Teresa Medeiros Read Free Page A

me that
you’ve always considered that particular trait more a nuisance than a gift. But I suppose I can’t really blame you. You tried so hard to be a good little girl. I’ll never forget how hard you cried the day the principal sent you home from school because he believed you’d set off all the sprinklers out of spite. I thought my own heart would break.”
    Tabitha’s cheeks burned with remembered mortification from that incident and a hundred more like it. Like the time she’d innocently admired a dress displayed in a store window only to find herself standing stark naked in the middle of the mall, surrounded by laughing classmates. Or the time the boy she adored had finally asked her out only to be turned into a frog during their very first kiss. He’d taken Viveca Winslow to the senior prom and Tabitha hadn’t dared kiss a boy since.
    As if anticipating her thoughts, her mother leaned toward the camera.
“Your father and I are deeply concerned about the way you’ve withdrawn from the world. Neither one of us can stand to see you lock yourself away in that penthouse like a princess in a tower.”
    Tabitha snorted and wiggled her feet, discomfited by the guilt in her mother’s big brown eyes. “Yeah, Mom. A princess wearing chipmunk slippers and cold cream. You always were an incurable romantic.”
    “After much soul-searching, I’ve concluded that you might not view your talent as such a curse if you could only achieve some small measure of control over it.”
    It was Tabitha’s turn to lean forward in her chair, riveted by that single seductive word.
    Control.
    “That’s why I’ve decided to share with you the only secret I ever kept from your father.”
    Her mouth fell open. Good grief! Was she about to learn she’d been sired by the mailman?
    The story that followed was even more inexplicable. Lapsing into occasional French, Arian rambled on about magic charms, warlocks, corrupt ministers, microprocessors, and wicked magicians until Tabitha’s head began to reel with the effort it took to follow her dizzying flights of logic. Her mother’s talent for circumventing a point had always been one of her less endearing traits. By the time Arian paused for breath, Tabitha had decided she was either poking fun at her or in desperate need of psychotherapy.
    But the look Arian gave her was so tender, Tabitha could not help but be transfixed by it.
“So now you understand why I let your father believe I destroyed the amulet all those years ago.”
    Tabitha frowned, more clueless than before.
    “I trust you will use it wisely, my dear, to focus and restrain your remarkable powers.”
Her mother touched two fingers to her lips and blew the camera a kiss, bittersweet longing in her eyes.
“No matter what your future may hold, you have already made me very proud
. Au revoir, ma chérie.”
    The image froze.
    Tabitha sank back in the chair, clutching Lucy without realizing it. The kitten squirmed in protest.
    Until we meet again, my darling
, her mother had said. Not farewell. Not good-bye.
Until we meet again
.
    Tabitha found scant comfort in the words. Her parents had begged her to accompany them on their Caribbean vacation, but as always, she’d insisted she was too busy, her presence too vital to her department. Had she accepted their invitation, she might have been on that plane with them.
    Dear God, what if they were really gone? Her sweet, charming mama? Her beloved daddy—the man she hadalways regarded with a wistful mix of adoration and hero worship?
    Blinded by tears she could no longer blame on eyestrain, Tabitha stretched a hand toward her mother’s image. “Oh, Mama,” she whispered. “I wish …”
    The word died in her throat, smothered by bitterness. She must never wish. It was the one thing denied her. Because neither money nor magic could protect her from the disastrous consequences of her longing.
    Tabitha tapped the escape key. She had forgotten to cancel her audio selection, so as