Soulbound: A Lone Star Witch Novel Read Free Page B

completely innocuous. Chamomile. Mint. A touch of lavender for luck.
    Yeah, right.
    But when I’d scented all three herbs in the cup she’d handed me, I’d decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. And while there’d been something else in there—something a little sweet that I couldn’t quite identify at the time—I’d just put it down to the agave syrup my mom’s been crazy about for months now.
    I’m not a fan of the stuff but my mother looked so anxious, and so happy to see me after my six-month absence from Ipswitch, that I hadn’t been able to disappoint her. I’d drunk the entire stupid cup in one long gulp to make up for the unpleasant taste.
    I’m paying for it now, big time, which makes me an even bigger fool today than I was eight years ago. Back then, I’d still been trying desperately to live up to her expectations of me, to be the witch she wanted me to be. In the last few years, though, I’ve given up on trying to be something I’m not and have instead built a life for myself that I’m proud of—away from my hometown.
    Away from the magic that is so much a part of this place.
    Which, I suppose, makes my momentary gullibility more understandable. It’s been a while since I’ve been around the insanity and I’ve obviously forgotten how bad it can get. It was a mistake to think that I would be safe here, even for a couple of days.
    After all, from the moment I walked away from Ipswitch and the magical legacy I had no hopes of living up to, my mother has been desperate to get me back. She’ll stop at nothing to find a way to unlock the powers I’m perfectly content without, will do anything to turn me into the Magic Barbie she’s always wanted me to be. Maybe if I’d remembered that, instead of thinking about how much I’d missed her, I’d be in better shape now.
    Live and learn, I suppose. And just to be clear, I’d
really
like the chance to live through this. I send the thought out into the universe even as I wonder if the number for Poison Control is the same as it was when I was a little kid.
    I reach for the phone, but it falls to the ground before I can wrap my hand around it—whether by accident or design, I’m not sure. The fact that it’s perfectly believable that my mother would have charmed the phone to prevent me from calling for help is one more glaring piece of evidence against both of us.
    Idiot, idiot, idiot…The word thrums through my brain, a triple-syllable repeating chorus that echoes the three-step cramping in my stomach.
    Squeeze, tighten, release.
    Squeeze, tighten, release.
    I-Di-Ot.
    I didn’t know anything could hurt this much. Had my mother inadvertently given me too much of whatever this is, or had I simply poisoned myself by drinking thetea too quickly? I call out for help, then curl myself into a ball and pray for death. Maybe living isn’t all it’s cracked up to be after all—at least not if it comes with this.
    “Hey, Xandra, what’s wrong?” Rachael asks from her spot near the door. Though she normally doesn’t have much use for me, her most prominent power
is
healing. My illness must have called to her, overcoming her usual lack of interest.
    “Tea,” is all I manage to say, but it’s enough. She rushes into the room and lays a cool hand on my forehead.
    “Mom’s crazy,” she tells me. “I swear, your latency has pushed her completely around the bend.”
    “What did she give me?”
    She looks at my pupils, shakes her head. “Best guess?” she asks grimly. “Belladonna.”
    I shudder at the confirmation of my worst fear. Guaranteed to bring out even the most latent magic—or so the herbal practitioners promise—belladonna has been a staple in witch gardens for centuries. I know my mom grows it, but I thought she burned it to get to its essence. Never in a million years did it occur to me that she would actually go so far as to feed me the toxic plant. Especially since, so far, the only thing it’s brought out in me is my