Page 155 of Castings & Curses

With a huff, Misty sat down. “Fine. Whatever. He’s all yours.” She grinned at Sage, then texted her:Don’t really need him. Doing you a favor to get him out of your… hair.

A dancing penis emoji in Misty’s text forced Sage to stifle a fit of laughter. The laughter caught in her throat when Zelda and her three warlocks stepped inside the room. Rafael stood centered in the doorway alone.

Her heart stopped beating, then zoomed into fifth gear. The glimpse of him kick-started her desire, and joy jammed her hollows once again, except that freaky crater of missing magic.

His gaze swept the room, landed on her for a second and bounced onward. No recognition, no joy, nothing in his eyes. He strode forward and awkwardly linked his arm through Zelda’s arm, as if responding to an unspoken command. Curious chaos set the room buzzing.

Gasping, Sage clamped onto the edges of the podium, using it to prop up her legs threatening to buckle and dump her on the plank floor. Ricky and Jessica rushed to her side, ready to catch her if she fell. They couldn’t catch her heart from shattering into pieces and pinging her rib cage.

“Call the meeting to order,” Jessica ordered.

Air lodged in Sage’s throat. She’d shed her last tears over her parents’ death and had not shed another since. In that moment, she wanted to smack Zelda upside the head and demand answers from Rafael. No tears, just recriminations and epic bewilderment.

“He doesn’t belong to you now. Don’t fight her over this,” Jessica hissed. “She’s not worth shirking your duties and new leadership role over. You trained for this all your life. Don’t let one warlock destroy you.”

“I know all that.” Sage spoke through gritted teeth, her voice almost a growl. She banged her palm on the microphone several times to restore order to the room. “Settle down. Let’s finish the lottery.”

Everyone returned to their seats, making room for the Helwig entourage in the rear. Rafael sat next to a smirking Zelda. Sage caught his eye, and they locked gazes for a few too quick seconds. A spark of recognition widened his eyes for a fraction before Zelda leaned over to whisper in his ear. Sage looked away from all that was unholy.

“Joshua, since Zelda’s here, do you accept her bid and the Helwig coven?”

He seemed to hem and haw a bit, his focus bouncing from Misty to Zelda, then landing on her. “Thought you’d make a bid for me. Guess your rep was overrated. I need an older witch who can teach me what you lack,” he said in such a snide tone, Sage wanted to smack him to next Friday.

“Well, then, have at her.” Sage waved her arm in Zelda’s direction. “He’s all yours, Zelda.” She bit her tongue to halt the words she wanted to spew out, and to stop the same old litany vaulting to her mind about not having the right character, smarts, or dedication to follow in her mother’s footsteps. An epic shitshow had ruined her day, and she wanted it done, wanted every non-Wilde witch and warlock to get the hell off her property.

With another nasty hiss, Jessica pried the microphone from Sage’s grip. “It’s settled. Joshua goes to Zelda Helwig.” Her clap met half-hearted applause from the audience.

Joshua stomped to the Helwig coven, his features stormy dark. Zelda gestured to an empty chair next to her and he sat, squishing Zelda between himself and Rafael. She laid her hand proprietarily on both Joshua’s and Rafael’s thighs.

Sage wanted to upchuck the last three days and pretend they never existed. Sure as the fog promised to roll in over the bay tonight, the witchworld would see a new Sage, a new order, a new everything. She may have lost Rafael to the vilest witch in Oz, but she’d damn sure not lose the role defined by the Wilde High Priestesses who’d preceded her. Not now. Not ever.

Between burying her emotions and Jessica bolstering her up to manage the lottery, a grueling couple hours later, one last name remained on the list.

Despite her aunt’s nagging, a renewed eagerness to plead her case for Rafael sent a thrill through her chest. Maybe he played Zelda by hanging with her since she’d brought him to the festival. Whatever. She’d lure him from the hag for good.

“Last but not least, the final candidate is Rafael Reyes,” Jessica called out. “Rafael, please advance and make your choice.”

He remained fixed in place, his confusion clear as his eyes bore into Zelda. Excited chatter and murmuring rippled through the audience.

Sage leaned over the mic Jessica had returned to the podium. “Rafael, you must follow the process since two High Priestesses are vying for you.”

“I don’t understand,” he said loud enough for the entire room to overhear.

Why is he hanging all over Zelda as if she’s the only steak at a tofu convention? Sage wanted to fly to him, extract him from the Helwig realm, and shake sense into him.

“Oh, dear boy. Yes, let’s play this out.” Zelda blew out an exaggerated sigh. “Go and hear what High Priestess Wilde has to say. I’m curious what the twit will spew myself.” She tapped Rafael’s thigh. He wiped his palms on his jeans and walked toward the podium.

Burying her annoyance at Zelda’s weary insults, Sage’s senses feasted on him. She recalled the touch of his fingers, the warmth of his body, the firm softness of his lips. He wore the same gray T-shirt and jeans from earlier that morning, but Sage noticed a pendant hanging off his neck and a beaded bracelet he hadn’t worn when he’d left her room earlier. As he walked closer, Sage identified the silver pendant. Perspiration formed on her chest, and she wanted to wither and die. The bobcat necklace meant he belonged to Zelda, or at the very least promised to choose her, after already accepting her bid, plea, or blackmail, however Zelda couched it.

A grievous loss tried to submerge Sage, and she rammed the grief below her rising aether. The telltale headache flirted behind her eyes. Grit hadn’t reached her eyeballs, but one more misstep, threat, or horrendous news byte might trigger a swell.

When Rafael tipped his head back, not one iota of recognition flickered in his blank stare. Flustered beyond reason, she buried her emotions so deep, she’d need three earth witches to dig them out. Everything felt out of whack. What new clusterfuck had Zelda caused? Sage needed to prevent the Helwigs from plowing over the western region.

No time like the present.

Everything changed, and her future solidified in her mind. No more raver. No more agreeing to the Helwigs and their kind or taking bullshit from the witches of the West. They’d voted her in, and she’d be the High Priestess they needed, whether they wanted her or not.

She slammed her palm on the microphone. “I’m taking fifteen minutes for a private chat with Rafael before I make my offer. Since he’s the last unbonded warlock on the list, you are all free to leave, except for Zelda.”

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