Him being here was a concession. The gift he gave his parents to help them deal with his failure at Hollywood and Highland.
“If you can’t do your job, the least you can do is deal with that offshoot.”
Those hadn’t been his father’s exact words, but the tone was clear. If Silas couldn’t manage to get Aestas in line, then he would be expected to do the rest of his duties. Including the one that his parents knew he hated, the one he always tried to beg out of.
Covens with over ten members who refused to join Noctis were given three warnings.
The fourth was Noctis’ Executor showing up at their door and ripping their spellbook—and their ability to do magic—to shreds.
Silas took a sip of coffee.
Katherine walked out of the back with a tall man with salt-and-pepperbrown hair, a Superman jawline, and large hands that seemed way too comfortable rubbing up and down Katherine’s shoulders. They were laughing together with a clear familiarity, and Silas felt a spike of something that he wouldn’t let himself call jealousy. He had no reason to be jealous.
He just wished she wasn’t grinning so wide. That was all.
Both of their good moods fell away as they approached Silas’ table. Silas stood, prepping to give his Columbia University–approved handshake, but Niles wanted no part of it. He ignored Silas’ outstretched hand, instead pulling a chair out and sitting as far from Silas as the small table would allow. Message received.
Katherine raised her eyebrows at the clear tension. “I’ll be over there. Yell if you’re gonna wrestle, I want to record it.”
Niles glared at her, and even that made Silas bristle. They could joke together. He bet Niles made her laugh. He wondered if Katherine ever saw something Niles might find funny and texted it to him, if he replied that she knew him so well.
He was acting like a fucking twelve-year-old.
“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” Silas sat back down as he spoke, keeping his tone neutral and friendly.
“Let’s get this over with,” Niles snapped. “I saw the warnings. I know what’s supposed to happen next. And if you try to destroy our spellbook, I will throw your ass out on the street so hard you’ll wind up in Santa Monica.”
Silas didn’t tell Niles that fighting was useless. It didn’t matter that Niles was probably far more skilled at magic than Silas was—with the superior resources at Silas’ fingertips, there was no way Niles would be able to stop him if he decided to go on the warpath.
But he hadn’t come here to do that. He’d come here to try to find another way to handle this. One that didn’t end with him puking his guts up out of guilt.
“Mr. Cabrera—”
“You think you can waltz out of your penthouse and tell me what the people I serve need?” Niles interrupted. “You think this is for our own good. Because the paltry library of spells you’re willing to sharewith people who aren’t in the top one percent issoworth having you constantly breathing down our necks.”
“You’re right,” Silas said. Niles’ jaw clenched. “The system is deeply flawed. I know that. You know that. But we can’t fix it without the help of radical thinkers like you and the members of your coven.”
Niles let out a wry laugh. “You’re really gonna try that strategy, huh?”
Silas gave him as innocent a look as he could, but he knew it wasn’t fooling Niles for a second. He was getting more and more desperatenotto destroy this spellbook, not to put that blight on his soul once again.
“Look,” he tried. “The fact of the matter is, even with Noctis’ failings, you’re better off signing with us than remaining free. You’re doing the members of your coven a disservice. They’ll never reach their full potential without the resources to support them.”
“Are you serious?” Niles fumed. “I take care of my people by being open and honest with them. I don’t let them get caught up in pointless games or power plays. I give them spells when they need them. And when we don’t have a spell, we all come together and try to help as much as we can. We care about each other. I doubt Noctis can say the same.”
Niles pushed his chair back and stood. Silas opened his mouth to speak, but Niles silenced him with a glare.
“Try to destroy my spellbook if you want. See what happens.”
Niles didn’t wait to see how Silas would respond, instead storming off to the back of the coffee shop.
Silas sat frozen.
He didn’t understand why this was so hard for him—the rules were clear, and his job was to make people follow them. He’d learned to push down the twinge of guilt a long time ago, covering any doubt with suits and ties and handbooks. That, he reminded himself, was the way the world worked—laws were made, and people followed them. It shouldn’t matter that this particular law, the outsized harm it caused when compared to the importance of the rule broken, made his stomach turn.
He should just suck it up and do it. But he couldn’t.
He pushed himself to standing and walked toward Katherine’s table. She held her latte in front of her face, hiding her smile.
