To Love A Witch (A Novel Nibbles title) by Debora Geary Read Free Book Online

many ways that could end badly.
    Since they’d somehow drifted onto the one topic
that made her more uncomfortable than magic, Romy headed back to
safer ground. “So, where do I find my inner instruction manual that
knows how to tame these fireballs?”
    Carla tossed a ball of light from palm to palm.
“That depends how much you trust me.”
    “To feed me, entirely. Beyond that, you need to
explain what you have in mind.”
    “A skeptical witch, are you? Good.” Carla sent
her ball of light upward and turned it into fireworks. “There are
two ways we can do this. Kind of like teaching a child to tie their
shoes. You can sit and talk them through it, but that’s confusing,
and requires lots of trial and error. Or you can put your hands
over the child’s hands, and guide. Faster, easier, but it requires
some trust.”
    Cute, but shoes weren’t fireballs. “That just
seems like a good way to get us both scorched.”
    Carla’s eyes flashed. “You don’t think I can
handle your fire?” She stood up and backed away several steps. “Go
ahead, hit me with whatever you have.”
    Well there’s a shocker, thought Romy. The
Italian fire witch has a temper. “I can’t handle my fire—is it
really so shocking I don’t trust anyone else to, either?”
    Carla stared for a second, and then sat back
down. “See that rock over there, the one that’s standing on
end?”
    Romy saw it. The top of Tabletop was littered
with smaller rocks. This one was covered in long, black lines.
    “If things head out of control, you just fire
away at that rock. It can take a few more scorch marks. I use it
for target practice all the time.”
    “Target practice?”
    “I’m Italian. I have a temper and a husband
who’s not perfect. When he pisses me off, I come beat up on the
rock.” Carla’s voice gentled. “You’re not the only witch who has a
hard time with her magic and strong emotions. You can borrow my
rock any time you need to. For now, I’m asking you to trust that
you can’t produce anything the rock and I can’t handle.”
    Romy wasn’t sure during what part of bagels and
conversation she’d decided to let Carla help, but apparently she
had. “Okay. What do I do?”
    “Close your eyes. I’ll cast a small spell to
help our magic connect. Then we’ll make a little ball of
light.”
    Romy closed her eyes and hoped neither of them
lived to regret this.
    “ I ask the power of fire and light,
    Join we two in inner sight.
    The magic inborn and its flows,
    What her blood already knows,
    Let willing heart and mind to see.
    As I will, so mote it be.”
    Romy felt a jerk inside, and then a gentle
warmth she somehow knew was Carla’s guiding hands. There were no
words, just a quiet murmur of sound.
    And then there was a web glowing inside her
body, streaming lines of starbright power. Romy didn’t have to be
told she was seeing the magic that lived in her. Carla’s mental
hands over hers, Romy followed the streaming lines that ran to her
fingers.
    A moment of fear—this is where the sparks lived.
A touch to reassure. Slowly, ever so slowly, she let the streaming
lines reach beyond her fingertips and asked them to curl
around.
    When Romy opened her eyes, a small ball of light
sat in her palm.
    “Your Gran would be proud,” Jake said.
    Crap. Sparks flew in Romy’s hands, and she
grabbed desperately for control.
    Carla turned around and sent a fireball blazing
into the ground a foot from Jake’s toes. “Do you not know any
better than to sneak up on a fire witch? Idiot man, have I taught
you nothing?”
    She turned back to Romy. “I take it back. Feel
free to use him for target practice.”
    Romy’s fingers clenched with the effort to hold
in her fire. The ball of light was gone, and her heart ached from
the one small moment of magic freed.
    “Do it again,” Jake said, moving closer. “Do it
while you’re angry and fighting for control.”
    “I can’t.” And she couldn’t hold it much longer,
either.
    Jake