Chapter Six #3
“She taught me how to manage my power,” Katherine continued.
“She taught me how to control it, instead of letting it control me. And when I settled, Sylvia taught me how to use that magic too. And together we started finding teens like you—unsettled witches who didn’t know what was happening to them, who needed someone to help them. ”
Katherine thought of all the witches who she and Sylvia had managed to help.
Nowhere near enough. Unsettled witches were extremely rare—they estimated less than a dozen cropped up in the country per year.
Noctis’ official guidance on the topic was to stay the hell away from them, which meant that many ended up homeless, institutionalized, in jail, or dead.
Aestas was the sole coven brave enough to ignore Noctis’ directive and the only place providing a home for those vulnerable teens in the States.
As in many things, the US was behind the curve—most other countries had official programs set up to help unsettled witches, or at least provided resources and guidance for covens to do so on their own.
Katherine had had the chance to visit an official training camp for unsettled witches in Brazil a few years earlier and had been overwhelmed with happiness at seeing how well taken care of they all were.
Then she’d punched a wall out of frustration that they couldn’t get it together to manage that here.
Lily looked up at Katherine. “So you’ve done this before?”
Katherine dug her hand tightly into Cheez-It’s fur, stopping herself from saying what she wanted to say—I’m sorry you have to think about this at all.
I’m sorry this happened to you, and that it keeps happening to kids all over the world.
I’m sorry no one has figured out a way to help people like you and me before we reach the point of no return. I’m sorry no one cares enough.
“Eighteen witches over the past twelve years. We’re going to get through this, Lily. You’re in the best place you could be.”
Lily gave Katherine a small smile. Katherine looked at her open, trusting face.
All of these kids were so young. Young like she’d been young.
Young like the future was narrowed down to a month or two away, all of these wide-open hopes and dreams because the whole world was out there, and you had nothing but time to go see it but you wanted to do it all right now.
All of that was gone, and there was no going back. The world had shrunk to just one path—figure out how to control the power before it controlled you. To stray was to die.
Unsettled witches didn’t get to have dreams.
Katherine let out a quiet sigh as she softly closed the door to her room. She and Lily had binged New Girl for hours until the young girl had finally passed out. Katherine had seen the tension in her face even in sleep, her eyes flitting back and forth underneath her eyelids.
The nightmares were starting already. They wouldn’t stop.
Katherine walked to her desk, grabbing her bottle of Prozac and popping one of the pills into her mouth.
She had Sylvia to thank for these too—given her small-town upbringing, she’d been reluctant to even try talk therapy, but Sylvia had encouraged her to seek out the help she needed.
She wouldn’t be able to function without the antianxiety meds.
Hell, she could barely function with them.
Cheez-It started doing circles around her legs, meowing loudly.
Katherine chuckled, sitting down at her desk and crossing her legs.
He immediately jumped into her lap, letting out a low mewl to let her know that this was not the ideal situation—he wanted bed cuddles, but if he was forced to settle, this would do.
“Sorry, bud.” Sleep, Katherine knew, wouldn’t be easy to find that night. She should use this time to meditate. If she wanted any hope of ever being able to help Sylvia maintain Aestas’ wards, she needed to work on her focus.
She slid her laptop over to herself. The screen was open on her email, blinking with one unread message—Noctis’ monthly newsletter. Katherine hovered over the trash button, then let out a loud sigh as she opened it. There was never anything of value inside, but she couldn’t just delete on sight.
The newsletter opened to a crooked smile and bedroom eyes.
Katherine huffed, taking in the full image of Silas Khatri, son of Vikrant and Nina Khatri, the heads of Noctis.
In the picture, he was perched on a desk, leaning his long body casually back.
His thick black hair was artfully ruffled, his eyes looking just off camera as he grinned, popping his dimples.
The photo screamed I’m being totally candid, as long as you ignore the professional lighting setup.
Katherine had been inundated with enough images of Silas Khatri to know that he was spectacularly handsome and probably vapid enough that a two-minute conversation with him would rot a hole in her brain.
Noctis had released a video series a few months earlier featuring Silas touring their Department of Spell Construction and Katherine had made a drinking game out of watching it, taking a sip every time Silas said something that had clearly been workshopped by a room full of PR experts.
She’d gotten drunk enough that she wasn’t able to stop herself from appreciating the way his ass looked in his suit pants as he walked down the halls.
In this week’s plug, Silas was apparently teaching at Noctis’ after-school program, because he had “a passion for educating the next generation of witches.” Another, smaller picture further down the article showed him lecturing a group of kids, wearing a pair of glasses that were absolutely not prescription.
He’d been caught mid-laugh, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, his shoulder muscles popping through his shirt.
Katherine wondered if they photoshopped the ray of sun reflecting perfectly off his high cheekbones.