Love and Other Crisis | Season 1

Episode | 25

"Eat."

Kaliope dodged the spoon Inola tried to force into her mouth. The supposed soup the fox demon brought resembled the icky concoction witches brewed in their cauldrons with floating eyeballs and bits of human body parts. Kaliope spotted neither, but the thick consistency of the mixture, the mysterious green hue, and the unpalatable aroma hinted at it.

"No. Don't want to."

Kaliope struggled to speak and secure her mouth simultaneously while Inola straddled her on the bed.

"Eat. My Auntie Priya says it'll put meat on your bones." Inola swooped in with the spoon.

"I have meat on my bones. No." Kaliope pressed her lips shut.

Inola's lips split into the toothy grin she showed Andreas. Her pupils elongated slits in a pool of silver. Something other rippled beneath her skin. Behind her, three tails swished like furry, agitated pythons.

"Alright. Should we do this the easy or the demon way?"

Minutes later, Kaliope lay in bed unresponsive, the soup container empty. Tears rolled down her cheeks from the trauma. Pleased at fulfilling her duties, Inola repacked her lunch bag. Gideon entered the room, waving an issue of the Occult Gossiper. He stopped. Sniffed.

"Who died?"

"Me." Kaliope groaned. "I died."

Inola rolled her eyes and shook her head. "What's with the paper?"

News of Katerina's death graced the front page in bold print.

Prominent jewelry designer to the elite murdered. Body missing. Unknown culprit at large.

The media played up the link between Katerina and the missing jewel, spinning their tale. The article dropped hints and misleading suppositions without stating anything outright for fear of a lawsuit. They allowed enough wiggle room for the public imagination to fill in their versions of salacious innuendos.

The Occult Gossiper was responsible for what they printed, not the public's assumptions. Kaliope glowered at their underhanded tactic. The differences between the Noccult and Occult were negligible when she weighed the similarities.

"No mention she's a charm mage." Gideon rolled up the paper. "The Assembly's bending over three-ways to withhold her real designation from print."

"It won't last long. With all the fake jewelry Katerina sold. I can hear their little feet scrambling to plug all the leaks." Inola mimicked the movement with her fingers.

"Meanwhile, Madam Falgor blazed into the office like a dragon breathing fire. Ronin's fending her off."

"Oh." Inola's eyes shined. "I want to watch."

Kaliope did too, but questions plagued her.

"One thing's bothering me. What if the plan succeeded? What if Zohar took the fall for the theft and Falgor House became a single-branch succession? Ballister knows if he and Juniper can't have children, his House dies with him. Why put his wife, the woman he supposedly loves, in a compromising position—?"

"Divorce."

Kaliope flinched at Inola's matter-of-fact response. Kaliope wasn't a Ballister Falgor fan, but the solution was harsh—an unforgivable betrayal against Juniper.

"You can't be serious?"

Gideon chimed in. "Ballister has a duty, and witches are, if nothing else, dutiful. Remember the reading I sent you?"

Kaliope mentally referenced Gideon's files. The witches believed choosing the family first was noble self-sacrifice for the greater good. Kaliope nodded, and Gideon continued his reasoning.