Chapter Eleven
I stood in the hallway, sipping coffee and more exhausted than usual.
When Milo spent the night, I typically slept better, but we didn’t exactly sleep.
Not a fucking wink because of, well, all the fucking.
The pent-up stamina between the two of us, combined with the anticipation of finding a minute together, was wonderful and came with screwing late into the night; however, the roar of students parading through the hallways bright and early was the fallout for choosing sex over sleep.
How Milo managed to spring up at dawn and rush to his office with a smile on his face, I had no idea.
The minds of students and staff drummed inside my head, exasperating my sleep-deprivation headache.
Whether from my confession to Milo or his willingness to invite my strange telepathic tether, the synced link hadn’t hit yet.
Maybe my magic was too tired, or more likely, I didn’t know a thing about my evolving branch, and it’d strike a chord when it damn well pleased and not based on my guessing games.
Katherine and Caleb walked toward the classroom.
Katherine had her grimoire out, scribbling notes to a spell she planned on tweaking.
Caleb balanced the weighted blocks above his head, the only student in the hallway training his four root magics first thing in the morning.
The only one possibly training his magics at all times.
“Quick question.” I stopped the pair before they entered the classroom. “Do you like using those support tools?”
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “I know they’re kind of kiddish, but I’ve made some tweaks to the weight limit, so that’s been helping.”
He wasn’t wrong. Few witches used these tools; the academy didn’t even provide them because, while useful, they were considered most effective during elementary years. It was fascinating he’d increased the weight limit.
“Do you mind?” I reached out telekinetically, grabbing hold of one of the small, cubed weights. The sigil immediately recognized the hint of two telekinetic holds and dimly glowed.
“Sure.” Caleb released his telekinesis from the one I had.
The weighted block nearly fell from my grasp. I furrowed my brow, ignoring the sharp tug on my muscles. This wasn’t a slight modified increase to the weight limit.
“What’d you put in this tiny cube, an anvil?” I was only half joking. Though it would easily fit in the palm of my hand, it felt closer to carrying both my cats. Not a tremendous weight, but enough to make a small continuous effort applied all day exhausting.
“Oh, that was me.” Katherine beamed. “Took a spell I had, altered the sigils on Caleb’s weighted blocks, and bam. An easy three-step process.”
Interesting. A three-step process that involved a half dozen prerequisites, each based on Katherine’s capabilities and understanding of enchantments .
“Could you modify these to respond to any magic?” I continued keeping the heavy cube afloat and passed it back to Caleb, who circulated it with the others he used for practicing.
His Cast-8-Watch beeped, passing through another marker of registered magical practice. Confidence brimmed alongside anxiety as he dwelled on whether this would be enough to impact his ranking for the Spring Showcase.
“Definitely. What’d you have in mind?” Katherine’s smile filled her face, eagerly awaiting an opportunity to tinker with more magics.
I eyed Tara and Gael, who walked into homeroom.
“Just a little project that might help someone. We can talk about it after class, Katherine.”
Milo’s mind returned, calling out as I taught.
The duality of standing in my classroom, fully present, while another part remained connected to Milo, hovering in his thoughts, proved difficult to navigate.
Though, I’d found a trick by latching onto nearby minds.
None of my homeroom coven students were in this particular history class, so I latched onto a student from Chanelle’s homeroom.
He buzzed with recipes and ingredients that blended into his two passions in life—a love for cooking and for crafting.
Potion crafting usually involved making tonics, elixirs, and remedies of all kinds, but how beneficial they were solely depended on the witch creating them.
It was similar to Katherine’s spell craft branch, except Harrison used potions instead of pages.
“Today, we’re going to discuss demon classifications and the tonics—er, types—which present themselves when a demon fully ascends.”
Harrison’s bubbling thoughts caused more confusion than clarity as I taught the history behind demonic incursions.
Considering the explosive spells teeming along his surface thoughts, I was grateful he had to keep his cauldron at home. The fanny pack strapped to his waist—such an ironic throwback—had enough dangerous concoctions to create a Yaritza-level firework show.
I bounced from Harrison’s mind to another, hopeful the students would keep me firmly planted here while I pushed Milo’s actions to the back burner of my mind, a technique I hadn’t used since my branch first developed.
Like with cooking—or at least I assumed from how those who cooked described it—I was able to move it out of the way, but I couldn’t ignore it either.
If I didn’t tend to the constant flux of Milo’s mind when the chord struck and the tether linked us, I’d end up with the pot overflowing. Or, in this case, Milo’s thoughts bombarding me so much I’d pass out like I’d nearly done when he took the demon case.
I ground my teeth. Maybe I was mixing metaphors. Whatever. I missed being able to summon a manifestation, something to create a buffer for all this psychic energy. Despite my blossoming telepathy growing rampant and more invasive, I couldn’t steady my mind enough to summon a manifestation.
Honestly, this trick for latching onto nearby minds would probably work best on familiar ones. Another reminder I barely knew the hundred and twenty-six students on my rosters.
Milo read files on all the enchanters and acolytes at Cerberus Guild, annoyed he was limited to his own guild’s magics since there were a few witches at Kraken and Vixen that’d make this investigation smoother. He had no clarity on the type of demons he’d encounter and wanted certainty.
Enchanter Campbell stepped into his office. “Have you made a decision, or do I need to put together my own team?”
“Unnecessary.” Milo placed two files at the edge of his desk, separating them from the large stack. “I’d like to work with these two acolytes.”
“You’ll want another enchanter,” Campbell said, grabbing the files and reading them over.
“Trust me, I really won’t.”
I wrinkled my brow, pausing during instruction. Milo really only wanted two acolytes for a demon investigation? Reckless. Dangerous.
“ Is he okay? ” A thought that bubbled on the few minds still paying attention to my lecture. I continued while more fixated on the discussion in Milo’s office and his plans.
“After reviewing their files, both are incredibly skilled, hyper-focused, and more than capable of handling this investigation alongside me.” Milo strummed his fingers on his desk, drawing me back in and painting a scene of his office through the vibrations.
“Weren’t you the one complaining an acolyte dropped the ball on a case you’d handed them on a platter?”
Our day date, which was true since he’d ended up dealing with the fiends himself.
The dominos fell in an unexpected direction.
He had hoped for something fun and light that Sunday, knowing his upcoming Global Ranking’s Ceremony might’ve put me in a mood or questionable state.
Though, considering how it resolved itself, he didn’t seem upset.
I’d gone to show support and openly address our relationship, the absolute smallest of possible variables.
He wondered if he was losing his touch at predictions or if he didn’t know me as well as he believed .
“The point stands. This’ll be a complex case, and based on the victims, I’d prefer talented and low-profile witches.”
“Acolyte Novak is hardly low profile.”
A Novak? Surprising someone from that family would work at a Whitlock-owned guild, not that there were many other reputable ones to choose from in the state, but given the spite Jamie held for Tara purely based on her name, I could only imagine what resentment this Acolyte Novak held.
“You want this done quickly or correctly?” Milo stood up and straightened his jacket.
“Both.”
“Then those acolytes are our best bet.” Milo strutted toward his door.
“Where are you going?”
“Got a lead to follow up. Doing my part to be efficient.”
Enchanter Campbell gagged at Milo’s minxy wink.
Jamie walked faster, attempting to cut Tara off at the doorway to the classroom.
“Ba-ba-ba!” King Clucks furiously flapped his wings, sidestepping between the pair, his clawed feet click-clacked against the floor. His comb jiggled as he tilted his head and pecked the air, forcing Jamie to backstep.
Jamie continued being a thorn in my side, taking any and every opportunity to bully Tara through any tactics possible.
It took all I had to muster even a modicum of enthusiasm for this class as I buried a dozen different thoughts and the waning thread of Milo’s mind .
“Today, we’re going to discuss demon classifications and the types which present themselves when a fiend fully ascends.” I talked on autopilot, regurgitating information I’d already said verbatim for the most part to three earlier classes.
Lessons often started the same way, but when my mind was more my own, I’d steer discussion toward student interests and heighten conversation in areas that needed more elaboration to increase their understanding while also keeping lectures from wandering too far off-topic. This wasn’t one of those days.