Page 30 of Werewolves and Witches AU

Milo’s fallen asleep on the sofa with his boots on. Thankfully, they aren’t anywhere near as dirty as Tuesday’s. Shrugging, I turn back to Delilah, a question about why I needed to come out here and witness this poised on the tip of my tongue.

“Look closely,” he advises, indicating the sleeping witch with a quick flick of his fingers.

Humouring him, I look again. Milo’s leather jacket is bunched up under his chin, and the metal studs that press indents into his jaw and cheek match the surgical steel of his septum ring. Despite all his piercings, it’s hard not to notice how even and delicate his features are—almost like one of those fae princes on the covers of the books my sister Raina likes to read. Aside from possessing an ethereal beauty, I don’t see what… Wait.

I step closer and crouch down low. Offset by approximately an inch is a second Milo, who hovers just above him and glows softly. An apparition—I’ve never seen anything like it.

“He fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago,” Delilah informs, matter-of-factly. “This…” He motions the length of Milo. “Started as a faint white light, as if he’d left his phone torch on. He hasn’t. My wolf and I have been monitoring him since. His vitals present on two different levels simultaneously—one like he’s in a deep sleep, and the other like the manifestation of a night terror.”

Instinctively, I reach out to gently rouse him, but Delilah clicks his tongue.

“There’s an eighty-one percent chance that if you wake him, it could end in violence.”

I withdraw my hand.

“He’s a hedge witch—alone—has been since before he should have graduated. Bear couldn’t find a skills profile on him in the Witches Council’s database. We don’t know his capabilities.”

Without taking my eyes from Milo, I raise an eyebrow at that interesting bit of information. Still, I don’t like it; I can’t just leave him to have a night terror. “So, there’s a nineteen percent chance that everything’ll be fine?”

“Not fine. There’s still a significant chance it’ll end in tears. I don’t do tears. Or any bodily fluids.” Delilah shudders.

I laugh.

Milo twitches.

Holding my hand just above ghost-Milo, I encourage my wolf forward. “He’s cold. Really cold.”

Behind his eyelids, ghost-Milo’s eyes move rapidly.

I keep my voice to a whisper when I ask, “Everything he said checks out?”

Peripherally, I catch Delilah’s nod. “He seems legit. Was registered in the local Academy for the gifted until his parents died when he was a teen. He hops around from job to job trying to make ends meet. Has some savings from an inheritance, but hasn’t touched them. Lived at the same address for a while now, boarding-house type situation.”

I scrub my hand over my face. There’s a possibility this is connected to the financial reward put out by our Intelligence Corps, but then why deny any knowledge of the Luna del Lupo?

“There’s an Office of Time in Italy,” Delilah continues. “Ancient. Used to be much bigger and hold more importance than it does now. They’re credited with installing calendar time. Fascinating, actually, because the whole point of that was for tax adjustment and collection. Allowed their allies longer terms in—”

“Delilah?”

“Yeah, Ranger?”

“Not now, eh?”

“Yes, Ranger.” Delilah turns, tracking a route back to his perch by the window, and distancing himself from the possibility of body fluids.

“Oh, and Delilah? Milo can’t go back to his home until we’ve cleared it. Without him knowing, ye and the others will go and scope it out this afternoon—collect the truck while yer at it. Enter however ye think is best, search everything. If he’s withholding intel, then I want ye to find it.”

“You make it sound like you’re not coming with us.”

“I’m not. I’m going to let Milo have some freedom. Can’t have him thinking he’s a hostage now, can we? We can be hospitable. Bear cloned his phone, so we’ll have a log of everything he says and everywhere he goes. And while he’s out, doing whatever witches do, I’m going to call the General’s Office and have a nice wee chat about how intelligence should be… intelligent.”

Delilah snorts, and right as I’m about to shake Milo awake by his shoulder, those crystal-grey eyes open wide. I pause, braced. We don’t know what his capabilities are. Violence? Tears? Magic?

Milo stretches out long, yawns wide, smiles, and asks, “Is it brunch?”

Delilah scoffs in disbelief. “One in a million.”

Smirking at Milo’s just-woken-up face, I nod and push up to standing. “Aye, Pup. It’s brunch.” I scratch the back of my neck, a little embarrassed at having been caught watching him sleep. “Ye’ll have to tell me about yer ghost form, too. Ye worried our wolves a bit.”