A Modern Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,32

8

“Mama, who’s the pretty lady?”

Nell looked up from the computer. Her youngest son was munching an apple and watching her curiously. “What lady, Aervyn?”

“The one playing with Uncle Jamie.”

“Uncle Jamie’s in Chicago, sweetie.”

“I know. Mama, they have snow.” That was big-time impressive to a child who lived in California. “He’s building a snowman with a pretty lady and a little boy who looks like me.”

Huh, thought Nell. Aervyn’s magic was strong, but surely he wasn’t mind-sharing with Jamie half a continent away.

“What does the pretty lady look like, love?”

“She has golden hair, and eyes that get all squinty when she laughs. She laughs a lot. Uncle Jamie really loves her. Like he loves me, so it makes his heart hurt sometimes.”

What the heck was going on in Chicago? Lauren’s hair was auburn; Nell had seen a picture on her realtor site. Jamie worked fast, but falling deeply in love with a stranger in less than two days? Her brother—happy single guy? Nuh uh. Aervyn had immense power, but he was only four. The world didn’t always make sense when you were four.

“I don’t know who she is, sweetie. I’ll ask Uncle Jamie the next time I talk to him. Do you want to read a book?”

“Let’s play magic.” Aervyn nonchalantly transformed his apple into a shiny silver ball and hung it in the air between them. It was his favorite game. The goal was to push the ball into your partner’s hands while they tried to push it into yours. A simple game for teaching trainee witches to control and counter elemental energies.

Nell prepared to cheat and sent a magical tickle toward Aervyn’s belly. It was the only way she could win anymore.

She didn’t notice the tickle aimed at her ribs until it landed. Sneaky little witchling! Where had he learned to cloak an elemental spell like that? Jamie was the most likely culprit. Nell added a long conversation with her brother to her mama to-do list.

…

Lazy Sunday mornings were treasures. Lauren dozed under the covers until her stomach was no longer satisfied with lazy. Time for a bagel run. Then maybe she’d get all domestic and cook up a big batch of spaghetti sauce in her well-stocked kitchen. Online grocery shopping rocked. If Jamie and Nat showed up, she might even share. Maybe not—she was seriously hungry.

Throwing on thick wool leggings, a hoodie, and her boots, Lauren was halfway down the four flights of stairs before she realized she hadn’t brought a coat. She debated for a moment and decided she was too lazy to head back up. She’d make a run for it. The bagel place was only half a block away.

Lauren headed out the door and regretted that decision pretty much instantly. No coat in a Chicago winter was the definition of insanity. She yanked open the door of the bagel shop and gratefully charged inside.

Her mind reeled. Too many voices, too many feelings, too much. Lauren felt her stomach churning and clutched the door handle. She focused on the handle. That was the way out. The three steps to carry her back out the door were a marathon. When the door closed, she sank to her knees.

“Lauren!” Nat rushed to her friend, Jamie right behind her. Lauren felt the barriers he slammed down around her head. Quiet was a stunning gift. Lauren gently stood up, holding her head with both hands.

“What the heck are you doing out in public, Lauren? You have no barriers yet!”

“You can yell at her later.” Nat grabbed Lauren’s arm. “Right after I yell at her for being outside in February without a coat, but let’s get her inside first.”

Was it possible to walk without moving your head? Every step rattled Lauren’s brain. It was a hangover on steroids, but without the fun first. She kept the hand Nat wasn’t holding on her head. Maybe it wouldn’t fall off that way.

They made their way into her building and up the four flights of stairs. Lauren cursed every one. Quietly. Even loud thoughts hurt her head.

Nat dragged her through the door and over to the couch. “Idiot,” she said, tucking a warm throw over Lauren. “I’ll go make tea.”

Jamie sat down. Lauren felt the push inside her head. Ow.

“Relax. I can’t help if you don’t let me in.”

Oh, sure. Just what she needed—someone trampling over whatever was left of her mangled mind. Figuring it couldn’t get any worse, Lauren tried to relax.

The trickle of warmth was heavenly. It spread out and coated her