as their hands passed through harmlessly.
“There’s no reason to be afraid. It won’t hurt you.” His tone had lowered, to either accommodate their proximity or the intense silence that enfolded them. “It’s a privacy spell. You’re the only one here with the ability to see or sense it. Nobody else is paying any attention to us, and now they can’t hear a word we say to each other.”
“How did you do that?” But she already knew. He had cast the spell with those strange-sounding words.
“I can show you, if you like, but not if you run away.”
She only realized he was still touching her when he slid his hand back up her arm, grasped her elbow, and urged her back to the bar.
“Sit and drink your scotch, although we should be opening a bottle of champagne. It’s not every day one runs into an awakening witch.”
Chapter Three
Josiah watched Molly Sullivan’s beautiful, dazed face in fascination. She really hadn’t had any idea about what was happening to her or what she was capable of.
“You mean me.” Molly seemed barely able to articulate as she slid back onto the barstool. “You can’t be serious. This can’t be happening.”
“I’m deadly serious, and of course it’s happening.” He sat on the stool beside her again and swiveled to face her. “Some part of you has to know I’m telling the truth.”
Casting another glance at the shimmering barrier, she held herself rigid. Her expression was unpredictable, as if she might bolt at any minute. He couldn’t tell if she was panicking, but she probably was.
An unpleasant thought occurred to him. Those with magic abilities tended to congregate in magic-tolerant areas, such as close to the heart of the Elder Races demesnes, which existed overlaid with human geography. There were seven demesnes in the United States alone and many others scattered across the globe.
If they didn’t live close to an Elder Races demesne, they often chose to live close to the crossover passageways that had been created when time and space buckled during the earth’s formation. The crossover passageways led to magic-intense Other lands, where time moved differently, modern combustible technologies didn’t work, and the sun shone with a different light.
But the magic-intolerant, or those who had xenophobic tendencies, tended to congregate in other areas, away from the demesnes and crossover passageways. The United States had seen a backlash of opinion against the Elder Races or anyone with magical talent, and Atlanta wasn’t an area known for tolerance.
By far, most of the city’s demographic was made up of plain old nonmagical humanity, and the area’s voting majority was not pro-magic. Molly was going to live a miserable life if she couldn’t come to terms with what she was experiencing.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Her widened gaze flew back to his.
“Something is happening to you.” He leaned forward. “Maybe it was started by the trauma from your husband’s betrayal, or maybe it’s been happening over the past several months. Inexplicable occurrences… things like car breakdowns or power outages. You might be having strange dreams or seeing visions of things that can’t possibly exist. Am I right?”
Her blank expression fractured, and her lips trembled. She whispered, “It’s been a couple of months now.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. She was turning out to be surprise upon surprise, all of it entirely unwelcome.
After a moment, he told her, “When you broke that vase on Thursday, I thought you were venting your rage in a way that wouldn’t hurt anybody. It never occurred to me that you had no idea what you were capable of or what you’d done.” He couldn’t stand to look at her devastated face any longer, so he pressed the tumbler of scotch into her hands.
She blew out an unsteady breath and accepted it. In a quick move, she tossed back the rest of the drink. “I felt it,” she confessed hoarsely. “I saw sparks at the edges of my vision, and I knew something had shot out of my body. And then the vase shattered.”
“Yes.” He nodded. Obeying an impulse he didn’t stop to define, he touched her warm, soft skin, rubbing the sensitive spot at her inner elbow with his thumb. “That was you. There isn’t one in a hundred thousand people like you. Not one in a million, possibly ten million. You hold an incredibly rare Power, and you’re just now coming into it.”
Carefully, she pulled away to run her fingers through her hair. “But this doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered. “We