Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

I Want to Get Away, I Want to Fly Away

RILEY

Riley woke up with a splitting headache and not nearly rested enough. Still, he didn’t linger in bed. He got up, scrambled some eggs for breakfast, and popped two Advil—sometimes human remedies were just as functional as magical ones.

The moment his head stopped throbbing so much, he took his broomstick, wrapped himself in a warming spell, and went for a spin over the snowed-in town. Flying always made him feel better, more clear-headed. And today, he had many thoughts he wanted to purge from his brain—all revolving around a certain green-eyed witch with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind.

But as he soared above the trees, Riley’s thoughts inevitably drifted back to Mila. He glided over the small houses with their warm, glowing windows, and all he could see was her glowing skin. Instead of the cold misty air, her scent lingered in his nostrils, and her melodic laugh still echoed inside his skull.

A stronger gust of wind whipped through his hair, and his thoughts finally scattered like dandelion seeds carried by the breeze. For a moment, he lived only in the present, absorbed in the sensation of flight.

But as he flew on, his thoughts started to coalesce once more. First, the image of Mila’s stunned expression when he’d offered her the time-stretch pill. And then, more vivid images of her soft body that he was only partly to blame for having.

That was the other thing that nagged at him, their telepathic bond. It was highly unusual. And while he couldn’t do any case work without Mila by his side, as per her magical sentencing, he sure could investigate the reason their minds were linked.

He veered the broomstick toward his mother’s house, hoping to find some answers in the vast collection of magical tomes Glenda had in her home library. As he landed on her front porch, Riley took a moment to compose himself, shaking off the strange mix of emotions Mila had stirred in him. The last thing he needed was for his mother to get on his case.

Still, as Glenda came to open the door, she gave him an unusually long stare. “Riley, you’re early. Lunch isn’t ready yet.”

“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas.” He pulled her in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Do you mind if I have a look in the library while we wait?”

“Not at all.” She opened the door wide and let him in.

Riley gave her another kiss and went ahead to the library.

He knew exactly what section he needed to look at and went straight there, scanning the spines until he found what he was looking for. The book was old, with yellowed pages and a musty smell. He scanned the index with his finger, mentally noting the two chapters he was most interested in. The one explaining why mental bonds would form and the one giving instructions on how to block them.

Screening his thoughts from Mila seemed like the most pressing matter, so he read that chapter first and ended just as frustrated as he’d started. The book drawled on for pages, but in the end, it gave Riley the long answer to what Mila had already told him: he needed patience and lots of practice.

He was about to dwell into the section detailing the possible reasons for his mind link with Mila—the only one he had studied in school was kinship—when his mother called him to the table.

Riley sat at his usual spot opposite Myron with his mom in the middle. As they started eating, he couldn’t help but notice the atmosphere had a weird charge. Glenda and Myron kept exchanging glances and eyebrow arches as if they were conducting an entirely separated conversation that excluded him. Riley was pretty sure they didn’t share a telepathic bond, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling they were discussing something in code, and, even more ominously, that the something had to do with him.

“How was work last night?” his mom finally asked.

A hell-pit show, he wanted to say, but his mother wasn’t fond of swear words so he just shrugged and said, “Oh, you know, the usual.”

Glenda sliced through a piece of leftover turkey from last night with her knife. “Wasn’t it a murder case you were called on?”

“Attempted murder.” Riley scooped up some mashed potatoes. “And it turns out the case is one-hundred percent human, but an unfortunate amount of magic was involved, so now I’m stuck with it, anyway.”

Glenda and Myron exchanged another stare, and the raccoon asked, “Were there any arrests?”

Riley gulped down a sip of starlight cider before answering. “Yeah, but the witch was innocent,” he said, thinking of Mila.

His mom smirked at that. “Was she by any chance beautiful, single, and of witchlings-bearing age?”

Mila definitely was all three things, but Riley would be damned before he admitted any of that to his mother. She’d jump at the chance to matchmake and plan the wedding before he had even sorted his feelings toward Mila.

He took the easy way out. “I don’t think so, since the victim was her daughter’s drama teacher.”

Glenda’s face fell. “And she was the only arrest you made?”

That was a weird question. Proceedings were sealed, and Glenda had no way of knowing he had, in fact, made two arrests last night. What was going on? The look on his mother’s face was too intense, too keen almost.

A sinking feeling lodged into the pit of his stomach. “Mom, why are you asking that?”

“Oh, no reason.” She flipped her long, white hair nonchalantly. “The Herald mentioned something about multiple suspects.”

Something in her tone was definitely too casual, and since when did Glenda King read the Witchly Herald?

A sense of doom hit Riley in the chest, and he narrowed his eyes at his mother. “Mom, what did you see in my reading last night?”

“Nothing,” she answered way too fast.

Years as a law enforcer and an experienced interrogator had taught Riley to smell a lie from a mile away. “Nothing? Is my future a black cloud of midnight dust, then? Because I’d rather know if I’m going to drop dead tomorrow.”

“No one’s dying.” Glenda reached out and squeezed his arm over the table.

Riley remained skeptical. “Then what did you see?”

His mother looked him straight in the eye. “Only good things, sweet pumpkin. I promise.”

The words were meant to be reassuring but they had the opposite effect, and the sense of unease that had been accompanying Riley all day intensified. Especially since it was almost time to go pick up Mila Bennet.