“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Can I ask why you haven’t reported them to the WWC?”
“Because I have zero proof,” Cece said. “And I know from experience that the Witches and Warlocks Council is too busy chasing down its own agenda to give a crap about the very people it’s supposed to help. Even when there’s proof.”
Her voice was angry, and her knuckles were glowing a soft green. Briggs’s bear chuffed soothingly to her, and Briggs said, “Be calm, little witch.”
She glanced at him and then at her hands before grimacing and flexing them a few times. The green light in her knuckles faded, and she gave Monroe an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have a friend that the WWC screwed over big time, and I’m still salty about it.”
“Understandable,” Monroe said.
His attraction to Cece was growing. Briggs could smell it easily now, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to growl at the warlock.
“Okay, well, you and Briggs are the last two, so let’s get started,” Monroe said.
“What kind of warlock are you?” Cece asked.
“I’m a water warlock,” Monroe said.
“How many protection spells have you done?”
“Many,” Monroe said. “Protection spells are kind of a hobby of mine.”
“A hobby?” Cece said. “I’m sorry, but if they’re just a hobby then -”
“I promise you, I’m excellent at casting protection spells,” Monroe said.
Cece studied him. “No dark magic?”
“Not a bit,” he said. “My mother would hex me herself if I used dark magic.”
“How much time per day do you spend practicing witchcraft?” Cece asked.
Monroe’s grin widened. “I work for the WWC, so I’d say more than average.”
Briggs could smell Cece’s surprise and a hint of embarrassment. “You work for the WWC?”
“I do. In the research department,” he said before Cece could ask. “Don’t worry, I know more than anyone how dysfunctional my employer can be.”
“Do they know you do these protection spells on the side?” Cece asked.
“They do. It’s all on the up and up, Cece, I promise,” Monroe said.
Cece’s tense body relaxed a little, and Monroe gave her another charming smile. “Good to go?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Monroe said. “I would have questions too. Okay, let’s start with Briggs.”
His bear growling uneasily, Briggs joined Monroe by the long boardroom table. The warlock didn’t seem intimidated by his size or the scowl Briggs couldn’t keep off of his face.
Monroe lit one of the black candles. It had Briggs’s name carved into it, and he set it inside a circle of black stones before lighting a bundle of herbs that looked similar to what Cece used earlier at the house.
“The stones are black tourmaline, and this is rosemary,” Monroe said before blowing out the rosemary. It produced a steady stream of smoke as he waved the bundle of herbs in a gentle back-and-forth motion for a minute or so before he gently pressed the smoldering end into a small bowl of sand. Briggs studied the scallop-shaped seashell that hung around the warlock’s neck on a thin silver chain. It was cream with teal streaks that seemed to shimmer in the light.
Monroe studied Briggs’s t-shirt. “Can you take off your shirt?”
“Why?” Briggs asked.
“Skin to skin contact is needed for the spell,” Monroe said.
