Page 29 of Bewitched by the Wicked Witch (The Bewitching Hour #4)

Nineteen

Sage

I strode 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 arms crossed, 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. "

A vein began throbbing in Tommy's temple with the persistence of a broken metronome, his fists clenching and unclenching as he clearly debated whether physical violence was worth the potential consequences.

Part of me almost hoped he'd make that particular mistake.

Before he could escalate further, however, a sharp, authoritative voice cut through our increasingly hostile exchange like a sword through silk.

"Mr. Bishop! Miss Blackstone! What exactly is transpiring on my school grounds?"

We both turned to see Principal Weatherby approaching with the swift, decisive stride of someone accustomed to managing chaos.

She was a formidable woman with steel-gray hair pulled into a severe bun and the kind of no-nonsense expression that made even the most rebellious teenagers reconsider their life choices.

Tommy's demeanor shifted instantly from menacing to obsequious, his smile becoming so sickeningly sweet it could have caused diabetes.

"Principal Weatherby!" he exclaimed with false cheer that fooled absolutely no one.

"I was simply engaging Miss Blackstone in friendly conversation, welcoming her to our fine educational establishment. "

Principal Weatherby's hawk-like gaze flicked between us with the sharp assessment of someone who'd seen every variety of adolescent deception.

"Is that so?" she asked, her tone suggesting she'd rather believe in fairy tales.

"Because from my vantage point, it appeared more like harassment and intimidation. "

Tommy sputtered indignantly, his face achieving new and interesting shades of red. "I would never engage in such behavior! Principal Weatherby, surely you know my character better than that. I'm simply concerned about the safety and well-being of our student body, given the recent tragic events."

I snorted with delicate disdain. "Oh please, spare us the concerned citizen performance, Tommy.

We all know you're simply using these disappearances as an excuse to spread your family's pureblood propaganda and generate hysteria against anyone who doesn't conform to your narrow definition of acceptable society. "

Principal Weatherby raised her hand, silencing Tommy's indignant squawk before it could gain momentum.

"That's quite sufficient, both of you. Mr. Bishop, I suggest you find somewhere else to loiter before I decide to have a conversation with your father about your habit of haunting school grounds.

Miss Blackstone..." She turned to me, her expression softening almost imperceptibly.

"I believe you have legitimate business here? "

I nodded, shooting Tommy a triumphant look as he slunk away with wounded dignity. "Yes, thank you, Principal Weatherby. I was hoping to discuss several matters with you, particularly given the current atmosphere of suspicion and fear. "

She gestured for me to follow her inside, and we navigated the bustling hallways while dodging energetic students and harried teachers.

I couldn't help but notice the looks of unease and suspicion that followed me like hungry shadows.

Whispers and furtive glances marked my passage, the tension in the air thick enough to require a machete.

Principal Weatherby ushered me into her office, closing the door firmly and offering me a seat in one of the leather chairs facing her imposing oak desk. She settled behind it with the practiced ease of someone who'd spent decades managing controlled chaos.

"Now, Miss Blackstone," she began, her voice crisp and businesslike, "before we discuss Paige's academic standing, I feel compelled to address the rather large elephant currently trampling through our conversation.

These disappearances have everyone on edge, and I'm afraid your reputation has made you a convenient target for fear-mongering and baseless accusations.

Unfortunately, this has created additional challenges for Paige as well. "

I sighed, running a hand through my unruly curls.

"Believe me, Principal Weatherby, I'm painfully aware of my status as Old Hollows' designated scapegoat.

But I assure you, I had nothing to do with those girls vanishing.

I want to find them and bring them home safely just as much as anyone else.

In fact, that's precisely why I'm here, I'm assisting with the investigation.

Have you noticed any suspicious activity or behavior that might be relevant? "

Principal Weatherby leaned back, a thoughtful frown creasing her features.

"I want to believe you, Miss Blackstone.

Truly. But you must understand the impossible position I'm in.

Parents are terrified, the council is applying pressure from every direction, and the students.

.." She paused, a haunted expression flickering across her stern features.

"The students are living in a state of constant fear," she continued heavily.

"I've never witnessed anything quite like it.

The girls, particularly those with mixed magical heritage, cluster together in hallways like frightened animals, jumping at shadows and speaking in whispers.

Some families have stopped sending their children to school altogether, too afraid to let them leave their sight. "