Page 5 of Weave the Dark, Weave the Light
Ari shook away those thoughts. Sex and control were ideas they could wrap their mind around. Lust was an old friend. Everything else sounded perilously close to something they had no framework for, no way to navigate.
Didn’t help that they’d tripped over Theo’s black sneakers and Bess’s purple heels last night, and now dreaded leaving their room. Ari liked Bess a lot—she’d encouraged needed grounding in their circle. Bess had focused the group and brought order.
They chafed at order, though. Some structure was fine, but on their own terms, not enforced by others. Bess tended to mother Ari, even though they were all about the same age and had been studying magic for similar amounts of time.
Ari darted into the bathroom and showered, then dove back into their room to change, hoping they’d escape before either Bess or Theo woke up. No such luck. Bess lingered in the bedroom doorway, wrapped in a robe, her long braids stark black lines against red silk.
Of course she noticed Jonathan’s scarf in Ari’s hand, shimmering like starlight even as morning sun streamed through the hallway window.
“Where’d you get that, baby doll?” Her gaze flicked from the scarf and pinned Ari with alook.
“Not your baby doll,” Ari drawled before heading to the living room. “And a guy gave it to me last night.”
“That’s no ordinary scarf, love.” Bess followed.
“No shit.” Ari drew the scarf around their neck and pulled on their coat. They let thelovego. It was better thandollany day.
Bess planted a hand on her hip. “So, what did you give thisguyin return for that, hmm?” The way her tone changed, Ari knew she was asking:who did you fuck for that scarf?
Ari laughed. Yeah, they wanted Jonathan, wanted to push him down and have their every way with him. But sex for a scarf, even one wrapped in magic? Please.
Not on the first night, anyway.
“I gave him a piece of citrine.” They paused. “And the promise of a spell.” They’d started a dance with Jonathan that Ari didn’t understand, but felt the rhythm nonetheless.
Bess stepped closer. “Oh, Ari.” There was worry in her voice. Honest, actual worry. “Whatkindof spell?”
“Look, I gotta get to work. I don’t have time to play twenty questions.” Maybe they were as reckless as Jonathan said.
“What, spell,what?” Theo echoed sleepily as he stepped into the living room. His eyes locked onto Ari, and he straightened, all weariness vanishing. “Whoa, Ari.” Theo’s brown eyes were wide and fearful. “That’s not fire in you. What thefuck?”
That was a drawback to living with Theo—he was an earth witch who could work water as well, but unlike Ari, Theo saw more than just his own elements—he saw themall, including Jonathan’s, it seemed.Definitelytime to leave. “It’s nothing. It’sfine. I’m fine. I’m gonna be late.” Ari grabbed their backpack and ran out of the apartment.
They took the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. They couldn’t handle the look in Theo’s eyes, or the one in Bess’s.
They both cared about Ari—that was mutual—but Ari didn’t know if thefamilything worked. They’d never be able to convince their circle that Jonathan wasn’t dangerous, especially since Jonathan wasterrifying. Might as well be a demon, but hewasn’t. He was a deep part of existence, an ancient spark of energy.
Weave me a spell.
Why would a star need a witch’s spell? And how the hell was Ari going to create one when they didn’t know what Jonathan needed?
Despite the mention of love spells, they were sure romance wasn’t what Jonathan wanted. And besides, Ari didn’t love easily. Sex was fun and uncomplicated. Friendships were foundational. Romantic love was…messy. Ari had enough chaos in their life. Sex, though…that might be a singular focus they needed in order to weave magic. Granted, with their kinks, that particular avenue involved tying Jonathan up, and they suspected the answer to the price they’d set would be no.
Ari slung their bag onto their back. The walk and wait at the bus stop wasn’t long, and no one seemed to notice anything more odd about Ari than normal. They were wearing black tights and a long navy skirt, a crisp white button-down, and a brilliant red bow tie that peeked from their coat. Combat boots rounded out the outfit. There might be snow later, and no way were they risking good shoes to crap weather. Besides, they liked the boots—all that black leather.
Squirrel Hill was pretty laid-back, but they’d probably get some looks later in the commute, especially since they’d skipped shaving. Whatever. They knew who they were.
When the bus came, Ari snagged a window seat.
Businesses, houses, and streets blurred past. Ari pulled Jonathan’s scarf tighter around their neck, catching the faint smell of him—peppermint and smoke.Impossible. Still, Ari buried their nose in the fabric.
They didn’t pay attention to the other passengers until someone sat next to them and a rush of cold fire wrapped around their limbs. Ari whipped their gaze from the window and found Jonathan’s razor smile. “Hello, Ari.”
“How—” Ari snapped their mouth shut and swallowed. Not the smartest question. They had Jonathan’s scarf and he had Ari’s citrine. “I have work today.”
Without his hat, his hair was silver-gray. His skin was warm, in tone and touch, when he patted Ari’s thigh with an ungloved hand. “I know. But you’ve been in my thoughts and in my head, and I was curious to see you.”
“Curious to see me,” Ari repeated. They drank in the sight of Jonathan and the warmth of his body. “You could’ve gotten my number, you know. Texted. Asked me out for coffee.”
