Page 53 of Season of the Witch (Toil and Trouble #3)

Something Tia reminded herself to do as the High witch settled on a worn bar stool.

“It’s nice.” Isabella folded her hands in her lap as she crossed her legs. Her shoes matched her coat and were gorgeous peep-toes. “I like the colors,” she added. “What would you recommend to drink?”

“Ah…” This was surreal, like two worlds crashing into one. Not to mention, the last time she’d seen Isabella had been in England—when she’d let slip a secret that had, in many ways, been the first domino.

But that hadn’t been the High daughter’s fault. And they had been making moves to be friends…

Tia cut the shit. “Isabella,” she said, leaning on her elbows, ignoring the slight stickiness their temp staff hadn’t wiped yet. “What’re you doing here?”

“Chicago?” Isabella shrugged as a roar of laughter sounded from one of the groups. “Who knows? Maybe an art show, a jewelry heist, a little murderous mayhem. Followed by a baseball game. I do love those tight little uniforms.”

“Baseball season finished months ago.”

“Another sporting event, then.”

“I meant this bar. Any bar.”

“I can’t go to bars?”

“You’re wearing white.”

Isabella looked down. “So?”

“It won’t be that color when you leave.”

She looked unconcerned. “I’m expanding my horizons and catching up with a friend.” She smiled brightly. “What do you recommend?”

Tia briefly met Bianca’s dark stare but gave up. It wasn’t like Isabella shouldn’t come to a bar just because she was, in their society, royal of sorts.

“We’ve got some gingerbread gin that’ll spice up any tonic.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Tia busied herself getting a glass. “Rocks?”

“Please.”

They didn’t speak again until Isabella took a tentative sip. Surprise was chased by pleasure. “It’s good. I like the kick.”

“Uh-huh. Why’re you here, Isabella?”

Isabella lost some of the Southern belle sugar and something real came and went in her eyes. “I heard about what happened. Your parentage and…with Henry.”

Tia didn’t doubt it; intelligence probably whispered in Isabella’s ear, even when she was sleeping. She firmed her jaw. “So?”

“So…” Isabella looked a bit lost, hand curling around the glass. “I wanted to make sure that you weren’t too distressed.” Obviously new to the witch.

Because of that, Tia didn’t lash out. “I’m fine.”

Isabella’s look called her a liar. “And Henry?”

“Nothing.” Tia’s lips curled up without humor. “Just like I thought.”

Life at the bar continued around them, men laughing and women flirting, drinks being toasted and tapped together. But in their bubble, neither Tia nor Isabella moved.

Isabella’s glass made a ringing sound as she traced its rim. “Are you sure—?”

Tia focused on the package on the counter to hide the prickling behind her eyes. “I don’t know why I thought things might be different this time,” she said, hating the wobble in the words. She fiddled with the tissue paper. “I don’t even know if I want them to be. He lied. He—”

She stopped. For no reason, her heart began to hammer against her ribs, fast and heady, as she lifted the small cat figurine from its box. It was made from fine glass, the quality sparkling as she turned it over in her hands.

“What?” she murmured, the next second fumbling to catch the ornament as a spark whipped up from the tissue. And then another, and another.

Isabella’s hand came up, wrist turning twice clockwise. A shimmering veil settled into place, hiding more and more sparks—embers, Tia realized with a flipping sensation in her stomach—until, with a flash, a piece of paper exploded into existence.

Smoke notes. Someone had written a note, ripped it up and burned it to reassemble the other side.

She knew only one warlock that talented with fire.

She ignored the quiver in her hands as she grasped the waiting note, unfolding it so the lines of text shimmered up from the paper.

Tia. You gave me your memories so now I’ll give you mine, right from the beginning.

I was pissed about that damn cat for about two seconds until I looked into eyes I knew would be my forever. I wasn’t ready for what I felt. I didn’t deserve it. And I never lost it.

I lied because I needed to know where we broke down, how to fix it.

But I also lied because I was scared. Scared you’d push me away when we were getting close, scared you wouldn’t give me another chance if you knew I was still the clueless man who made you feel inferior.

And each day that passed, it was easy to justify how I needed more time.

It was easier to lie than be vulnerable.

I think you know what that’s like. And I’m sorry.

I was an idiot to let you walk away last time. This time, I’m not going quietly. This time, I’m going to show up for you. Again and again, I’m going to show up for the most important person in my life.

Because fighting with you is better than peace with anyone else.

Tia let the note drift to the counter. She felt weightless, adrift, unsure . Henry had made a move.

He’d done something.

She watched hands that didn’t feel like hers lift the glass cat again. Now she looked at it, it resembled the rose she’d kept hidden, glass only a fire warlock could create. She thought about how long it must have taken to carve the lines, the details of the cat’s features.

Her heart shivered.

Isabella, after blatantly reading the note without any thought to privacy, pressed her lips together. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Tia blinked. “I…”

A wave of panic almost tugged her under and her hand instinctively tightened on the cat. She forced herself to let go before she broke it. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not?” Isabella looked skeptical as she tapped the note. “He’s fighting for you.”

“With words.” Tia put a hand to her head to try to stop it swirling.

“You thought his father would dissuade him. That clearly isn’t the case.”

“It’s easy to say things.” Tia wanted to believe; fuck, did she want to believe. Even now, it took everything not to reread the note, not to hoard it like the treasure it was. “He’s always been good at promises.”

Isabella’s expression turned understanding. “But not follow-through.”

Tia bit her lip, trying to steady herself. “I just… I need some time.” Time to decide if this, he, was serious or if it was just another move in their chess game. One that neither of them ever seemed to win.

Isabella lifted her glass, contemplating the liquid inside. “You need to see if he’s serious,” she murmured.

Tia nodded. It was strange but she knew Isabella got it. She had the same guards Tia did.

Sure enough, Isabella nodded back, sipping her drink. And hummed.