Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-two

That’s Going to Be So Much Fun

MILA

“Are you crying?” Abel asked in a concerned voice as he brushed against her legs.

“No,” Mila sobbed. She bent to pick him up and nuzzled his head.

“Okay, so is that dew streaming down your cheeks?”

“Maybe I’m crying a little bit.”

Abel sighed. “So, you figured it out.”

“Figured out what?”

“About the love potion.”

Indignant, Mila dropped Abel on the kitchen counter. “You knew?”

“I had a suspicion.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“I tried to this morning, but you were in a hurry to leave and I didn’t think the magic would act so swiftly or wreak so much damage already.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m not damaged on top of desperate. Don’t worry.” To distract herself, Mila put the kettle on. She could use a little moonlight tea to ease the nerves.

Abel trotted over to her, following the U-shape of the kitchen until he reached the stove. “I wasn’t saying you were damaged, but clearly, you’re upset. Did something happen with Inquisitor King?”

Mila shrugged. “We kissed, and it was magical… but of course, it wasn’t real . Just part of the love potion enchantment.”

Abel bumped his head against her arm, repeating, “I’m sorry.”

She scratched his chin. “It’s not your fault. You tried to warn me not to brew a love potion. I’m the one who didn’t listen.”

The kettle whistled, and Mila took it off the stove. She poured the hot water into a mug and added a spoon of moonlight dust.

They moved to the couch, Mila sipping her tea and absentmindedly stroking Abby as he curled in her lap.

“Do you know of a way to make the magic wear off faster when it is too late to take an antidote?”

Abel made biscuits on her legs. “I did a little research this morning. The only valid suggestion I found is to stay as far away from the object of your affection as you can.”

Mila chortled at that. “Fat chance of that happening since we’re bound to solve this case together by a magical sentence.”

Abel stopped purring long enough to say, “Then maybe you should petition Judge Templeton to commute your sentence to a different public service.” The cat yawned. “She seemed like a reasonable woman. If you explain the situation to her, she won’t want to force you to spend time with Chief King knowing what we’ve learned.”

“Actually, you’re right.” Mila dropped her mug onto the coffee table and slid out from under the cat.

She retrieved her laptop from her bedroom and went back to the couch to log on to The Department of Magical Justice website on the darknet, the shadow computer network that was accessible only to witches and wizards.

Judge Templeton had no appointments available the next day. She was probably still off for the holidays, but she had a free late-evening slot on the 27th.

Mila let the cursor hover over the button to book the appointment. If she did talk to the judge, it was probable that afterward, she’d never see Riley again. Yeah, Salem was a small town, but she hadn’t met Riley in twenty-nine years and unless she planned on getting arrested on the regular—which she didn’t—they probably wouldn’t cross paths that often, if ever.

The prospect was heartbreaking. But what was the alternative? The attraction she was feeling toward him was too fast and furious to be real. They’d known each other barely a day. She couldn’t be in love with him. The way she was feeling was the potion’s doing. And if the only known cure was not to see him, the sooner she started, the sooner she’d heal.

Mila clicked on the calendar, input her credentials, and locked in the appointment. Then she got ready for bed and cried herself to sleep.

***

The next morning, she was ready well before eight. No matter that she’d decided she wasn’t going to see Riley ever again after tomorrow. That didn’t mean she couldn’t look at least presentable for the last two days they had to spend together.

So she’d gotten up at the crack of dawn to get ready, not that it’d been an effort. Her struggling heart had woken her up with its stilted, painful tempo at six o’clock.

Mila had showered, blow-dried her long hair, and tried her best to keep her makeup subtle but sophisticated. Then, she’d spent a good hour in front of her closet, trying to pick the perfect detective outfit that would be contextually flattering but not too sexy, and professional but still look approachable. She’d landed on a striped wool dress in black and purple. Definitely not intimidating.

In her short time as a private investigator, she’d found people were more prone to be forthcoming if they felt like they could trust you. Scare tactics had never proven a good strategy.

Breakfast had been next. But by the time Riley rang the doorbell, she’d already been sitting on her couch, staring at the front door restlessly for over twenty minutes.

She took a deep breath and put on a brave face as she went to open the door. But nothing could’ve prepared her for the sight of Chief Inquisitor Riley King standing on her doorstep in all his tallish handsomeness.

He was wearing her beanie, the long, heavy coat from last night, and a smile that could melt the snow off the entire neighborhood. He was simply irresistible and equally off-limits.

Mila tried to rein in her emotions and failed spectacularly as she greeted him with a simple, “Hi,” that came out more like a strangled whisper.

Riley kept smiling at her, tilting his head. “Nice outfit,” he said, pointing to her striped sheath dress. “ Very subtle on the witching thing.”

Despite the teasing, Mila smiled. At least one of them could keep their cool and act normal.

“I was going for approachable.” She cleared her throat and took a step back to let him in while she put on her winter gear.

Riley stepped into her apartment and waited patiently for her to get ready.

“Chief King.” Abel sauntered into the hall, displaying a healthy amount of male territoriality.

“Ah, Pawington the III, Esquire. Good to see you again.”

Mila rolled her eyes at the not-so-subtle display of polite hostility and cut it short before it could escalate. “I’m ready.”

Mila crouched to the floor to kiss Abel goodbye and then stepped onto the porch, waiting for Riley to get out as well before locking the door.

As she turned, she found him standing behind her, one arm lifted, offering her a paper cup. He was, in fact, holding a cup in each hand. She’d been so busy admiring his perfect, rugged, sexy face that she hadn’t even noticed the cups until now.

“I brought you a Potentilla Latte,” he said. “I thought we might both use one after last night.”

He was being excruciatingly nice. Mila took the latte only saying, “Thanks.”

But as they walked down her driveway, he bumped shoulders with her. “Come on, just because we can’t kiss, it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Okay, so at least they weren’t avoiding the elephant in the room—or in the front yard—or being awkward about it. That wrenched the first genuine smile out of her since the previous night.

“Or I could still turn you into a toad and solve all my problems.”

The smile he flashed her in response was devastating. “I thought we’d settled on a sea turd.”

And now she was outright guffawing, an undignified sound that raised straight from her belly. “Careful what you wish for, Chief King.”

Ah, as if she could talk. Wishing for a tall, handsome stranger to sweep her off her feet was exactly what had landed her into this mess. Mila sipped on her latte and tried not to think about how it tasted like forbidden love. Or how the warmth of the cup in her hands was nothing compared to the heat Riley’s hands had seared into her skin the previous night. Darn potion.

None of this is real, she repeated to herself for the millionth time since last night.

With that thought clear in her mind, she walked the rest of the way to Riley’s car and got herself inside before he could hold the door open for her. From now on, they were officially colleagues only. He didn’t need to fuss over her.

“I could’ve gotten the door for you,” Riley said as he settled into the driver’s seat.

“Would you have gotten the door for another of your agents?”

Riley didn’t reply, meaning no.

“Then, I’m good,” Mila concluded, taking another sip of delicious latte.

Riley rolled his eyes, and even if she couldn’t hear his thoughts, the gesture clearly read, women! Either that generalization or an impossible woman aimed directly at her.

“Men are equally impossible,” Mila rebuffed.

Riley startled, checking the beanie was properly placed over his head, which made Mila laugh.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t need to read your thoughts to know what you were thanking.”

“Miss Bennet, I see you’re a firecracker right from the morrow.”

Thank gargoyles he hadn’t called her Mila. Just the memory of her name on his lips was enough to make her toes curl and her heart shatter a little.

Still, Mila collected herself and was optimistic she’d be able to act like a functioning witch and speak in a normal tone from now on. Even if she was a total mess on the inside, having broken the ice with a little banter made her feel more confident in her abilities to fake it until she made it.

“So, who are we going to interrogate first?” she asked.

He threw her a side glance as if he was ready to call bullshit at her nonchalant tone, but soon his eyes flickered back to the road and he answered her. “I thought the angry soccer mom would be our best bet.”

Mila nodded in agreement. “Oh, that’s going to be so much fun.”

Riley’s mouth tilted up at the corners, and Mila did her best not to think how wickedly good that same mouth had felt on hers as he devoured her. Or about the trail of fire those same lips had left on her jaw and neck and collarbone as he’d kissed his way down her body.

And, once again, she was failing miserably…