A Lost Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 7) Read Free Page A

if it’s safe for her to leave.”  She touched Devin’s cheek softly.  “She’s a witch, my brave boy—but she might also be too far gone to save.  She wouldn’t be the first.”
    The last words came out in a whisper barely heard, but they eviscerated Jamie’s guts all the same.  And even his feeble mind powers could feel the source of Moira’s pain.  A young woman, with a face oddly familiar—and vacant, crazed eyes.
    Her sister, sent Lauren, mind drenched in sorrow.
    Jamie stared.  He hadn’t known.
    “Magic can be cruel,” said Moira, more audibly now.  “And the damage can’t always be reversed.”
    Jamie tried to picture a world where leaving someone in a mental institution was a kindness—and shuddered.
    “You’ll need a healer.”  The firmness was coming back to Moira’s voice.  “Sophie’s at a birth, and this is no place for a child to go.”
    That much they could all agree on.  And whatever their elder witch lacked in magic, she more than made up for in mental strength.
    Jamie reached for the plate of cookies.  If he was going to be porting little old ladies hither and yon, he’d be needing them.
    Four hands met his at the plate.  Witches, preparing for battle.
    -o0o-
    They were back.
    Hannah plastered herself to the bank of the river, afraid to step into the rushing waters of her dream.  Two women, speaking with Dr. Max out in the gardens.  Talking about her.
    Darkness.  Inky, eternal blackness, and then words on a blank screen.  Words left by a soul who had somehow found a scrap of hope.  In her dream, she typed them out again.  And again.
    HELP ME.
    The women stood.  Leaving and not leaving.  This part of the dream never made any sense.
    Their faces were kind—but that wasn’t why her dream-self watched.
    It was their power.
    -o0o-
    Already, her mind was seeking.  Hannah.  Lauren tried to quiet her magic—Chrysalis House was a hundred miles away, nestled deep in the California hills.
    She tried to stay in the here and now.  The plan had been made so quickly.  Think.
    Coffee powered her brain through the last words of the oldest witch in the room.  Hannah could be sick.  She sought out green eyes.  “We won’t need a healer.  I’ll know if she’s sane.  If she’s safe there.”
    If the second weren’t true, they’d be bringing her home, sane or not.
    Moira returned her gaze with eyes that saw everything.  “It will be terribly difficult to look.”
    The time to worry about that wasn’t now.  She’d wimp out if she thought about it too hard.  “I can do it.”  And if she found what Moira feared, she’d be dealing with a herd of charging Sullivans, too.  Lauren focused on the one thing they knew to be true.  “She asked for help.”  Surely that was a sign of something positive.
    “Aye.  It’s a rare patient who has that much wisdom.”  Moira almost managed a smile. 
    So many needs, tugging.  Yanking.  Her husband, ready to make a Devin Sullivan-sized hole in a brick wall.  Nell and Jamie, treading water in the horror for ten minutes longer than the rest of them.  And the one they’d leave behind. 
    Lauren started with the last, crouching down in front of the honorary grandmother of them all.  “You’d know best what kind of space she would find comforting.  Why don’t you set that up?  Wake up some people if you need them.”  There wasn’t a person alive who wouldn’t jump at Moira’s call. 
    Green eyes latched on to the task.  “At Jamie’s house, I think.  Nat and Kenna have already come to the inn, and the space is welcoming and well guarded.”
    Meant to keep one toddler and her wild magic safe.  That would work. 
    Lauren closed her eyes, running through what little plan they had one more time.  And finally saw the red warning lights flashing behind her eyelids.  She slammed down her mind barriers for a moment, trying to focus.  Trying to grab the loose end of string that led to the core of whatever was