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

crouched down and cradled her face in his
hands. “You can. Magic lives in you. Be with it; make it
yours.”
    Romy wasn’t sure what she saw in his eyes, but
it pushed on her to believe. Reaching her hands up over his, she
closed her eyes and tried to see the web. All she saw were sparking
ends, like someone had come and attacked her power lines with
boxcutters.
    She felt Jake’s hands on her face. Magic lived
in them, just as it lived in her.
    The magic was hers to embrace and command. He
believed it, and for a heartbeat, she did too. That was just long
enough.
    Romy reached her hands to the sky and felt the
sparking ends snap back into place. Power poured up through her
arms and out her fingers. Just like before, she asked the magic to
curl and form a ball. This time when she opened her eyes, an orb
the size of a house hung over her head.
    Her entire body vibrated with the zing of magic
unleashed and unafraid.
    “Holy shit,” said Jake. “The newspaper’s going
to be printing stories about UFO sightings again.”
    Romy went with her impulse. She leaned in and
kissed him.

Chapter 10

    Jake carried bowls of minestrone to the table.
One of the serious perks of hanging out with Romy was that Carla
seemed to think she was a starving orphan. He could handle a more
regular supply of Franco’s cooking.
    Romy followed with some hunks of fresh bread.
“This smells like heaven. Everyone is bribing me with good food
lately; I could get used to that.”
    “Carla figured you’d be hungry after playing
with fire up on the Rock, so she sent enough for you, me, and ten
friends.”
    Romy grinned. “Maybe I’ll sneak a loaf of bread
into the kids later today. Center food is only a small step up from
sawdust.”
    Jake had been pondering how to quietly help out
with Romy’s kids. “Will they let outside food in if we make a
formal request?”
    “I doubt anyone’s ever asked.” She frowned.
“What do you have in mind?”
    He shrugged, not sure how to play this. “I
figured some good food at rehearsals might be nice. Franco could
make pizza or something.”
    He had her entire attention now. “You want to
feed my kids? Why?”
    “You got something against Franco’s pizza?” She
just looked at him. Damn. He’d hoped to just slide this in under
the radar, but he needed her help navigating the Center’s paperwork
monster.
    “Why do you do Delinquent Drama?”
    She scowled. “What’s that got to do with
pizza?”
    He swiped half her slice of bread, dunked it in
olive oil, and fed it back to her. He was about to compliment her
big time, and he wanted her mouth full enough she wouldn’t
interrupt. “I think you do it for two reasons. One, to give them
some reason to get through to the next day. I figure you know
exactly what it’s like to be marking time in there.”
    She just nodded and chewed.
    “And two,” he continued, “I think you want them
to get some practice pretending to be somebody different than a kid
from the hood. Maybe some of it sticks, and they have a chance to
step into a different life when they get back outside.”
    Now she just stared, cheeks full of bread.
    He went in with his final blow. “I think you’re
a secret optimist. You mean for some of those kids to make it.”
    “It’s just drama.”
    Like hell it was. “Yeah, and it’s just
pizza.”
    Whatever Romy was about to say got interrupted
by his computer ringing. That could only mean one thing. Everyone
else in his life called his cell. His mother used Skype—she liked
to see his face while they talked.
    Then the phone in his pocket started to vibrate.
Damn. That meant Mom was serious.
    “Sorry,” he said, walking over to his laptop.
“I’m being paged.”
    “Sentinel alert?” Romy asked.
    “No. Mom alert.” He held up his vibrating phone.
“And a fairly insistent one if she’s using multiple channels.”
    Romy laughed. “Take your time—then I won’t have
anyone fighting me for the rest of the bread.”
    The woman could