Page 24 of Bewitched by the Wicked Witch (The Bewitching Hour #4)

Fifteen

Callum

I moved slowly, clutching my scalded crotch as the infatuation spell abruptly wore off, replaced by searing pain that shot through my entire body like lightning. Sage and Cate stood over me, momentarily united in their shared horror and disgust at the spectacle I was making.

"Oh my god, Callum! Are you okay?" Sage dropped to her knees beside me, hands hovering uncertainly as if she wanted to help but wasn't sure where it was safe to touch.

"Do I look okay?" I hissed through gritted teeth, fighting back a wave of nausea. "That woman just gave me third-degree burns on my most sensitive anatomy!"

Cate had the audacity to look offended rather than apologetic. "It's not my fault he can't handle his coffee properly! And I am NOT crazy, you overgrown man-child!"

"How fascinating," Sage said in her signature bone dry sarcasm, blue eyes glittering with dark amusement. "A triple dose of infatuation potion. I haven't seen someone this desperate for attention since my ancestor started collecting human skulls as garden decorations."

"At least the skulls had better conversational skills," Cosmo chimed in from his perch on Sage's shoulder, his beady black eyes fixed disdainfully on Cate.

"I was just trying to get his attention!" Cate wailed, stomping her foot like a petulant toddler having a tantrum. "You don't deserve anyone, you…you” she sputtered, “ wicked witch!"

"Oh yes, nothing says 'romance' like a felony," Cosmo observed dryly, preening one wing with obvious disdain. "Truly, your courtship techniques are inspired. Have you considered a career in chemical warfare?"

Sage arched an eyebrow and her voice turned deadpan. “How original.” Sage narrowed sharp blue eyes on Cate. "Drugging someone is such a charming courtship ritual." Sage tapped her chin continuing, "Very romantic. I'm sure serial killers everywhere are taking notes on your technique."

I groaned again, the sound drawing both women's attention back to my prone and pathetic form. "Ladies, as riveting as this discussion of modern dating practices is, I'm experiencing what I can only describe as genital apocalypse here. Perhaps we could prioritize medical intervention?"

Sage muttered a quick cooling charm under her breath, her magic flowing over me like ice water and immediately easing the worst of the burning sensation.

I sighed in profound relief, gingerly sitting up while trying to assess the damage.

The spilled liquid had soaked completely through the front of my jeans, leaving very little to the imagination about the extent of my predicament.

I noticed Cate's gaze drifting downward with what looked like speculative interest.

"I'd advise against any further visual inspection," I growled, cupping myself protectively while shooting her a withering glare.

"Using illegal magical enhancement spells is a punishable offense under High Council law.

More than enough to get this establishment shut down permanently and you fined a very substantial amount of money. "

"Apologize to him immediately, Cate," Sage commanded with the casual authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

"If you get my favorite coffee shop closed because of your little chemistry experiment, I'll demonstrate exactly how creative a black magic wielding witch can be when properly motivated.

I have such interesting ideas about poetic justice. "

Cate blanched at the threat, all the color draining from her face until she looked like a particularly unattractive ghost.

Despite the pain and humiliation of the situation, Sage's lips twitched with barely suppressed amusement at the complete absurdity of what had just transpired.

"You know, this is exactly the kind of morning entertainment I didn't know I was missing.

It's like dinner theater, but with more genital trauma. "

I couldn't help but laugh despite my continued discomfort, even as my injured parts throbbed in protest.

Cate glared at both of us with obvious fury, her lower lip trembling with indignation. "You two absolutely deserve each other," she spat venomously, spinning on her heel and storming toward the exit in a dramatic huff. "Complete freaks!"

She tore off her apron as she left the store, screaming loud enough for the entire street to hear that she was quitting for good this time and would never darken the doorway again.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way to unemployment, darling," Sage called after her retreating form with perfect timing. "Though I suppose that would be the least painful rejection you'll experience today."

She turned back to me with sparkling eyes, then looked around to make sure we had relative privacy before whispering a healing spell.

"I'd do it myself," I muttered through gritted teeth, "but my powers don't work that way."

Dark tendrils of magic shot through with sparkling stars flowed out from her fingers and surrounded my affected area. Almost immediately, the burning pain subsided to a manageable level, and my soaked jeans became completely dry.

"Well, that was delightfully chaotic," she said with a satisfied smirk. "You certainly know how to make morning coffee memorable, Renshaw."

I grimaced, reaching out to take her hand in mine, grateful for her quick thinking and magical intervention. "In my defense, I was completely under the influence of a very powerful potion. My judgment was chemically compromised."

"How unfortunate. I was hoping this was your natural personality emerging," Sage said with mock disappointment. " Seriously though, are you actually okay? No permanent damage to your future offspring prospects?"

"I think they'll live to see another day," I reassured her, gingerly adjusting myself one more time to make sure everything was in working order. "Thank you for the healing magic, but I may need some additional tender loving care to fully recuperate."

"What exactly have I walked in on here?" Brexley, Cindee's daughter, asked as she stared at the scene of destruction before her with wide, confused eyes.

"Your former employee decided to practice amateur love potion brewing," Sage announced with clinical detachment. "When I pointed out the illegality of her chemistry experiment, she had what I can only describe as a therapeutic tantrum and baptized him with scalding coffee."

Brexley's hands flew up to cover her mouth in horror. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I told Mom not to hire her in the first place. She's been fired from every single place of employment she's ever worked at."

"How shocking. Such a mystery why employers don't appreciate her innovative approach to customer service," Sage observed dryly.

When I turned back to face Sage, she was looking at me with an amused smirk playing around her beautiful full lips. "I knew something was seriously wrong when you practically fell into her chest like a starved Victorian gentleman who hadn't seen an ankle in decades."

"I absolutely did not," I protested, genuinely offended by the suggestion that I would be interested in anyone's attributes other than hers .

"You did. There was actual drooling involved," she teased, reaching up as if to wipe away imaginary saliva while her pale blue eyes sparkled with mischievous glee.

"It reminded me of that incident during our first year when Anita Hastings decided she absolutely had to make you hers and tried every love spell in the academy library. "

"But those spells didn't work then," I admitted with a grin as I helped clean up the surrounding area. "You were the only one who could do that."

After Brexley's profuse apologies and promises of free coffee, we spent the next hour settling into a productive rhythm, going over our investigative leads while nursing properly prepared beverages.

The conversation naturally turned to recent developments, and I brought up the growing number of complaints about Councilwoman Devon.

"What's particularly concerning is her dramatic rise to power," I explained. "Six months ago, she was processing magical permits in bureaucratic obscurity. Now she's pushing through controversial surveillance legislation with Reid Bishop's complete support."

"How delightfully suspicious," Sage mused, examining the documents with interest. "Nothing says 'trustworthy public servant' like sudden, inexplicable political advancement."

"You know, it's interesting," I continued, pieces beginning to connect in my mind.

"When the Council first recruited me, they mentioned that their methods had become 'much more persuasive' after certain Academy students had rejected their offers.

They seemed particularly bitter about someone who'd told them to 'go straight to hell' during their second year.

" I met her eyes meaningfully. "Sound familiar? "

Sage's expression darkened with understanding. "They told you about that?"

"Not directly, but they made it clear that your rejection had made things personal for them. That's when they started using threats instead of just incentives."

Both suspects had secured top spots on our list, but our session came to a natural end when Sage mentioned work obligations. However, just before we parted ways, Cosmo looked directly at me and spoke for the first time in four years.

"I'll expect those sticky buns the next time we see each other, peasant," he declared with feline dignity.

I laughed, nodding enthusiastically. Being called ‘peasant’ by Cosmo felt like a diplomatic breakthrough.

As I watched Sage and Cosmo depart, I felt genuine hope for the first time in years. Working with her again felt right in a way that few things had since I'd made the devastating choice to leave her.

I was just about to head back to the boarding house when a recognizable voice called out behind me.

"Agent Renshaw! What an interesting coincidence running into you here."

Tommy Bishop approached with his characteristic smile, though something in his eyes seemed sharper, more calculating. His timing felt far too convenient to be accidental.

"Tommy," I acknowledged carefully, noting how his gaze cataloged everything about the coffee shop's interior.

"Actually, I heard there was quite the dramatic commotion in here earlier," he said casually. "Something involving illegal spell use? With all these terrible disappearances happening lately, we simply can't be too careful about magical irregularities."

I studied his face, noting how his seemingly innocent questions felt loaded with hidden meaning. "Just a misunderstanding with an overzealous barista. Nothing that concerned the official investigation."

"Of course," Tommy said, his smile widening without reaching his eyes. "Though I've been quite impressed by how thoroughly you and Miss Blackstone have been investigating. Almost like you knew exactly what type of magic to look for."

The hair on my neck prickled. How would Tommy know about our investigative methods? "Just standard procedure."

"Naturally." His expression grew artificially somber. "Well, I won't keep you. Though if you ever need local insight, I'd be happy to help. I actually knew poor Beverly quite well. Sweet girl, always worked the late Thursday shifts at the diner. Very predictable in her routines."

My blood chilled. How did he know Beverly's schedule so specifically? And why mention her predictable routine when discussing targeted disappearances?

"Such a terrible shame about mixed-blood witches being targeted," he continued, watching my reaction. "Really makes you wonder who could have such detailed knowledge about their personal patterns."

Before I could respond, he was already walking away, leaving me with far more questions than answers and the disturbing feeling I'd just been warned, or threatened.