Chapter Eighteen

Chaos. Pure and foul. The crunch of death that littered the ground only added to my growing headache. I huffed. Maybe I was being a bit dramatic as I eyed students stomping about, crushing the withered leaves that started to fall, but getting them organized for this field trip was a disaster. They completely broke apart from their groups and reformed into a huge blob one might mistakenly call a crowd. Whichever administrator had the bright idea of sending all the second-years down to the buses at the same time instead of calling homerooms one by one could go fuck themself. Hard.

Rounding students up was worse than herding cats. At least with Charlie and Carlie, I knew what to expect. Not my homeroom students. Oh no, they delighted in surprising me with new trends. The Gaels were usually my go-tos when it came to leading the class single-file anywhere we went on campus, but Kenzo was having none of that—so he tore Gael away, and they wandered toward the back of the line, which quickly deteriorated once Gael Rios-Vega spotted Tiffany and abandoned our class.

Caleb had many talents, but leading the class line wasn’t one of them. He absentmindedly bumped into a few students from another class while reading from one of his textbooks. Katherine, Melanie, and Layla had wandered off to a large group of girls who all couldn’t be bothered to muster even a modicum of enthusiasm. Not sure if they were all actually so above a boring office field trip or if a few dominant minds hadn’t led the charge to enjoying anything educational automatically resulted in losing cool credit or whatever the fuck bounced around Layla’s head as she cemented herself in the center of the group with Chanelle’s top-hitter Amani.

I made my way to the bus with the only three students who bothered following my directions: Carter, Jennifer, and Jamius. Everyone else slowly drifted through the sea of second-year students using this time to talk to friends outside of class, plan ways to switch which bus they were assigned, or simply waste time—successfully, I might add—since it ensured we’d be back late, and they wouldn’t have to attend an afternoon class.

Cerberus had sent the acolytes to help organize the students even though most stood idle as teachers wrangled students. And I mean every acolyte at their guild, even the ones assigned to enchanters who’d refused to hand over their charges for the purpose of instruction. Well, not everyone. Per usual, Acolyte Russo was late. He’d probably get to campus by the time we arrived at Cerberus. Then again, the chaos would certainly delay our departure. Acolyte Novak and Reed each positioned themselves by our bus. At least Reed greeted the students when they hopped on; Novak simply scowled, clearly aggravated she’d been put on babysitting duty.

Seeing the acolytes ignited my concerns for Milo. Since our conversation, he’d spent nearly all his time working, looking for a threat I wasn’t entirely sure existed. Wishful thinking on my part. Today of all days, I desperately wanted Enchanter Evergreen to be wrong. I hoped Theodore pled guilty and saved everyone the horror of reliving his actions through a lengthy trial. I hoped whatever person stalked Milo’s clairvoyance proved to be a figment of an overworked guild witch who simply needed another vacation.

I contemplated sending a stick emoji or grilled meat, but neither properly conveyed the pun, but after a week of him working, planning contingencies, avoiding me, I wanted to send more than just a question.

“ This is going to take for-fucking-ever. ” Chanelle sighed, making her way to the bus we were sharing. “We’re supposed to leave in ten minutes. Does no one read my emails?”

“Pretty sure it’s that none of the kids actually listened when we told them which bus to get on.” I stuffed my phone into my pocket. No sense waiting for a message that wouldn’t arrive.

“Listen up, everyone,” Chanelle shouted in some futile effort to draw attention. It didn’t work. Not with six hundred students roaming all over the parking lot.

I could abandon her, sneak off for a cigarette because I had more than enough time for a smoke given the sluggish rate the students moved at, yet I had this annoying nagging chord that struck. Was this empathy? For Chanelle’s plans gone awry? Ugh. I shuddered. It was fucking awful.

“ Listen up. ” I linked my telepath to about thirty kids. “ Right now, we’re trying to file onto the buses. The longer you take to get on the bus, the longer I’m going to have to stay inside your head, pestering you to follow the directions. Do you want me in your head? Pretty sure about half of you are a moment away from thinking about that really embarrassing time you did something you definitely don’t want your history teacher—who has a long memory—to know about. ”

After a handful of frightened gulps, a half dozen eyerolls, and hearing the word cringe muttered more times than I could count, as well as one very loud “fuck you,” I abandoned their minds and sent the same message to a second group of students.

Rinse and repeat my meanest telepathic voice, and in a matter of five minutes, I’d wrangled every student onto their assigned bus.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Chanelle raised her hand to high-five me, convinced she’d pulled this off with her teacher voice. “You know, you could’ve helped.”

I simply frowned at her and got onto the bus.

The bus filled up with mine and Chanelle’s students. My head hurt from linking to everyone’s mind, even in batches, so I let Chanelle take attendance.

“Whoa, you got a tattoo?” Jamius asked, eyeing Gael, who stood in the seat beside his as he scrolled through his phone.

“Yep. King Clucks knows a guy.” Gael grinned. “Best. Birthday. Present. Ever.”

“Please tell me this wasn’t some basement parlor.” I groaned, having the misfortune of sitting within earshot.

“Of course not.” Gael beamed. “Only the best right here.”

“You’re sixteen. Who’s gonna give you a tattoo?” I glowered, resigned not to search for an answer as Gael’s thoughts twisted into the absurd.

“What’d you get?” Carter asked.

“Where’s it at?” Jamius followed up.

“Kind of hard to show in my uniform, but I’ve got pics.”

I turned away as Jamius, Carter, Harrison, and a handful of other students all moved in closer, hanging over their seats, to see the tattoo. A decision they’d undoubtedly regret based on the minxy surface thoughts weaving around Gael’s head.

“Dude!” Jamius shouted. “The hell?”

“Why?” Harrison fought the intense urge to throw a potion in his eyes, but that wouldn’t wash away the memory forever seared in his thoughts.

“It’s just a picture of your ass.” Carter laughed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“No, my tattoo’s right there. See.”

“I’m not looking,” Jamius said.

“It’s a snowflake,” Gael clarified.

“And why do you have a snowflake on your butt?” Carter asked.

“So anyone lucky enough to see me in all my glory knows this ass is one of a kind.”

Too many students started laughing, almost as loud as the rooster’s clucks of validation, which further heightened Gael’s need for attention. This was going to be a long day.

“Man, Enchanter Evergreen’s not even gonna be here!” Gael Martinez pouted; the light of his phone reflected against the spikes on his face as they swelled from his deepened frown.

“What’re you talking about?” Gael flung himself across the aisle, legs planted on his seat as his arms braced his position on the back of another seat while his body stretched across the bus like the worst fucking cat so he could snoop at Gael’s phone.

“Enchant Track says he’s all the way on the West Side.”

The West Side, more specifically outside the Metropolitan Detainment Center, where he awaited Theodore Whitlock’s departure to the courthouse.

“That app’s always wrong.” Gael gestured, almost falling as he released one hand, but he caught himself just before plummeting face-first onto the aisle of the bus. “Besides, he could make that flight in five minutes flat.”

“I think he’s working a case, which means no Evergreen.” Gael sighed; utter disappointment followed his heavy exhale. “ ?Qué sentido tiene ir si Evergreen no está allí? ”

“Sucks, but at least there’ll still be some cool enchanters there, including Guild Master Campbell.” Gael grinded while keeping himself braced on the seats, thoughts twisting into the completely perverse as his imagination of Campbell ran wild.

I flicked my hand, telekinetically gripping Gael, who panicked when he suddenly floated above the seats, limbs flailing. His rooster clucked furiously, half-convinced Gael dared levitate in his presence—which was a reminder I still needed to find a solution for that issue—but Gael’s protests made it clear this wasn’t his doing.

“There are safety precautions in place for a reason, Gael.” I shifted my hand, sending him plopping back into his seat. “The next time you think about climbing over seats, don’t!”

The jostle of the bus made me queasy, and gripping the leather of the seat didn’t ease the ride. It didn’t take long for my telepathy to wander, seeking a reprieve from the bustle of the bus, seeking answers on Enchanter Evergreen’s case.

I eagerly followed the thread, wanting to know Milo was doing well since our conversation.

I blinked. Fire and blood flooded my vision, a filter of carnage painting a frame of death over all the students on the bus. Tensing, I tried to settle my frantic nerves as they synced to Milo’s muscles. His body was stiff and unmoving. I couldn’t hear his thoughts. I couldn’t hear any thoughts as the tether that bound us over such a distance snagged and tightened.

Gasping for breath, I quelled my telepathy.

Where was Milo? What was happening to him?

“Are you okay, Mr. Frost?” Jamie Novak had this pained sincerity in his eyes as he was the only student not lost in conversation or music or staring at their phone.

I looked at his concerned expression, watching the filter of blood and flame shift into a splotchy, tarlike image.

“I’m fine.” I turned away, delving deeper into the hollow thoughts around me, snapping this horrible link so I could see more.

I hovered above the empty mind that’d reeled my magic close, terrified of what had befallen Milo. Taking a shaky breath, I exhaled with relief once the face I hovered above revealed itself. This wasn’t Milo. It wasn’t anyone I knew.

My telepathy ached, testing the limitations of this bizarre bond to some random person in a small white room. Demonic energy poured out of his nose, mouth, ears, and eyes and oozed down his chest, where I saw the glimmer of a name tag before tar ate away at it.

Ronald Kowalski.

Who the hell was that? And why was my telepathy latched to his mind?

Clenching my teeth, I resisted leaving. I couldn’t abandon this witch, this place, until I understood why my telepathy had gone haywire and attached itself to some unknown mind in such a horrid state. It wasn’t easy; it was like the push of magnets from the same pole fighting against making contact. I’d never experienced such a force when linking to a mind. It actively tried to push my telepathy away. It was like someone or something identified my specific frequency and didn’t want me here. Wherever here was.

Searching my surroundings, I saw several broken sigils lining the walls. Warding magic was meant to prevent casting. Perhaps that was where the pounding pulse against my telepathy stemmed. They were damaged but still functional in the most chaotic sense. I couldn’t gain my bearings, searching for the source that had invited my magic from across the city.

This outstretched link, pulled far beyond its limits, had become a familiar sensation since I’d learned about the development in my branch when syncing to Milo’s mind, yet this bond offered no comfort from the tumultuous world.

“ Well, well, well. ” The eerie hum of the most hateful mind I’d ever experienced rang through my head. “ I knew there was something familiar about your telepathy. I never forget a psychic’s touch. ”

I spun around this blood and tar-splattered room, my vision fluttering in every direction and making it difficult to navigate, to ground myself, to comprehend the carnage. Carnage. That was what this was. Three slaughtered bodies lay strewn on the floor, including the one my telepathy connected to—somehow, impossibly. A swarm of tiny fiends crawled along the walls; they devoured the magic dripping from the sigils, they lapped at the blood spilling onto the floor, and they tore apart the hinges of the bolted doors on either side. Finally, my mind settled, the swirling round and round ceased, and my sight rippled around the most terrifying warlock I’d ever encountered.

Theodore Whitlock.

I hovered behind him, watching the destruction he commanded while simultaneously finding myself buried inside a corpse beneath the fiend that’d burst from the chest and now gnawed on broken bones protruding outward.

My chest tightened like I was drowning in the tar funneling out of the guard. Every attempt to figure out what was going on, see more inside this room, and escape this bizarre, rippled effect on my sight was met with splotchy black spots.

Sludge obscured my vision, yet my line of sight bounced back and forth like staring at Theodore between a set of mirrors infinitely reflecting their image off each other. It was like my telepathy had collided in on itself while collapsing all at once.

What the fuck was happening? I hadn’t experienced anything like this since summoning a manifestation, the two of us staring back at one another, but this wasn’t that. It couldn’t be since I no longer had the ability to create extensions of my branch in such a way.

Theodore stood tall with a proud smile on his face as he turned around, facing my psychic presence. “ Do you remember the sweet embrace of my mind, Dorian Frost? ”

He reached out, touching the empty air, searching for my magic that’d sought him above all else. Milo was right. Theodore had horrible plans; his surface thoughts were painted with murder and mayhem and such unbearable hatred it almost broke my mind, staring into the abyss of his being.

“Dorian.” The touch frightened me as if he would grab my telepathy in the air before him and steal me, drag me to where he was, kill me. “Dorian.”

Chanelle shook me. “Dorian. Christ. You listening?”

I blinked away the image of Theodore, finding my magic completely quelled as I returned to the bus, which had stopped. All the students had filed off, and only Chanelle remained.

“I-I need to make a call.” I fished my phone out of my pocket. “I’ll be inside soon.”

“You okay?” Chanelle quirked a brow.

“Yeah, just a headache.”

“Take your time.” She strutted down the aisle to exit the bus, turning with a second-guessing look before shifting back true to form. “But don’t hide out here the whole time. No slacking or pawning your tour group off to someone else.”

Chanelle played it cool, yet I already glimpsed her piecing together rearrangements for who to send my group with. She’d split everyone up into small groups with either a teacher or acolyte chaperone so we could tour the facility in sections without six hundred kids piling on top of each other in one room at a time. Not that sending six hundred students off in different directions helped much.

My call went straight to voicemail.

There was one way I could contact Milo to ensure he knew what Theodore had done, but the idea of accidentally linking to Theodore and tasting death in my mouth again sent an unnerving tremble through my body. I steadied the terror, the horror. It didn’t make sense why my telepathy latched to Theodore in the first place. Maybe it had to do with how much concern I really carried about the warlock, the trial, everything I ignored, and repressed trauma bubbling to the surface demanding answers.

I swallowed every ounce of trepidation and cast a wide net of telepathy across the city, ignoring the sea of minds. Once I’d spotted Milo’s frequency, the calm in the storm, I tightened my branch and synced to him.

He walked out of the MDC unscathed, unconcerned, and unhappy. Not what I expected to find, but the aggravation he carried outweighed the horrors I’d seen minutes earlier. Milo—correction, Enchanter Evergreen—eyed the team of enchanters he’d assembled outside the MDC. They stood posted in the back of the building, surrounding the armored van meant to transport Theodore to the courthouse.

Casting his sensory, Milo searched for nearby demonic energy. “Did you all handle the fiends summoned?”

“For the most part. A few skittered away, but I’ll get my acolytes to patrol the area later,” an enchanter said with a sour tone, completely unfazed by the events that had unfolded and coping an attitude with Enchanter Evergreen. “You know, after that field trip you and Campbell dragged them away for.”

“Find the demonic energy and remove it now.” The curtness in Milo’s voice held a sharp edge.

“It’s just a few fiends.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want a damn thing Theodore Whitlock conjured stepping foot in the city.” Milo balled a fist but released the building rage by casting another wave of sensory in the surrounding area, ready and willing to finish the job.

Rolling his eyes, the enchanter flew off with another person to scour the neighborhood for tiny fiends that he didn’t believe would pose any more threat than a handful of wisps.

“ Are you okay? ” I called out, unable to observe Milo in silence a second longer.

“ Figured you’d be attaching yourself to my thoughts today. ” A natural, carefree smirk crept from the corners of Milo’s cheeks. “ Guess you’re more obsessed than you tried to play it off. ”

“ I know— ”

“ Theodore tried something, which I suspected. Campbell tried to get us in the MDC as escorts, but the warden made assurances his team could handle it. ” Milo’s expression and mind went blank, suppressing the bodies he walked in on, but I filled in the pieces from my own encounter. “ There were injuries, to say the least. ”

“ You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I saw what he did. ”

“ And here I thought I was keeping the gory details under wraps. ”

I didn’t know how to tell him my mind had linked to Theodore Whitlock. Well, not his exactly. I couldn’t make much sense of it right now.

“ Theodore didn’t think this through. ” Milo’s thoughts pulled me from my own. “ The fiends he summoned weren’t enough to face one enchanter, let alone the team I had. The only real shocking part of today was that he surrendered without putting up a fight. ”

That didn’t sit well with Milo, believing the arrogance of a warlock who challenged a city surely wouldn’t give up because the odds were stacked against him. Yet, Milo took solace in the fact Theodore’s actions had now left him boxed in isolation behind a hundred different layers of warding sigils without a chance of leaving for his court hearing. Whatever moment of hesitation struck Theodore Whitlock when confronted by enchanters outside the MDC had ended this threat before it ever truly became one.

“ Relax, Dorian. Enjoy the field trip, ” Milo thought. “ Theodore’s been detained. ”

Nothing involving Theodore Whitlock would ever allow me to relax.