23. Epilogue

Epilogue

Callum

One Year Later…

Derek grunted as he dropped the moving box at his feet. It landed with a loud thud, and I winced, hoping there wasn't anything valuable or breakable in it.

"Michael," Derek wiped his dusty palms on his denim covered thighs, "I know you're a lawyer, but do you have to have all these law books? They're heavy as fuck. Read a paperback like a normal person. Better yet, buy a Kindle. Fuck, I'll buy you one for Christmas." He straightened, then winced, his hand rubbing his lower back. "I'm too fucking old for this moving nonsense. Tell me again why you didn't hire movers?"

Michael placed the box he'd been carrying down on the floor, but I didn't miss the wince he tried to hide from his friend when he straightened his own back. "I did hire movers. You. I'm paying you with pizza and beer. And a guest room to sleep in so you don't have to drive back to the city tonight. Ingrate."

Grinning at them both, I slid a box over between my legs where I sat on the couch and began unpacking it. The room we were in was going to be Michael's office, and I carefully sat the impressive looking hardback law books on the floor beside me.

So much had happened in the past year I still had to pinch myself some days, so I knew it was all real. My mind drifted over everything that had happened, while I continued to unpack the box.

Michael had been correct about the Marcone case. The Feds had swooped in and whisked Francesco away to await trial in a federal prison. The man had charges against him as long as my arm, but Michael figured they'd end up plea bargaining a ton of them down. Either way, I hoped we never had to see the man again.

Thankfully, his co-worker, Shelby, had been located in the same warehouse they had taken us to, and other than being roughed up a little, she was physically fine. It had shaken her up though and she had resigned shortly after, and frankly, no one blamed her.

Our kidnapping and near-death experience had also unnerved Michael. It had rattled both of us, but it had really caused Michael to rethink some things. Mainly his career, where it was going, and what he wanted for his future.

Seems he wanted me for his future.

My eyes strayed to the spark from the thin silver and amethyst band on my left hand, when the sunlight streaming in from the window hit it. It was still new and strange seeing it there, but every time I did, I couldn't help the huge grin that broke out across my face as I remembered that day.

I loved that Michael had researched and gotten the ring in silver and not white gold, which he had admitted was his first choice. When he realized that witches believed silver to be a symbol of the moon, that it had the ability to repel evil spirits, and was often used in magical spells and could enhance psychic abilities, he had quickly decided to commission the ring in silver.

Michael had proposed a little over a month ago, nearly a year to the day he had walked into my shop. And he'd done it in the middle of the Witch Memorial while I'd been helping Macy with a tour. I'd been placing flowers on the benches, and when I had turned around Michael had been down on one knee, holding out a ring box. There had been more than just our walking tour going on at the time, but most people's attention had been glued to Michael and me. I'd been so stunned I had nearly sat down on the bench I had just placed a flower on.

I had barely heard anything he had said to me, my heart pounding so wildly in my ears it had drowned out all other sounds. I do remember nodding, my hands over my mouth, and happiness flowing through my body as he slipped the ring on my finger. Pulled me up and into his arms and kissed me within an inch of my life, in front of everyone. Cheers had erupted around us, but I'd only had eyes for the man I loved.

Macy, cheering the loudest, had rushed over, hugging me tight. Declaring that yes, she absolutely would be my Best Person at our wedding, before I had even asked.

He'd surprised me with more than just a proposal that night. Taking my hand, he had led me a few streets over to Washington Square, to a large, newly renovated, Queen Anne Victorian. It was painted light gray with white trim, and he'd tugged me up to the wrap around porch. When he had pulled out a key, I could do nothing more than gawk at him, speechless. Ushering me into the grand foyer, woodwork gleaming around us, I had gazed around me with wide eyes.

"I bought it," Michael stated the obvious, and all I could do was nod and gulp. "I know it's big, probably bigger than we need, but hear me out."

"Oh, I'm listening," I had mumbled, walking slowly through each updated room. The house was stunning, completely modernized, but the previous owners had–thankfully–kept all the original woodwork and built-ins. Everything sparkled around us, and I fell in love with it instantly.

"It's six bedrooms and four and a half baths, with space for my office," he tugged me through the gorgeous kitchen, to a pair of French doors that led to outdoor space. There were already two nice sized garden boxes waiting for next spring. "I thought we could try our hands at planting some veg, or maybe some herbs? I don't know. But there's a two-car garage, and an amazing sunken tub off the master, and…"

Wandering the fenced area, I smiled as he tried to point out all the house's wonderful selling points. "It's beautiful, Michael."

He looked unsure of himself. "I know we should have done this together–house hunting–but my mom sent me this listing from a realtor friend of hers, and I just knew this was our house, Callum. Let me show you the upstairs."

I let him pull me from room to room, until we stood outside the double doors that led to the master bedroom. "Close your eyes," Michael insisted, and I laughed, but did as he asked. He was like a kid on Christmas morning, and this was our package we were unwrapping together. Holding my hand, he guided me into the room. "No peeking!"

"I'm not," I laughed, even though I really wanted to.

"Open them up."

Blinking my eyes to take in the room, my mouth fell open in surprise. "It's purple! "

"It's lilac, thank you very much," Michael corrected me, his tone teasing. "As soon as I saw this room in the pictures, I knew I had to see it. We can change whatever we want, but honestly, they did a fantastic job with this house. Maybe some paint, here or there, that is more to our liking, but–"

Framing his face with my hands, I kissed him soundly, shutting him up. "It's perfect just the way it is."

The house hadn't been the only surprise that night. Michael had turned in his resignation, which had shocked me more than being proposed to and having a house bought for me. While he had drastically cut down his hours in the year we had been dating, spending most weekends in Salem, I knew he loved his job. We had never even discussed him quitting, and he hadn't said anything about being unhappy there.

"I've been thinking about it for a while now," he had explained, sitting on the perfectly made king-sized bed of our new house. Taking a seat next to him, I entwined our fingers together between us.

"Really since meeting you and the Marcone thing." Which was what we had taken to calling our kidnapping. The Marcone thing sounded better than when we were kidnapped and thought we were going to die.

"And honestly, I was ready for a change. Working those hours just wasn't what I wanted anymore." He brought our hands up and kissed the back of my hand. "My time belongs to you. To the life we are building."

"But–" It all seemed so sudden, and I worried he was making decisions he was going to regret. Michael loved the city, his condo, and despite what he said, I knew he loved working on those high-profile cases, and seeing justice served.

He shook his head. "No buts, Callum, and no regrets. I have been wanting to make changes for months. I hate it when we are apart. I can't sleep in my condo when you aren't there." He snickered derisively, "Which is funny, considering that me not being able to sleep with someone is what led to us meeting. I asked to cut back at work, to not be assigned so many cases, and Harry nodded and then would hand me five more. It's just not what I want anymore. I love the law, that won't ever change, and I still want to fight for victims, but in a different way. I'm going to open my own practice, right here in Salem. Actually, I plan to have my office here in the house to see clients. I think I'd like to do family law for a bit, see how that feels. I talked it over with my Dad, and while he's still a little bummed that I refuse to go into corporate law, he's happy to have me back home, and practicing what makes me happy."

Giving him a warm smile, I caressed his cheek. "I think that sounds amazing. I know you're going to be wonderful. "

"And, best of all, I managed to sweet talk Maggie into coming with me and being my office manager here. Though there won't be much to manage, besides me."

I was startled out of my memories by the slamming of the front door, and Daphne declaring loudly, "I'm here! And I brought the sage!"

Michael's eyes went wide, and he whispered, "Sage?"

Shrugging, I listened as Daphne wandered the downstairs rooms. "If we stay really quiet, she might not find us."

Derek snort laughed, then asked, "Who is she and why does she have sage?"

Shaking my head, I muttered, "It's what she does. And that's my sister."

The house didn't need to be saged–I'd done it two days ago while Michael had been taking care of some last-minute things in Boston–and there weren't any lingering spirits about.

Well, besides the two chambermaids from the turn of the century, but I rarely saw them, and they weren't a bother. I had wisely not told Michael that our house–gah, I loved saying that!–was occupied by two ghosts. I loved this house, and while he had come around to all things witchy, I wasn't sure where he stood on ghosts and really didn't want to find out. At least not until we had unpacked everything and lived here a while .

I had filed the ghosts under things he really didn't need to know about. Like when Jessica would stop by the shop to have me read her cards and I wouldn't charge her. That definitely went in the Michael-doesn't-need-to-know file.

But Daph was gonna do what Daph did, so we were now getting a second house saging.

Derek wrinkled his nose as the scent of burning sage drifted into the room. Neither Michael nor I missed how Derek's brown eyes lit up with blatant interest as my sister pranced into the room, black waves of hair bouncing around her shoulders.

Daphne stopped short at the sight of Derek, cocking her head to one side, and giving him a top-to-bottom look that was slightly disturbing.

"Please stop eye fucking our friend," I ordered, frowning. "It's super rude."

Finally tearing her eyes from Derek, she tossed her hair over one shoulder. "No one likes a cock blocker, Callum."

Derek, poor fool that he was, looked absolutely besotted with my sister. Michael ran one hand down his face, speechless. Though after a year, he really shouldn't be surprised by anything Daphne said or did.

Putting the still burning sage in her stone smudge bowl, Daphne deposited it on Michael's ridiculously expensive desk. Then to all our complete surprise–and horror–she grabbed Derek by the front of his dirty, sweaty t-shirt, pulled him flush to her, and kissed the man senseless .

Stepping back from the stunned detective, she waved her hand over him then ran the same hand down his chest.

"Hi, I'm Daphne. Callum's much wiser, younger sister. And who might you be?" She purred, holding her hand in the air in front of him, like she was expecting him to take it, bow, and kiss the top of it.

Michael made a what-the-fuck face at me, his hands flopping wildly in the air in front of him.

"Older sister," I corrected her dryly, rolling my eyes at Derek. "She is my older sister."

Daphne shook her head, dropping her voice to a stage whisper, "Callum can't do math. Don't listen to him."

"Daphne," I said slowly, narrowing my eyes at her when I felt what she had done, "remove it."

She pouted prettily, while Derek grasped her hand lightly in his and introduced himself. "I'm Derek. Michael's best friend."

"Daph–" I warned her, pointing my finger, "remove it now."

Derek looked confused, his eyes traveling from Michael, to Daphne, to me, and back to my slyly smiling sister. "Remove what? What's going on?"

"Ummm," Michael hedged, looking at me for help.

"You're no fun, Callum," Daphne pouted prettily. "Besides, he needs it."

"Remove. It. Now. "

"No!" She stamped her foot, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, causing my glasses to go slightly askew.

"Don't make me call Mom," I warned, "because you know I will."

"Oh my God, Callum, you are such a little tattletale!"

"Learned from the best. If you don't remove it, I will," I warned her, and she snort laughed.

"As if you could."

"My…I can so!" I huffed.

Michael winced, "Baby, I love you, but please don't. You're better, but things still go a bit…" he glanced at Derek whose head was swiveling so fast keeping up with the conversation he very well might end up with whiplash, "sideways. And this is Derek. He's like a brother to me, so maybe just…don't."

"Nothing has gone sideways," I assured him, knowing that wasn't quite the whole truth. My spell casting was better, but some days…well, we just wouldn't talk about that.

Michael made a face. "Is that why I spent an ungodly amount of time on the internet trying to find a replacement for your favorite mug when you…" he pressed his lips together, choosing his words carefully, "dropped it…because it was hot. Not to mention poor Hex's singed tail. From you dropping it."

Oof, he just had to remind me of that. Yeah, I may have been lazy the other morning when my coffee had grown cold and waved my hand over it to warm it back up. Flames had shot up a foot high, my favorite mug had shattered, coffee had gone all over me, the counter, and somehow the fur on the tip of Hex's tail had been a little worse for wear.

Derek was starting to look suitably concerned. "Seriously, what's going on?"

Daphne beamed at him, "You mean besides you getting the best kiss of your life?" She ran her hand down his chest then back up, petting him.

"Please stop petting my friend," Michael begged.

Derek–poor dumb bewitched man–gazed at my sister with cartoon heart eyes. "If this is how people say hello in Salem, I'm going to visit all the time. But I need to know what Callum is going on about."

Daphne sighed dramatically, tilting her head, and batting her lashes up at him. Gah, if I never had to watch my sister flirt again that would be great. "Oh nothing. Just a teeny tiny protection spell. I need to keep you safe before our first date."

Derek looked alarmed, "A what now?"

Daph shrugged, "It's really nothing. It will just keep you safe. You can pick me up next Friday at seven."

"Michael?" Derek finally broke out from whatever trance, or pheromones, my sister was putting out in the world, sounding properly worried.

"Callum?" Michael questioned me, his facial expression saying all the words he wasn't .

"Oh, just tell him," Daphne huffed, "it's Salem for fucks sake. Half this town's population are witches. He's going to find out eventually."

Derek blinked, his face going pale, and he whispered, "Witches?"

"Um, well, you see…" Michael hedged, and Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I'm a witch." Daphne looked over at me, "And so is Callum. And our mom and Gran. It's not that big a thing."

"Michael?" Derek looked like he needed to sit down.

Michael nodded, "You'll get used to it."

"I'd be more concerned about the two ghosts you have hanging out in the foyer," Daph tossed out nonchalantly, and I winced.

"Ghosts!" Michael and Derek yelled at the same time.

Glaring at my sister, I hissed, "Why are you the way you are?"

"Sorry!" she fluttered her hands at me and hissed, "I figured he knew."

Hurrying to Michael, I slid onto his lap, twining my arms around his neck and smiling prettily. Pushing my glasses up my nose, I tried batting my lashes, since it seemed to always work for Daphne.

"We have ghosts," he whispered, not looking at all impressed with my eyelash fluttering. Since it was making it hard for me to see him, I just gave up on it .

"Not scary ones. Besides, they won't mess with you, when you have a big bad witch in the house."

He looked horrified. "Daphne's moving in?"

I swatted his chest playfully, and he snickered, pulling me closer to him. Kissing me, he whispered, "I love you, witch."

"Mmmm," resting my head on his shoulder, I smiled, content. "I love you too, mere mortal."

"Michael," Derek cut into our private, swoony moment, "we need to talk. Witches? What the fuck? And ghosts? Seriously? Are you guys just fucking with me?"

"Come along," Daphne tugged him by his t-shirt, pulling him behind her from the room, "let's leave the lovebirds alone. I can answer all your witchy related questions."

Raising my head to watch them leave the room, I sighed loudly. "Poor Derek doesn't stand a chance against my sister, does he?"

Michael placed a hot kiss on my neck, just under my ear, and my whole body shook. Because every time the man touched me, it was like it was the very first time.

"About as much of a chance as I had against you."

The End