A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,50
footstool, she took his hand. “Where are we going?”
“Home.” He laughed as she stopped in confusion. “You know that ugly monstrosity in our basement?”
It was olive green and coffee-stained—and one of Jamie’s most prized possessions. “You’re going to give her The Monster?”
He shrugged and headed for the door. “Sure. It’s perfect. Big as an ocean and comfy and curvy. It just needs a new cover. I’ll call Nell—we must know someone who can sew.”
The generosity of the witching community still made Nat catch her breath with regularity. Her husband would give up his couch, get it a new cover, and think nothing of it.
She was a lucky woman. And maybe not the only one. Things were stirring for another Sullivan brother. “So what do you think about Devin and Lauren?”
“What about them?”
“You think what’s flying between them will go anywhere?”
Jamie stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
She grinned. It was serious fun figuring things out faster than a mind witch. “I think it started at our wedding, actually, but it’s getting really obvious now. Did you see them at knitting this morning?”
“Dev? And Lauren?” Jamie was practically squeaking.
Yeah. Not the likeliest of pairs, on the surface. “The beginnings are there, but they might just ignore it. Lauren’s always been really happy on her own. She needs a guy less than anyone I know.”
Jamie stared another long moment—and then his face slowly lit with mischief. “Well, that might be the one thing Dev would find irresistible.”
Possibly. Nat kissed his cheek. “Resist the urge to meddle.”
“Oh, we’ve already done that.” He grinned. “We put them together in our birthing circle.”
She was missing something. “And how is that meddling?”
“They’re going to be scared witless, depending on each other, and overwhelmed by our gorgeous girl.” He snickered softly. “Mom will be thrilled.”
Nat shook her head, amused. “It’s not exactly a done deal yet.”
His eyes shone with the kind of glee she usually saw in his four-year-old nephew. “No, but Mom will be here in a couple of days. And no one meddles better than Retha Sullivan.”
They stepped out of the store into the much busier street—and two feet kicked into Nat’s ribs hard enough to make her double over. Jamie grabbed her arm, concern all over his face. “Contractions?” Then he shook his head. “No, I can feel her mind—her head hurts. Too many people.”
He laid a hand on her belly and closed his eyes for a minute. She could feel the baby instantly quiet. “Whatever you did, she’s much happier now.”
He nodded. “I threw up barriers, just like I did for Lauren once upon a time. I think all the strange minds confused her.”
Nat tried to breathe and roll with the newness. “Ginia’s been coming over to clear our channels every day. Is there more we need to do?”
He shrugged. “Ideally we teach our sweet girl to barrier, but as Lauren’s discovering, that’s tricky just yet. I tried lessons with Aervyn before he was born, too. Some stuff worked a little, some didn’t. Lauren’s a way better mind witch though, so maybe she’ll have better luck.”
Magic lessons for an unborn witch. She definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
Chapter 12
Lauren walked into Nell’s living room and laughed. “Didn’t any of you go home?” It was pretty much the same crew who had been there after the Channel Islands emergency.
Jamie grinned. “Shopping exhaustion. And we were hungry. A little bird said Caro was bringing over food again.”
Nell rolled her eyes. “Dev and Jamie came over to do a magic lesson with Aervyn, but he’s napping.” Her face softened. “He asked Sierra to come tuck him in, and when I went upstairs, they were both curled up together.”
The two of them had bonded deeply in the last twenty-four hours. Aervyn’s capacity to forgive was humbling.
“Done.” Sophie put down her needles, with what was presumably a swatch for Sierra’s blanket. “Napping’s good for people with channel shock.” She looked pointedly at Jamie. “You’re still tired—you could use some extra rest too.”
He was tired. She could feel it. Lauren stood up. Witches who refused to take naps could at least eat. Nell’s kitchen always had cookies.
She made it about halfway out of her chair before her head exploded, pounding with the incoming flood of desperation and sadness and incoming death. Oh, holy God. Not in the eye of the storm anymore. She fought for control—and then she heard Aervyn beginning to panic, overwhelmed by the trauma hitting his sleeping mind.
First things first.