my phone as Sara shrugged. “Ask her if she’s going to make it tonight?”
After shooting off another quick text, I threw my phone into my bag and stared out the window, taking in the sights. When
we reached the drop-off near the park, my phone buzzed, and I checked her reply.
Haley: Not tonight. But 100% on for tomorrow.
Sara read over my arm. “I’ve missed her so much. It’ll be great when we’re all back together again.” She paused, and I knew
what she was going to say. “Did Belle reply to your message?”
I’d messaged this morning to see if she’d be at the trial. Her ass of a father was part of the proceedings, which meant there was a chance.
“Nope,” I said, feeling grim about it. “She hasn’t even read it, and in all honesty, I don’t trust her father doesn’t have
her chained up in the basement.”
“I want to laugh,” Sara deadpanned, “but since there’s a chance it’s true, I’m mostly panicking.”
“Maybe she’s with her mom . . .” I suggested to calm my own panic. “She said they don’t get the best phone service near her
mom’s village.”
“We should ask Elder Monroe tomorrow,” Sara said, stepping aside as a large group of kids in matching shirts pushed into the
park, heading in the direction of the zoo.
Like he’d tell us anything.
Keeping Belle away from her friends and support system was at the top of his to-do list. The moment the school year finished,
she’d ghosted us hard.
“No doubt he’ll be more concerned about slapping my dad with the maximum penalty he can get,” I grumbled. “I’m really not
looking forward to tomorrow.”
Sara wrapped her arm around my shoulders and gently squeezed. “I know, hon, but let’s not let it ruin today. I mean, how often
are we in the city like this? Let’s experience playing tourist.”
As she dragged me along the path, I attempted to push my stress and worries aside. The trial was going to happen whether I
worried today or not, so for now I’d enjoy this moment with my bestie.
The day passed in a pleasant haze.
We didn’t talk about Dad or the trial again. We ate hot dogs from food carts, visited the zoo, and, despite the icy weather, explored the park until the sun started to set.
The cab was toasty warm on the way home, and I sank into a relieved heap to thaw out. Sara, doing the same beside me, smiled
broadly. “I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up, but are you ever going to tell me what happened the other night with Logan?
He called you mate. Like, mate?”
Now it was too hot in here, and I unwound my scarf to free up my neck. “You haven’t mentioned what happened with you and Alaric
either.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her about Logan, it was just hard to describe the night. He’d taken me to his secret
house, made the best pasta I’d ever eaten, and then cuddled me to keep the monsters away. There’d been no sex, or anything
remotely sexual, and yet the night had felt intimate in a way that went way beyond casual fuck buddies.
Oh, and he’d also told me we were bonded and called me his mate.
Right before he took me home and proceeded to ignore the two messages I’d sent checking in on him. Which were the last messages
I would be sending.
Logan Kingston was complicated and frustrating, and I had no idea what was happening.
At the mention of Alaric, Sara’s face lit up. “Oh, Pais! Oh my fucking goddess. He absolutely destroyed me. I’ve never had
sex like that. Never. I couldn’t remember my own name, even as I screamed his for half the night.”
I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. “Never a dull moment with you. Are you going to see him again?”
Her eyes were wide and shiny as she shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea, but I hope so. He’s already messaged today to check in and see if I was still in Spokane. It hurt to tell him that I was away and wouldn’t be back for a few days.”
“If he’s interested, a few days’ wait won’t deter him.”
“I know,” she said softly. “And while I’m not sure I’m ready for more than great sex, it’s nice to feel wanted at least.”
It was nice, even if it was also confusing and terrifying.
When we reached the hotel, Sara and I rushed to shower and change for dinner. We were going to check out a small Chinese restaurant
around the corner. Mom and Dad knocked on the door when it was time to go, and the four of us walked the two blocks to the
restaurant. “How did today go, Dad?” I asked him.
For most of my life Tom Hallistar had been a larger-than-life warlock, filled with power and the literal fire of his element.
But tonight he looked tired. “As well as could be expected,” he said, tucking Mom into his side. “They basically went over
the schedule for tomorrow, and the order of evidence and witnesses. The trial will be a long day.”
“What’s the worst punishment that we’re looking at? Is it beyond you just losing your job now?”
He exchanged a glance with Mom before he answered; they tended to try to hide the darker aspects of life from their kids.
“I think the worst will be losing my job, but there’s a chance they could push for more. Students were injured, though thankfully
none of them died.”
“Shouldn’t you already know the charges?” Sara asked, expression serious as she dodged a nasty-looking puddle of melting ice.
“They can’t just drop new shit on you during the trial, right?”
“They can,” Mom said, and I hated how concerned she looked. “If the elders decide there’s enough evidence to support further charges, they’ll just bring them up. That’s why I said to pack for a week. In case we’re here longer than the original estimate.”
We’d reached the restaurant now, red neon lights flashing its name, but my stomach was churning so hard I doubted I’d be able
to eat anything. This was all so unfair, and I had no idea why Elder Monroe would want to punish Dad. Even if he thought I
was a demon-witch, and I could only assume he did based on previous comments, my affinity had nothing to do with my parents.
Or was his aim to remove my support system from Weatherstone?
When I returned for my sophomore year, Alice and Jenna would be gone.
If Dad was as well . . .
I’d be more vulnerable than ever.
Later that night, I lay in bed staring at the popcorn ceiling. I sent out a prayer to Selene that tomorrow wouldn’t end up
a complete knife through the chest for my family.
Sara had fallen asleep half an hour ago, but I couldn’t get my mind to settle. Restless energy and anxiety tore me to pieces,
and I wished for a brief second that I was with Logan in his gorgeous home. Grabbing my phone, I checked my messages, startled
to find there was one unread.
Stalkcaster: Sorry for the late reply, I was tied up on some business. Did you make it to the city okay?
Fire washed through me as my magic surged against the suppression potion, and I forced myself not to shoot back an immediate
reply.
I even debated ignoring him, which lasted all of ten seconds.
Paisley: Yep, made it safe and sound. Dad’s main trial day is tomorrow. I’ll be at the council chambers.
He replied almost instantly:
Stalkcaster: It’s going to be ok. I will make sure your dad is safe, so don’t stress. I can feel you freaking out from here.
Ignoring his statement about making it okay, because there was no possible way he could help, I replied just as quickly.
Paisley: I bet you can, Stalker. Where is “here” anyway?
Another quick reply.
Stalkcaster: Our bed.
My heart stuttered in a weird arrhythmia.
Paisley: You have got to stop saying things like that. You’re confusing me. Speaking of, you didn’t answer my questions the other
night, and you promised you would.
Stalkcaster: You needed a break. You needed a night to not deal with the stress of life. The questions and answers aren’t going anywhere.
Now go to sleep.
I clutched the phone tighter and let a moment of vulnerability seep out.
Paisley: I find it hard to sleep these days.
He read the message, and for the first time there wasn’t an instant reply. Figuring he was done with the chat, I was about to drop my phone on the green laminate side table, when it buzzed once and then again.
He was calling.
Reflexively, I slid my finger across to answer and whispered, “Hello.”
“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” he said, the rumble of his voice deeper than usual. “Or I can get you and bring
you back here.”
Oh Hel.
“I’m with Sara,” I whispered in reply. “I can’t leave.”
I wanted to, though. It was scary how much I wanted to.
Even though Logan’s actions gave me whiplash, this caring side he revealed was impossible to resist.
“Close your eyes, Precious.”
My eyes were closed before I could consider how quickly I obeyed his command.
“Good girl,” he murmured, as if he could fucking see me.
Could he see me? Wouldn’t put it past him.
“Let me tell you about our last day together,” he continued, and despite my sleepiness, I perked up, wanting to hear this
story. “We went to the park twice a week. Our moms would take us to hang out so they could gossip. The twins ran off to play
together, as they always did. Those two never needed anyone. And Jensen and Trevor were content to wrestle in the mud or throw
punches at all the assholes in the park. Which left you and me. You followed me everywhere, and I pretended I hated it, but
deep down . . . I thought you were adorable.”
At some point, my breathing grew so shallow I felt lightheaded.
Was I finally going to find out what happened that day in my memories?
“You ran away from me,” I whispered.
Logan’s chuckle vibrated through the phone and deep into my body. “I always did, and you always caught me. Or . . . I let
you catch me. But that day, you tripped and fell. You hurt yourself. There were shallow cuts on your hands, and I remember
being so angry with myself. I scooped you up in my arms, trying not to freak at your tiny tear-streaked face. Our moms didn’t
see us, too caught up in Witch Weekly or whatever they were chatting about, so I took you over to a set of chairs near the back of the park.”
I strained my brain, but all I had was that one memory: the falling.
“I cleaned your hands with water from the tap and my shirt. And you looked up at me with the bluest fucking eyes I’d ever
seen, and said, ‘I’m going to marry you one day, Logie.’”
He paused and didn’t speak for so long I thought he’d already gone.
“What happened then?” I pushed gently.
“You pulled a spell from your pocket.” He sounded less intense and more amused now. “You’d stolen it from an old book of your
gran’s. That’s why you’d been chasing me—to give me a gift.”
A book of Gran’s . . . ? Which gran?
“We read that spell together, and then I cut my palm to press against the blood already on yours. We were just stupid kids
messing around, but fuck . . . it worked, Paisley. Magic bound us, and I felt the bond to you. It was subtle until we bloomed,
but there was no denying that day was when you became more than my best friend.”
My head spun, and I lifted my hand as if I could see the blood that had bound us.
“More than best friends, as in . . .”
“Mate,” Logan finished for me. “Mate-to-be anyway. Didn’t you think it was weird that when you bloomed, you started dreaming about me?
The moment your power emerged, our bond was triggered.
The dreams pushed us together until the first time we had sex, needing to seal the spell we set in motion almost twenty years ago. ”
“But . . . I mean . . . you can’t do magic at four and six.” It was impossible, even as I felt the connection simmering between
us. It’d been there from the first moment I saw him at Weatherstone, even as we fought against it.
His pause was brief. “We did though. We did, Paisley.”
My chest grew tighter, the pain sharp and direct. “How could you know this about us and then reject the bond so many times
at school?” My voice rose until I was in danger of waking Sara.
He breathed deeply, and that low sound weirdly settled into my energy. “I had to keep you safe, Precious. I’ve been trying
to keep you safe for years, which meant staying away until I was strong enough to protect you.”
“Are you strong enough now?” I whispered, broken but not ready to give up yet. “I don’t think I can do this hot and cold any
longer, Logan.”
His reply was soothing. “I know, Precious. We won’t have to hide much longer. I promise. Now get some sleep so you’re not
tired tomorrow for the trial.”
I closed my eyes once more, and with Logan whispering soothing words, I found myself drifting off, phone still clutched in
my hand.