The Witch Collector Part II Read Free Page A

light his white hair was more subdued, and he looked even smaller than I’d remembered. He spotted me and waved.
    “You know that guy?” Shelley said.
    “He saved me from the demon,” I said, waving back to the priest.
    “Seriously? That coffee looks like it’s too much for him to handle.”
    “Looks can be deceiving.”
    He stood as we approached the church steps. “Breeda,” he said. “Just the witch I wanted to see.”
    Shelley and I looked at each other. “What did you call me?” I asked.
    “Well, it’s not a secret, is it?” he said. Father Brennan took a sip of his coffee. “Can I speak freely in front of your friend?”
    “Of course,” I said, though a small knot was forming in my stomach. What did he want?
    “When you left last night,” he began, “your magic should have left with you.”
    “And?” Shelley said.
    “It didn’t,” he said. “I can still feel it.”
    Shelley looked puzzled. “Why would you be able to feel it in the first place?”
    Father Brennan shrugged. “I just always have. Legend has it my family has witch blood running through it, but . . .” He gestured toward his collar. “There can’t be much left if I chose this life, right? Then again, we haven’t persecuted witches in centuries.”
    “But we haven’t forgotten,” Shelley said, though she smiled at him. “Do you mind if I step in the church to see if you’re right?”
    After a brief moment, Father Brennan nodded. Shelley bounded up the stairs and disappeared into the church.
    Father Brennan trained his bright, blue eyes on me. “Is there something off with your magic?” he asked, his tone mild. “Is that it?”
    “I hope not,” I said. I didn’t know if there was or not, but I knew that I didn’t want to discuss it with a priest. “Maybe I’m just sloppy.”
    “Maybe,” he said.
    “And you neglected to tell me about your family’s witch blood last night,” I said, changing the subject.
    “I’m sorry I wasn’t forthcoming. But neither were you.”
    Shelley walked out of the arched doors, saving me from further conversation. “You’re right about the magic,” she said, frowning at Father Brennan. “But maybe it just needs time to fade. I’ll ask my coven leader what to do if it doesn’t.”
    We said our good-byes, and then continued down the boulevard. “Do you think something is going wrong with my transition?” I asked her as we pushed open the iron gate in front of Evie’s apartment building.
    She ran a hand through her hair and tugged on a wayward curl. “I don’t know. I wish I could reassure you somehow, but that would mean ignoring what’s going on with you. I don’t want to do that.”
    “Thanks,” I said, and meant it. I didn’t want anyone shielding me from reality.
    We walked through the small front yard and up to the main entrance. The front door was locked. My body knew what I needed, and magic stirred in my veins. I tried to cut it off, and quickly rang the bell for Sandy’s place.
    She buzzed us in immediately.
    “Not what I was expecting,” Shelley whispered. “Don’t let your guard down.”
    I didn’t, but plastered a friendly smile on my face. Sandy’s door was open a crack, and I could hear noises coming from within the apartment. “Let me find my purse,” she trilled from behind the door.
    When Sandy opened the door her face fell. “You’re not Thai Smile.”
    “We just want to talk,” I said, before she could tell us to leave. “That’s all.”
    “It’s enough of a trial that you’re living in my building,” she snapped. “But now you show up at my doorstep? Your mother knows better than to show her face.”
    “Why are you so angry?” I kept my tone neutral, attempting to make the question sound innocent. Sandy wasn’t having it, and narrowed her eyes skeptically.
    “Don’t you know what your mother did?”
    I stared at her, keeping my expression blank.
    “She broke the oath with Evie,” Sandy huffed. “She destroyed their