Page 65 of Witch's Promise

Gabe's grin turned sheepish. "I may have called in a favor or two. Being a Shadowguard has its perks sometimes."

As they settled into their seats, the rich aroma of garlic and herbs enveloping them, Sean felt a curious mix of nostalgia and anxiety swirling in his gut. This was all so familiar, yet completely new. He had no idea how to navigate this new dynamic between them.

"So," Sean said, desperate to fill the silence as they perused their menus. "Did you ever learn how to cook? I remember you used to burn water back in the day."

Gabe laughed, the sound warming Sean from the inside out. "I'll have you know I've become quite the chef, thank you very much. Though I don't get to do it as often as I'd like these days. The job keeps me pretty busy."

"About that," Sean said carefully. "What exactly do you do? I mean, I know you said Shadowguard, but what does that entail?"

Gabe's expression turned thoughtful as he considered how to explain. "We're basically supernatural law enforcement," he said finally. "There's a whole hidden world out there – magic users, creatures from folklore, things that go bump in the night. Mostof the time, they coexist peacefully with the 'normal' world. But sometimes... sometimes things get messy. That's where we come in."

Sean listened, fascinated, as Gabe described some of the cases he'd worked on over the years. Rogue witches causing havoc in New York City, a werewolf pack dispute that nearly exposed the supernatural world to the general public, a particularly tricky situation involving a group of pixies and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

"Jesus," Sean breathed when Gabe finished. "And here I thought my life was complicated. How did you even get into this line of work?"

A shadow passed over Gabe's face, and Sean immediately regretted asking. But Gabe shook it off, offering a small smile. "It's okay," he said, reading Sean's concern. "It's actually kind of a funny story. I got attacked by a group of vampires a few years back – nasty situation, thought I was done for. But then this guy shows up out of nowhere, takes them all down like it's nothing. Turns out it was Alex – my boss now. He said he saw potential in me, offered me a spot on the team he was putting together."

Sean felt a surge of gratitude towards this Alex person, mixed with a twinge of something that might have been jealousy. "Sounds like a good boss," he managed. "I'm glad he was there to save you."

Gabe nodded, his expression warm. "Yeah, he's been like a mentor to me. Helped me figure out how to use my magic for something good, you know?"

The conversation flowed easily after that, years of distance melting away as they caught up on each other's lives. Sean found himself relaxing, the constant tension he'd been carrying for so long easing with each shared laugh and gentle touch.

It wasn't until their entrees arrived that Gabe turned the tables, asking Sean about his own work. Sean tensed, thefamiliar guilt rising in his throat. But Gabe's open, non-judgmental expression gave him the courage to be honest.

"Remember that night in the alley?" Sean asked, his voice low.

Gabe nodded, confusion clouding his features. "Yeah, of course. What about it?"

Sean took a deep breath, steeling himself. "That was me. I mean, I was the one fighting. There's this underground fight club – magical and non-magical alike. The Elder, he recruited me a few years back. It was a way to make money, yeah, but also..."

He trailed off, unable to articulate the self-destructive impulse that had driven him to the fights. The need to punish himself, to feel something, anything, other than the crushing weight of his guilt.

Gabe's hand found his across the table, squeezing gently. "Hey," he said softly. "You don't have to explain. I get it. We all have our ways of coping."

The simple acceptance in Gabe's voice threatened to undo Sean completely. He blinked hard against the sudden sting of tears, overwhelmed by a gratitude he couldn't begin to express.

"I quit," Sean said, his voice rough. "The day I rescued Jessy. Told the Elder I was done for good."

Gabe's smile was equal parts proud and relieved. "Good. I'm glad. That life it wasn't good for you, Sean. You deserve better than that."

The sincerity in Gabe's voice, the unwavering belief in his eyes, was almost too much for Sean to bear. How could Gabe still see good in him after everything he'd done? How could he offer forgiveness so freely when Sean couldn't even forgive himself?

"I don't know about that," Sean muttered, unable to meet Gabe's gaze. "I've done a lot of shit I'm not proud of, Gabe. Things that can't be undone."

Gabe's grip on his hand tightened. "Hey, look at me."

Sean raised his eyes reluctantly, bracing himself.

"We've all got baggage, Sean," Gabe said firmly. "All of us have done things we regret. What matters is what we do going forward. And from where I'm sitting? You're trying. You're facing your past, owning up to your mistakes. That counts for a hell of a lot in my book."

His cheeks ached from smiling.The day had unfolded like something out of a dream, each moment more surreal than the last. After lunch, Gabe had dragged him to an old arcade they used to frequent as teens, challenging him to a series of increasingly ridiculous dance battles.

"Jesus Christ," Sean had wheezed, doubled over and gasping for breath after a particularly intense round of DDR. "When did you get so fucking good at this?"

Gabe's grin was equal parts smug and playful. "Secret Shadowguard training. You'd be amazed how often saving the world requires sick dance moves."

They'd wandered the boardwalk next, sharing an obscenely large ice cream cone and dodging the occasional recognition from locals who remembered them. Sean couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard his stomach hurt, the sound startling him with its unfamiliarity.

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