Page 30 of Commanding Chaos

Miles lived on the second floor of a brown brick building from the early nineteen-hundreds not far from Salem Common. A white pitched portico covered the entrance leading to the foyer, and matching white frames trimmed the six small windows occupying the front façade.

Inside, the unoccupied ground-floor apartment door stood bolted to the right and a staircase stretched up in front of us. We climbed the steps and stopped outside his door. “Let me do the talking. He’s going to need gentleness.”

“I can be gentle.”

I lifted my hand to knock and paused. “Can you?”

Chaos pursed his lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

“Then keep your mouth shut.” I knocked three times. He didn’t answer, so I tried again. “Miles? It’s Ash. Can I come in?”

Something thudded on the floor and scraped across wood. “Coming,” he called, and footsteps sounded before the door swung open. “What’s up. Another monster to fight?” He faked a smile.

“No, nothing like that.” My brow creased in sympathy. At least, I hoped he viewed it as sympathy. He could have interpreted it as pity, so I tried for a neutral expression. “Can we come in?”

He looked Chaos up and down before nodding. “Sure. Can I get you a drink? I think I’ve got some whiskey in here somewhere.”

“No, thanks.” I walked into the living room and sank onto the couch. I know, I know. I’d been avoiding being near Chaos, but Miles only had one other chair available, and his laptop sat in the seat.

“I’ll take a whiskey.” Chaos sat next to me. Our thighs touched, so I scooted away. That earned me a smirk.

Miles disappeared into the kitchen, and I took in his space. Brown furniture stood on hardwood floors that looked original to the building. Two black and white photos of a spooky forest hung above the couch. Otherwise, the walls were beige and bare.

A tan rug covered the floor. The corner closest to me had rolled under, causing a major tripping hazard, so I slipped my foot beneath it, untucking it before smoothing it down. An armoire stood against the far wall, one door slightly ajar, and I fought the urge to get up and close it. Instead, I straightened the coffee table.

Chaos chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes. “It didn’t line up with the couch. It annoyed me.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting guests.” Whoops. I didn’t hear Miles come in. He handed a glass to Chaos, set his on an end table, and moved the laptop to the floor before taking a seat. “How can I help?”

“We have news about Ginger’s death.” Chaos sipped his drink, and I gave him a warning look, which he completely ignored. “We believe the Boston coven is responsible.”

Miles’s eyes widened then narrowed. “What makes you think that?”

“Ahem,” I said sharply before Chaos could continue. “When we were at the store, getting food for the meeting, two witches from the Boston Magic Society were following us. Their presence in Salem at the exact time of Ginger’s murder makes us believe they’re responsible.”

He swallowed hard, his head bobbing slightly as he processed my words. “Why? What would they…?”

“You know about the curse on my bloodline, right?” Or rather, the story we were all told about me breaking the hex. Nobody needed to know the truth. Not yet. Not ever.

He nodded, so I explained our theory about Ginger being sent to check and see if the curse was really broken. “So we figure either she became too ingrained in our coven for them to extract her without us catching on, or she wanted to defect and stay with us full time. Either way, they decided their best option was to kill her. I’m so sorry.”

He took a deep breath and scratched the back of his head, his mouth moving like he was trying to form words that wouldn’t come. He blinked rapidly, and finally, he spoke, “I should have reported her. I could have saved her.”

“Did you know she was a spy?” Chaos asked.

“No.” He shook his head adamantly. “I knew she was experimenting with some spells she found online, but that’s all. I guess…” He drew in a shaky breath. “I guess she lied to me about where she learned them. I didn’t… I didn’t know her at all, did I?”

His eyes glistened, tugging at my heartstrings.

“I’m sure you knew a good part of her.” I patted his knee.

“We all have secrets we hide from those closest to us,” Chaos unhelpfully added. I wanted to elbow him, but I thought better of it.

“What about you?” Miles inclined his head at my demon. “Where are you from? Ash told Ginger you were a family friend, but she told Chrys you were a distant relative. Which is it?”

My gaze locked with Chaos’s, and I froze. Had I given them two different stories? Did I mention where he was from? Friggity frack. I was a horrible liar.

“She didn’t mean a literal relative.” Chaos saved the day. “Our families go back far enough in history that it feels we could be related, doesn’t it?”

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