Page 20

I needed to focus on the showcase about to commence, yet my thoughts continued to wander back to the night I spent with Milo at his place, in his bedroom, where he sorted visions in my inner core while sharing the plans about how he intended on defeating the Celestial Coven, protecting the city, and preventing the escape of Theodore Whitlock.

“You’re sure Theodore is her objective?” I asked with a shiver, nearly pulled out of my inner core.

“Yep.” Milo continued tinkering with unruly visions. “But there are no worries. I’ve got it all covered.”

“How do you know—”

“Because I’m The Inevitable Future,” Milo interjected, playfully shimmying past me and bumping his hip against mine.

“How do you know Amara, The True Witch, whatever is after Theodore?” I swallowed hard, afraid of the response that loomed in Milo’s thoughts. I could feel the words, the answer, the hesitation as he attempted to hide it. “Just tell me.”

“It’s the message the chimera passed along for Theodore.” Milo grimaced, an awkward expression meant to convey how he didn’t blame me.

Not that he needed to because I blamed myself. That goddamn Doppler. He ruined everything in my life that he touched. I hated him. He’d interfered, he’d altered futures, he’d manipulated so much… And then there was that chimera, craving to become a perfect devil. Those two ruined my life with every second they fought to exist.

I couldn’t believe the chimera, who was dead and gone, still managed to haunt me with his actions. “One letter caused this?”

Milo gestured with his arms, weighing imaginary factors in his hands. “One letter set this in motion. A message Theodore had likely been attempting to send since the day he ended up incarcerated.”

“And I helped him.”

“Your manifesta—” Milo bit back the word, realizing the extra intricate layers to my magic we’d recently unraveled. “Your evil-ish persona. Well… Not evil, evil. Like neutral evil, lawful evil? Hmmm. I’ll put a pin in that for later. Basically, your persona guy helped. Unintentionally. A smidge. The teensiest trickle. To something that Theodore would’ve likely maybe possibly kind of accomplished even if he hadn’t crossed paths with the chimera.”

Milo lied. Badly. He’d prevented every potential of Theodore seeking aid from outside the MDC the day he’d locked that warlock away, the thoughts poorly hid behind cheesy lyrics to some of Milo’s favorite songs.

But the chimera had required Theodore’s assistance to escape from the Doppler’s grasp and the confinement of the MDC himself. All he had to do was pass along a single message for Theodore in exchange. I ground my teeth. Of course something as innocuous as sending a letter would bring about utter devastation. It was Theodore Whitlock.

“Get out of your own head.” Milo squeezed me into a tight hug, drawing me from my thoughts and the inner core of my mind, and back to the bed where we rested together semi-awake after screwing.

Milo had literally kicked me out of my own mind. Sort of. Despite the amusement I carried for that, I dwelled on the horrors my magic had inadvertently brought about. Sure, the Doppler was the worst of me, but he was still me. Some tiny piece of my faults all stacked together.

“How does Theodore even know The True Witch?” I asked. “The Celestial Coven?”

“No idea.” Milo shrugged. “My guess is it’s like the Make-A-Wish Foundation but for serial killers.”

I struggled against his embrace, annoyed and anxious and feeling completely unworthy of any affection.

“Everything will work out.” Milo was unrelenting in his hold and still whispering secrets about his plan inside my inner core. “ Theodore won’t have access to his branch. I’ve got guilds that’ll clear every ounce of demonic energy in a ten-mile radius when the day comes. I’ve got enough enchanters, Global Guild forces, and coven mates of the highest caliber. Seriously, Gladiatrix could probably drop every baddie single-handedly. But I don’t wanna gamble any losses, so we’re moving in as a small army. ”

“ How can you predict what Theodore will do? What any of the inmates will do? ” I recalled how the dampeners of the MDC blocked Milo’s clairvoyant insight, which proved to be a double-edged sword. The warding prevented those incarcerated from using their own magics, but it also cloaked them from magics outside the facility. “ Have you considered reaching out to the MDC? Moving Theodore? ”

“Wow. That never occurred to me, especially with how the wheels of bureaucracy move super quickly.” Milo rolled his eyes so dramatically, I almost confused it for an intense vision. “Pretty sure if I file a petition with the state, they’ll set up an emergency meeting within six to eight weeks. I’ll express the urgency, and they’ll reject my proposal. I’ll get an email about an option to appeal. They’ll respond to my appeal three to four months later, probably with a rejection.”

I scowled. “Guessing you’ve been down this route before?”

“Lemme tell you how the state rejected my proposal about reinforcing the standard demonic energy repulsion enchantments across the city. The inquiry I made to help facilitate events during the Night of the Fiend Massacre.” Milo made a face, this dumbfounded, unamused expression. “They sent me the rejection letter six months after the incident. The incident where I’d already saved Chicago from the fiend massacre. Well, not me personally. Obviously, I worked with a lotta amazing witches. But I mean, I was the one who organized the entire thing. Juggling hundreds of variables. Basically, cementing myself as a truly badass bitch.”

“And so humble,” I teased.

“I can be humble.” Milo nibbled on my ear, rousing me from my sleep as he finished sorting visions, finished revealing his plan, finished resting up from round one and craving more of me. “Maybe you can give me some humble pie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

Milo ran his fingers down the sides of my torso, delicate and teasing, then squeezed my butt with a firm grip. “Well, how about some humble cake.”

I glowered. “ You just told me about how you’re planning on fighting a group of warlock extremists— ”

“Witches,” Milo clarified because, of course, the Celestial Coven would only be deemed warlocks once convicted of a crime.

“Whatever.” I huffed. “ You’re putting together a precarious mission to infiltrate the Metropolitan Detainment Center filled with thousands of incarcerated witches and warlocks to stop a coven bold enough to attempt such a thing so they can free a psychopath…and you think I’m aroused? ”

“I mean, my cake-eating can get you there.” Milo made a goofy grin, ignoring the weight of the world that lay before him, the mission that held so many variables. “ Look, the Celestial Coven has four pillars. The True Witch and three others who I’m mostly prepared for. As for Theodore Whitlock…I would sooner die than allow the shadows of his ominous presence to ever loom over Chicago or anywhere bright and beautiful in this world. ”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” My eyes watered, turning Milo’s minxy expression blurry.

“You know what might make me feel better?” Milo blinked, making a sappy, pleading face as he pouted his lips. “ Since I’m basically going into war and all that… ”

“I swear to Christ, if you say cake!”

Milo nuzzled the crook between my neck and shoulder, burying his face in my skin. “You’ve got such a good cake, though.”

I smiled a bit as the memory fizzled away, and I found myself drawn back to the stress of the present, wishing I could linger in that memory forever, wishing I could skip past the fear I had for Milo’s current mission, wishing I had more to offer him than my quiet support while here at the academy showcase.

Straightening my posture, I tied my hair back into a messy half-up bun, and I did my best to focus on the opening ceremony taking place in the auxiliary gym. It’d taken nearly the entire morning since Headmaster Dower insisted on the formality of traditional introductions. It boiled down to a cotillion-esque charade where each student was announced and then had their magic, accolades, and rankings listed. She wanted to introduce every single second-year student, all 599 of them. I yawned and attempted to focus since the headmaster had finally reached my homeroom, starting the introductions with their coven formation first.

I rolled my eyes when Ben Dover’s Coven was announced. Despite the contempt I held for that damn name, the hilarity of it conjured bubbling laughter from the audience. So much so that the joyful emotions radiated in waves that rocked against the shores of my anxiety, washing away my fear like it was nothing more than a sandcastle on the beach.

The distraction pulled me to my senses, helping to ground me here during the showcase. Yaritza and Jamius scolded Gael because he’d forgotten to send in the paperwork to update their coven’s name. Gael feigned innocence while grimacing, but truthfully, Yaritza and Jamius shouldn’t have relied solely on the jester of their group to finalize the filing. Then again, despite the absurdity of the name, several acolytes in attendance already had Ben Dover’s Coven members memorized, and the preliminary opening ceremony hadn’t even finished.

Damn. Gael was always craftier than I gave credit to.

“I’m certain everyone is ecstatic about the rules behind the preliminary round!” Chanelle strutted across the stage, enthusiastically working the audience back to excitement after Headmaster Dower’s drool commencement ceremony had finally wrapped up. “Obviously, all the students can’t compete at once.” Chanelle paused for the theatricality that she loved so much. “Well, they could, but we don’t want you missing a single second of our students and their outstanding casting. We’ll be dividing the preliminary round into divisions based on covens and rankings.”

This was Chanelle’s way of leveling the playing field. Somewhat. It also meant half of the highest ranked students wouldn’t make it past the first round. While I worried about how many of my homeroom coven kids would end up eliminated, I admired Chanelle’s strategy. In her own small way, she wanted to flip off the industry ranking policy, offer the less combative an opportunity to shine, and open a few doors for the underdog.

I scrunched my face into an angry frown. She could’ve had this epiphany last year when I expressed how the system fucked over kids. Whatever. Better late than never. Plus, Chanelle was better at playing the long con than I was when it came to getting what she wanted in the world of education.

“The preliminaries will focus on collaboration, coordination, and conquering your fears!” Chanelle gestured to the covered tanks lining the edges of the arena floor.

As staff proctors like myself telekinetically removed the curtains draped over the glass tanks and revealed the fiends sealed inside, everyone reacted with terror and excitement—students who lined the outer perimeter of the arena, the audience, and even a few staff who didn’t realize how big some of the fiends would be. The mixed bag of powerful emotions made it difficult to stay composed, so I focused on Chanelle.

“Competing covens will be expected to eliminate fiends,” Chanelle explained, studying the audience as she buried her disappointment. “ Look at this turnout. All those invitations, calls, conversations, sweet talking…and for what? They all bailed. I should’ve saved the fiends for when the enchanters showed . What’d I do? Where’d I go wrong? ”

She hadn’t done anything wrong. Milo had simply diverted a lot of those meant to attend by wrangling together enchanters from every guild in the city. Well, he’d made certain Guild Master Campbell navigated those negotiations. The point was those absent enchanters were protecting our city, ensuring the MDC remained locked down and secure, safeguarding against Theodore Whitlock’s escape.

I shivered. Running a hand against my scar, I buried the memory of Theodore’s assault. It wouldn’t affect today. Milo planned for the four pillars of the Celestial Coven. Milo gathered Global Guild forces, strategically placing them where they were best suited, and kept the alliance of Chicago’s guilds strong so they could attack with a unified front.

Ignoring my own concerns, I stared out at the audience. Honestly, despite Chanelle’s disappointment, the turnout had been pretty impressive for a preliminary round. The arena seating was completely filled to max capacity. Sure, half of the attendance came down to staff and students dragged from their classrooms or parents who took the day off to see their kid’s performance. But there was a big turnout of acolytes in the audience, too. Guessing Milo didn’t want many of them walking into the MDC. Not with threats as big as the Celestial Coven…

I clenched my jaw.

No. I needed to stop obsessing. Aside from the fact that half of me was literally already obsessing on my behalf. An extended manifestation of my form currently watched everything unfold. If something dreadful occurred, if things took a turn for the worst, my other half would reconnect with me as a warning.

The entire auxiliary gym rumbled. Enchantments placed along every wall glowed, activating, then went silent with a frightening hiss. The hue of magic turned a sour puke green, and every intricately woven protection carved into the lining of the academy remained nothing more than uselessly written text scrawled on the walls.

Bright blue lights filled the arena stage, rippling portal doorways opening and closing everywhere.

A rapid flurry of explosions hit the arena flooring.

Smoke raged.

What’s happening?

My manifestation lunged through the smoke, intent on bombarding me with everything he’d witnessed in the week since I’d divided my thoughts. Here and now. No. I couldn’t.

“ He’s here. ” My other half had this terror-stricken face.

Our expressions stared back at each other like mirrors reflecting in an infinite loop, my expression frazzled and my manifestation’s frantic.

I looked past my manifestation to the clearing smoke, seeing the worst person in the world.

Triumph oozed off him, and delightful destructive desires danced delicately at the edges of his surface thoughts where he had already composed countless scenarios of how he’d eviscerate every single person at Gemini Academy.

The students. The staff. The audience. The few guild professionals.

Here, Theodore Whitlock stood, surrounded by demonic energy, raging minds from inmates hidden beneath the dying smoke, but how’d he get here? Where were the Global Guild witches? What happened to Milo?

My manifestation reached out, ready to fill in the missing pieces, and I readily accepted the answers.