Page 40 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
The silence stretched between us, comfortable yet charged with the kind of tension that suggested important conversations lurking just beneath the surface, like predators waiting to pounce.
"You've built something truly remarkable here," Callum said, his eyes taking in my technological setup with genuine admiration that made my chest do something unnaturally warm. "This integration of cutting-edge tech with advanced magical systems, it's absolutely brilliant."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks at the unexpected praise, though I tried to maintain my characteristic composure. "I had considerable time on my hands and a pressing need for projects that didn't involve human interaction."
"Sage." His voice shifted to something softer, more careful, like someone approaching a potentially dangerous animal. "About what I revealed earlier, about the Council forcing me to leave you?—"
"We don't need to dissect ancient history right now." I cut him off, but he reached across the desk, his fingers barely brushing mine with the lightness of butterfly wings.
"Actually, we do need to address this. Because every time we work together like this, every time we fall back into our old investigative rhythm, I can see you pulling away like you're preparing for inevitable disappointment. And I understand that defensive reaction completely. But I need you to know that leaving you wasn't just the worst decision of my life, it was the moment I stopped being the man I actually wanted to be."
I stared down at our almost-touching hands, noting how his warmth seemed to counteract the perpetual chill of my underground lair. "You were attempting to protect me from consequences."
"I was attempting to control an impossible situation through cowardice," he corrected with brutal honesty. "There's a significant difference. The Sage I fell in love with would have found a third option, some brilliant alternative that I was too terrified to envision. I should have trusted you to find that solution with me instead of making unilateral decisions like some kind of tragic hero in a poorly written romance novel."
For a moment, the case files and missing girls faded into background noise. It was just us, the weight of five years of separation between us, and the fragile possibility that maybe, just maybe, we could construct something better from the wreckage of what we'd lost.
"The missing girls need our complete focus," I said finally, though I made no effort to withdraw my hand from his gentle touch. "They deserve our best analytical thinking, not emotional distractions."
"They absolutely do," he agreed without hesitation. "But Sage? When this investigation is concluded, when those girls are safe and our murderer is facing justice, I want to try building something new with you. Not attempting to resurrect what we were, but creating something better from hard-earned wisdom."
I met his eyes, seeing not the boy who'd abandoned me in my darkest hour, but the man who'd returned to face the consequences of his choices. "Ask me that question again when we've saved them all."
His smile carried the kind of hope that made even my cynical heart consider the possibility of second chances.
"Now then," I said, turning back to the evidence with renewed focus, "tell me about your delightfully dramatic council confrontation. I assume you rattled some guilty cages?"
Nineteen
Sage
Istrode down the leaf-strewn sidewalk toward Paige's school, my black boots providing satisfying percussion against the autumn debris. The squat brick building loomed ahead with its faded blue trim and rusty playground, looking exactly like the kind of educational institution where dreams go to die slow, bureaucratic deaths.
Cosmo trotted at my heels, his silver-flecked fur gleaming in the weak October sunlight while his star-speckled eyes scanned our surroundings with the vigilance of a bodyguard expecting trouble. Smart cat; trouble had a way of finding me even during routine errands.
As I approached the school's front steps, a familiar figure detached itself from the shadows like a particularly unwelcome party guest. My day immediately took a turn for the worse as I recognized Tommy Bishop's smug, self-satisfied face. He leaned against the doorframe with armscrossed, wearing a sneer that could have curdled milk at fifty paces.
"Well, well, if it isn't the evil witch herself," he drawled, his nasal voice possessing all the charm of fingernails on a chalkboard. "Come to corrupt some more innocent young minds with your dark arts and general malevolent presence?"
I rolled my eyes with the practiced ease of someone who'd dealt with idiots professionally. "Tommy," I acknowledged with all the enthusiasm of someone greeting a tax audit. "I'm here to discuss Paige's academic progress with the principal. Kindly relocate yourself elsewhere."
He pushed off the doorframe, sauntering toward me with the confident swagger of someone who'd never faced actual consequences for his actions. "Oh, I don't think so, Blackstone. See, word around town is you're the mastermind behind all these disappearances. Makes perfect sense really, always knew you were a bad seed, just like your degenerate parents."
The casual insult about my parents sent anger flashing through my veins like lightning, my magic crackling beneath my skin in response. However, what truly caught my attention was his next comment, delivered with an unsettling gleam in his watery blue eyes.
"Heard you and that federal agent have been quite thorough in your magical analysis," he continued, watching my reaction carefully. "Fascinating how you seemed to know exactly what type of spells to look for. Almost like you had inside knowledge of the process."
I clenched my fists, willing myself not to give this wretched specimen the satisfaction of seeing me lose control. "You don't know the first thing about my parents or their character," I ground out through gritted teeth. "And if you possessed even a microscopic amount of intelligence, you'd realize that I would never harm those girls. Unlike certain families in this town, I actually have a functional moral compass."
Tommy barked out a harsh laugh that sounded like a seal having an existential crisis. "Moral compass? Please. Everyone knows you're just a walking disaster waiting for the right moment to explode. It's only a matter of time before the truth comes out and you're exposed as the dangerous creature you really are."
Cosmo's growl rumbled low in his throat, his hackles rising as he sensed my escalating irritation. I placed a calming hand on his head, silently urging restraint while part of me longed to let him loose on this particular pest.
"You know what, Tommy?" I said, my voice achieving that deceptively calm tone that usually preceded someone's world catching fire. "I have neither the time nor the patience for your petty posturing and evidence-free accusations. I have actual business to conduct and a goddaughter to collect. So why don't you scamper along and find some first-graders to intimidate? I'm sure they'd be much more impressed by your family connections and general air of unearned superiority."
Tommy's face flushed an alarming shade of puce, his eyes bulging slightly as he jabbed a finger in my direction. "You...you...witch! How dare you speak to me like that? Do you have any idea who I am? Who my father is?"
I arched a single, magnificently unimpressed eyebrow. "Oh, I'm perfectly aware of your pedigree, Tommy Bishop. You're the spoiled, entitled offspring of a power-hungry megalomaniac who believes his political position grants him the right to bully anyone he considers beneath his station. Which, from my observations, includes pretty much everyone with a functioning brain."
