“Good, and you’re about to even better. Boys?”
The guards stood awkwardly, still trying to figure out the new hierarchy and alignment of their loyalties, but Maia made it easy.
“Starting from…” she checked the time on her phone, “Right fucking now, I’m officially your boss. And Ronan?”
Ronan breathed heavily, his grip on me tight.
“You don’t have a problem with that. Right?”
She tilted her chin, her coy smile belying the threat in her eyes.
A claim for the position left by Kenzo Oniguro had been made.
And Ronan would not challenge it.
He shook his head.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. So here’s what we’re actually gonna do.”
52
The Witching Hour
Six weeks later
Ronan
Ididn’t need to touch the cold sheets on the other side of the bed to know that Sage wasn’t there. I could feel her absence like a cloak removed from my shoulders.
I found my phone and tapped the screen. Three a.m., the witching hour.
Grabbing a pair of sweatpants for me and a throw blanket for her, I found her where I usually did when she disappeared in the middle of the night—outside on the front porch, drinking coffee, and watching shitty reality shows on her phone.
She didn’t even look up as the door opened, just scooted over on the swinging bench to make room for me.
“What season are you on?” I asked.
“Seven. And can you believe they made three more seasons after this? It’s so bad.”
I tucked the blanket around her lap, then put my arm over her shoulders, bringing her into my side and resting my cheek on her head. She was watching an episode ofThe Arcane Housethat had come out a year or two ago.
A show she claimed to hate but couldn’t stop watching.
The chains on the swinging bench squeaked as we rocked slowly back and forth, the elf on the small screen having a meltdown because someone drank her oat milk. Security cams showed it was the werewolf, a day before the full moon when he’d been feeling a little manic.
Sage still hadn’t told me everything about what had happened between her and Victor. But out here, she was peaceful. Her muscles were relaxed, her expression neutral and unguarded. Small sounds didn’t cause her to flinch.
“I’m going to make some tea. Can I freshen your cup?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. But can you grab me some of those cookies I made today?”
I kissed her on her temple. “Will do.”
The new oven had been installed yesterday. State-of-the-art, gourmet type equipment. And we’d broken it in with Sage’s sugar cookies; a family recipe. Her mom, still shaken herself from living in supposed “witness protection” for the past five years, even came over to help.
She and her familiar agreed that I was very handsome, so naturally they’d become some of my favorite people in Lundaria.
Her dad seemed less convinced. Mostly because I’d, you know, delivered her back to Victor after she’d escaped. Not that I could blame him on that.
