All in all, she counted eighteen witches including herself. Too many to form a cohesive team. Usually, witches operated in groups of six to thirteen. Any more than that, and control grew rocky as someone tried to manage the entire group. Keeping the numbers smaller—and the witches stronger—would ensure that they operated best as a team.
Her eyes scanned the group, eyebrows knitting together in a frown as she realized someone was missing.
“Where’s Altair?” she asked.
“Who?”
She turned at the voice, beaming as her brain focused on the face attached to it. “Jessie!” she exclaimed as her friend walked through the door to join the group. “What are you doing here?’
The blonde scoffed, giving Christine a somewhat incredulous look. “What’s that supposed to mean? You didn’t think I was talented enough to make this team?’
Christine rolled her eyes. “More like I didn’t think anyone would want to put up with you enough to invite you.”
“Thanks Christi, thanks so much. Right here, you got me,” Jessie laughed, clutching at her heart. “Ouch.”
“It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah, same.” The two stood side by side for a moment.
“You running this shiz yet?” Jessie wanted to know.
“Not yet,” Christine said, looking over her shoulder at the doors, hoping that they would open again to admit one more person. She had really been looking forward to integrating her magic with his skills. She had some wild ideas on how to make things far deadlier for Berith if the demon gave them the opportunity to fight.
“Why not?”
“Pinton is overseeing it, and Circe said a leader will be chosen from within. So, nobody is team leader yet.”
“You mean you might end up working for me?” Jessie joked, the two of them sharing a laugh.
Jessie was a strong witch, naturally inclined toward fire, but she had zero desire to lead others. She just wanted to be pointed in the direction of danger and unleashed to wreak havoc, that was all. It had slowed down her learning somewhat, and she was a year and a half older than Christine, though they were of the same rank, but that hadn’t mattered to their friendship one bit.
“Okay everyone, gather round,” Master Pinton said as the appointed time arrived.
The two shuffled forward, Christine glancing over her shoulder ever few steps, eyes locking on the door.
“What are you looking at?” Jessie asked in a hushed whisper.
“The doors,” she said. “Altair is supposed to be here. He said he would.”
“The dragon shifter?”
“Yeah. We were in the library and—”
“You were in the library with the dragon shifter? Alone?” Jessie asked, her voice carrying enough that several other witches looked over at them.
“Not like that!” Christine protested half-heartedly. Why wasn’t she being more adamant that it wasn’t more than just a study session? “We were just reading up on Lord Berith. That’s it.”
“You’re pretty defensive,” Jessie pointed out.
“Maybe I don’t want rumors going around that I have the hots for a dragon.”
“I never said you had the hots for him,” Jessie pointed out. “You just assumed that’s what I meant.”
“Well I don’t,” she said fiercely. Too fiercely. Jessie was right. Why was she so defensive? It’s not like Altair was anything special. He’d gotten under her skin from the start, trying to steal the books, arguing with her, even getting her in trouble! Why would she like him? He was a jerk, really. That was it.
“Whatever you say,” Jessie muttered under her breath.
Master Pinton looked at the two of them. “Are you ladies done yet? This is serious business. If you can’t handle it, then please leave.”
Shooting Jessie a quick glare, Christine straightened and looked straight ahead. This was not the start she wanted, and it was all Jessie’s fault. And Altair’s. Where was the dragon shifter?
“As you may have noticed,” Master Pinton was saying, drawing her thoughts back from Altair, pushing the image of him from her mind. “There are more of you here than we normally operate with as a team. None of you will be cut, unless you prove to be a detriment to the team with your attitude or unwillingness to follow orders. Thirteen of you will compose the team, with six alternates who will train on the regular and be ready to go if something happens to a primary member.”
Christine was already tuning the Master out, her mind wandering back to Altair. Their meeting in the library had been nothing but random occurrence, and purely a research session. Hadn’t it?
Now she was going back, analyzing every word, every look he’d given her, trying to decipher if there had been more to his actions than she’d thought. Did he like her? She couldn’t come up with anything to say so, and she most definitely did not like him, regardless of how attractive she found him. Just because she admired his broad shoulders and thick arms did not mean she liked him. She was allowed to think he was good looking, that his oval face and perfect round mouth were nice features. That his laugh was a pleasant rumble that made her smile.
No, she definitely did not like him. But he was cute.
The doors boomed open behind her.
Christine whirled, her face lighting up. It was Altair! He’d come after all. She was going to get a chance to see him again.
To work with him again, she corrected her mind very firmly. That was all. She was excited to try their powers together, nothing more. Just their powers, working to defeat bad guys, that was it.
“Sorry I’m late,” Altair said as he walked swiftly over to the group. “I couldn’t find the arena. The person I asked for directions sent me somewhere else entirely.”
Master Pinton’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “As you are not familiar with Winterspell’s layout to the extent the rest of us are, I will let this pass today, but today only. We are glad and eager to have a dragon working with us, but I won’t let your status distract us from our
