Chapter 20
Wally snorted from his sunny perch among the ferns, as if he understood her stream of consciousness scribbles. He sprawled on his back, little paws in the air, radiating smugness.
“Don’t you start,” she muttered, setting her pen aside. “I’ve already survived one near-explosion this week, and it had nothing to do with my love life.”
The greenhouse door creaked open before she could elaborate. A familiar voice that sounded smooth, rested, and irritatingly chipper announced, “Peace offering.”
Sebastian stepped in sporting two coffees in a cardboard tray and a grin that should’ve come with a warning label.
His sleeves were rolled up, his collar open, and his dark blond hair still damp from the shower.
Magda’s first coherent thought was that he had no right to tempt her like that.
Her second was that she hadn’t brushed her hair yet.
“You’re early,” she said, accepting the cup he held out.
“Or you’re late,” he countered. “Figured I’d get ahead of your next potion before it gets ahead of us.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that scientist humor?”
“Only if you laugh.”
She did—once—and it sounded sarcastic, even to her own ears. Wally thumped his tail, delighted.
Sebastian set his tablet on the worktable, its screen glowing with scrolling data. “I thought you’d want to see this. The sensors recorded electromagnetic fluctuations during the last test.”
“Fluctuations?” she repeated, leaning in despite herself.
He zoomed in on a neat little wave pattern. “See here? Perfect alignment with our emotional peaks. Every spike corresponds to… well, when things got interesting.”
She squinted. “Hmmm… that is interesting.”
He hesitated, lips twitching. “Right before the greenhouse exploded with glitter.”
Magda groaned. “Wait! You’re saying feelings are measurable?”
“Under the right conditions.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute when you blaspheme.”
That earned her a surprised blink and then a slow, dawning smile. A smile that did terrible, wonderful things to her heartbeat. For a long second, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the hum of the lamps and Wally’s soft, self-satisfied chuff.
Finally, Magda cleared her throat. “So, what’s the takeaway, Professor?”
“That we might’ve proven a link between emotion and organic resonance,” he said. “And that we should probably run one last controlled experiment before reporting to Chad and the League.”
“Right. Controlled.”
They both knew how that had gone last time.
Still, she found herself nodding. “Fine. One more. But no touching, no flirting, and absolutely no spontaneous glitter phenomena.”
Sebastian’s grin widened. “I’ll try to restrain the universe.”
“Good. Because if it happens again, you’re cleaning the ceiling.”
He glanced up at the faint shimmer still clinging to the rafters. “Fair enough.”
“Just kidding. I can do that with a wave of my wand.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, impressed. The sunlight caught his hair like gold threads as he settled back onto his stool. Magda took a sip of coffee, pretending the warmth spreading through her chest was caffeine and not something far more dangerous.
“One last experiment,” she told him.
He nodded. “And after that?”
“I guess that depends on the result.” Yeah, that sounded cool… maybe.
The experiment looked innocent enough with two small flasks, three sensors, and one dangerously optimistic scientist.
“Nothing can go wrong this time,” Sebastian said, rolling up his sleeves.
Magda eyed him over her notebook. “You just doomed us all. That’s science’s version of ‘hold my beer.’”
He grinned. “Have a little faith.”
“I did,” she said. “Then the glitter happened.”
They toasted with mugs of coffee. “To restraint,” he said.
“To trying to control magic and the universe,” she countered.
They prepared the brew together. Their movements synchronized without meaning to. Her intuition, his precision. The potion glowed gold-white, pulsing softly in time with their breaths.
When it reached its peak resonance, a wave of warmth exploded outward, rippling through the air like an emotional shockwave.
Suddenly, every living thing nearby felt everything: Wally hiccupped and burst into affectionate cooing noises.
The potted ivy twined toward the ceiling, spelling LOVE in cursive. Sebastian and Magda sensed each other’s attraction so vividly that it was dizzying. She stumbled, then caught herself on his chest. Instant flare.
He whispered, “If this is what resonance feels like, I’m doomed.”
The potion on the table shimmered, blushing pink, and let out a suspicious hum.
“Is it supposed to do that?” Sebastian asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
He shrugged.
The hum deepened into a low thrum that vibrated through the floor. Magda felt it in her ribs first, then in her neck, and finally in her lips. Vines quivered. The glass panes glowed a faint white-gold.
Sebastian glanced at his tablet. “Readings are spiking. Magnetic, emotional, and maybe existential.”
“Existential?”
“Could be my own panic.”
The thrum rolled outward like a sound wave they couldn’t hear but could feel. Every leaf in the greenhouse lifted as if in a breeze that wasn’t there. Wally squeaked and dove into a giant flowerpot.
Magda groaned. “Oh, Goddess. Did we just emotionally Wi-Fi the entire mansion?”
Across the estate, pandemonium bloomed. In the kitchen, Crystal stirred cookie dough with the zeal of a caffeinated sailor, belting out sea shanties that shook the cupboards.
In the library, Victoria had levitated half the shelves and was rearranging them “by vibe.” Romance novels nestled beside self-help manuals. A history book flirted with a grimoire.
Joell and Lioness bickered outside the lab door.
“Reports need bullet points,” Joell snapped.
“They need illustrations,” Lioness shot back, waving a sketchpad like a weapon.
“Since when does the League accept doodles?”
“Since art was valid data!”
From somewhere upstairs, Rayna could be heard alternately crying and threatening to hex her phone since Adam Payne hadn’t answered her text. It had been three whole minutes. Sahara tried to chart everyone’s mood swings on a holographic spreadsheet until the holograms wept too.
Even the mansion got in on the drama. Doors slammed, curtains fluttered like sighs, chandeliers swayed mournfully, and one portrait blushed bright crimson.
Back in the greenhouse, Magda clutched the worktable. “We’ve created a magical feedback loop.”
Sebastian stared at his data, then at her. “I think we’ve created a new branch of science.”
“We’ve created hormones on heroin.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “So same oblivion, less punishable.”
Now, everyone was overrun by emotion. Joell kept leaving Crowe voicemails full of breathless romantic monologues. He was away on a scouting mission to further secure their Tennessee location but was loving her poetry.
Brianna burst into poetic declarations about time and destiny, weeping into her coffee.
Rayna started sharpening her sword and demanding to know why Payne hadn’t texted in several minutes.
Chad, caught in the crossfire, was suddenly sentimental about the League: “You’re all so brave, so brilliant. Don’t ever change!”
Even the mansion kept dimming lights and playing faint harp music from nowhere.
Magda and Sebastian dashed through the halls, trying to neutralize the pulse; each touch between them reignited the effect. Wally bounced behind them with a sage bundle, chanting something vaguely Aboriginal that shouldn’t work, but sort of did.
Magda and Sebastian finally escaped into the moonlit herb garden, kneeling and pressing their hands into the dirt to discharge the last of the energy. Both were trembling, in half laughter, half exhaustion.
Sebastian said, “You make me believe in things I can’t replicate.”
To which Magda answered, “And you make me remember magic deserves a hypothesis.”
Their foreheads touched, the air humming softly with leftover charge. Then he kissed her. Not a peck, but a quiet, lingering, oh damn, this is real kind of kiss.
Wally sneezed between them, breaking the moment.
Magda groaned. “Every time.”Sebastian chuckled. “Your familiar’s timing is impeccable.”
Before she could reply, the greenhouse door flew open, and Chad strode out, hair slightly smoking, clutching his phone.
“Okay,” he said, voice dangerously calm, “which one of you decided to weaponize estrogen?”
Magda opened her mouth. “Define—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “It’s PMDD week. You’re supposed to be halfway to Tennessee by now.”
Sebastian blinked. “PMDD week?”
Chad sighed. “Quarterly relocation. The mansion teleports to the mountains, so the rest of civilization stays intact. Insurance insists.”
Magda rubbed her temples. “Ugh. I forgot it was coming up so fast. You could’ve led with that.”
“Didn’t think I’d have to. This is an important Sabbat for you. Lammas. The first harvest, and all.”
“Yes, well, I’ve been distracted.”
The air shimmered beside him, and Brianna appeared mid-stride, scarf fluttering, coffee in hand. “You’re welcome,” she told Chad. “I reset the timeline just enough to save you the Penn Station trip. I also made sure Rayna’s pets picked up and stored our weapons.”
He staggered. “Next time, warn a guy before you bend time. My stomach feels like it’s in Midtown.”
The four of them strode inside the mansion, and Brianna looked around at the chaos. “Oh wow. You’re all running late this quarter.”
“Tell me about it,” Magda said. “The mansion’s developing feelings.”
Brianna sipped her coffee. “Then it’s definitely time. Pack your celebratory herbs and tools from the greenhouse for Lammas. Tennessee’s expecting us.”
Chad backed toward the door. “We’ll, uh…” He grabbed Sebastian’s sleeve, “get out of here.”
Brianna kissed him goodbye. “You’ll be fine. And so will we. Crowe’s already scouting the mountain’s perimeter. Just explain the mansion’s teleportation and warn our scientist not to open any glowing doors until we’re back.”
The mansion rumbled underfoot, humming louder. Golden light laced the walls, and air pressure shifted. “Let’s go, Dr. Voss!” Chad yelled, and the men ran down the mansion’s steps to the safety of the manicured lawn.
“Brace yourselves,” Brianna warned as the whole structure began to shimmer.
“The mountains are about to get emotional,” Magda added.
Wally dove into Magda’s satchel as the potion flared bright pink.
Then the world tilted. Light, wind, and vibrations folded in on themselves, and the mansion vanished from Long Island, leaving Chad and Sebastian standing in the quiet aftermath, looking at the mansion’s hologram.