Page 133 of De-Witched

“Are you kidding me?” Will snapped his open mouth shut, staggering to his feet. “He was weak, emotional. For a human.”

“That’s what this company is all about.” James sent him a speaking look, one that had an overlay of warning sparks. “Humans are just as worthy of help as witches. Something you’ll have time to ponder after the High Family is done with you.”

Bastian chuckled, rubbing his hands in glee. “Maybe they’ll strip you of your magic and sentence you to be human. The High Family love an ironic twist.”

Will lost what color he had. Then he uttered five words that yanked Gabriel’s feet from under him.

“Leah Turner knows about witches.”

Gabriel froze. Through the haze of panic, he swung his gaze to his uncle, to the board, saw the horror dawn on Bastian and Henry’s faces.

“He’s lying,” Bastian instantly said, scoffing, stepping forward as if to shut Will up personally. “How would she? Why would she?”

“She’s a third owner in a witch bar. She’s been sleeping with Gabriel Goodnight.” Pleased with the upper hand, Will tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’ve been observing for a while. I’ve seen it all. And I’ll have no problem telling everyone—including the High Family.”

Henry shifted as if to shield Gabriel. “Nobody will believe a warlock who’s looking to escape punishment.”

August stayed silent.

“Lord Pearlmatter is correct.” James steepled his hands, the beginnings of a frown tugging on his bushy eyebrows. “Nobody will believe him—provided you cut all ties.”

Gabriel’s mouth dried up.

No. The word echoed in his head.

“Keep the company,” James went on, oblivious. “Your legacy. And end the relationship with the human, distancing yourself from her.”

Gabriel made himself speak. “Or?”

“Or,” August finally spoke up, face carefully blank. “Or you could go to the High Family and ask for clemency.”

“Bullshit,” Will sneered from his corner. “You know she’s only interested in you because you’re a warlock.”

One of the board members waved their hand and tape appeared over Will’s mouth.

August acted as though there hadn’t been an interruption, gaze boring into Gabriel, through him. His voice gave nothing away. “Throw yourselves on their mercy, ask for forgiveness and permission to bring Leah fully into this world. And potentially lose everything. It’s your choice.”

29

Gabriel was on the manor’s downstairs terrace, where he always went to think, when Melly flew out the French doors.

“Please tell me you’re not considering this.”

Chuck lifted his head from where he’d been lying in a pool of sunlight, wagged his tail in greeting as Gabriel turned to face her. “What?”

“Uncle August told me.” She stopped in front of him, hands on hips. Her charm bracelet glinted in the afternoon light. “Will. The ultimatum they handed you. It’s BS. Tell me you’re not even considering it.”

He took a breath, released it. “I’ll make sure the company is safe for you, no matter what.”

She blew a raspberry, making Chuck woof in response. “Screw that. I meant, tell me you’re not even considering the answer. Tell me you’re only out here thinking up ways to persuade the High Family to let Leah in.”

It made him smile, faintly. Of course she’d be on Leah’s side.

He gave her a searching look. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you she knew?”

“No. Because I already guessed.” She laughed a little as she joined him at the railing, diverting to give Chuck a quick fuss. “C’mon, Gabriel. She never questioned why or how I’d show up from New Orleans so quickly, or any of the small magic I accidentally used. Besides.” She leaned back, eyes on the landscaped gardens. “Leah can’t lie for shit.”

It startled him into a laugh.

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