Page 45 of Bewitched by the Wicked Witch (The Bewitching Hour #4)

Twenty-Eight

Sage

A s the chaos of the town square finally died down and the last of the High Council investigators disappeared with their collection of evidence and amphibian prisoners, I found myself standing in the smoking ruins of what had been my carefully constructed life, feeling oddly philosophical about the whole situation.

"Well, that was refreshingly apocalyptic," I said, surveying the charred remains of my hut with the detached interest of someone whose day had officially exceeded all reasonable expectations. "Though I have to admit, being nearly barbecued by an angry mob wasn't on my Tuesday agenda."

Callum chuckled, slipping his arm around my waist as we picked our way through the debris. "I don't know. I thought you looked pretty hot up there on that pyre. Literally and figuratively."

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't suppress a smile at his terrible timing. "Flatterer. You just have a thing for women who've survived ritual execution attempts."

"Guilty as charged," he grinned, his eyes sparkling with the kind of inappropriate humor that suggested we were definitely made for each other. "But as much as I'd love to continue this post-traumatic flirtation, we should probably assess the damage to your domestic situation."

My heart sank slightly at the reminder of my poor, incinerated hut. It may have been a ramshackle little sanctuary, but it had been home for years, filled with carefully accumulated magical supplies and memories both bitter and sweet.

Cosmo padded through the ash with the careful precision of a cat who had strong opinions about getting his paws dirty. "At least that infernal buzzing sound from your bedroom finally stopped annoying my sensitive ears," he observed with feline satisfaction.

I felt heat rise in my cheeks as Callum's eyebrows rose with obvious interest. "Buzzing sound?" he asked with the tone of someone filing away information for future investigation.

"It's exactly what you think it is," I said with as much dignity as I could muster, "which is why we're not discussing my personal inventory in front of Cosmo."

"I have excellent hearing and absolutely no shame about eavesdropping," Cosmo added helpfully. "Also, I've been living with that particular soundtrack for months, so really, you're the one who should be embarrassed about the frequency."

Before I could formulate a suitably withering response to my traitorous familiar, I noticed something odd about the rubble pattern near where my kitchen used to be.

"There," I said, pointing to a depression in the debris. "The elevator should be right under there." We worked together to clear away the collapsed timber and stone, finally revealing the hidden door beneath. "The enchantments held through everything."

Callum let out a low whistle of appreciation as he joined me. "Impressive spell work. Your paranoid past self was clearly onto something."

"Paranoid and prepared are entirely different things," I replied with wounded dignity, pressing the hidden activation sequence. "Though given recent events, perhaps a little paranoia was entirely justified."

The elevator doors slid open with their familiar soft chime, revealing the pristine interior that had somehow survived both fire and magical investigation. As we descended into my secret underground sanctuary, I felt a renewed sense of stability wash over me.

"Home sweet underground home" I said, gesturing around the cozy subterranean space with its extensive bookshelves, computer equipment, and carefully organized magical supplies. "Less dramatically gothic than the surface hut, but considerably more fireproof."

Callum settled into my underground domain with familiar ease, his gaze sweeping over the comfortable reading nooks and well-stocked brewing station with the appreciation of someone who'd grown to understand the organized magical chaos that defined my living space.

"Still very you," he said with a smile that suggested this was entirely a compliment. "Practical, mysterious, and slightly concerning for anyone with claustrophobic tendencies."

"I prefer 'efficiently designed for optimal privacy,'" I corrected, settling into my favorite reading chair and finally allowing the exhaustion of our recent adventures to catch up with me.

"Though we should probably discuss what happens next, assuming we survive whatever revelations are about to unfold. "

The weight of unfinished business settled between us like an unwelcome but necessary guest. Callum took the chair across from me, his expression growing serious as he prepared to address the elephant in the room—or in this case, the five years of abandonment that we'd been carefully dancing around.

"I need to tell you why I really left," he said quietly, running his hands through his hair in the gesture I remembered from our youth. "Not the sanitized version I gave you before, but the complete, unvarnished truth."

I settled back in my chair, bracing myself for whatever revelation was coming. "I'm listening. And I should probably mention that if this explanation involves more noble self-sacrifice, I'm upgrading your curse to something truly creative."

He managed a weak smile at that. "Fair warning noted. The High Council didn't just recruit me, Sage. They threatened you. Said they had enough evidence of unlicensed magical practice to put you through a Trial of Fire if I didn't cooperate."

The words hit me like ice water, though I managed to keep my expression neutral. "A Trial of Fire," I repeated slowly, "is execution disguised as legal procedure. "

"They would have burned you alive, marked you as a dangerous rogue practitioner, and used your death as an example to others," he confirmed, his voice thick with old fury. "I told them you weren't a threat, that you'd never hurt anyone who didn't richly deserve it. They didn't care."

I processed this information with the same calm I'd cultivated during years of being Old Hollows' designated scapegoat. "So you accepted their job to protect me from bureaucratic mutilation."

"I told them I'd monitor you, report on your activities, keep you contained if necessary," he said, self-loathing clear in every word. "But I stayed away completely - didn't even dare check on you though I wanted to so many times. I was terrified that any contact might put you in more danger."

"And you never considered discussing this with me?" I asked with deceptive mildness that would have warned anyone familiar with my temperament.

"I was twenty-two and terrified," he admitted. "I thought I was being heroically self-sacrificing. It never occurred to me that I was making life-altering decisions about your future without consulting you."

I considered this revelation, turning it over in my mind like a puzzle piece that finally explained years of confusion and hurt. "You know what the truly irritating part is?" I said finally.

"What?"

"I would have gone with you," I said simply. "If you'd trusted me enough to explain the situation, I would have left Old Hollows. We could have figured it out together, possibly while causing considerable chaos for the High Council in the process."

The pain that crossed his face was almost enough to make me regret my honesty. Almost.

"I know that now," he whispered. "I've been questioning my choices for five years, but I didn't realize what a monumental idiot I'd been until I came back to town and figured out you were the one who cursed me with magical erectile dysfunction.

At that point, I figured that particular ship had sailed. "

Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch with dark amusement. "To be fair, that was rather inspired revenge magic. Very creative problem-solving under emotional duress."

"It was diabolical," he agreed with grudging admiration. "Though I have to ask, was the anatomical enhancement really necessary? The fainting was embarrassing enough without the additional... complications."

"I was twenty-two and heartbroken," I reminded him. "Proportional response wasn't exactly my priority. Besides, I designed it to wear off once we were both over each other."

"Which explains why it lasted five years," he said ruefully.

"Which explains why it lasted five years," I agreed with dark satisfaction.

The comfortable silence that followed was broken by his next revelation, delivered with the careful tone of someone approaching dangerous territory.

"There's something else," he said. "About your parents. "

I stiffened, sensing that whatever was coming would confirm my worst fears. "What about them?"

"You were right to suspect their deaths weren't accidental. They were investigating the Pure Blood Society for the High Council. Someone killed them to stop their research."

The words seemed to echo in the quiet space, each syllable hitting me like a physical blow. I felt something cold and dangerous unfurl in my chest, the same darkness that had manifested during our underground confrontation.

"I figured that out too." I stood abruptly, pacing to the far end of the room as I processed this information. My parents hadn't died in some random tragedy; they'd been murdered for trying to expose the same conspiracy we'd just dismantled.

"Tommy likes to gloat. How did you find out?"

"Your grandmother. She kept it from you to protect you. If you'd known they were murdered, you would have tried to investigate. The same people who killed them would have come for you."

I couldn't unpack that right now. "Tommy mentioned his great-uncle Ezra handled the problem personally," I said quietly, my voice carrying the kind of controlled fury that usually preceded expensive property damage. "He was gloating about it during his villain monologue."

"The investigation will look into historical cases," Callum promised. "If there's evidence to find, we'll find it."

I turned back to face him, and I knew he could see the decision crystallizing in my expression. "I want to be involved in that investigation. Officially."

"Sage—"