Page 26 of Roaring Spell

“Besides that.”

I have to think about it. What do I do when I’m stressed, besides manifest weather? “I organize. Categorize. Make lists.” I gesture at the chaos of my studio. “Though you couldn’t tell from looking at this place.”

“I can tell.” He returns to measuring. “Your crystal inventory may be chaotic, but your client files are immaculate. Your treatment rooms are perfectly organized. Your supply closet has labels.”

“You’ve looked at my supply closet?”

“I notice things.”

He notices things. He notices my supply closet organization. Why is that attractive?

“Hand me that level?”

I hand him the level. Our fingers brush. A spark jumps between us—actual electricity, my magic responding to the contact with embarrassing enthusiasm.

He doesn’t flinch. Just accepts the tool and returns to measuring.

“You’re not going to comment on that?”

“Comment on what?”

“The—” I gesture at my still-sparking fingertips. “The literal electricity.”

“Happens all the time with elemental witches.” His voice is perfectly calm. “Especially ones whose magic is tied to their emotions.”

It takes him two hours to build new shelving. Better than the original—sturdier, with reinforced brackets that will survive my next episode.

Leire breezes in, radiating the satisfied energy of someone who’s recently been thoroughly claimed by a tiger shifter. Behind her, elegant and intimidating in equal measure, is Anouk Darkwater.

“That was some redecorating you did yesterday.” Leire deposits herself on my couch like she lives here. “Very dramatic. Very ‘romantic turmoil.’”

“There’s no romantic turmoil.”

“Your indoor thunderstorm says otherwise.” She waves a hand at the still-visible scorch marks on my ceiling. “The mist was practically doing a happy dance last night. Very ‘lovers on the precipice of discovery.’”

“We’re not lovers. We’re not even—” I sputter, face heating. “He’s my monitor.”

“Uh-huh.” Leire’s grin is insufferable. “And Aslan was my ‘professional protection escort’ until he wasn’t.”

Anouk ignores our exchange, moving to examine one of the scorch marks. “Lightning manifestation. Significant power output. And you say this started near the back door?”

“Yes. I was checking the seal⁠—”

“Which faces the Registry.” Anouk’s gaze sharpens. “Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

Leire and Anouk exchange a look. That look—the one that says they know things I don’t.

“We spoke with Councilor Valesh. She has some interesting ideas,” Leire says.

“What kind of ideas?”

“The Warding Line has been degrading in specific areas,” Anouk explains. “Faster than normal familiar losses can account for. The locations you’re describing—the square, near the Registry, here—they overlap with the weakest sections.”

“You think my episodes are connected to the Warding Line?”

“I think your magic is sensitive enough to detect things others can’t.” Anouk’s voice is careful. Measured. “Your episodes may not be instability. They may be response.”