Chapter 7 #2
“I just mean because this facility is highly classified and even I have to get approval each time I show up.”
“They won’t be leaving the lobby,” Gladiatrix replied. “Plus, the Global Guild has wards blocking them from disclosing classified intel.”
I quirked a brow. “Is that legal?”
“They signed the waivers. I’m going to go with yes.” And with that, Gladiatrix led the way deeper into the detainment chambers.
We arrived at a central office where Enchanter Wadsworth spent almost all his time. Here, he monitored details on the Celestial Coven, dictated patrol movements, and observed the other witches from the coven already detained.
He stood, propped up by his oxygen tank that he used more as a walker than for its intended purpose.
Name: Samual Wadsworth
Branch: Rejuvenation (Healing)
Milo stood beside him, ignoring the wafting smoke from Wadsworth’s chain-smoking.
Christ, how I missed cigarettes sometimes.
Especially when I stepped through their perfectly foul aroma with just the right hint of soothing satisfaction.
How could a smell ease the tension in my muscles?
I shook away the desire and focused on Wadsworth’s heavy wheezing.
I didn’t need that in my life. Not when I had Ben and Milo.
“This attack is no coincidence,” Wadsworth said, lighting up another cigarette with the embers of his first. “Obviously, The True Witch is making her move and once again targeting Chicago for whatever reason.”
“We know the reason,” Milo said. “In part. It may be time to reach out to Tara Whitlock, put Global Guild protection on her.”
My breathing hitched.
“No,” Wadsworth said. “I’ve informed Tobias, questioned him as well, and while I find him irritating, I believe he has his daughter’s best interest at heart.”
“While he weathers the storm overseas?” Milo asked with an eyeroll.
Tobias Whitlock did leave Tara with an elite protective detail. Nearly fifty witches with military expertise that put them on par with some of the best enchanters.
“Why don’t we focus on the witch we have detained?” Wadsworth said, shooting me a sour frown. “Maybe this one can actually be useful for once.”
“I’m sorry,” Milo said. “How many operations have you located in the last three months?”
“Lot of good it’s done us.” Wadsworth huffed.
Milo gave me a sympathetic shrug. “I tried.”
“I’m not worried. He’s an ass to everyone,” I said, cutting my gaze to the old man. “Even himself.”
“Parlor tricks from a half-rate psychic.” Wadsworth glared. “Hopefully, you can unravel something from this witch, since you haven’t managed anything with the others.”
Ugh. The grumpy old prick still resented the fact that I couldn’t glean anything from Grim or Lazarus.
“When you find a way to raise the dead or piece together dust, I’ll get right on it,” I said with some snippy snark. “Until then, they don’t have thoughts to read.”
“Yada, yada. Excuses.”
They weren’t excuses. Lazarus had zero thoughts.
No brain activity. No pulse either. I wasn’t sure how he triggered his resurrection, but he knew not to come back to life while detained in our custody.
As for Grim, his bones were smashed into such tiny pieces that most of him was dust, and his thoughts were even more fragmented than his body.
We might’ve captured two pillars of the Celestial Coven, but there wasn’t a damn thing we could do with them.
I had access to The Sisters Three’s memories, but they were jumbled and coded and arranged out of sequence.
Organizing thousands of years’ worth of memories wasn’t a simple task.
I might’ve defeated the wicked bitches, but they certainly got the last laugh, scrambling their memories.
“Look, just let me examine Winston,” I said. “I’ll get you intel.”
“No,” Wadsworth said. “I’m not sending you in until our divination witches find and locate any traps his mind might be armed with.”
Good call. I’d walked into an enchantment trap of the mind before, and it hurt like fuck.
“Come back tomorrow, be useful, and see if you live up to the hype your dumb boyfriend never shuts the fuck up about.” Wadsworth waved us off, but kept Gladiatrix close to discuss guild matters.
As we left, I retrieved my phone to add ‘analyze evil witch’s memories’ to my to-do list.
“Oh, dammit.”
“What’s wrong?” Milo asked.
“I just realized my new caseload means I’ll have to cancel as a chaperone for tomorrow’s field trip,” I replied. “Unless, of course, Winston is nice enough to unravel his thoughts for me without resistance.”
“All part of the enchanter gig.” Milo smiled. “Ben will understand.”
“Will he? I worry. He was excited about me chaperoning. He hasn’t really made any friends yet. He keeps to himself most days, and I don’t know, I just thought—”
“How about I go? I can move my cases around tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Plus, who doesn’t love the zoo?”
“They’re not going to the zoo.”
“Yes, they are. Ben’s been talking about the animals all week.”
“They’re going to Familiar Rescue Haven.”
Milo’s smile fell away as his mind registered the name.
It wasn’t a field trip I would’ve planned for a bunch of elementary students, but I supposed there was some healthy benefit to showing them the less sunny side of life.
Although I definitely didn’t want to be there for all the questions the kids would have about death.
Chicago ran the only shelter in the state for familiars who lost their witch partner.
Since their familiar bond couldn’t relink with a new witch, they were often abandoned by the grieving family.
More so out of necessity than cruelty. The fees for a familiar were pricey, and without their witch partner, their magic became finicky.
Hence, why so few havens were properly funded to take on animals with magic.
That and some were quite exotic, which meant more expensive to house and feed.
“So, then it’s settled.” Milo squeezed my shoulders. “I’ll be the chaperone and you’ll be the mighty enchanter.”
His mind whirled with ideas on the reversal of our roles.
“You’re still an enchanter. You’re just making time for Ben, whereas I’m abandoning him.”
“Ouch. You make working sound so cruel. Bettering the future. Keeping everyone safe. Stopping witch extremists. None of that sounds like abandonment to me.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
With that, Milo dragged me out of the Global Guild detainment facility, and we went home.
It was impossible to relax. I found my telepathy returning to the detainment facility, unable to breach the protective barriers put in place, but already jumping at the opportunity for work. It made sleep difficult.
The Celestial Coven was making their move. The True Witch was making her move. Theodore Whitlock was making his move. I had to outsmart them all, stop them in their tracks, and bring an end to this vile group.