Page 107 of De-Witched

“So?”

“So, I want her to like you.”

“Why?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t make me hit you, Goodnight.” At his perplexed expression, she couldn’t stop the wave of affectionate sympathy. He was so obtuse sometimes. “I want them to see who you are.”

“A karaoke singer.”

“No.” The word came out on a laugh. She tugged on his jacket, pulling him down even closer. “As a man who’d do anything for those he cares for.” Awkwardness swamped her as the words left her mouth. Shit. She found her next breath difficult as he studied her, the green of his eyes vivid even in low lighting. “Um. That is... If you do care for me. A little.”

This close, she saw every micro-movement in expression. “This is important to you?”

“Yes.” She lifted her hand to cup his cheek, unable to stop herself. “I know you don’t care how people see you, but I don’t want anyone to think of you as the Warlock of Contempt. I want them to see you.”

“And the best way is karaoke.”

She huffed a small laugh, her thumb smoothing over the hint of stubble that had grown in throughout the day. “Maybe.”

He was quiet for a long moment, the only noise the clink of glasses, the murmur of conversations, and the violent thump of her heart.

When he sighed, that heart leaped.

But five minutes later, as Gabriel reluctantly climbed on stage to the enthusiastic applause of Bastian and Henry, it was all she could do to hold her jittering nerves together. Oh, God. What if he was terrible? What if he was about to make a fool of himself?

“If they make fun of him, I’m going to sic my dogs on them.” Leah glared at Bastian and Henry. “No! I’m going to call Tia and sic her on them.”

“I can’t believe you got him up there.” Emma blinked fast, as if that might make Gabriel disappear. “I seriously underestimated you. Or him.” Speculation crept into her face. “There’s more to this than karaoke, isn’t there?”

Leah barely heard her. Please be okay, please be okay, she chanted inside her head.

Then the first notes of the song he’d selected came through the speakers. Leah froze, processed, and broke into a grin so wide, it hurt her cheeks. “Unbelievable.”

Even Emma laughed as Gabriel stepped up to the mic. He didn’t sway or bounce his feet, just stood there tall and elegant as he waited for his cue. And when it came, he leant to the mic, hands linked behind his back, and politely said in a British monotone perfect for the song: “Tequila.”

“All right,” Emma murmured in Leah’s ear as Gabriel didn’t react to the cheers from the bar. “Maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

Leah just grinned.

Gabriel didn’t feel as at home as he’d expected as he claimed the seat in the conference room at Goodnight’s Remedies. He’d left Leah asleep in his bed, nudging Delilah off his foot as she’d plopped on it when he’d stopped to brew coffee—he had the hang of it now—petting Rosie as she’d pranced over and then Louie as he toddled behind. He’d dressed in one of his suits, the act like donning armor.

A long-distance portal meant cold sweat was still drying down the small of his back, but at least his temples had stopped pounding as he faced his uncle and the rest of the board down the long rectangular table.

All heads turned to August as he began. “I know we’re all busy, so I’ll get right to it. The board has asked you to come here to express congratulations at how well you’ve been doing in Chicago.”

Gabriel absorbed that without expression. When he’d been summoned unexpectedly, he’d assumed trouble, that the board suspected Leah knew the truth. He threaded his fingers together to hide his relief.

“We’re all so impressed,” James said, adjusting his body as he sat forward. “I’m not sure I could’ve gone this long with barely any magic.”

“It’s been an adjustment.”

At Gabriel’s dry comment, laughter rippled around the room. The atmosphere was relaxed, pleased. Strangely, Gabriel felt stirrings of resentment at their approval.

“Will even says you’ve learned how to cook?” another witch asked from across the table.

“Cook is a bit of a stretch.” He glanced at his uncle’s assistant, who stood unobtrusively in the corner, a pad and pen taking minutes at his side. “I can use a toaster.” He allowed a moment of self-satisfaction at that fact.

“And how are you finding mixing with humans?” Fiona, a witch who’d been on the board with his parents, watched him with interest. “In the past, you’ve always been vocal about wanting to keep your distance.”

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