Page 10 of De-Witched

“No potions whilst unsupervised.”

She threw up her hands, as dramatic as he was contained. “Am I supposed to sit in the corner?”

“That would be perfect.” He almost smiled as he felt the hard thwack of a telekinetic forehead flick. “When I return, we’ll work on them then.”

“You suck at potions.”

Affronted, he drew back. “I do not.”

“You screw up twice as many potions as I do.”

“I disagree.”

She began to count them off on her fingers and he hurriedly intervened. “Regardless, it would bring your big brother some peace if you could refrain from blowing yourself up whilst he’s away.”

She laughed, the Goodnight dimple flashing in her cheek. “Fine. I’ll be careful if you’re careful. Or maybe I should be getting you to promise the opposite.”

He refused to go down that road.

She heaved a breath, drawing her knees up and propping her elbows on them. “So, where are you thinking?”

There was really only one place. “Chicago.”

“You’re not sticking to New Orleans?”

“No.” The last thing he needed was his contemporaries mocking him. “It will be easier somewhere further away.”

“Okay, but why Chicago?”

Gabriel grabbed his wine as it slid through the air at his gesture. “Emmaline Bluewater made waves when she and Tia Hightower opened a bar that caters to humans.” That idea alone... He’d have wondered how they’d got past the High Family, but the rulers were always more relaxed about business dealings. “I can use my connections to get a temporary position there. Emmaline is recently engaged to Bastian Truenote.”

“You know him?”

“Henry does.” Henry Pearlmatter was Gabriel’s oldest, maybe only, friend. A legacy Higher warlock like Gabriel, he knew every powerful family in the US and Europe.

“I heard he proposed to her last month at the Truenote ball.” A down-to-the-bone romantic, Melly sighed, eyes going gooey. “And after everyone was so mean to her.”

He hadn’t seen the moment that had set witch society ablaze, having been out in the gardens after meeting his mystery witch, wondering who she was and failing to figure it out. All for the best, he supposed, since it appeared she and Kole Bluewater were together.

He drank his wine, washing away the sudden bad taste.

Melly eyed him. “So, you want to work in a bar?”

“Why not?”

“Gabriel.” She made a “get real” gesture; one he was often on the receiving end of. “You suck with people.”

Gabriel worked his jaw, unable to rebut the point. “I’m sure I’ll manage.” And at least this job would have a literal boundary between him and the human clientele. Less chance of anything going wrong that way.

Melly wasn’t finished. “You’ll have to smile, be charming...”

“I’ll have to pour drinks and take money. How hard could that be?”

“Ha. Famous last words, brother.”

Leah charged into Toil and Trouble, letting the bar’s double doors swing shut on the sheets of rain pelting the sidewalks—and the people unlucky enough to be on them. Droplets slid down her back as she walked forward, making her squirm as she automatically greeted the customers she knew, smiling at those she didn’t.

To the group of men watching an NHL game on the enormous wide-screen hung on the exposed brick wall, she waved, adding some personal insults. The men were regulars, switching sports with the seasons, and she knew with April in sniffing distance, they’d be donning their baseball gear, same as she would. She’d never miss Opening Day. Cubs and proud, y’all.

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