Werewolves Be Damned - By Stacey Kennedy Page 0,25
actually.” Zia nodded. “You should feel a connection with your fellow witches because your core being is joined to the Elements. Just because you haven’t touched on those powers doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”
Made sense, she supposed.
Zia picked off a piece of lint on her skirt before she flicked it onto the grass, and added, “I also don’t know what will happen once your witch powers are released, or what will trigger it. I’ve never seen a witch come into her magic so late in life.”
Nexi frowned. “Are you trying to scare me?” Her panic rose to near lethal levels, heart skipping a beat. “If so, it’s working.”
“No, I’m not trying to scare you, but trying to prepare you.” Zia took Nexi’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “Please don’t worry. If you cannot control your magic on your own, I can help you.”
Big relief.
She stared at Zia’s hand over top of hers and noted how comfortable she felt with Zia. How much it wasn’t weird having Zia holding her hand, which hit her as strange. She didn’t have a soul-sister bond with Zia, and she knew very little of the Mistress of Witches, but there was something there—a glaringly obvious deep connection.
“We were soul sisters,” Zia whispered.
Nexi lifted her head. “Pardon?”
“Your birth mother, Tillie, and I were soul sisters.” Zia released Nexi’s hand and her voice thickened. “Did you know that?”
“No, I’m sorry, no one told me.”
In all actuality, she knew little about her birth mother, except two things: she was dead and her death had driven Drake to send Nexi into the Earthworld. He’d lost his love due to the violence. He wouldn’t lose a daughter as well, or so he had told her. Not that she wasn’t curious about Tillie, but the heartbreak Drake suffered when he talked of her birth mother made her hesitate.
“You’d like to know more about Tillie?” Zia asked.
Nexi eyed Zia, full of suspicion. “You know at first I thought you were intuitive, but there’s no way you can only be that, so spill. Can you read my mind? Is that one of your magical powers?”
Zia nodded. “I can always read into the minds of others through touch. With you, however, it’s different.” She hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully. “You have vivid thoughts, and you send me messages telepathically.”
“I do not.” Nexi gasped.
Zia grinned. “You do.”
“That’s bizarre, and I’m not sure I like that.” Suffering a serious case of heebeejeebies, Nexi shook out her hands, ridding herself of the creepiness crawling through her veins. “Why am I doing that, and how do I make it stop?”
Zia’s eyebrows creased with her frown. “I’m afraid to say I can’t stop it, not until I understand why it’s happening, and right now, I don’t.” She hesitated, giving Nexi a long look, then added, “On some level, I suspect it could be that your mother and I were soul sisters, and that bond has developed in another way in her daughter.”
That made sense. Kind of.
“The other part of me wonders if it’s your magical abilities coming through. I’ve never had a connection like this before. So, it is odd, and I can only make assumptions as to why I can read you without touch.”
Nexi pondered that exact thought herself, glancing out at the meadow and watching the leaves of a willow tree sway in the wind. She turned to Zia. “Do you mean that it’s one of my gifts, so to speak? That I have the power to send telepathic messages?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Zia admitted. “I had wondered that myself, but if it was one of your gifts, then you should do it with every witch, not only me.”
Nexi rubbed her eyes. Why couldn’t any of this be simple?
“Don’t stress about this.” Zia patted her leg in her reassuring way. “Right now, we’re only taking guesses on who you are as a witch. Once you come into your magic, things will make more sense.”
“Yeah, right,” she muttered.
As much as she figured nothing would ever make sense again, and regardless of the old pain that sank its fangs into her, or of the uncertainty of the future ahead of her, she knew she needed to hone every skill she had as a supernatural. For all that she’d lost. For the sacrifices so many had made. For the revenge she hungered.
She lifted her head. “All right, give me the lowdown on my witchy mom.”
Chapter Eight
Three weeks of training had passed, and Hell would’ve been more