finally growing out of the need to show off for all the pretty girls.”
“A four-year-old is teleporting tea cups? Is that normal? Nell’s house must be nuts.”
Jennie rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. Five kids, two of them witchlings, and one of them the strongest witch in a century or more. Aervyn’s skills aren’t remotely normal. At four, he can do far more than most witches at the peak of their powers.”
“So, what he did for me in the airport, most witch kids wouldn’t be able to do that?”
“Completely shutter a highly-sensitive mind in a crowd? Sweetheart, I might have been able to do it when I was younger, for a minute or two. Jamie is pretty sure he couldn’t have done it at all. We could have dampened the effect for you some, but what Aervyn did—no preparation, no circle backing him up—he’s the only living witch I know who could have shielded you that totally and held it that long.”
“I’m grateful he was there, but that must be a heck of a responsibility for Nell.” And I guess maybe I don’t have to be so embarrassed a child rode to my rescue, thought Lauren as she sipped her tea. Spearmint, she realized with a mental eye roll. Clearly Sophie wasn’t the only witch trying to fix her brain with some tea leaves.
Jennie grinned. “The tea works better than you think it does. And no, child, I’m not in your head. You’re thinking loudly enough any mind witch for a mile could hear you.”
Crap. There were a couple more in the kitchen with Nell. “Exactly how do I stop that?”
Jennie patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it for today. We’ll do some real work tomorrow, and I’ll show you how to gain some control over your volume. For now, Jamie and Aervyn will be blocking your thoughts on their end—it’s basic etiquette for mind sensitives. I’ll be more open to you while we work together, but only then. And trust me, there’s little you could think I haven’t already heard.”
“Can anyone else hear my loud head?”
“No. I’ve tasked Jamie with making sure of that. It’s the least he can do, since he blew open your channels the way he did. Normally you would become more sensitive as you trained, so you gain power as you gain control. Jamie pretty much short-circuited that for you.”
Lauren protested. “He shouldn’t be taking the rap for this. As far as I know, it was just some really unfortunate timing for his precog.”
“No one’s blaming him. But Jamie would be the first to say that even unintended consequences come with responsibility. You’re his, and now you’re mine too, and I’m glad for it.”
Lauren was a little overwhelmed. In the big city of Chicago, you mostly sank or swam on your own. There were a lot of people trying to help her float right now. All this for some stranger they’d found on the Internet.
“It’s freely given, child.” Jennie smiled. “For today, I just want to get to know you a little better. Do you want to tell me how you’re doing with all this first, or do you want to see my grandbabies?”
She’s kind of irresistible. Dynamo grandma and chatty neighbor all rolled up into one. “Show me your grandbabies. You said you’re a photographer—do you have pictures?”
“Indeed I do.” Jennie reached into her camera bag and pulled out a laptop identical to Lauren’s. She clicked a couple of times and handed it over, slideshow playing on the screen.
Make that dynamo grandma and computer whiz. Lauren gazed at the pictures, first in polite interest, then with gooey baby brain. Who could resist triplets? The babies were totally adorable. The pictures were stunning.
Lauren looked up. “You take amazing photographs. Your grandbabies are wonderful, but you have such talent. You must do this professionally.”
Jennie nodded toward a book on the coffee table. “I did. I’m more-or-less retired now. Portraits mostly, although sweet grandbabies weren’t my usual subjects.”
The portrait on the cover of the coffee-table book was unmistakable. Lauren knew it well. She’d seen it headlining an exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago Museum, and it had made her cry. It was about to make her cry again.
The photograph captured a young girl, curled up against a body shrouded and prepared for burial. No one had to tell you the child lay for one last cuddle with her mother.
Lauren looked up, tears in her eyes, and struggled to match artistic genius with the woman sitting