Chapter 3 #3
“We met at the Sparklight Academy in Maine, where it’s too cold most of the year to do anything but study.
Or find your own mischief. We’re the same year, so we were stuck in a lot of classes together.
Friendship was sort of forced on us,” he jokes with an impish smile.
“Once we began our apprenticeships there, our studies diverged but we still socialized. Not as much as we should have, but that’s how it often goes. ”
“I’m convinced the thing he liked most about me was that I had so many pretty friends he could impress with party tricks,” I quip.
“Absolutely. It’s what made those early years at academy tolerable,” he declares.
“Do all witches go? Doesn’t your coven help you train your magick?” Aurelia asks.
“Covens do work with young members to teach them how to use their magick, and eventually most do attend one of our academies,” I clarify.
“Not all apprenticeships take place there. I have an apprentice in my shop currently and she is about to surpass me in almost every skill we use there. But intensive specializations require guidance from experts. My parents encouraged me to complete my apprenticeship at the academy. It was the closest place I could study transmutation, which is turning one substance into another. Plus, I already knew most of the faculty.”
“I thought my life was over when mine forced me to leave New York City for Maine. I was such a little terror because my magickal ability manifested at a fairly young age. They were in over their heads with me. But they were right. I needed to go. To be humbled a little. It opened a lot of doors and put me on this path,” he recalls.
“You? Humbled? Mother Earth bless your heart,” I chide him with a grin. “But I wholeheartedly agree it was the right place for us.”
“Don’t bless your heart me! I remember what that means,” he grumbles, faking a scowl.
“Ooh, she’s pulling out the big guns,” Aurelia goads.
“You’d never believe she was the shyest of our cohort when she first arrived,” he teases.
“I was trying so hard to impress her to get her to like me, but I quickly realized that there was no need for pretense with her. She’s one of the most genuine witches I know.
Maybe I can appreciate that more than most, given my…
talents. The rest of her friends, on the other hand, they were a tough crowd. ”
“I didn’t really know how to make friends when I first got there.
Everyone already knew who I was in this town, being a Mayweather and all.
Not that I wanted that extra attention and automatic acceptance.
It put me at a disadvantage when I left since I never quite needed that skillset here,” I reveal with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“I think that put you at ease with me almost instantly. I was also fumbling at making friends, so I wasn’t being too picky at the time.
” I punctuate my affectionate burn with a wink.
“Fumbling!” he repeats incredulously. “Neither of us were fumbling, exactly. That’s rewriting history. You made a close circle of friends right off the bat. And then sometimes you’d deign to hang out with me.”
“You dated enough of them that you were a pretty regular fixture, if my memory still serves,” I deadpan.
“Were you two ever an item?” Aurelia cuts in.
“No, I saw right through his best pickup lines,” I answer with a sly grin.
“I barely used any on you! And certainly not my best ones,” he protests, bringing his hand to his chest in mock disbelief. Turning his attention back to Aurelia, he adds, “No, we never did. Friendship with Ada is something special. I didn’t want to spoil it.”
As we laugh over stories from our academy days, a large automobile pulls into the circular driveway in my front lawn. I hold my breath as the back doors open. I nearly cry in relief when a faun and an orc emerge. It must be Cyrinda and Tallie.
“Who said this party could start without me?” Cyrinda demands playfully, standing with her hands on her hips.
“We’re just warming up! What took you so long?” Aurelia cheeks back as Cyrinda sashays up to the porch. Tufts of fur and her polished cloven hooves stick out from the bottom of her designer jeans. Her steps rhythmically clop on the sidewalk.
Tallie grunts, hauling luggage out of the trunk. “As soon as you think there’s a party, you leave me hanging, Cyrinda? Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Nope. It gives you the perfect opportunity to show off those biceps. You’re welcome,” Cyrinda remarks tartly from over her shoulder. Tallie exaggeratedly flexes her biceps exposed by her sleeveless shirt as she takes out the last piece of luggage.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet both of you. Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or lemonade? I have a pot of coffee on…”
“Sure, if that’s all you’ve got, but I do always carry my own flask with me.
The sun isn’t so high in the sky anymore.
How about something a little stronger?” she suggests with a smirk as she pats her hand over something solid in her jacket pocket.
“Considering the next few weeks, we should celebrate our last night of freedom.”
She’s not wrong. Tomorrow, the first day of safety council meetings, will be rough, with testimony and timelines given by witnesses including me and my friend Ben.
He fought to keep his mate Cara out of these meetings.
Clancy and I agreed it’s the right call.
They’d needle every disturbing detail, making her relive those horrible moments in the carriage house.
It’s unnecessary. Between everything Ben and I can tell them, along with the coven members who were there that night, we have it more than covered.
Cara and Ben are convalescing at home, though healing quickly with magickal aid.
Ben told us he wants everyone to see his not-yet-faded scars, along with photos of Cara’s injuries when they were new.
“I do have a few options.” I chuckle at how Cyrinda’s entrance has, in fact, livened up the vibe to something more celebratory. “Why don’t I show you to your rooms and then we’ll break into the good stuff?”
“Be a dear and make sure my bedroom is next to tall, dark, and handsome’s over there,” Cyrinda requests as she waggles her eyebrows at Niven.