Page 139 of De-Witched

She was his best chance at clemency, so he bent his upper body to her and bowed. “Isabella.”

“It’s good to see you, Gabriel. And you’ve brought such diverting company.” She waved a delicate hand. “Sit. Would you like sweet tea?”

“Thank you, no.” As none of them moved to sit on the provided velvet couches in the rose silk wallpapered room, he continued to stand. “I came for a purpose. We have,” he corrected. He looked at Leah, then back with his jaw set. “We want to set the record straight.”

“It’s thoughtful of you to come to us,” Julian said, arching his golden brow. “It’s rare witches have the nerve to yield so willingly for their punishment.”

Leah’s heart stopped for three excruciating seconds at the blond male’s lazy pronouncement. Just being in front of these four had sweat pooling at the base of her spine, little hairs lifting of their own accord. Their power was like static, on the edge of painful, and it butted against her skin. She’d understood intellectually the witches would be potent, but facing them all, every instinct whispered in warning not to make a target of herself.

“You already know.” Gabriel’s voice remained even.

The one he’d called Isabella cast him a pitying look as she opted to sit on one of the couches. She wore a pretty summer dress the color of raspberries, with a high collar and capped sleeves. The skirt swirled before settling around her legs. “This is witch society. The only thing that travels faster than gossip is Bianca,” she added, presumably referring to the butler who’d escorted them in. That was what Gabriel had greeted her with.

As Isabella’s gaze fell on her, Leah wondered if she should speak.

“You are a pretty toy,” the witch murmured.

Leah frowned before she could control herself. It made something like delight flicker in Isabella’s eyes.

Gabriel interrupted the byplay, voice steely. “Will you permit us to state our case?”

“You’ve broken the law.” The blonde female twin moved to sit next to Isabella, dressed in a long white skirt and an off-the-shoulder crimson top that bared her stomach. “Why should we hear you out?”

“Because I’m a Goodnight. And because I’m asking.”

The handsome warlock called Arlo looked at each of the others, then nodded. “Please.”

“Wait.” Isabella held up a hand. She tapped a finger against lips curled in a playful smile. “I say we let the human speak.”

Leah felt Gabriel’s instinctive no form as he locked in place next to her. But he didn’t let it out. Instead, he pressed his lips together, holding to his promise to trust her.

Part of her wished he hadn’t, as all four witches cocked their heads at her expectantly. All waiting for her to fail.

“Well,” she said, her voice cracking. It was that crack, and the hint of derision in the blonde twin’s—Luisa’s?—face, that snapped her spine straight. She wouldn’t let her fears control her, not now. Not ever again.

She set her shoulders. “My name is Leah Turner. I run a bar in Chicago and work in an animal shelter. And I’m in love with Gabriel Goodnight.”

It wasn’t easy, and she fumbled several times as they sat in stony silence, but Leah told them everything. Or at least, the version of everything that she and Gabriel had agreed on. The clause that had brought Gabriel to her, his time in the human world, the sabotage. And how they’d fallen in love. She hated exposing them like this. But she didn’t stop until she’d said everything she thought they needed to hear.

“She says you told her about us?” Luisa cocked her head, vaguely doubtful, talking to Gabriel as if Leah wasn’t there. “Doesn’t she own the bar with Emmaline Bluewater and Tia Hightower?”

Yes, she does, Leah retorted in her head, going to cross her arms before second-guessing the action.

Apology was in the quick flick of Gabriel’s eyes as he answered for her. “Yes. But they kept her in the dark.”

Isabella frowned as she sipped the sweet tea she’d conjured, but she didn’t say anything.

“It was me.” Gabriel fisted his hands at his sides and then immediately unclenched them. “I dragged her into this. I alone should face the consequences, should you deem consequences necessary.”

Leah’s head whipped toward him with a scowl. “No.”

“But I ask that you bend the law this once. I love her.” He said it again, firmer, louder, as the family—siblings?—stared. “I love her. If a punishment must be had, I will take it, but I ask for clemency.”

Isabella put down her sweet tea on a gold circular end table that carried a vase of lilies. Death flowers. Leah tried not to focus on that.

“I think it’s interesting,” she said in her melodic voice, one that carried a note of amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Gabriel plead for anything—or ask for anything, for that matter.”

“Indeed.” Luisa watched him as one did something new and fascinating. “He must really love this human. But the law is the law. It is there to protect us.”

---