Page 65 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

Priscilla didn’t possess the memories of her former life—her former lives. She didn’t have the same personality. All she had was a connection to Emiliano Diaz, a bond of magic and friendship.

Whether she’d found him after living a full, rich life like Diaz’s first familiar or as a young cub confused by this daunting world, familiars had a unique link to their witch partners in how they synced to their lifespan, the human longevity—despite how short it felt most days. It reduced the likelihood of their loss as most animals had much shorter life expectancies than humans. Not with familiars. They could live as long as their witch, sometimes even outlive them, which was always a sad state of affairs.

Familiars who lost their witch didn’t gain a new bond mate; their witches didn’t reincarnate like the animals. They simply left a vacuum of magic with their familiar friend, who’d spend the rest of their days waiting to be reunited with their other half.

But as much as Diaz feared the chasm his death would cause, the life of his children he’d miss out on, the wife he’d leave alone, the world he’d no longer protect, he quaked at the horrors of failing or abandoning his familiar who he worried for with every breath. Priscilla was the other half of his soul, his magic, his mind and personality. It was something I couldn’t grasp.

Despite hearing his fears, his thoughts, I couldn’t connect on that level, the degree where someone was you while also themself. Yes, I’d known love, and so had Diaz, but the way hecared for his familiar like a parent, a friend, a child all at once—it was the same bond Gael held for King Clucks.

It was the same connection I rolled my eyes at for every bestial familiar witch I’d taught, met, or interacted with. It transcended the love of a pet, no matter how strong the bond. And yes, I often believed I loved Charlie and Carlie to the same degree, yet something in those bestial thoughts continued, proving the bond remained stronger. This was your best friend, who you shared every secret with, the parent who offered advice, the child you rooted for. Familiar bonds were unique in their own right in a way that simply transcended thought.

“We can also unravel the fates of your future.” The Sisters Three weaved their hands round and round. Each woman danced with a white emotionless aura between the strings of the body they shared. “See now what will befall you, were you to be foolish enough to oppose us.”

Bloody images of Priscilla flashed before Diaz’s eyes. His broken body slumped over cracked armor, shattered wards, pieces of a blade. Each breath was excruciating, inhaling the possible future that these wicked witches intended on bringing about, holding a future of death in his lungs as a past of horror looped through his memories. The witches bombarded Diaz with every wrong choice he’d ever made, every misstep that led him to this exact moment where he’d die at their hands.

A bear’s silhouette tore through the bloody collage stapled onto the surface of Diaz’s mind. With a low growl and a swift slash of her large claws, Priscilla linked her thoughts with her human partner, proving no psychic could shatter the connection between a witch and their familiar.

Diaz snapped to attention; his mind released from the glimpses of potential futures The Sisters Three sent in waves. If it was even futures. Clearly one of them was a telepath, she could’ve merely painted illusions in thoughts, tinkering withfears and tilting Diaz’s perception of reality. They couldn’t reveal the future so casually, so callously, right?

It didn’t matter what they did, because Enchanter Diaz was now aware of the trickery and immune thanks to the aid of his familiar’s borrowed thoughts, clear thoughts, thoughts of an animal that couldn’t be perceived by the best psychics.

Unsheathing his weapon, Diaz kept the tip of the sharp blade trained on The Sisters Three with one hand while circulating telekinesis with his other hand. Glyphs glowed. Their protective magics worked to push away psychic energy, knocking even me several yards away to hover in silence as his thoughts vanished. A few of the protective symbols snapped and crackled before the light of their magic faded.

“You paint quite the tale.” Diaz shifted his stance, readying his blade. “But I’ve seen your future already. A friend told me every possibility, including the ones you three are ignoring.”

Milo. Enchanter Evergreen had prepared every member of the Global Guild, possibly every guild of Chicago, of the events about to unfold. Well, knowing Milo, he’d only shared the pieces of the puzzle they needed to solve the problem.

“Oh? Oh? Oh?” The Sisters Three danced in their body, each caressing their thighs and waist with the aura energy of their hands. They weren’t flaunting or flirting, for this action could only be seen by me—who the three of them were unaware of—but instead, they radiated psychic energy, coating their shared body with more of their magic.

Weird. It was as if their body didn’t have a trace of psychic magic itself. They seemed wedged into this body; their white auras held strings tangled and hooked into the form they wielded. It was as if they’d possessed a person much like a demon would. No. Not only demons. I had horrible memories shared from my Doppler’s days of controlling the minds of others so he could slink through the city while cloaked fromdetection. Perhaps these three did the same thing. They could be somewhere else, safe and sound, while their minds forced their way into some poor, unwilling host body.

“I’ve seen the future where I drop you to your knees, shackled and bound and sharing a cell with your friend, The True Witch.”

“Shackled and bound,” the lighter lilt said with a wiggle of their body’s hips. “Likes it rough,” the raspy voice said, slapping her butt. “Bound,” the stern voice said, moving her finger back and forth disapprovingly. “No, no, no. We The Sisters Three are divine. Divinity cannot be bound, cannot be stopped. We do not predict potentials; we speak of prophecy. Our words are law.”

The body stilled, auras of the other two sisters hunched their shoulders, hanging high above their own body in an ominous and foreboding manner. Then in unison they screeched, “Law. Law. Law. You defy the law!” The stern sister’s image reeled her sister’s white auras back down into their shared body and then said, “You defy us.”

Magic buzzed, piercing and powerful, and ready to obliterate Enchanter Diaz in one fatal blow. I felt it in their presence, painting the reality of potential, declaring the future they sought. Clairvoyance didn’t feel like this, did it? No. Nothing this foul had ever poured from Milo. Their merger, their branches, their vile minds conjured this horror.

Priscilla roared so loudly it quieted the psychic whistle in the air. The huge bear lunged from above, barreling headfirst in full plate armor. Every glyph coating Priscilla’s gear radiated strength, transforming her nosedive of concentrated telekinesis into a fucking explosion.

The Sisters Three had an expression of perplexed shock, naturally unaware of the bear’s surprise attack, but they pivoted, moving ever so slightly as the tackle of more than a thousand pounds of pure, unmatched muscle crashed into the street.

It created a huge wave of destruction from the propulsion, the weight, the force of telekinesis all thrust into the street. It shattered concrete, burrowed deep into the sewers of the city. Pieces of asphalt flew in every direction.

“Yeehaw, motherfuckers!” Diaz leapt between the debris, bouncing from one piece to the next while he sliced through the air. The chaos didn’t deter him for a second; he’d accounted for it, anticipated it. Maybe. I couldn’t know for certain, with his blade’s glyphs keeping my telepathy at bay.

The Sisters Three barely evaded the strike of his sword, each slash pushed them back, body and auras. The blade didn’t need to hit them to hurt. The glyphs repelled their psychic energy, knocking their footing off, sending a searing pain through their body. I’d been hit by wards meant to dampen psychic branches; it was like your brain was the opposite pole of a magnet being held in place by your skull but desperately trying to claw its way out to escape the magnetic repulsion.

The Sisters Three and Diaz moved so quickly that I struggled to track them through the wreckage. Their levitation and telekinesis propelled them every which way, zipping across this battlefield. Every piece of rock and gravel slowly froze midair, floating in place at the will of Priscilla, who unleashed a ferocious roar that sent every speck of the broken ground propelling toward The Sisters Three like meteors.

The collision created an explosion of dust. It quickly funneled upward, directed by the gentle guidance of telekinesis, revealing The Sisters Three remained unscathed by the strike.Dammit.

“You think we didn’t foresee such a turn of events?” the lighter lilt asked. “Arrogant, Witchboy. Cowboy. Bearboy,” the raspy voice added with a scoff. “We know everything,” said the stern voice.

“Even this?” Diaz stood confidently while Priscilla continued clearing away the smoky dust, revealing more witches levitating around them, surrounding and securing the scene.

They wore the same Global Guild uniformed jackets as the medical staff, emblems of gold pinned to their chest displaying their station. These were not elite members of the coveted guild like Enchanter Diaz, like the ranks Milo had recently joined. But these witches were as skilled as any enchanter and worked as support for the Global Guild.

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