Page 35 of Bewitched by the Wicked Witch (The Bewitching Hour #4)
With a final dramatic flourish, I sent a bolt of purple lightning arcing toward Tommy's feet. It struck the ground directly in front of him, leaving a smoking, blackened crater while he screamed in terror. The door to my hut slammed shut with supernatural force, cutting off his view.
However, horror washed over me as the scent of actual burning wood reached my senses, pulling me abruptly out of the spell's trance.
I found myself back in my underground sanctuary with Paige and Cosmo, rushing to the monitors to witness each townsperson taking Tommy's encouragement to heart, throwing their torches onto my small wooden hut with vengeful enthusiasm.
"Perhaps I went slightly too far with the badass witch performance," I admitted, watching my home transform into a bonfire.
"You think?" Paige whirled on me, hands planted firmly on her hips. "We need to escape immediately. They've locked up Callum, and we need to get him out before things get worse."
"What do you mean they locked him up?"
Terror struck me as I processed what they might have done to him, or accused him of, simply because he'd believed in my innocence from the beginning. I'd abandoned him there to face their wrath alone while I’d made my dramatic exit.
Guilt settled in my stomach like a lead weight, cold and unforgiving.
I stared at the monitors in growing horror as flames consumed the wooden walls of my beloved sanctuary.
Years of carefully curated spell books, rare potion ingredients, and enchanted artifacts, all going up in smoke because of some small-minded, pitchfork-wielding mob with too much time and too little sense.
Though to be fair, most of the items upstairs were decoys. Still, I kicked myself for moving a few personal items upstairs in my recent effort to make the space seem more lived-in—nothing irreplaceable like my rare ingredients, but things I'd rather not lose to curious investigators.
"Well, there go my college textbooks and Aunt Helga's supposedly powerful spell collection," I muttered darkly. "And my limited edition Hex Girls concert poster. Those artifacts were absolutely irreplaceable!"
"Aunt Helga was a magical disappointment who couldn't enchant her way out of a paper bag," Cosmo added with a dismissive growl, his tail flicking with agitation.
"I wouldn't mourn those particular losses too extensively, poppet.
As for the Hex Girls memorabilia, that was an absolutely horrific period for me.
It's precisely why your music kept mysteriously disappearing.
" He shuddered as if recalling traumatic memories of me dancing around singing at maximum volume.
Paige grabbed my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh with desperate urgency. "Forget about your questionable taste in magical girl bands, Sage! We need to evacuate before the smoke suffocates us or the entire structure collapses!"
"The hut will burn completely and collapse dramatically, but it won't damage the underground sections," I murmured, rubbing my chin thoughtfully as flames continued consuming my decoy home while the mob cheered their apparent victory.
"However, they'll discover the elevator entrance soon enough if they conduct a thorough search. "
The irony wasn't lost on me that our own kind could be just as bloodthirsty as historical witch hunters. After everything we'd endured to avoid persecution, here they were, ready to burn one of their own based on speculation and prejudice. Though honestly, I really had liked that poster.
"Earth to Sage, this is genuinely serious!" Paige interrupted my reflections, grasping my arm with increased intensity.
I shook off her grip, forcing my mind to focus on immediate survival rather than material losses.
"You're absolutely right. Okay, let's not panic unnecessarily.
We can handle this." I turned to Cosmo, who was lounging on my favorite armchair with infuriating nonchalance, grooming his paw as if we weren't in serious danger.
"Alright, Cosmo. You mentioned something about a secret escape tunnel? "
Cosmo blinked slowly, his starry eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, did I mention that? It must have slipped my mind, what with all the excitement of angry mobs and impromptu fashion shows."
I growled, resisting the urge to zap him with a mildly unpleasant hex. "Cut the attitude, cat. Lives could supposedly be at stake here, including your own pampered existence. Now provide details before I transform you into a pair of fashionable winter mittens."
The feline familiar heaved an exaggerated sigh, stretching languidly before hopping down from his perch. "Very well, if you absolutely insist. Follow me, ladies. And do attempt to keep up, I'd hate for you to become lost in the labyrinthine depths of Sage's carefully planned paranoia."
He sauntered toward the back of the room with his characteristic arrogance, tail swishing with smug satisfaction. Paige and I exchanged wary glances before hurrying after him, the sounds of the mob's celebration and crackling flames fading behind us.
Cosmo led us to an unremarkable section of wall, indistinguishable from the rest of the rough-hewn stone construction. With a casual flick of his tail, he activated a hidden mechanism, and the wall swung inward to reveal a narrow, dimly lit passageway that disappeared into darkness.
"Ta-da!" he declared, his voice echoing in the dank tunnel. "One escape route, exactly as promised. I trust you'll remember this invaluable service the next time you're distributing gourmet treats, hmm?"
I rolled my eyes while pushing past him into the musty darkness. "Yes, yes, you're a regular feline hero deserving of commemorative statues. Let's just move before the mob decides to roast marshmallows over my smoldering remains."
Paige followed close behind, her breathing shallow and rapid as we navigated the tunnel and stepped into complete darkness, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
As we moved through the narrow stone corridor, my mind raced beyond our immediate danger.
The mob's accusations, Tommy's knowing confidence, the way he'd appeared precisely when Callum and I were getting close to uncovering the truth, it all felt orchestrated, like pieces of a larger puzzle finally clicking into place.
"Paige," I said, my voice echoing off the ancient stone walls, "when you said they arrested Callum, what exactly transpired?"
"Tommy convinced them he was collaborating with you," she replied, breathing heavily and occasionally stumbling in the darkness. "Claimed the investigator was showing personal favoritism that suggested magical compromise. They arrested him on conspiracy charges."
My blood ran cold with a mixture of rage and fear. "That calculating bastard. He's systematically isolating me, removing my only ally and support system." I paused as a terrible realization began forming in my mind. "Paige, what do you actually know about my parents' accident?"
She faltered, nearly colliding with my back. "Your parents? Sage, this really isn't the appropriate time?—"
"It's exactly the right time," I interrupted, spinning to face her in the tunnel's dim lighting.
"Tommy isn't randomly targeting mixed-blood girls.
He demonstrated specific knowledge about Beverly's schedule, and about our investigation methods and findings.
What if this conspiracy reaches back much farther than we initially suspected? "
"What are you suggesting?"
"What if my parents didn't die in a convenient accident?" The words hung heavy in the stale air like an accusation waiting for judgment. "What if they were investigating something eighteen years ago, and someone murdered them to prevent discovery?"
Paige's eyes widened with shock and growing understanding. "That's an incredibly serious accusation, Sage."
"Consider the evidence logically. My parents were respected researchers and advisors to the council.
They would have been among the first to notice if something was fundamentally wrong in our community.
And then suddenly, they died in a perfectly timed car accident just before I turned eight years old. "
Cosmo's voice drifted back from ahead of us in the tunnel. "You're not wrong to be suspicious. I remember your father asking very pointed, uncomfortable questions about certain founding families in the weeks before his death. Questions that made influential people notably nervous."
I stopped walking entirely, staring at my familiar's shadowy form. "You remember those conversations? You never told me about any of this!"
"You never asked the appropriate questions," he replied with typical feline logic. "But yes, Dr. Blackstone was investigating historical disappearances, looking for patterns that connected past and present. Sound familiar?"
My heart hammered against my ribs as the implications crystallized.
"We need to reach Callum immediately. If I'm correct, if my parents were killed for getting too close to the truth, then Tommy has been planning this persecution for years.
And now he's trying to complete what his family started decades ago. "
"His family?" Paige whispered with dawning horror.
"The Bishops," I said grimly, the pieces falling into place with terrible clarity.
"Tommy, Reid, possibly others in their extended network.
What if the Pure Blood Society wasn't just some historical organization that faded into obscurity?
What if it never really disappeared; it just went underground? "
The tunnel suddenly felt claustrophobic, eighteen years of carefully maintained lies pressing down on us like burial earth.
We had to reach Callum. He was the only person who could help me prove what I was beginning to suspect: that my parents' murder and the current disappearances were all part of the same twisted legacy of hatred and power.
And Reid Bishop was orchestrating it all from the shadows, using his son Tommy as a pawn .
"Come on," I urged, pushing forward with renewed determination and barely controlled fury. "We're getting Callum out of whatever hole they've thrown him in, and then we're going to uncover the complete truth. All of it."
The time for hiding and playing defense was over. Now it was time to hunt.