Page 43 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
"Cosmo!" I turned toward him with horror as he stared at me with those unique eyes full of stars and shadow magic. "Why must you broadcast my private business like you're running a gossip column? You're supposed to be my familiar, and familiars are supposed to have their witch's back!"
"Who says I don't have your back? But that enchanted comfort pillow that bears a suspicious resemblance to a certain warlock does you absolutely no good when you have access to the genuine article," he finished with a satisfied mewl as I sent a warning sparkof magic in his direction, careful to ensure it didn't actually touch him. "And don't think I didn't notice it was modeled after that photograph you keep hidden under your mattress!"
"Enough, Cosmo," I growled, my cheeks burning redder than the autumn leaves scattered around us. Because yes, during lonely nights I had indeed enchanted a pillow to look, feel, and smell exactly like Callum. Complete with his perfect jawline, those devastating dimples, and that insufferably attractive smirk that made my knees betray me.
Goddess help me, I'd never given myself a genuine chance to get over him.
Cosmo hissed with feline indignation, then fixed me with narrowed eyes that glittered dangerously. "As you wish, your majesty," he purred in a saccharine voice that dripped with sarcasm before turning and stalking away with wounded dignity, disappearing into the woods with his tail held high like a banner of righteous anger.
"Sage, you just growled at him!" Paige stared at me with genuine disbelief and disappointment.
"He had it coming, and the growl didn't hurt him. It didn't even make contact. It was merely a warning shot," I defended myself, though the justification sounded weak even to my own ears.
"Exactly!" Paige looked at me with something approaching horror. "You growled your familiar over embarrassment. I think I can find my way to Gran's from here." She turned and stalked off, her boots creating angry echoes against the pavement.
"I didn't hurt him! I'm just tired of him broadcasting details about that stupid..." I trailed off, staringat Paige's retreating figure, and released a heavy sigh of defeat. My shoulders drooped as the full weight of what I'd just done settled over me like a heavy blanket.
Standing alone on the street, with both my familiar and my cousin having abandoned me in disgust, I couldn't help but think that maybe everyone was right about me being the villain after all.
Twenty
Callum
After my encounter with the council and their thinly veiled threats, I found myself needing the comfort of Sage's sharp wit and analytical mind. The Samhain festival seemed like the perfect cover for a clandestine meeting; nothing quite like discussing murder investigations while surrounded by people celebrating death and magic.
The crisp autumn air carried the scent of cinnamon and wood smoke as I navigated through the bustling festival crowds. Townsfolk mingled among colorful stalls, their faces aglow with flickering jack-o'-lanterns and strings of enchanted fairy lights that cast everything in an eerie glow. Children darted past in elaborate costumes, their laughter providing a strange counterpoint to the very real darkness we were investigating.
I scanned the crowd, searching for familiar raven curls while mentally rehearsing how to tell Sage that her town's leadership was even more corrupt than we'd suspected.We'd agreed to meet here to compare notes and strategize our next moves, though given my council interrogations, I suspected our options were becoming increasingly limited.
Just as I was beginning to worry that she'd decided the whole enterprise was too dangerous, a flash of black caught my eye. I turned, feeling my mood lighten considerably as Sage emerged from the throng like a gothic goddess, resplendent in a form-fitting black dress that hugged her curves with architectural precision. Her hair tumbled loose around her shoulders in a way that suggested both elegance and restless chaos.
"Sorry I'm late," she called out as she approached, her eyes sparkling with characteristic mischief. "Had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction involving enchanted corsets and experimental potion brewing. Apparently they don't play well together."
I arched an eyebrow, my imagination immediately supplying several fascinating scenarios. "Do I want to know the details, or should I preserve my sanity?"
She smirked, linking her arm through mine with the casual intimacy that still made my heart skip beats. "Probably best to leave it to your imagination. Let's just say being the town's designated villain has unexpected advantages when it comes to last-minute costume alterations."
Only Sage could make a potential magical disaster sound like a fashion triumph. We began weaving our way through the festival, and I used the cover of ambient noise to fill her in on my delightful council interrogations.
"I'm telling you, Sage, they were hiding something significant," I said, lowering my voice as we passed a group of gossiping witches. "Especially Councilwoman Devon.The way she looked at me; it was like she was trying to perform unauthorized brain surgery with her eyes."
Sage nodded thoughtfully, her expression shifting to something more serious. "I've never trusted that woman. She's always given me the distinct impression of someone who views mixed-blood witches as an unfortunate pest control problem. Her ties to the old pureblood families make her particularly dangerous."
"Exactly," I agreed, pausing as we reached a booth selling hot cider. The elderly vendor's face immediately soured when she noticed Sage, and she made a show of spitting to the side while muttering something about not serving ‘dark magic practitioners.’
I handed over coins for two drinks with perhaps more force than necessary, meeting the woman's hostile glare with my best federal agent stare. "Keep the change," I said coldly, "you'll need it for the charm school tuition."
As we moved away from the booth, I leaned closer to Sage. "Are you alright with this constant hostility?"
"Why wouldn't I be perfectly fine?" she asked with a shrug that didn't quite hide the tension in her shoulders. "Nothing unusual about being treated like a walking plague by my neighbors. Just another delightful Tuesday in Old Hollows."
I let out a long breath, filing this conversation away for later when we had more privacy and fewer potential witnesses. "So, based on my council meetings, Councilwoman Devon definitely deserves a prominent position on our suspect list."
"Speaking of suspects," Sage said, fixing me with a penetrating look that made me suddenly nervous, "Aren't you concerned that I might actually be guilty? That perhaps everyone's suspicions about the local dark witch have some merit?"
The vulnerability that flickered across her features hit me like a physical blow. "That you are some dark magic practitioner bent on terrorizing teenagers?" I shook my head firmly. "Absolutely not. You're still the woman I fell in love with all those years ago, and you don't have a genuinely evil bone in your entire body. I didn't believe their prejudiced nonsense for a second."
She relaxed slightly, a faint smile tugging at her mouth, one of those rare, genuine expressions I used to earn so easily during our school days. It pulled me back to those early memories, when her smiles had been precious commodities that took patience and persistence to achieve. She'd never quite believed I could choose her over social expectations or family pressure. And I knew I'd shattered something fundamental in her the day I had walked away to accept the High Council position, convinced I was protecting her.
