Book of Shadows by Cate Tiernan Read Free Book Online

fished out my wallet. Buying it cleaned me out entirely.
    When I had bought my books, we took our bags and stepped again into the sunny day. Bree slipped on her sunglasses and instantly looked like a celebrity going incognito.
    “What a cool place, huh?”
    “Very cool,” I said, though for me that didn’t express even a tiny part of the emotions storming in my chest.

7
    Metamorphosis
    > < “In many villages, innocents turn to their local witch as a healer, midwife, and sorceress. I say, better to submit to the will of God, for death must come to all in time.”
    —Mother Clare Michael, from a letter to her niece, 1824 > <

    “Morgan! Mary K.!” my mom called from downstairs. “Eileen’s here!”
    I rolled off my bed, marked my place in the book, and put it on my desk next to my journal, trying to pull myself back into the regular world. I was blown away by what I had been reading—about Wicca’s roots in pre-Christian Europe thousands and thousands of years ago.
    My brain still felt glazed as I padded downstairs in my socks just as my dad came in the front door with bags of food from Kabob Palace, Widow’s Vale’s only Middle Eastern restaurant. The smell of falafel and hummus started bringing me back to my senses.
    I went into the living room, where the rest of the group was already gathered.
    “Hi, Aunt Eileen,” I said, and hugged her hello.
    “Hi, sweetie,” she said. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Paula Steen.”
    Paula stood up as I turned toward her, a smile already on my face. The first impression I had was of animals, as if Paula were covered with animals. I stopped dead and blinked. I mean, I saw Paula: She was a bit taller than I am, with sandy hair down to her shoulders and wide, pale green eyes. But I also saw dogs and cats and birds and rabbits all around her. It was weird and scary, and I felt an instant of panic.
    “Hi, Morgan,” Paula said, her voice friendly. “Um, are you okay?”
    “I’m seeing animals,” I said faintly, wondering if I should sit down and put my head between my knees.
    Paula laughed. “I guess I can never quite get all the fur off,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m a vet,” she explained, “and I just came from a Sunday clinic.” She looked down at her skirt and jacket. “I thought with enough masking tape, I might be presentable.”
    “Oh, you are!” I said, feeling stupid. “You look fine.” I shook my head and blinked a couple of times, and all the weird afterimages were gone. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
    “Maybe you’re psychic,” Paula suggested easily, as if she were suggesting that maybe I was a vegetarian or a Democrat.
    “Or maybe she’s just a weirdo,” Mary K. said brightly, and I aimed a kick at her leg.
    The doorbell rang, and I ran to get it.
    “What’s she like?” whispered Bree, stepping into the foyer.
    “ She’s great. I’m a freak,” I whispered back as Bree hung her jacket on a peg.
    “You can explain later,” she said and followed me into the living room to meet Paula.
    “Okay!” my mom announced a few minutes later. “Why don’t you all come in and sit down? Food’s ready.”
    Once we were seated and served, I thought back to what I had said. Why had I seen those images of animals? Why did I say anything?
    In spite of my weirdness, dinner was great. I liked Paula right away. She was warm and funny and obviously crazy about Aunt Eileen. I was happy to have Bree there, talking to everyone and teasing Mary K. She felt like one of us, one of our family. Once she told me that she loves coming to our house for dinner because it feels like a real family. At her house it’s usually just her and her dad. Or just her, eating alone.
    As I was helping myself to more tabouli, I looked up and absently said, “Oh, Mom—it’s Ms. Fiorello.”
    “What?” my mom asked, dipping her pita bread into some hummus. Just then the phone rang. Mom got up to answer it. She talked in the kitchen for a minute,