The Dark Side of Magic (The Dark Side, Book 2)

Homecoming

[Author's Note: Hey, everybody! After 6500+ words, I am finally done! I meant to get this chapter out a little sooner than I ultimately did, but - on the plus side - at least it hasn't been a month and a half, right? Sorry it took me so long, though.
Again, thank you so much for being so patient with me. I apprthieciate it, I truly do.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Dedicated to my bestie, Sydney - because, how could it not be? Spencer is her beloved.
Also, though - Happy (Slightly Belated) Birthday to the beautiful and the supportive Norah, who has been following The Dark Side since the beginning. I cannot thank you enough, love.

Without further ado - here is Chapter 8. I hope that it meets your expectations.]

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Kylie awoke for the final time a handful of hours later. She had tossed and turned all night, restless and uneasy.

She had dreamt in broken fragments and blinding flashes, saturated in blood and rife with suffering. Glimpses of war and death had haunted her slumber, causing her to break out into a cold sweat. She had awoken what seemed like a dozen times, and each time felt suffocated by the growing sense of dread that had settled into the pit of her stomach, seemingly reluctant to leave.

She ran her hands through her hair, gripping it tight in frustration. She already had half a headache thanks to the way she had spent her night, and she knew that it would only get worse as the day wore on.

Looking at the clock on the night-table, she realized that the others would be arriving soon; she'd asked them all to arrive sometime after noon, and it was quarter to ten now. She knew that she would have to explain - and probably defend - Caius long before actually getting around to bringing Spencer back to the world of the living, and the thought exhausted her.

 She stood, stripping her clothes off and leaving a trail to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she brushed her teeth as she waited for the water to heat. Rinsing her mouth out, she spat into the sink and turned on her heel, stepping into the heat of the shower.

The hot water enveloped her, searing her skin, and she flash-backed to the night that Spencer had found her lying broken on the shower floor.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and blanked her mind. She went through the motions, washing, conditioning, and rinsing her hair. She went through the motions, scrubbing her body and standing under the cascading water. Her mind was blissfully blank through it all, and she eventually shut the hot water off, toweling off before stepping out of the shower.

She picked up the lotion sitting on the counter, methodically smoothing it over her arms, her legs, her stomach, her lower back, and her thighs. Sighing, she looked in the mirror. She knew that she could magically dry her hair, and she considered it...she also considered leaving it wet.

Needing the routine in a life that had been sorely lacking stability of late, however, she opted to take the blow-dryer out of the vanity drawer and plug it into the outlet. Taking her brush, she set about the monotonous task, thankful that it required little thought on her part.

Within no time at all, her hair was dry. Sighing again, she put the blow-dryer away and walked back into her bedroom. She slipped into bra and panties, then hauled a warm black and silver sweater-dress over her head. She stood in front of her collection of shoes, opting for the flat-heeled, deep purple, suede boots in front of her. Grabbing them, she walked towards the dresser and pulled out a pair of tall black, silver, and purple socks that would match her outfit. She slid them on and pulled her boots up over them, straightening the very tops of her socks as they peeked out above the tops of her boots.