Page 7 of De-Witched

The words hit the same as they had the first time—like shrapnel that tore and twisted its way through Gabriel’s internal organs. He’d done all he could and he hadn’t measured up.

Noise echoed in his head. “I believe I’ve proven myself well capable of running this company.”

August nodded, as did James, a portly warlock who’d always taken the time to reminisce about Gabriel’s parents with him at any event the company had thrown. Across the table, he smiled at him, sympathy obvious.

It made Gabriel’s spine stiffer. He didn’t need sympathy. He needed his legacy.

“I think I speak for everyone when we say you have more than lived up to the hopes we had,” August said, his voice deeper than anyone would expect. It didn’t waver. “We’re not doubting your ability to run this company.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“It’s not an issue. It’s a clause in your father’s will.”

That set him back.

August held out a hand and an iPad appeared. Like Gabriel, his primary strength was conjuring, and a small fetch like that was as second nature as breathing. Something Gabriel was finding difficult as he watched August navigate to a page. With a subtle gesture, he projected the section of legal document onto the wall of glass that looked out over the somewhat “newer” section of New Orleans, what the locals referred to as the “American” side.

The lights dimmed and the windows tinted, allowing all of them to read the black type.

Gabriel ran his eyes over it, understanding the words and yet not comprehending how they made sense. “This cannot be right.”

August pursed his lips. Another gesture had the document disappearing, the lights to full power and the windows once again reflecting clear blue sky.

“Three months,” he confirmed. “Before you assume control, your father wanted you to spend some time living with limited powers amongst humans.”

Each word threatened to break him. Limited powers. Amongst humans.

“I’ve never heard this before.” Though his tone was even, underneath the table his hands remained tight enough that bone rubbed bone.

Something flickered in his uncle’s gaze before he placed the iPad with undue care onto the table. “It was discovered only recently.”

“The High Family—” Gabriel began, aware of the straws he was grasping at.

“Have always given this business leeway when dealing with humans,” August cut in. “For research, development, testing purposes. You know that.”

Yes, he did. They never had trouble finding both witches and invited humans to trial new products, the subjects given the lowdown of the ingredients and the processes before agreement. Their feedback had been instrumental for creating many of their final products which now sat in drugstores across the world. Goodnight’s Remedies couldn’t function without some degree of mingling. But—

“But,” he echoed his thoughts, consciously lowering his tight shoulders. “That is for business. What you’re asking...what the contract states is of a more personal nature.” And it made something constrict in his chest.

One thought pounded through him. Don’t make me do this.

August tapped his fingers on the table before rising. “Walk with me. Excuse us for a moment,” he told the others and headed for the door, which opened at his approach.

Feeling like a misbehaving schoolboy back at the boarding school all Higher sons had to go to, Gabriel stood with perfect control. He nodded at the discomforted board members, before following his uncle out and into the office across the hall.

It resembled the boardroom, rich with expensive wood and layered with books and artifacts from across the world, articles about the products they’d created, and photographs of family and staff.

Gabriel’s eyes lingered on the photo of his family, taken just after Melly was born, back when they’d still lived in England, before he moved to stand by his uncle at the windows.

After a moment, August spoke, keeping his eyes on the figures moving below. “When Laura and Alec founded this company, they did so because they wanted to make a difference in people’s lives, behind the scenes, without breaking rules.”

“I know, Uncle.”

“They started in the back room of their mansion, building it slowly but steadily until it became this.” August swept a hand around the opulent office. “A veritable empire that affects so many lives, employs many thousands of people—some human. And they did it because they cared.” He turned from the view, hazel eyes direct. “You don’t care, Gabriel.”

His chin snapped up at the unseen blow. “I have thought of nothing but this company since—”

“Not the company.” August indicated the people below. “About them.”

---