The original King Liberty appeared over a hundred and fifty years ago. He was the first witch to oppose the Crown and use his magic for the betterment of the people without taking a cut of profits for the royal family.
This didn’t go unchallenged, and for the better part of a decade, the Crown attempted to capture King Liberty for making a mockery of their rulership. When the military eventually detained the first King Liberty, they publicly stripped him of his mask, revealing the third son of the ruling family. A prince who would never claim the crown, and they painted him as a petty villain as opposed to a vigilante hero. They tortured King Liberty into confessing to acts of treason, and then they had him drawn and quartered. They burned his remains and used all the magicand influence at their disposal to remove him from all family records and public knowledge. His name never survived the test of time, but his legend certainly did.
His death wasn’t in vain, as it inspired a new witch to wear the mask of King Liberty. The second King Liberty went on to inspire a hundred more witches to don masks of their own and carry the mantle of liberation. Those hundred vigilantes inspired a thousand more, and for the better part of a century, Europe had to contend against forces with real public appeal until they finally legalized the collection of masked heroes.
The current King Liberty was the twenty-second or twenty-third to wear the mask; I could never recall off hand how many there’d been. And I had no idea if he was part of the royal family or merely a citizen—the rumors made national headlines on occasion, but his mask and hat were seeped in enchantments and warding magics that kept my telepathy from delving deep into his mind. Probably something all the masked witches invested in to keep magic from outing their identities. Technology already gave them a run for their anonymity as it was.
“Does this mean you’ll be abandoning me?” King Liberty asked. His flirtatious tone reeled me from my thoughts, and his emotions oozed with desire. “I was rather enjoying your company.”
“Be grateful the Celestial Coven hasn’t dug in deeper roots.” Gladiatrix ignored his minxy smile and turned her gaze elsewhere. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hide the coy smile King Liberty’s flirtatious banter brought out.
With Gladiatrix and King Liberty settling into awkward conversation, it seemed there was nothing useful here for me to glean, so I crept back into the shadows of the psychic plane and traversed the magical realm to quickly return to my core selfback in Chicago. A trip from England to the US took damn near a day for anyone else, but as a telepath with no limitations on the range of my magic, I swept across thousands of miles in mere minutes.
If only my manifestations could do more than observe, then I might actually be a real threat to the Celestial Coven and The True Witch.
I awoketo the throbbing headache of memories sorting themselves out in the worst type of mental Tetris. It seemed Gladiatrix didn’t find any luck with the latest facility I’d located, which meant I needed to find another trail of Theodore or his mother. Their presence had become harder to pinpoint as the months passed, and fewer of my manifestations came back with results.
That said, I had a more difficult battle ahead of me this morning. Ben had slipped into our room again, unable to sleep by himself, and wedged himself between Milo and me around midnight. Now, he lay on top of me, sprawled out and crushing my bladder. When Milo made it clear he wanted to keep Ben and raise him, ensuring the kid didn’t slip through the cracks after enduring so many horrors, I agreed to help. In order to officially foster Ben together, we had to prove we were a serious couple, which meant moving in together. Since Milo had the bigger place—an entire damn penthouse—I sold my house and moved in here.
Ben wasn’t the only one currently crushing me. Milo had also nestled in closely because he loved to cuddle and hog the bed. He’d cocooned himself in the blankets and pressed himself rightagainst me, nearly rolling me off the side of the bed. If that wasn’t enough, Charlie had curled up into a tight ball of orange fluff and slept on my neck. Oxygen be damned when he needed his cuddles and affection.
“Meow,” Carlie cried, which could only mean I was late when it came to providing her breakfast.
I sighed, showing her the mountain of clingy men in my life that kept me trapped in bed. Carlie didn’t care. She strutted across the bed and gently nudged my foot with her head. A warning that a bite would soon follow if I didn’t move.
With a delicate wave, I coiled telekinesis around Milo, Ben, and Charlie. Carefully lifting them, I twisted my wrist ever so to guide them to the other side of the king-size mattress. I set Milo down first, then placed Ben beside him and planted Charlie in between Ben’s arms. As expected, Ben held him close, and Charlie nuzzled right up for the sleepy attention.
A piercing pain shot through my foot, and I nearly yelped, waking everyone up.
“Dammit, cat,” I quietly hissed, which merely provoked a judgmental glare from Carlie, whose tail swished back and forth, thumping hard on the bed as she awaited her meal.
I got up, poured food in her bowl—skipped Charlie’s bowl because I’d be damned if Carlie ate it all while he slept—then made my way through my morning routine. Bathroom, shower, balcony for a smoke. Except, I’d stopped doing that. I stood close to the balcony door, muscle memories and cravings still strongly intact even after six and a half weeks without a cigarette. It didn’t take living together for long before Milo’s worries and Ben’s badgering had worn me down. I turned away and returned to the kitchen to cook breakfast. Well, if microwaving the breakfast sandwich Milo had meal-prepped counted as cooking.
Seriously, he’d make all kinds of dishes, from full-course meals to easy on-the-go snacks. He even made a bunch of those non-crust peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Ben to take to school in his lunchbox. Milo had suburban dad hat down to a T, where I was still trying to figure out my place in the world.
Since my telepathy had grown, I’d decided to use this new gift to track down the Celestial Coven. Not that I’d been very successful. And technically, I worked at Cerberus Guild again, but mostly just to appease the red tape that required me to be an official guild member enchanter in order for the Global Guild to acquiesce to my services as a freelance investigator in their case. Not that they wanted my help or used my services a lot. Most of my days were spent floundering between one project or another. It was almost October, and I hadn’t started the new school year yet.
There was an emptiness that came with not returning to Gemini Academy. I’d kept my magic close to my students’ minds over the summer to ensure their safety, but when the end of August rolled around and I hadn’t returned to work, I closed off my mind to them. I wasn’t ready for their reactions, their feelings—if they had any about my absence—but now that we’d entered October, they’d officially begin their internships. I truly hoped Chanelle found them all something perfect. I’d pestered her damn near enough to guarantee it.
“Morning, my grumpy little storm cloud.” Milo wrapped an arm around my stomach and pulled me in for a hug from behind.
“You could just say good morning like a normal person.”
“Where’s the fun in that, my pouty prince?”
I sulked, which only made him giggle and squeeze me tighter. With his free hand, he moved it up my side until he reached my shoulders.
All these months later, he still tended to brush his fingers against the nape of my neck before kissing me there. I supposed he’d grown accustomed to my long hair and hadn’t adjusted to the new cut. I liked it, though. Less maintenance, which was never my strongest trait.
“You nervous about today?”
“Why would I be nervous?” I shook loose and went to pack Ben’s lunch. It mostly consisted of assembling the various snacks and such Milo had prepped in advance.
Admittedly, I was a bit anxious about today. The internships were officially starting up. I’d see my students again. Everything they worked for at the academy led them to their internship, and depending on who they landed with, it could make or break their chances in the industry. Not only that, but I wasn’t with them these past few weeks and wasn’t able to make any last-minute preparations. Wasn’t able to ensure they’d stayed strong and done everything possible to improve their odds. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t—
“What’s for breakfast?” Ben asked, pulling me from my concerns and back to the morning routine where my mind needed to stay grounded.
He was still in his pajamas as he trudged through the kitchen to the small eat-in table we often used for snacks and quick meals, unlike the dining room, where we tried to maintain regular dinners. Well, twice a week, for sure. Our schedules were a bit hectic here.
