A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,51
Jamie! Get Aervyn out of there. Then get him barriered.
She could feel Jamie’s fear, even as they both bolted for the stairs. Don’t know if I can. Once I port him, I won’t have much left.
On it. Caro’s mental voice from just outside the house stopped them both in their tracks. Consider it done. You move him, Jamie—I have his head.
Jamie nodded. Moved. He was sheet white again.
Lauren squeezed her eyes shut in relief. Caro was a strong mind witch—Aervyn would be safe. She took one more moment to send an order to Nell. Barrier Jamie, or get him out of the house. He was almost empty.
Sophie touched her arm, and then reached for Jamie, who was clutching the newel post, swaying. “I’ve got him. Go.”
Thank goodness witches flocked to food.
Lauren charged up the stairs and heard footsteps at her heels. She whirled on Devin. “Stay out—I can’t protect your mind and deal with her too.” Closer now, she was picking up Sierra’s dream—hurtling waves as big as a mountain, bearing down on a tiny island. “She’s reliving what happened.”
“I’m mind-deaf, Lauren.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Whatever’s happening, it’s not hurting me.”
She had no idea how anyone could be deaf to the tsunami of feeling coming from the bedroom where Sierra slept, but there was no time to argue. Yanking open the door to the room, she froze, barriering spell crashing to a halt.
The poor girl was off the bed, trying to squeeze into the tiny space between the mattress and the floor, mewing like a tortured kitten. Her mind was one keening wail of pain.
“Can I touch her?” Devin’s voice was an ocean of calm. “Is it okay to pick her up?”
Lauren clung to his steadiness, fighting for control against Sierra’s devastation. “I don’t know. Move slowly—I’ll let you know if it gets worse.”
Carefully he moved in beside Sierra, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Shh, sweet girl. Shh, now.”
Lauren motioned for him to keep going—and then realized he’d do a lot better job if he wasn’t flying totally blind. She connected into his mind and sent a tiny fraction of what Sierra was feeling down the pipe.
He nodded in thanks and slowly picked Sierra up, settling her in his lap like a small child. The pain in her mind dialed down a notch, and the awful mewing stopped.
Lauren closed her eyes, trying to figure out what to do next.
Can you hear me? His voice surprised her, but probably shouldn’t have. He’d been joined at the hip to a mind witch his whole life.
Yeah. I’m going to try to dampen her emotions a little.
No. His mind was very decisive. Not yet.
She’s in agony, Devin. Lauren turned up the volume a bit so he could see for himself.
He winced. Stop that, damn it. I’m not a stupid witch—I can see how bad it is just looking at your face. You’re whiter than Jamie.
She dialed the volume back down, suddenly ashamed.
And don’t freaking apologize, either. There’s no way this is all about a dead bird. You’re empath and telepath both, right? Focus on her dream—we need to know what’s hurting her like this.
Lauren froze as his words sank in. He was right. She’d seen waves, but no birds at all. If Sierra was reliving the past few days, the bird would have been all over her dream. She swung around mentally and tried to pull dreaming images out of the flood.
Hey! Devin had a hell of a kick for a guy who wasn’t a mind witch. Hook me in. Don’t you dare go into a dream alone.
Freaking bossy Sullivans. He was right, however. Lauren threw him a line, and then dove into Sierra’s mind torrent, seeking—and glad for the guy who had her back.
When she found the dream source, she backed off a step. Monitoring dreams was a tricky and dangerous business. Monitoring a nightmare…
I’ve got you. Devin’s mindvoice was rock solid.
Checking her mental anchors once more, Lauren grabbed hold of the roaring dream. And hissed as she suddenly found herself flying over the surface of the ocean at insane speeds. Holy God.
Sierra’s desperate fear had nothing to do with the flying, however. Lauren looked up—and saw a mountain of water racing front of her. Just beyond it, a tiny island in the middle of the ocean. And on the island, a woman, blonde hair streaming—her back to the killing wave.
She felt Devin’s harsh intake of breath. That’s Amelia. Oh, shit—Lauren, that’s Sierra’s mother.
It was all too clear what was about