T*Witches: Split Decision by H.B. Gilmour, Randi Reisfeld Read Free Book Online Page B

lipstick — weighed almost more than she did.
    All in all, Alex decided, the mainland wanna-be looked like a cross between Nightmare Barbie and a hip-hop L’il Mike.
    Fists on her hips, Michaelina pouted. “Who died and left you trend queen?”
    Alex shoved her hands in her jean pockets and tried to stifle a laugh. “To answer your original question, if you’re trying to fit in, that would be a resounding no.”
    “Who said anything about fitting in? I asked if I could pass for a mainlander. I copied your look.”
    “You didn’t copy me, you did a hostile takeover. And BTW, I don’t have ‘a look.’ ” Alex retorted.
    “Are you always this grumpy in the morning?” Michaelina turned away sullenly. “There are charms to banish the morning grouchies, you know.”
    “Are there any to banish you?” Alex parried.
    Michaelina’s shoulders slumped as she faced Alex again. “I thought you’d be flattered,” she muttered. “I was trying to be like you, not follow the crowd.”
    “Point taken,” Alex conceded. “We can work with it.”
    The micro-witch brightened. “Come in. Check out my new place.”
    Alex trailed Mike into her digs, which were oddlytepee-shaped. Daylight filtered bleakly through the only window, a slanted skylight desperately seeking a scrubbing. “It already feels like home,” Michaelina proudly announced.
    “So,
homes
.” Alex purposely accented the word. “What are you really doing here? On the mainland, in this —”
    “Hovel?” Michaelina guessed.
    “You could put it that way,” Alex responded.
    “I never expected you, you of all witches, to diss my digs,” Mike challenged. “You’ve changed. A lot. When did you get all trendoid?”
    On the bus ride over,
Alex decided, not caring whether the petite witch picked up the thought. She’d been shocked at the nabe where Mike had chosen to live. Who knew this area existed just outside the pristine Marble Bay, Mass? She was shocked, too, at her own squeamishness as the bus rolled by block after block of burned-out, boarded-up stores, rickety, run-down houses, abandoned cars, and graffiti-sprayed buildings and fences —
    “Oh, and that tin-trap of a trailer you grew up in was pure luxury, right?”
    Alex was taken aback. Had she ever discussed her pre-Marble Bay life with Michaelina? The canny young witch had done her fact-checking. But why?
    “We all have ‘before’ lives, don’t we?” She was smiling when Alex looked at her. “Mine would make your hair stand up — if it wasn’t already spiked to the max. Truce, okay? Can I get you something?”
    Alex followed the girl to the farthest corner of the narrow room — and felt as though she’d been kicked in the chest. The kitchen setup — a two-burner stove on a peeling wooden counter and a dismal mini-fridge — was almost identical to the one she’d grown up with in Montana. With Sara.
    “This is a dump,” Alex struck out, ignoring the lump in her throat. “But at least it’s aboveground. As opposed to your old address.”
    “Ooooh, low blow.” Michaelina pretended to be hurt.
    The caves of Coventry Island, underground and undetected, had been the Furies’ cold, barren hideout.
    “The truth, Michaelina,” Alex demanded. “Give it up —”
    The petite urchin ignored her, opened the half-fridge, and stepped back so that Alex could look inside. “Uh-oh, empty.”
    But it wasn’t empty. On the refrigerator shelf stood a jar of peanut butter, one pocked tomato, and a wilted head of lettuce. Exactly what had been in the fridge the day Alex realized that Sara was very, very ill. The sameday she had first glimpsed Cam … Could it possibly be a coincidence? Coincidence or —
    “Conspiracy?” Mike chuckled cheerfully. “Get real, Alex. You think I toted this in?” The pixie swung the fridge door shut. “What say we hike down to the deli and grab us a couple of lattes?”
    Alex didn’t have to be asked twice. “No more lies,” she demanded after they’d