by Debora Geary
Moira smiled, eyes filled with pleasure. “Just a small gift from my hands to your house. I put my great-granny’s best blessing spell in there. She was a water witch of some repute.”
Magic flowed out of the blanket and into Sierra’s soul. It was like… floating in warm ocean waters. Sierra cuddled the throw to her cheek, completely unable to put it down.
Mia tugged on her hand. “There’s a bigger one on your bed—come look!”
Sierra let herself be swept along by the friendly crowd into the lavender haze of her bedroom. The blanket that covered her bed was the last thing she expected. Dizzy squares were stitched together in a drunken mess of uneven color. Mia put her hand on a bright red square. “This one is mine.”
Ginia was next, on a square that was pink and glittery. “And this one’s mine.”
Devin grinned and touched a blue not-quite-square. “Mine. It’s been a while since I did any knitting.”
A woman Sierra didn’t know elbowed him. “That’s pretty obvious, my boy.” She touched a square that spoke of warm fires and looked at Sierra. “I’m Caro, and this one’s mine.”
One by one, the crowd of people in the room each laid a hand on her blanket. Aervyn squeezed through and plopped down in the middle. “Not everybody could come tonight, so they sent squares to cuddle you until they can show up.” He stuck his finger into a large hole in a fire-engine-red square. “This one’s mine. Sorry ’bout the hole, but Caro says that way you won’t forget which one I made.” He held out his arms for a hug, all innocent boy.
Sierra hopped onto the bed and pulled him into her lap, looking up at the sea of faces. Total strangers had made her a blanket. The most beautifully ugly blanket in the world. She had no words.
Nell leaned over and touched her hair. “It’s a welcome blanket. We usually make one for new babies in the witching community, but we didn’t know about you until now, so we’re a little late. Welcome to our world, Sierra Brighton.”
Six years of ice in Sierra’s soul simply melted, and she let her heart float on the swells of love in the room.
She had a home. With an ocean for walls, patchwork love on her bed, and pink pigs in the kitchen. It was every kind of awesome.
Aervyn wiggled in her lap. “Sophie and Elorie and Nat are having babies soon, so you can make squares for them if you want. I can show you how, or Caro can. She’s the bestest teacher.”
Very slowly, she nodded. It felt like a promise.
~ ~ ~
Lauren followed the flood of people exiting Sierra’s apartment and found herself standing on the sidewalk beside Devin, shivering slightly in the crisp, wintery air.
He grinned. “Walk you home?”
Home was less than three blocks away, and she was a big girl. Then she realized he had something on his mind. “Sure.”
He slipped his fingers companionably in hers, nice and warm, and they walked quietly for a while. “Do you think Sierra’s going to fall asleep in The Monster?”
“Yup. I’m pretty sure that was Nell’s intent.” They’d all left with Sierra and three giggly girls burrowed in the couch’s depths, armed with movies and a humungous bowl of popcorn. “She’ll probably sleep better with the company.”
“You think those girls sleep?” Devin snorted. “Besides, no one has nightmares while The Monster’s in the house. And we beefed up Mom’s spell, just to make sure.”
The couch had depths she wasn’t aware of. Lauren raised an eyebrow. “What spell?”
“Haven’t heard the story?” He grinned. “Jamie went through a stretch when his precog abilities were emerging where he had a lot of nightmares. Used to wake up screaming. One particularly memorable time, he thought a girl had been kissing him.” He paused a moment. “Huh. I wonder if that was Nat?”
Boys. “Sounds like the stuff of nightmares.”
“When you’re nine? Pretty much.” Devin sobered. “Some were really bad, so Mom told him The Monster ate nightmares, and he’d be safe if he slept there. It worked great. I found out ten years later that she’d spent three days bespelling the darned couch to keep his nightmares away.” He paused a minute, reaching into his pocket for his phone and pulling up a picture. “This is the three of us. Eighteen and cocky, headed off to college.”
In a pickup truck, with The Monster hanging off the back end. “How far did you drive with it like that?”
He shook his head. “Dunno. Couple thousand miles, I think. Jamie loves that couch. It’s moved all over the country with him.”
“And he gave it to Sierra.” There were still times when the quiet displays of love in Witch Central totally flattened her.
“Sure.” Devin shrugged. “She needed it.”
There it was—that same casual generosity. On the surface, Jamie and Devin were very different—well, once you got past their identical looks, anyhow. She’d never had any problem telling them apart. Their minds felt very different. But the same values beat in both their hearts, and for some reason, that kept surprising her.
As did the curling in her belly she felt any time Devin was around lately. Suddenly acutely conscious of their interlocked fingers, she tightened up her mental barriers. For a non-mind witch, he was very perceptive. And until she figured out what she wanted from him, she’d prefer to keep the fact that he tickled her belly and snuck into her dreams to herself.
They were almost at her house. She looked over at him, remembering the focused feel of his mind as they’d left Sierra’s apartment. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Hmm? Nope.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, dropping a casual kiss on her cheek. “I just like being with you. Have a good night.”
She walked into her small yard, pulling keys out of her bag, and turned to wave. He stood, leaning against the lamppost, effortlessly sexy. The curls in her belly multiplied. Damn. Definitely time to figure out what she wanted.
Chapter 16
Lauren glared at Jamie. “See? She just kicks you out!”
He feigned innocence. “What? It’s hardly my fault.”
Nat rubbed her belly. “I think everyone’s in agreement that all her difficult genes come from you, love.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Then they don’t know you very well.”
Lauren leaned back, amused. “I think it’s illegal to insult your wife when she’s this pregnant.” They’d been conducting another short magic lesson before breakfast, trying to teach Nat and Jamie’s unborn baby how to mind barrier. They were getting exactly nowhere. “She’s pretty determined to figure stuff out for herself already.”
Jamie groaned. “She’s just like Devin. We’re cursed.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Devin, walking into the room. “Just for that, I’m eating all the food Nell sent over.” He leaned over and casually rubbed Nat’s belly. “Except for yours, sweet girl. You need to come out soon and play with me.”
“If you can make that happen,” said Nat, grimacing as she shifted positions, “you’ll be my favorite brother-in-law forever.”
He grinned. “Much as I’d like to have that to hold over Matt’s head, I got nothing for you. Sorry. Well, except for French toast with some pink stuff on it.”
Nat’s eyes gleamed. “That’ll do.”
Lauren revised her opinion of Devin yet again. In two minutes, he’d managed to reduce the frustration level in the room ten degrees and Nat’s tension along with it. Baby magic lessons weren’t easy on the mama, either.
Do we try again? she mindsent to Jamie.
Either that, or you’re going to have to barrier her for however long Nat’s in labor. He sounded glum.
Nat stared pointedly as Devin laid a plate on top of her belly. “Feel free to have that conversation out loud, you two.”
Devin looked over. “What’s up?”
“Our baby’s got your stubborn, I-want-to-learn-it-by-myself gene,” said Jamie. “We’re trying to show her how to mind barrier. She’s not cooperating.”
“She’s ha
rdly the first stubborn witchling in the history of the Sullivans.” Devin scooped a forkful of Nat’s breakfast.
Which earned him giggles from Nat—and more points from Lauren. Her best friend had grown up with none of the normal fun of siblings and close family. It seemed like Devin was taking personal responsibility for filling in the gap. He got a lot done for a guy who looked like he wasn’t up to much of anything.
Devin plunked into an armchair and looked over at Lauren. “How are you showing her?”
“Mental hand over hand.” It was the only way she knew, at least the only way that didn’t require words. “I can’t exactly tell her to watch.” Or at least, not without being a lot more invasive than she wanted to be.
Devin looked pensive for a moment. “I wonder if that tracing thing Sierra does would work.”
Jamie’s fork stopped halfway to Nat’s plate. “Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Devin grinned. “You got the looks, I got the brains.”
Lauren was smart enough to duck as the pillow left Jamie’s hand, since she apparently wasn’t yet smart enough to keep herself out of the line of fire in the first place. “Are either of you going to explain what tracing is?”
“Nope. Sierra can show you.” Jamie looked out the front window. “That’s her now—she just ran back to her house for more clothes. It’s gonna be cold out at Govin’s this morning.” He laughed and got up as the doorbell rang. “Somebody needs to tell her witches don’t have any manners.”
Truth. Lauren still wasn’t used to people bursting in her front door at all hours of the day. She’d come home more than once to a gathering in her living room, quite comfortable to raid her fridge and chat while they waited for her to arrive.
Jamie came back into the room, Sierra on his heels. She looked contagiously happy. “Good morning, everyone!”
Witch Central strikes again, thought Lauren. Sierra’s new apartment had been put together with generosity, love, and unique decorating flair—and clearly it had totally hit the mark.
“How’s The Monster treating you?” Jamie handed her a plate of food. “Lost anyone under the cushions yet?”
She giggled. “I think Mia and Ginia slept on it all night, but we can’t find Shay. Maybe The Monster’s a cannibal.”
Devin snorted. “If it wanted a witch to eat, there’s been plenty of opportunity.”
“Maybe it was waiting for a small and tasty girl.” Sierra stabbed a piece of French toast. “You guys are kind of old and stringy.”
The guys had her upside-down, shrieking with laughter, in two seconds flat. Without moving from their chairs.
Lauren just shook her head, amused and impressed—by both the magic and the obvious message of brotherly love behind it. The Sullivans had taken in another stray. Don’t break her, she sent to Jamie. We need her to help teach that little girl of yours, remember?
A couple more shakes, and they dropped Sierra in a giggling puddle on the floor and resettled her neatly rescued plate of breakfast in her lap. Devin sat down beside her. “While you eat and mock your elders, can you tell Lauren how you trace magic spells?”
“Sure.” Sierra cocked her head, her mind suddenly jittery. “Why? Do I do it wrong?”
Devin’s mental curses rang in Lauren’s ears, but outwardly, he just rolled his eyes. “No. Because us old, stringy witches don’t know how to do it.”
Her eyes got big. “Seriously?”
“Yup. You said Aervyn does it, which explains how he picks up magic so fast.”
“Hmm.” Mouth full, Sierra thought for a moment. “Maybe he learned when he was a baby, just like I did.”
Lauren caught the sudden interest in the room. Jamie leaned forward, eyes intent. “You were born with magic?”
“Uh, huh. Just water magic at first. That’s why Momma went into the ocean while I was born.”
Jamie nodded slowly. “If she didn’t have a circle to help her, that was smart.”
Sierra grinned. “Momma was really smart. And she said I wanted to play with magic right away after I was born, so she gave me a tiny bit of her spell and let me follow it around.”
“And that’s how you learn magic, right? You start at one end of a spell thread and feel your way through.”
Sierra nodded, mouth full again. “Yup. It’s totally easy.”
Lauren tried to wrap her head around a newborn following spell threads. Weren’t they just supposed to eat, sleep, and poop?
You think that when my girl already kicks you out of her head? sent Jamie dryly. Can you monitor Sierra while she traces a simple spell of mine? See how she does it?
No rest for weary witches. Yeah.
Lauren mindwatched as Jamie created a simple fire globe—fire lines were easiest to visualize. And watched as Sierra gently untangled the end of a small spell thread, kind of like finding the beginning of a ball of yarn.
Then she jumped in shock as another mind reached for the dangling thread. You’ve got company, she sent carefully to Jamie.
His mind was full of wonder. I know.
Lauren watched, fascinated, as a small presence traced the lines of the spell—and then her eyes flew open at Nat’s sudden intake of breath.
Suspended over her belly was the twin to Jamie’s fire globe. Their little girl had done her first magic.
From the baby’s mind—pure joy. And from her teenage teacher—astonished pride.
~ ~ ~
Moira set three cups of hot chocolate on her table. It was a wondrous gift in her old age that people from thousands of miles away could just pop in for a visit. And there were few guests she loved better than her girls.
Even if they were being mysterious.
Giggles from the front of the house suggested they’d arrived. “In here, my lovelies.”
Three girls, bigger every time she saw them, bounded into the kitchen and joined her around the table. Ginia picked up her cup, sniffing. “What did you put in here?”
Moira’s eyes twinkled. “That’s for you to guess, my dear. An earth witch doesn’t give up all her secrets.” Truth be told, Ginia could probably worm it out of her, but they’d both have more fun if she offered at least token resistance.
Mia’s headshake suggested there was more serious business at hand. “We came because we need your help, Aunt Moira.”
That much she had gathered from their message. “And how can I help my three girls?”
Ginia’s eyes had that look that made Moira fiercely wish she’d be around to see the witch this one would become. “We want to find out what happened to Sierra’s mama.”
Oh, my. Moira paused a moment, shaken. This, she hadn’t expected—but maybe she should have. “Has Sierra asked for your help?”
“No.” Shay was usually the quietest of the three—and the most thoughtful. “But her heart asks.”
Aye, it did. “I’m sure it’s extremely difficult for her, not knowing.” But answers weren’t always comforting, either. She reached out gently for small hands. “You know the answer is likely to be very sad.”
“We know.” Ginia looked down at their joined hands, then tipped her head back up, eyes fierce. “But if something terrible happened to Mama, we would find out. At least then we could be sad about the right things, instead of scared of all the things that might have happened.”
“She has bad dreams,” Mia said.
Moira was well aware of that. “I know, sweet girl. And she still might, even if we find the answers you seek.” Because none of those answers would bring Amelia back. That much, her heart knew.
Shay traced one of the petals embroidered on the tablecloth. “Will you help us?”
“Aye.” It would hurt all of their hearts, but she would. “Where do you think we should start?” She was certain the girls had a plan.
“With the old and the new.” Ginia sipped her hot chocolate carefully. “We’re going to ask Jake to help us with the new part.”
Jake was the new head of Sentinel, an organization that atte
mpted to find and help witches in distress, particularly young ones. It had a bit of a spotty history, but Jake was as good as they came. And Sentinel’s magic alert system—and long record-keeping of witch incidents—was second to none. It was smart thinking. And it suggested the girls knew more than they were letting on. “You think there was magic involved when Amelia disappeared?”
Ginia’s chin jutted out. “Don’t you?”
Yes, she did. Moira tilted her head in acknowledgment. “Jake’s a good man. If there are records at Sentinel, he’ll be able to find them. You’ll need some times and dates, though, and it would hurt Sierra to ask. Your mama might have that information from the foster-care files.”
“We already know all that stuff.” Shay spoke for her sisters. “It was on the third night of Mardi Gras when she was twelve.” She grinned. “We pay attention.”
They certainly did. So far, they were taking the adults to school.
Ginia sniffed her hot chocolate again, still trying to figure out the mystery ingredient. “Jake’s the new part. We need your help with the old part.”
Didn’t that just figure. “Well, I’m certainly old, child. What do you want me to do?” Scrying probably wouldn’t help here, but she was willing to try.
Mia giggled. “You’re not the old part. We need you to convince Lauren to use her crystal ball.”
“Oh, my.” Moira paused, savoring their quick minds. “What a very good idea. Not an easy task, mind you…”
Ginia grinned. “We know. Lauren’s still a scaredy-witch on the hocus-pocus stuff.”
She was indeed. They’d had a few quick lessons on how to use Great-gran’s crystal ball, but unless Moira was mistaken, Lauren hadn’t asked it a serious question since the day before her stroke.
Mia reached over to pat her hand. “You can do it, Aunt Moira. Lauren’s a sucker for people with sad hearts.”
Moira chucked, thinking the very savvy, professional Lauren might be surprised at that particular description, apt though it was. “I’ll do my best.”
Three smiles of approval on three identical faces. They’d gotten what they’d come for.