Chapter Four
After a full day of instruction, continuously casting small doses of magic, dodging every adult who wanted conversation—except for Chanelle, who bitterly ignored me as punishment for this morning—and flying home, all I wanted to do was pass out on the couch.
Charlie had curled himself up into a perfect little orange ball of fluff.
If I picked him up, he’d beg for attention, so I chose the lesser of two evils and sat on the chair opposite the couch.
I didn’t want to sleep anyway. A nap would keep me up all night.
I wanted to rest without movement or thinking or casting.
“Meow.” Carlie trotted into the living room, her call whiny and seeking sympathy for her equally exhausting day.
Ah, yes. How dare I consider relaxation when she only had dry food in a bowl and could quite literally starve to death. She rolled on the carpet, flashing her fluffy white gut because that was somehow supposed to show how vulnerable and underfed she was .
“I’m coming.” I walked into the kitchen.
Charlie perked up and raced behind me, weaving between my legs. I reached for cans while Carlie whined at my sluggish pace. Paper rustled, and Charlie chirped. I turned, and there he was, biting into a torn notebook page tucked beneath the fridge.
“What are you doing, cat?” I grabbed it from his mouth.
Had time between jobs so figured I’d feed the kitties! Think they’re warming up to me.
— Milo
I eyed Carlie. She’d quieted and started licking her paws like this page didn’t have her claw marks all over it. How many other times had Milo dropped by to feed the cats only for his note to conveniently end up batted under some hidden nook of the house?
“Thank you, Charlie.” I picked up my adorable tabby, who was in no way warming up to Milo because he was all mine, and glared at Carlie. “You’re crafty. Too crafty.”
I was half convinced she was more than a pet but some poor witch’s familiar who’d stuck around here because of how comfortable I’d made her lifestyle. Carlie slapped her bowl and scurried out of the kitchen to the back of the house. Well, not that comfortable a lifestyle.
I hugged Charlie tight and plopped onto the couch, petting him despite my sore arms. He purred and nuzzled my chin before kneading my shirt.
Repositioning myself so I didn’t disturb Charlie, I stretched for the controller and turned on the television.
I was too tired to read and sitting in silence just filled my head with the thoughts of my neighbors.
My phone buzzed as I flipped channels. Charlie purred louder like somehow that’d convince me the vibration in my pocket came from him and there was no need to stop petting him.
I checked the alert, which was just a notification about a special report involving Enchanter Evergreen doing another news piece.
I’d spent so much time Googling him, somehow my phone auto-set alerts based on my interests.
Or Milo fucked with my phone. In either case, I didn’t know how to turn off the notifications.
I flipped to the news station where Milo’s face filled the television screen. The camera reeled back, displaying the crowd of guests lined at the entryway to Cerberus Guild. Not quite the tiny ceremony he alluded to this morning or every time I’d inquired.
“Quite the turnout Cerberus has brought to celebrate,” the reporter said.
“A bit preemptive, I’d say.” Milo fussed with his hair, shyly scratching the back of his head, yet grinned.
This was his best “I’m-so-humbled Enchanter Evergreen” expression, which he rarely broke out.
It wasn’t preemptive, it was overdue, and obviously Cerberus agreed given the party Milo kept downplaying.
“Early nominations are out,” the reporter said. “You’re finally on the list for the Global Ranking’s Ceremony, a feat few enchanters ever make and something many think you should’ve been considered for a lot sooner.”
I sat up, annoying Charlie who leapt off me and walked out of the living room, leaving orange hairs across my dark shirt. Milo made this guild event out to be no biggie!
I scoffed, completely tuning out the reporter as B-roll footage played during her brief explanation to the importance of the Global Rankings.
The Global Ranking’s Ceremony was a yearly event acknowledging the most elite enchanters based on missions, accomplishments, and a thousand other thinly veiled selective factors that all boiled down to who-knew-who and how well they played the game.
As if that in itself wasn’t annoying enough, they painted the ceremony like it actually acknowledged witches across the globe when the worldwide rankings were only based on U.S.
enchanters. Still, for a list that considered millions but only selected a few hundred, this was a triumphant accomplishment.
“While I’m so honored to be considered, I feel like Cerberus is making a much bigger deal out of this than necessary,” Milo said. Correction, Enchanter Evergreen said, because he always picked his words so precisely.
But people in the city loved his accolades—even his showboating from time to time—so who was the audience he kept coy for? I doubted the panelist for the Global Rankings cared.
“This year’s most eligible enchanters will be announced soon, and with that fancy new ranking, I’d wager a lot of viewers are curious if you’ll be on that list again.”
Milo blushed. “There are so many other more eligible and amazing enchanters in the city. Honestly, I hope they’re considered before anyone from the Chicago Casting magazine calls me.”
“More eligible?” The reporter had a tartness in her voice, a lull like she’d caught him in wordplay, which she had because Milo and I hadn’t announced our relationship publicly.
It was a lot—letting him in, accepting I deserved happiness again—and I’d reluctantly expressed my fears of too many outside voices evaluating our relationship. I wanted us to work, but I knew what an emotionless prick I could be and didn’t want to shove Milo away for my own convenience.
Milo paused on her leading question. His anxiety swelled while he considered his response, worried his hesitation might feed into a result he didn’t want.
I pressed my temples. Milo didn’t worry about that.
He was on the other side of the city, well out of range to even my best telepathic pulls.
I was anxious. I was worried. I dreaded what he’d say next because I couldn’t decide if him suddenly announcing our relationship was a move I wanted or if I’d be more upset if he continued with the ruse. A ruse I’d pressured him into .
My stomach sank with indecision. I was a fucking moron.
“Does that mean you’ve got someone special?” the reporter followed up. “Rumor has it sparks may’ve possibly rekindled between you and Enchanter Campbell since she took the guild master role?”
“I don’t think workplace romances are for me,” Milo said. “Besides, she’s far too enchanting for someone like myself. Have you met the woman? She’s a force unlike any other, piecing together the fallout those warlocks caused. Honestly, she should be attending the Global Ranking’s Ceremony.”
“Does this mean you’ll be supporting her bid for taking over as the executive guild master?”
The reporter prattled on, complimenting Milo.
Somehow, I found myself pacing between the living room and kitchen, cleaning things I had no desire to tend to.
I should have just turned off the news. Or maybe I should have checked in on Milo.
It wasn’t like he’d reply to a message mid interview, but I could send something supportive for his small event.
“There’s also been talk about you and Hellrazer working more together lately despite the fact Kraken Guild has taken a solitary approach since the fallout with Whitlock Industries. Any chance there are some rekindled embers to that romance?”
“You should know The Inevitable Future would never let a bit of business strife stand in the way of ensuring a brighter future for everyone.”
That’d been a concern of Milo’s since the fallout of Whitlock Industries.
Sure, Tobias Whitlock remained strong, but he was reclusive since his implications on illegal contracts and government sanctioned human experiments.
Every guild in Chicago clamored for independence, which meant those collaborative joint missions Enchanter Evergreen often relied on for the best outcomes became more difficult to acquire .
“Does that bright future involve you with the brightest flame this city has?”
I clenched my fist so tightly, I wove telekinesis and knocked an empty glass off the table.
Thank God for carpets and for being too winded to accidentally fling it against a wall.
I took a deep breath, composing myself. Milo and the obnoxious bad boy wannabe Hellrazer didn’t bother me.
I wasn’t concerned about Milo straying, and I knew about his relationships when we weren’t together.
He had charisma, he had needs, and he shouldn’t have had to isolate himself simply because that was what I’d done.
So, no, I didn’t worry about his mountain of exes or how well he maintained platonic relationships with them or the flickers of memories he carried for each of them.
They were a part of his life, like everyone he’d worked with, befriended, rescued, and so forth.
What made my hands clammy and throat dry was how the two exes that damn reporter mentioned both fit so neatly into Enchanter Evergreen’s world. The Inevitable Future might regret that I was no prize and incapable of openly accepting his profession or our relationship.
“Enchanter Ortiz is quite phenomenal, but unfortunately, his flame burns bright for another. Or will. Or could. Or should.” Milo laughed off her prodding questions, adding in some jokes and doing what the public loved so deeply about him: he talked candidly, like there were no cameras with thousands of eyes on him, but instead, he sat in a closed room chatting with his best friend.
Screw this. I went to my bedroom, rummaging through every cheap suit I owned. I was halfway out of my clothes and tossing on a button-up before it dawned on me what I was doing.
I was going to Enchanter Evergreen’s little celebration because I wanted Milo to know I supported his world, his role in it, and every accomplishment he’d earned.