Flames in the Midst (The Jade Hale Series) Read Free

a stranger.  If I didn’t say the right words, I would be taken for a Hunter or a Shadow Ruler, an enemy and an immediate danger.  I did not know the skill level of these men and women, nor did I know the spells they might have ready on the tips of their tongues.  My mother, however, was known as a powerful witch even after her death.  I searched my memory for words I had never used, words for which I thought I would never have a use.
    “I am,” I began in a quivering voice, “a stranger seeking solace.”  A knot in my stomach tightened.  I wanted to cry again, to run from this place or to run to my mother and cling to her as if this were a nightmare I could wake from.  The other witches at the bar turned and looked at me.  I could tell from the looks in the eyes of the two closest to me they had no idea what I had just said.  They must be Unknowns.  Sometimes, a witch does not realize his or her abilities with no one to guide them.  Families went into hiding after the witch-hunts of the 1600s, but some continued to teach each generation out of either a quest for power or a sense of responsibility to protect those who knew nothing of true good or evil.  Other families went into hiding and stopped talking about their abilities and their family history.  After a few generations, the abilities lay dormant and the people became oblivious to the world of which they were once a part.  These were the Unknowns. 
    My mother had the ability to find these people.  She was in the midst of a battle between good and evil, and she needed to find more recruits.  Some of them needed protection as well.  My mother and my aunt were members of a group called the Guardians.  They considered themselves guardians of mankind and, more specifically, of the Unknowns. 
    My mother’s light brown eyes softened when she heard my words.  She did not recognize me, but I had spoken a code indicating I was a witch looking for safety and protection.  The words neither confirmed my allegiance to the Guardians nor to the Shadow Rulers, but they did indicate I was a witch in need of help, and not a Hunter.  Experienced witches heard not only the words but also the intent behind them.  If I had been a Hunter masquerading, if I had known the words but did not have the ability to back them up, they could have spotted me from across an arena at an American Idol concert.  I could not have hidden what I was from them.  I could hide if I was a Shadow Ruler, though, but after saying the words, I would not be able to cause harm to those accepting me during my refuge.  The spell was binding.
    The woman closest to me looked jittery and terrified.  She stared at me, gripping her glass in one hand and her bar stool with the other.  Her knuckles were white and she inched back on her bar stool, closer to my mother.  In the haze of the bar and the dim lighting, I couldn’t really make out anyone’s aura.  It was strange, but I didn’t know how time travel really worked, so maybe I wouldn’t be able to read anyone’s aura tonight.  Either way, I could tell she was no danger to me.  She was scared and obviously new to this.
    My mother stood up and placed her hand on the woman’s arm.  Her tense muscles relaxed a fraction, but not entirely.  She must not be sure of my mother’s intentions yet.  She must not be convinced she was safe.  This was the night her world changed.  We had something in common.
    “What danger are you seeking solace from tonight?” came my mother’s reply. 
    I obviously couldn’t tell her the truth.  I wasn’t seeking solace from danger; I was walking into it.
    “I, I can’t remember,” I stated tentatively.  “I woke up in the parking lot outside.  I’m not sure how I got here,” I finished with a partial truth.  It was enough to gain entrance into the bar, but not enough to put my abilities in danger.  A witch cannot break any of the rules of her abilities without losing them.  If I broke