Page 86 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

“It was truly an honor to lead the guild teams in this collaborative effort to restore order at the MDC,” Campbell said, pulling my attention back to her careful answers. “Honestly, it’s just further proof of the amazing talent and independence Chicago’s industry witches possess.”

After everything that’d happened, the way the events unfolded, the demand for answers was huge, and everyone clamored for a seat front and center to address the public. Of course, Campbell ensured she led the pack on assuaging fears.

“Well, with the assistance of the Global Guild,” Trisha said, in some not-so-subtle attempt to turn the discussion toward Gladiatrix and Enchanter Diaz, who were still in the city but out of the public eye, much like Milo.

“Yes, the Global Guildhelped,” Campbell said, pausing heavily on the word and adding doubt to the meaning for everyone listening—and it worked. Thoughts percolated in this questioning suspicion for how much Chicago actually required the Global Guild’shelp. “But to think, the strongest organization in the world still wanted or needed us when resolving this mission. An investigation that affected the entire world, and we witches of Chicago brought it to an end.”

I rolled my eyes. Campbell was one more leading answer away from dropping the stats on fatalities. Admittedly, casualties remained fairly low at the MDC despite the devastation unleashed. And even though Gemini Academy had been attacked by demons, by warlocks, by corrupted enchantments that leveled the entirety of the school grounds, no one was killed except for the inmates Theodore had dragged there and sacrificed to fiends. And The Sisters Three, who I’d executed with my own hands.

Hands that shook as I drove. The high that came from casting absolute judgment had faded and been replaced by something else. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t good, though, either.

And while Campbell boasted about the tremendous success of how events played out at Gemini Academy, I thought about the single email the leadership board had issued. Cancelled until further notice, more news to come, hope that everyone took this time to peacefully recover.

There was a real need to recover too. Emotionally and physically. None of the staff and students had been killed, but plenty were injured. Still, what a miracle they’d lived. Everyone had lived. Milo had lived. I’d lived.

“How’s your evening, Mr. Frost?” One of the attendants at Milo’s building immediately went to work when I drove up, pulling me from dwelling thoughts.

It’d become a familiar routine of me grumbling some greeting, handing a valet my keys, nodding politely as I went inside, and then taking the elevator to the penthouse floor at the top.

“Howdy, Mister Dorian, sir.” Ben swung the door open the second the elevator dinged like he’d stood watch for my arrival. And he had, using a sentinel of security that kept his warding barrier on the front door every time I stepped out of the place.

“You can just call me Dorian.”

“Of course, Dorian.” Ben smiled, snickering to himself about silly, bubbly thoughts that didn’t make much sense with all their bright colors.

“Did you eat while I was out?” I eyed the chocolate smeared around the corner of his lips.

“No,” Ben replied, helping add his telekinesis to the bags I floated inside.

I wanted to comment about him using his magic unlicensed, the fines applicable, but he had enough weighing on his thoughts. Plus, his casting was flawless for such a small child. It was tragic, the way everything had clicked for him when The True Witch locked him in that ocean for so long, days, weeks, rotting in his mind. Now, he continued working to hone his root magics and his branch.

“What’d you do while I was out?” I asked, slowly trying to find a way to broach the topic of Ben’s need to shield the penthouse when I left.

Seeing Milo return from battle had given the kid the briefest relief before panic and sadness immediately replaced those feelings. Fear inflated in Ben’s mind when he saw the bruises on Milo’s body, the sling he wore for his dislocated shoulder, the medical enchantments he had bandaged over so many big bruises. It seemed we both believed Milo was impervious toharm until the assault on Gemini Academy, until The True Witch.

“I dunno.” Ben brushed a hand through his messy sky-blue hair, forever changed by the extreme casting of his ward branch.

“You know, I was talking to the security outside while having a smoke because the weather’s finally bearable, you know?”

“You should stop that.”

“Talking to security?”

“No,” Ben whined.

“Talking in run-on sentences?”

“Nooooo,” Ben whined louder, then frowned, then huffed, and finally rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” I said with a half-smile, enjoying Ben’s aggravation because it’d pulled his thoughts away from fear. “They were going on and on about all these intricate wards they have over the building. Like I could not keep up with any of it. Apparently, there’s this multifaceted level of protection that not only shields the building but extends with extra barriers per room, then there’s this command that contacts local authorities—who you know just rush over, have you seen this place?—and there’s defense and attack protocols written into each of the wards, the enchantments, the I don’t even know. Just so much protection here in the building. Top-tiered security to keep everyone completely safe.”

“Sounds commlicated.” Ben pretended not to care, not to worry, but he wondered if the layers of protection were as sophisticated as the ones his daddy used to brag about. He wondered if they were as strong as his mommy’s metal armored warding over her body. He wondered if this penthouse even paled in comparison to the complex wards his town of Harmony Valley used. The same wards that didn’t stop The True Witch from sneaking into their home and killing everyone.

The idea of Milo dying flitted along Ben’s bubbled thoughts. The fear of seeing it pinched at his heart. It tugged at mine, too, making it stutter. The fear of dying, really dying, hit him like a boulder, devastating and inescapable.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that,” I blurted, unable to subtly shift the conversation, to guide it so Ben would open up naturally. All I wanted was to sweep away this terror that coiled around his every thought.

“Use your telemathy for that?” Ben stared with wide eyes.

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