A Dangerous Witch (Witch Central Series: Book 3) by Debora Geary Read Free Book Online Page A

who went unnoticed.  Nat fired off yet another burst of gratitude to whatever rightness in the universe had placed Shay in the heart of the Sullivans instead.  She reached out to touch a pink cheek.  “Thanks for coming to do yoga with me this morning.”
    “I like it.”  A head tipped back up, eyes shining.  “It helps my heart dance.”
    It had helped a teenaged Natalia discover that she had a heart left at all.  “It can help with the hard stuff, too.  If you ever need it to.”
    Shay nodded.  “I wish I knew something that could help Mia wait.  That’s hard for her.”
    It was hard for most of the planet. 
    Nat breathed.  And shared one of her toughest-won lessons.  “Sometimes we can help best just by being peaceful in our own hearts.”
    “Mia’s not very peaceful.”  Shay grinned.  “I’m writing a song for her.  It kind of sounds like a dragon who ate way too many cookies.”
    Only an eleven-year-old would try to pull that off on a flute.  Nat grinned back, adoring the unique soul that was this particular niece. 
    And pushed up into a backbend.  This particular morning’s song wasn’t nearly done yet.
    -o0o-
    Moira breathed in the cool of early morning as the sun teased her face, hinting at the power it would have in a few hours.  She so loved this time of day.
    And apparently on this morning, she wasn’t the only one awake.  Jamie had texted—one very grumpy niece had been trying to light candles for an hour.
    Trainer, calling for backup.
    Moira shifted the age-old remedy for frustrated witchlings into one hand and knocked on Nell’s front door.  She’d ported in a couple of blocks away to enjoy the sunshine.  Now it was time to get to work.
    Aervyn pulled open the door, took one look at the chocolate cake, and pointed down the hall.  “She’s in The Dungeon with Uncle Jamie, and she’s kinda mad.”
    Moira hid a smile.  “There’s a second cake cooling on my counter back home if you want to fetch it.  With raspberry frosting.”  And two more that had already gone to visit Aaron over at the inn.
    His eyes gleamed bright.  “That’s my favorite.”
    Aye.  And the one in her hands, with orange frosting, was the kind Mia loved best.  Morning came earlier on the East Coast, and an old witch had wakened with visions of Great-gran’s best cake recipe dancing in her head.  “I know it, sweet boy.  And if you eat very quietly, maybe you’ll get the whole thing to yourself.”
    “No way.”  His giggles still carried the delight of small boys and sunshine.  “Not unless I go hide on the moon.”
    She’d always tried the green hills behind the village.  That hadn’t generally worked either.  Moira ruffled his hair.  “It’s a very big cake.  Lots to share.”
    “’Kay.”  He made it two steps down the hallway, and then turned, eyes shifting gears for one last moment.  “I think Mia needs a hug.  And her head hurts, but she doesn’t want Uncle Jamie to know.”
    Witchling heads could hurt for a lot of reasons—but most of them could be fixed with orange frosting or a hug.  An old witch had both in sturdy measures.  Moira smiled at the final glimpse of Aervyn making a beeline for the fork drawer.  He would make sure everyone within fetching distance got some.  A child raised in generosity, paying it forward with every breath.
    Time to go visit the one who wasn’t having such an easy time of it today.  Carefully, Moira made her way down the stairs to the command center for Realm—and judged from the growls that she had arrived just in time.
    I’ll say.  Jamie sounded more than a little relieved.  She has no idea how to quit.
    Moira snorted.  Quietly.  Family trait. 
    Sometimes it’s useful.  Jamie kept a peripheral eye on his trainee.  But not today.  We haven’t made it past step one yet—she still can’t see the flows. 
    One trainer sounded a mite frustrated too.  It’s early days yet.  Sometimes power emerges oddly.