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CHAPTER 3

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I had just finished aligning the living room chakras with a new spell when the knock came. There was no mistaking that rhythm—it had the same cadence as my heartbeat whenever I thought of finding the Echoing Locket. A little rush of excitement fluttered in my chest as I opened the door to find Brad standing there looking like an Abercrombie model who’d lost his way and ended up in our quaint magical suburb.

My breath caught in my throat. Damn, why did he have to show up now looking like a snack?

Just when I thought I’d mastered the art of magical feng shui, here came Brad to shake up my carefully arranged chi. It was like the universe had a twisted sense of humor. But I couldn’t deny the spark of joy his presence ignited.

“Hey, stranger,” I said, leaning against the door frame. My gaze swept over him—spiky dark brown hair that looked like it had been styled by a tempest, those sexy blue eyes, and casual clothes that somehow accentuated his well-built frame. He wore a simple white tee that hugged his biceps in all the right ways and jeans that were lovingly frayed at the edges. “Lost your way to the gym?” I teased.

I bit my lip, trying to keep my cool. It was like he’d stepped out of my daydreams, all rugged charm and effortless sex appeal. The Covenant of Veiled Boundaries could go stuff itself for all I cared in that moment. I inwardly groaned. Maybe next I could ask him to flex, just to really drive home how not affected I am.

The Covenant, aka the ultimate relationship cockblock of the magical world. They probably had a secret division dedicated to ruining moments like these. I could almost picture their slogan: Keeping hot warlocks and witches apart since forever.

He flashed me that lopsided grin, the one that always made me feel like we were two steps away from trouble. “Nah, just taking the scenic route to see you.”

My heart did a little somersault. How did he always manage to say the right thing? It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once.

“Enter at your own risk.” I smiled, stepping aside to let him in.

Hells bells, did he have to look so damn good? The Witch’s Council would have a field day if they knew what kind of impure thoughts were swirling in my head about the boy next door.

“Nice place you got here.” Brad whistled appreciatively as he strolled into the living room in my magically enhanced abode. “New spell work?”

Pride swelled in my chest. I’d poured my heart into this space, infusing every corner with a piece of myself. It was more than just décor, it was an extension of my magic, my soul. But at least someone appreciated my magical OCD. I was a regular mystical Martha Stewart.

“Perks of being an interior designer with a knack for enchantments.” I gave him a nonchalant shrug while closing the door behind him.

It had been a month since he’d dropped the L-bomb, and I’d thrown it right back like a hot potato. I’d told him I had to let him go, but it hurt. Easier said than done.

A month. Four weeks of pretending I didn’t miss him, of telling myself I made the right choice. And here he was, looking like a walking reminder of everything I’d given up. The universe really had a sick sense of humor. Or maybe it was just testing my resolve. Either way, I was pretty sure I was failing spectacularly.

“How’ve you been?” He was leaning against my bookshelf lined with ancient tomes and modern spell books alike.

Such a loaded question. I missed him so much my heart ached. Memories flooded back—passionate kisses, late-night dates that turned into make out sessions. But those days were gone, crushed under the burden of duty and ancient laws. I swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in my throat.

“Um.” I pushed a blue-streaked lock of hair behind my ear. “Still looking for the Echoing Locket.”

Brad nodded, his expression turning serious. “Which is why I’m here. I want to help if I can. You know, keep it out of the wrong hands?”

His offer to help sent a spark of affection through me, quickly doused by the cold reality of our situation. The Covenant of Veiled Boundaries loomed between us like an invisible wall.

“Brad, you know we can’t be more than friends—” I said.

He cut me off, “Hey, I get it. Star-crossed lovers, different magical backgrounds, blah, blah, blah.” His voice was gentle but firm. “But this isn’t about us, Sage. It’s bigger than some high school romance rekindled. We’ve got skills that complement each other, and you know it.”

His words hit home. We did make a great team. But working together would be like dangling a cookie in front of a starving person—pure torture.

“High school romance, huh?” I smirked, rolling my eyes. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Call it whatever you want, but we were high school sweethearts,” he said, stepping closer. Close enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne—sandalwood, musk, and something uniquely Brad and extra yummy. It took every ounce of willpower not to lean in closer. I was playing with fire and I knew it. “But you can’t deny we make a pretty damn good team.”

I wanted to reach out, to touch him, but I clenched my fists instead. The fate of Emberwick Crossing was at stake.

I sighed with mock seriousness, tapping my chin. “Okay, partner. Let’s find that locket. But remember, we’re strictly in the friend zone. The High Witch would have our heads otherwise.”

“Scout’s honor,” he replied, holding up three fingers and winking.

“Did you ever even go to Scouts?” I laughed, shaking my head.

He grinned. “Details, details.”

“Purely platonic,” I reiterated, my voice wavering. “We’re in this for the greater good, not for...whatever we had.”

Brad nodded, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Platonic partners in supernatural crime-fighting.”

Though my resolve wavered when he flashed that boyish grin that always melted my defenses.

I swallowed hard. “All right then. Now, about that lead—”

“Wait,” Brad interrupted, stepping closer. “Before we dive into all that, I just want to say...I missed you, Sage. A lot.”

My heart somersaulted in my chest. “I missed you too, Brad. More than you know.”

He closed the distance between us in two strides, his eyes searching mine. “Sage,” he whispered, his breath warm on my cheek.

Then his lips were on mine, and the world fell away. The kiss was electric, fierce and passionate. It ignited something primal within me, a hunger I’d tried to bury. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and I melted into him. I ran my fingers through his hair, relishing its softness. Brad’s stubble scratched my chin, sending tingles across my skin. He tasted like mint and possibility, familiar yet thrilling. It felt like coming home after a long journey, only to realize the place I’d left was where I belonged all along.

We broke apart, both breathless. Brad rested his forehead against mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Wow,” I murmured, my lips still tingling.

Brad chuckled softly. “Yeah, wow.”

Reality came crashing back. I stepped away, wrapping my arms around myself. “Brad, we can’t—”

“I know,” he said, his voice husky. “But damn, I needed that.”

“Me too,” I admitted, my chest tight with regret and longing. “But it can’t happen again. You know the rules.”

Brad ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in that adorable way I loved. “Screw the rules, Sage. This feels right.”

I shook my head even as every fiber of my wanted to kiss him again. “The High Witch would never allow it. We’d be risking everything.”

“Maybe it’s worth the risk,” Brad said, his tone serious. He took my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “Don’t you ever wonder what we could be if we gave us a real shot?”

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to throw caution to the wind. “Of course, I do. But we have responsibilities, Brad. The supernatural uprising, the fate of the magical community, the law forbidding us to be together...it’s bigger than the both of us.”

Brad’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right, as always.” He managed a weak smile. “Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

I squeezed his hand. “I know. But hey, at least we get to work together, right? Platonic partners and all that.”

“Yeah,” Brad said, brightening a little. “So, about that lead...”

“Right, the lead,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “What did you find?”

“It was in an old journal, buried under a pile of forgotten lore in the library’s hidden chamber that once belonged to the apprentice of Archmage, who we know mysteriously vanished into Emberwick Crossing’s underbelly.”

I kept stealing glances at him. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the slight quirk of his lips when he was thinking...it was all so achingly him.

“Go on,” I urged.

Brad paced. “The apprentice wrote about an older district that even the locals avoided. A place where our infamous Archmage dabbled in dark magic and plotted for power.”

“Sounds charming. And you think that’s where we’ll find the Echoing Locket?”

“Maybe. It’s our best shot,” he replied. “We should definitely check it out. But, uh, maybe we should bring back-up this time? After what happened last month with that rogue pixie swarm...”

I laughed, the tension between us easing. “Don’t tell me you’re still sore about that.”

Brad rubbed his arm, wincing dramatically. “Hey, those little guys pack a punch! I had welts for days.”

“Poor baby,” I teased. “Next time, I’ll be sure to kiss it better.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Brad’s gaze snapped to mine, and the air between us charged once more.

“Sage,” he said, his voice low and rough.

I held up a hand. “I know, I know. Just kidding. Platonic, remember?”

Brad nodded but his gaze lingered on my lips. “Right. Platonic.”

We stood there for a moment.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “So, um, about that back-up. I was thinking we could go it alone this time.”

“Good idea,” Brad agreed. “But Evie’s potions have saved our butts more times than I can count.”

I grinned. “True. Remember that time she turned that angry troll into a fluffy hamster?”

Brad laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out. “How could I forget? The look on its face was priceless.”

But reality had a way of intruding. My familiar, Agatha, sauntered into the room, fixing us with a knowing stare. “Well, well,” she drawled. “Isn’t this cozy? Should I come back later, or are you two done swooning over each other?”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “We weren’t...I mean... we’re just—”

“Discussing strategy,” Brad finished smoothly.

Agatha’s tail swished skeptically. “Uh-huh. And I suppose that ‘strategy’ involved swapping saliva?”

“Agatha!” I hissed, mortified.

Brad coughed, avoiding my gaze. “Are you ready to take a little carpet ride?”

“Are we talking about that ratty old thing your dad calls transportation?” I teased.

“Hey, it gets the job done,” Brad defended with a chuckle. “Just hold on tight.”

I grinned, grabbing my coat. We stepped out the door, leaving behind the warmth of my living room and the lingering heat of our forbidden kiss.

Brad turned back to me on the porch, his expression soft. “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret it. Any of it.”

My heart swelled. “Me either,” I whispered.

The abandoned district of the manufacturing area of Emberwick Crossing swallowed us whole, a desolate expanse of decay where magic hung heavy in the air like a suffocating mist. Once resplendent structures now stood as crumbling sentinels to a bygone era, their facades marred by the relentless passage of time and dark spells. A pervasive sense of foreboding crept over me as we navigated the twisted streets, strewn with debris from failed enchantments and littered with the remnants of protective hexes.

“Can you feel that?” I murmured, my senses prickling.

“Like static on my skin,” Brad replied, scanning our surroundings with cautious intensity.

We landed on a patch of weeds and overgrown grass and stepped off. The carpet curled up and zoomed away.

Brad frowned. “Damn. Now we need to find another way home,” he grumbled.

We picked our way through the ruins. Suddenly guardians—nightmarish creatures twisted by dark magic, appeared.

“Holy hell,” I said, staring at the first ghastly figure.

A wolf with scales shimmering in the dim light prowled forward, its red eyes seething with hatred. The second creature, more humanoid in shape, dragged its elongated limbs across the pavement, claws scraping, its body slick with an oil that sizzled upon contact with the ground.

“These creatures... I’ve heard about them,” Brad said, his voice tense as he eyed the monstrous forms. “They are loyal servants to Archmage. But now, they’ve been corrupted by her dark magic.”

I glanced at him. “What does that mean for us?”

“It means they’ll stop at nothing to protect their master’s secrets,” Brad replied grimly.

“Watch out for that icky stuff,” I warned, pointing at the corrosive liquid pooling around our feet.

“Got it.” Brad nodded, positioning himself back-to-back with me.

The third monstrosity loomed larger than the others, like a golem made of stone and mud, constantly shifting shape as if deciding which form would best spell our doom.

“Party crashers are the worst,” Brad said, readjusting his stance.

I extended my hands, drawing upon my magic. “You take Tall, Dark, and Ugly. I’ve got Scales and Oily.”

“Copy that.”

The battle was swift and brutal. We moved in unison, spells and counterspells weaving an intricate tapestry of survival. With every incantation, I poured my will into subduing these abominations of nature, while Brad summoned barriers and constructs to deflect our assailants’ vicious attacks. I felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through me.

“Sage,” Brad called out as we fought, “Don’t hold back!”

“Like I ever do!” Smirking, I dodged another swipe from the wolf-creature’s razor-sharp talons. “Let’s wrap this up. I’ve got a date with destiny, and she hates being kept waiting.”

“Destiny’s got nothing on you, babe,” Brad replied, admiration in his tone.

With our combined strength and cunning, we killed the three creatures. I panted when the last of them lay defeated at our feet.

“Come on, let’s find Archmage or the locket before more party favors show up uninvited,” I urged.

With a nod, Brad followed me deeper into the heart of the gloomy manufacturing district. I felt a magical sensation leading past buildings and abandoned cars.

Ah, the joys of a magical scavenger hunt in the creepiest part of town. Nothing says fun date night like dodging tetanus-ridden debris and hoping we didn’t stumble upon any wayward ghosts with unfinished business. At least Brad’s company made the whole ordeal slightly less terrifying. His presence was like a walking, talking security blanket—if security blankets could cast spells and had great hair.

I felt it the strongest outside a creepy laboratory.

Why couldn’t it be a nice, cozy bakery or a cheerful flower shop? But no, apparently sinister secrets and world-altering magic preferred the ambiance of mad scientist lairs.

We stood before the ancient door, marked with glowing runes. Its power pulsed like a heartbeat against the silence of the area.

The door’s pulsing magic reminded me of those novelty t-shirts with built-in LED lights, except this one probably came with a side of potential doom. I wondered if Archmage had a flair for the dramatic or if ominous, glowing entrances were just standard issue for powerful magic users. Maybe I should consider adding some pizzazz to my own front door.

“Hmmm...” I observed, eyeing the door’s ornate carvings. “Ready to crack this cryptic code?”

I tried to sound confident. In reality, my insides were doing an interpretive dance routine

“You can do this, Sage.” Brad gestured at the door.

Brad’s unwavering faith in my abilities was touching, really. It was also mildly terrifying. What if I messed up? What if, instead of unlocking the door, I accidentally summoned a horde of paper clips with a vendetta against humanity?

I reached out tentatively, hands hovering over the runes. Their eerie light cast ghostly shadows on our faces—our final barrier to Archmage’s secrets.

I took a deep breath, then exhaled, tracing the patterns with my fingertips. The faint brilliance brightened at my touch, bending to the will of my magic.

I began the magical equivalent of picking a lock with a strand of spaghetti. The runes responded to my touch, their glow intensifying like I’d just flipped the switch on the world’s fanciest night light. I silently prayed that this wasn’t some elaborate magical prank show, and that the door wouldn’t suddenly burst open to reveal a laughing Archmage and a camera crew. Although, given the state of my hair after trekking through that hell hole, I definitely wasn’t ready for my close-up.

“Got it,” I murmured.

Then the door swung open, revealing a half-lit lit staircase that spiraled downward like a descent into the abyss itself...or Hell.

With a nod at Brad, I took the lead.

“Watch your step,” I said, half to myself and half to Brad.

The air grew colder, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones. Flickering torches placed on the walls cast long, moving shadows along the corridor. The stone steps were worn and uneven.

“Feels like we’re walking into a trap,” Brad whispered, his voice reverberating in the confined stairwell.

“Doesn’t it always?”

My heart thundered in my chest, but I kept going. This locket was important to protecting the magic of my hometown—the very same magic Archmage sought to control.

The staircase ended, opening into a vast underground chamber. It was like stepping into a mausoleum of magical sciences.

The room was an alchemist’s fever dream, cluttered with tables holding bubbling potions and strange herbs that even I couldn’t name. Animal cages—some occupied, some disturbingly empty—lined the walls. The place smelled like enigma magic, dust, and decay, a redolence so potent it was almost a taste on the tongue.

“Creepy doesn’t begin to cover it,” I said, scanning the eerie lab equipment.

At the center of the room stood a large, ornate pedestal, and upon it, an open book glistening in an eerie glow. Its pages seemed to turn off their own volition, as if inviting us to look closer.

“Is that what I think it is?” Brad asked.

We both knew it could only be one thing—Archmage’s personal grimoire.

“Yup. A dark witch’s grimoire.” I approached the pedestal cautiously, stretching out a hand to let the tips of my fingers brush against the parchment. The moment my skin made contact, the pages fluttered like the wings of a trapped bird, then stilled to reveal Archmage’s plan. It detailed the use of the Echoing Locket to amplify her own dark magic, to bend the wills of others like twigs before her mighty intention.

My body trembled. “Check it out—looks like Archmage has big plans.”

Brad shook his head. “What a damn control freak.”

“We have to stop this, Brad. No matter what.”

Reading the intricate diagrams and notes spilled across the grimoire’s pages, detailing the twisted creation of those creatures we’d narrowly escaped. My breath caught. I read something unexpected—my parents’ names etched in the margins. A revelation that struck like a bolt of lightning. My stomach lurched. I knew my parents had opposed the plans for the supernatural uprising, and that their defiance was met with silence...permanent silence.

The truth hit me like a sucker punch to the gut.

All this time, I’d been living in a fog of uncertainty, grasping at straws to understand why they were taken from me. Now, the pieces were falling into place, forming a picture so horrifying I almost wished I could un-see it. My parents, the pillars of my world, had been silenced not by chance, but by malevolent design. The weight of this knowledge pressed down on me, threatening to crush my spirit.

“Dammit,” I whispered. “It’s true the supernatural uprising movement murdered them...possibly on Archmage’s orders.”

My mind reeled, struggling to process this earth-shattering revelation. How many nights had I spent wondering, hoping that their death was just a tragic accident? Now, knowing the truth, I felt a surge of emotions—grief, anger, and a fierce determination that burned through my veins like liquid fire. They died fighting for what was right, and I’d be damned if I let their sacrifice be in vain.

Brad laid a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll make this right, Sage. For them.”

I wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope in his words. But a nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered doubts. How could we, two young magic users barely out of school, hope to stand against a force powerful enough to orchestrate my parents’ demise?

Before we could even consider our next move, a hidden door slid open on the far side of the lab. The Archmage Zephyria Nightspire appeared the embodiment of dread authority. She was draped in dark clothing embroidered with ancient runes that thrummed with latent power. Her raven hair was woven into braids so intricate they were artworks unto themselves, her eyes cold, dark pools were filled with malevolent intelligence. The smile that curled her lips was chilling.

My heart hammered against my ribcage and matched the panic rising in my throat. This was the woman responsible for so much pain, so much loss. I wanted to scream, to lash out with every ounce of magic I possessed. But fear held me in place, my limbs frozen as if caught in a binding spell.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Brad said.

How could he sound so collected when we were face-to-face with the architect of our nightmares? I envied his composure, wishing I could borrow just a fraction of it.

“Hello, there.” Archmage’s voice slithered through the air, smooth and cold, every word calculated. “You’ve come far, but this is where your journey ends. The Echoing Locket will ensure my rule, and no one will stand in my way.”

Her words sent ice through my veins. The Echoing Locket—that damned magical artifact that had caused so much strife. Panic flared within me, hot and wild, but before it could translate into action, the dark witch lifted her hand. Magic crackled from her fingertips, weaving into a spell that swept over us like an unstoppable tide.

I was desperately trying to conjure a counter-spell, anything to shield us from her magic. But it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a paper fan. I felt helpless, my own magical abilities seeming laughably inadequate in the face of such raw power.

“Brad!” I reached for him, but it was too late.

Blinding light enveloped us, disorienting and pulling us away from that underground tomb of secrets. When my vision cleared, we were teleported back to Emberwick Crossing, standing dazed in the streets.

The sudden shift left me reeling, my senses struggling to adjust. One moment, we were face-to-face with our nemesis, and the next, we were back on home turf. It felt like a cop-out, like we’d been dismissed as mere annoyances rather than genuine threats. The thought stung my pride and fueled my determination.

“Damn, she’s powerful,” Brad muttered, his gaze sweeping our surroundings.

“Powerful, extra crazy, and scared,” I corrected, my obstinacy hardening like set concrete. “We may be back where we started, but we have more information now. We know her plans, and we know she’s afraid of us.”

“Right. Yeah.” Brad nodded. “And if Archmage thinks a fancy teleport spell is going to stop us, she’s dead wrong.”

The fear and doubt that had paralyzed me earlier began to recede, replaced by a steely resolve. Archmage might have the upper hand for now, but we had something she didn’t—the truth. And armed with that truth, I was ready to fight tooth and nail to honor my parents’ memory and protect the world they died trying to save.