A Reckless Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,67
much fun. Momma and I used to do so much magic together. It was like getting to play all day long.”
“Not feeling like a game anymore, huh?” For some witches, it could be. But not one with Sierra’s power. At least, not all the time. And it sucked to be one of the people pushing that truth on the poor kid.
She shook her head slowly. “No. Rules, and training circles, and problems that if we can’t solve them, people might die.”
All true—but not the whole truth. If magic were nothing but a weight to carry, a lot more witches would have been kicking around the world seeking freedom with Amelia. There was something seriously wrong when Witch Central didn’t seem like any fun. Devin decided someone needed to be in charge of fixing that. “Wanna ride a broomstick?”
Her giggles seemed to escape by accident. “What?”
“Eat.” He levitated her burger. “Aervyn’s been trying to figure out how to fly on a broomstick like Harry Potter. We’re going back to Ocean’s Reach in a couple of days for another lesson.” He grinned. “You have to wear a cape and a pointy hat. Aervyn’s rules.”
She shook her head, more giggles spilling out. “I don’t have a cape.”
“That can be fixed.” He took a bite of his burger. “I think Mia has a pink princess one you could borrow.”
She held out a French fry like a sword. “Over my dead body.”
He considered for a moment. “Finish your food. Then we’ll go shopping.”
More giggles. “For a cape?”
“Yup.” It would solve two problems. One, Berkeley thrift stores were like a trip to an alien world—Sierra couldn’t help but have fun. And two, it would keep them busy for another hour. If he delivered Sierra to her new apartment before 7 p.m., the decorating squad would be very displeased.
~ ~ ~
“You don’t have to walk me up.” Sierra grinned at Devin. “I know the way.”
“I do so. Honorary-big-brother handbook, section 23.2.”
She still wasn’t entirely clear how she’d acquired a big brother. But she’d never forget where. They’d been in the third thrift store of the evening, trying to complete the set of Ugliest Dishes in the World. He insisted she’d need them to feed him properly. Apparently little sisters cooked for their big brothers. Also in the handbook.
Devin set several bags down in front of her door with an exaggerated sigh. “Girls always buy too much stuff.”
“Ha. You’re the one who picked the bowls with the cute painted pink pigs.” She was slowly getting the hang of this little sister gig.
“Those are not cute pigs. They’re totally ugly. I so won the contest.”
“Did not. The ones with the guy in the kilt were way uglier.”
His eyes lit with victory. “Yeah, but you didn’t actually buy those.”
Well, that was true.
He elbowed her. “You’re not supposed to let me get the last word in. Little-sister handbook, section 17.8.”
She needed to have a serious chat with Nell about this sister stuff. Sierra dug in her bag for her new set of keys, a bit wistful the night was over. It was nice to have her own place. It was just kind of… empty. Literally—she had three cups and one folding chair. Shrugging off the tugs of sadness, she picked up one of the bags. At least she had dishes now. And a Superman cape.
Devin pushed the door open, and she nudged her way inside. A strange noise caught her attention—and then sound exploded from the walls. “SURPRISE!!!”
Sierra tried to get her racing heart under control, astonished she was still clutching the bag of dishes.
“Oops. We forgot to turn on the lights.” Ginia’s voice came out of the dark, followed by some thunking and cursing and a lot of giggling. Then light flooded the room.
Wow. Just. Wow.
There were people everywhere. And stuff. Couches, and pictures, and pretty lights. It looked like a room out of a magazine. Ginia bounced over, her sisters half a step behind. “Do you like it?” She looked up in concern at Sierra’s face. “If you don’t, we can change it—honest.”
Sierra felt the happiness in the room dim—and belatedly realized she was the cause. She tried to find her words. “For me? You did this for me?” She cuddled her dishes in inarticulate joy. Only Momma had ever loved her like this.
“Come sit down, dear,” said a voice from the couch. “We’ve overwhelmed you. Come—there’s a bit of space right here by me.”
Devin took her bags and gently nudged her dysfunctional feet in the direction of the