Spellcaster Wild Card by Nikki Jefford

Author:Nikki Jefford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nikki Jefford
Published: 2024-08-18T06:10:07+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

My next flight to LA is in economy class—and it’s the red-eye. There’s no driver waiting to pick me up and no hotel suite. I received an email with instructions, including my roommate assignment at the Solace Hotel, where all contestants are staying whenever we come into town to perform on the show.

I take an Uber to the hotel, where I have just under an hour to stash my luggage in my room and meet my roommate. The email included her name (Blair Monroe), species (witch), and the team she’s on (Team Cleo).

Well, at least I don’t have to worry about getting into a biting match with a werewolf or a vampire.

After checking in and getting my keycard at the front desk, I ride the elevator to the eighth floor and find my room for the next five days. I could have checked in yesterday afternoon, but I chose to spend one more night at home. It’s not like I have to worry about lack of sleep the way a witch or werewolf does.

I knock on door 809 before slipping in my keycard and walking in. The curtains are drawn, making the room appear as inviting as a dark cavern. There’s a smoky, lingering scent of burning sage.

I don’t get the sense that anyone’s here, but I call out, “Hello?” all the same while feeling around for a light switch. Both beds are empty and made up, but the one closest to the door has a midnight-blue throw blanket in the center with protective rune symbols stitched into the fabric in silver thread. Tiny figures carved out of gemstones take up space on the nightstand, including an obsidian owl facing my side of the room.

Right, well, this isn’t friendship camp, so whatever. Blair’s probably having breakfast with the other witches and wizards before heading over to the Spellcaster studio, where the lucky spellcasters who made it through blinds have been instructed to arrive no later than 10:00 a.m.

I shoot Mariana a quick “Wish you were here” text. She’s been so sweet to send me encouraging messages, gifs, and emojis leading up to the competition. I’ve promised to keep her up to date behind the scenes. The roommate report will have to wait.

I don’t mind having the bathroom to myself as I freshen up my makeup and hair. I’m dressed in a floral, bohemian blouse with long, puffy sleeves over blue jeans. My hair is pulled back softly from my face and gathered in a loose bun near the top of my head. Brown liner and mascara make my gray-blue eyes pop. My cheeks have a bronzed, sun-kissed glow, and I’ve used a natural shade of pink lipstick that gives them an attractive blush. Large hoop earrings practically touch my shoulders. The gold tone matches my round “H” pendant hanging over the loose blouse.

With my new figure, I could dress in a miniskirt and crop top, but in my head, I’m still two-hundred-twenty pounds. Besides, miniskirts and crop tops aren’t my style, and I’m in love with the new top I’m wearing now.

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