A Modern Witch Page 9

  They made their way into her building and up the four flights of stairs. Lauren cursed every one. Quietly. Even loud thoughts hurt her head.

  Nat dragged her through the door and over to the couch. “Idiot,” she said, tucking a warm throw over Lauren. “I’ll go make tea.”

  Jamie sat down. Lauren felt the push inside her head. Ow.

  “Relax. I can’t help if you don’t let me in.”

  Oh, sure. Just what she needed—someone trampling over whatever was left of her mangled mind. Figuring it couldn’t get any worse, Lauren tried to relax.

  The trickle of warmth was heavenly. It spread out and coated her tortured head, bringing relief in waves. Lauren opened her eyes.

  “Thank you—that’s so much better.”

  Nat walked in with the tea. “Lauren, what happened?”

  “Not sure. I went to get some bagels. When I opened the door of the shop, it felt kind of like yesterday.” She looked at Jamie. “Did I overload again?”

  “Not this time, although you might have if we hadn’t been just around the corner. You sent out a very loud witch-in-distress bat signal, so we got there pretty quickly.”

  Lauren stopped in mid-snicker. Picking up some bagels shouldn’t set off bat signals. “Why is that happening now? I go in there every week. Something’s changed.”

  “Yeah. Your mind channels got opened pretty far yesterday, and you don’t have the skill yet to get your barriers in place quickly. Any time you go out in public for the next little while, you need to set them in place before you leave. Otherwise, you’ll get a repeat of the bagel shop, where you can’t block out what anyone near you is thinking or feeling.”

  “Now you tell me,” Lauren said dryly, taking a cup of tea from Nat.

  Jamie winced. “Sorry. Yesterday was a bit crazy. Forgot to give you the newbie mind-witch operating instructions.”

  “Are there more?”

  “Yeah. We’ll run through them today.”

  Lauren sipped her tea. She wasn’t at all impressed with the changes in her head since Jamie had shown up. There were more fun ways to earn a hangover.

  She finished the last of her tea. That and Jamie’s little repair job, and her head was feeling reasonably normal. Nice timing, the two of them showing up when they did. Speaking of the two of them…

  Lauren remembered the snippets she had picked up from Jamie’s precog episode. There was more on her agenda today than working on a better brain bubble. First off, Nat needed to know, and Jamie needed to tell her.

  Lauren looked up and realized she was way behind. She could actually see the energy between Jamie and Nat. It was like the northern lights had come to play in her living room. Bemused, she watched the colors dance for a moment.

  Jamie noticed her distraction. “Lauren, what do you see?”

  “There’s a bloody rainbow dancing between the two of you.” She fixed her gaze on Jamie. “You. Talk.”

  Jamie squirmed. “You got hit with the backwash from my precog yesterday, but you probably didn’t get much of the contents.”

  Lauren couldn’t resist. Carefully, she formed a picture in her mind—Jamie, Nat, and sunrise yoga in the meadow. The picture wobbled a bit when she pushed it toward Jamie, but his reaction was priceless. It was so cute to see a grown man blush.

  She started to put together another picture to send him—toddlers and snowmen—and was hit again by the depth of his feelings for the Nat of his future. His maybe future. Precog wasn’t a guarantee of anything, or so he said.

  Instead, she formed a thought and pushed. Be very careful with her.

  Jamie looked a little disconcerted. “You caught a lot more than I thought you did yesterday. Nice sending. We’ll work on your control after breakfast.”

  “You heard. Seems like I did pretty well.”

  “I heard.” Jamie walked toward the kitchen and threw a grin back over his shoulder. He nodded toward Nat. “So did she.”

  “I’m not fragile, Lauren. You know that.”

  “You could hear me?”

  Nat grinned. “Loud and clear. Nice trick.” She sobered again. “How are you feeling about all this?”

  “The ‘I’m a witch’ part, or ‘my best friend is going to make cute babies with a witch’ part?”

  “That’s just what might be, Lauren. Some of it might happen, or none of it.”

  Lauren considered. She’d been Nat’s closest friend for ten years. Jamie’s visions offered family—to the woman who had never really had one. She reached for Nat’s hand and squeezed gently. “What do you want, Nat?”

  Nat’s eyes filled with tears. She looked down at their joined hands and whispered. “I want it to be true.” Then she took a deep breath and looked up. “But it’s what I’ve always wanted, my whole life. All this really means is maybe I have a chance to get it. Not a promise, but a chance. It’s a gift, Lauren.”

  Lauren shook her head. She shouldn’t be surprised. Nat’s resilience and sense of hope had always been rock solid. “Does this mean you’re going to be dating a witch?”

  Nat gave her a lopsided grin. “Something like that.”

  “This is one weird February.”

  Jamie walked back into the room, balancing three plates of bacon and eggs. “You can stop talking about me now.”

  Okay, she was impressed. “You cook?”

  “I do. And I assume you’re starving.”

  “I am. Were you eavesdropping?” It occurred to Lauren that he might well be able to do that.

  “No. To quote my mother, ‘just because witches can, doesn’t mean they should’.”

  Nat cocked her head. “So, you could have listened.”

  “Didn’t, but yeah, that’s fairly basic magic. Lauren here will be able to do it fairly shortly. Telepathy works fairly well over short distances. For me, it’s easier to do with an elemental spell. I’d activate air to push the sound currents far enough for me to hear, or something similar. Not that I’ve ever done it, of course,” he added with a grin.

  Lauren laughed. “Liar.” She took two of the plates from Jamie and walked over to her small dining table.

  “Every witchling tries it at least once. Takes longer for some of us to get caught, but in a family of witches, it’s hard to come up with something new. My mom set up a counterspell that turned my ears bright red for days. End of my career as a witch spy.”

  Lauren’s interest in witching families was suddenly more personal. “Do most witches have children with power, too?”

  “It depends. Witching talents definitely run in families. In my family, I’d say on average, one child in two is a witch. A few more have wisps of talent—not enough to do anything with, just a few echoes. They tend to give birth to witchlings, though. Kind of like they’re carriers for witching talent, even if they don’t manifest any real power themselves.”

  Lauren thought about her family. “So ,was one of my parents maybe a carrier or something? How did I end up a witch?”

  Jamie shook his head. “That’s one of the questions that make witch genealogists a little nuts. Nobody knows. Maybe there were unrecognized or hidden talents in your family, but about twenty-five percent of witches have no family history. Odds are you fit into that group.”

  Nat had been really quiet. Lauren gave herself a mental kick. She wasn’t the only one with reason to have a personal interest in witches and their families. Dating a witch was one thing. Having his babies was a whole other pile of stuff to think about.

  She squeezed Nat’s hand under the table. “So, what’s next in Witch Training 101?”

  “We need to get you to a place where you can walk down the street without overloading. Eventually, you’ll be able to control your barriers and decide how much you want to take in. For now, though, we need to use the bricks.”

  “What happened to bubbles?”

  “That was a good idea until I blew your channels wide open. If you want to go to work tomorrow, we need to practice brick walls. Once you have those down,
we’ll get back to bubbles. We’ll use Nat as the measuring stick. I want you to build a barrier tight enough that you can’t sense anything from her anymore. If you can block one person totally, that’s a start to what you’ll need in a crowd.”

  “I can’t hear her now.”

  Jamie patted her hand cheerfully. “That’s because I have a nice concrete wall around your head right now, the one I put in place outside the bagel shop. Come on into the living room, and I’ll take it down.”

  …

  Nell was getting seriously itchy to hear from Jamie. She knew how much trouble he could dig himself into in a few hours. It was a big sister’s job to throw him a rope.

  Or to harass him about pretty ladies and snowmen. The sister job description was wide ranging and flexible. Nell grabbed her phone and texted Jamie. Chat. Now. She added ‘please’ when she messaged Sophie and Moira.

  Nell: About time, brother mine.

  Sophie: Jamie! We’ve been dying for an update. How is it going with Lauren?

  Jamie: I just left. I’m pretty sure she hates me at this exact moment. We worked on barriers for three hours solid.

  Moira: That seems a bit much, Jamie. Aren’t you in a bit of a hurry?

  Jamie: I don’t have a choice. She overloaded yesterday.

  Sophie: Ouch. What happened?

  Jamie: My fault. We were doing some really basic work with barriers. She was finally making some progress, and I got hit with a precog episode. Only had two in the last year, and one hits when I’m mindlinked with a newbie witch.

  Nell: Must have been a heck of a precog episode to jump your control, Jamie.

  Jamie: Yeah, it was. She got caught in the backwash and it overloaded her channels. It probably wouldn’t have, except she’s extremely sensitive. She’s going to be a hell of a mind witch.

  Moira: You’re sure of that?

  Jamie: She went down for bagels this morning and got hit by all the minds in the bakery. I heard her distress call from two blocks away.

  Moira: That’s incredible range for an untrained witch.

  Jamie: Exactly. I can’t begin to send that far, and it would be on Aunt Jennie’s upper limits, I think.

  Moira: If she’s got the sensitivity to match her sending, you’ve got a bit of a challenge on your hands.

  Jamie: That’s why we just did three hours of barrier work. She needs some nice, thick walls for now so she can at least function while we work on the finer details of barrier control.

  Moira: That will be leaving her mind blind, Jamie. She’s likely used to reading at least a little, even if she’s not aware of it.

  Jamie: I know, but it’s better than being wide open. It only takes her a few seconds to get a solid wall in place now—she’s learning quickly. I did try to explain to her that she’ll feel fairly cut off from people. I don’t think she’s aware of how much she was probably using her power before, so I suspect she’s got a bit of a surprise coming tomorrow.

  Sophie: How can we help, Jamie? I can send some crystals and lotions that will help block her sensitivity a little.

  Jamie: That would be great. She needs all the tools she can get right now. The bigger issue, though, is that she needs training, and she’s going to need it soon. I can work with her for a bit, but she’s rapidly going to outpace what I can teach her.

  Moira: We have a couple of powerful empaths here, but no one with strong telepathy as well.

  Nell: Bring her here, Jamie. Aunt Jennie’s the obvious choice. Empath and telepath both, and also a decent spellcaster. We don’t know if Lauren will channel or cast, but if she does, Aunt Jennie can handle it.

  Jamie: That’s what I was thinking, too.

  Nell: Find out when she can come. I’ll talk to Aunt Jennie.

  Moira: I think that’s wise. Lauren can’t be left half-trained if she has that kind of power. Thank you for the update, Jamie. I’m needing to head off to bed now. The flight back from Ireland was a lot for these old bones.

  Sophie: Good night, Aunt Moira. I’ll go as well; I have some remedies cooking on the stove.

  Nell: Jamie, can you stay a minute? I have something else to ask you.

  Jamie: Sure, what’s up?

  Nell: So, who’s the blonde chick?

  Jamie: ???

  Nell: Aervyn saw you building a snowman with some woman with blonde hair.

  Jamie: Oh, crap. He must have caught the edge of my stupid precog. Is he okay?

  Nell: Is he ever not okay? The kid creates magical hurricanes and asks for a snack. He just wants to know who she is. Details, brother mine. What’s going on?

  Jamie: Long, long story.

  Nell: Type fast.

  Jamie: Have mercy. I’ll be back in a few days, and I’ll fill you in then. It’ll keep.

  Nell: Aervyn says you love her. And that there’s a little boy that looks just like him. Spill.

  Jamie: Oh, God. The embarrassment never ends. I saw my future, Nell. Or at least, a possible future, complete with Lauren’s blonde friend and Aervyn’s little clone.

  Nell: Oh, wow. Are you okay?

  Jamie: Honestly—not sure yet.

  Nell: Come home, so I can tease you in person.

  Jamie: Love you too, Nell.

  Nell: Aervyn misses you.

  Jamie: Apparently enough that he picked up my stuff three thousand miles away. That’s scary, Nell. I had no idea that kind of range was possible.

  Nell: Trust me, I’m not thrilled. I assume part of it is that the two of you are so tight. Beyond that, I don’t really want to think about it.

  Jamie: You know, he’s the only one at home besides Aunt Jennie who has really strong mind talents. He would have fun doing some training with Lauren. Maybe he’d learn some magical manners.

  Nell: Yeah, good luck with that. She’s really that strong?

  Jamie: I think so.

  Nell: Get her here, then.

  Jamie: I’ll work on it. Tell Aervyn I love him, and to stay out of my head. Love you, too.

  Chapter 9

  Lauren walked into her office Monday morning knowing it would be a very good day. The Greenleys were coming in to sign the final paperwork on the brownstone contract, and her head was lovely and quiet, thanks to some kick-ass brick walls.

  To avoid a repeat of the bagel shop disaster, Jamie had drilled Mind Magic 101 yesterday until both she and Nat begged for mercy. Taskmaster he might be, but this morning before leaving her apartment, she had visualized a brick wall of protection and felt it drop into place with a quick and satisfying thunk. She was making progress, even if Jamie had added a little extra reinforcement spell to her own capabilities. Just a precaution.

  With cheery waves to a few colleagues, Lauren slipped into the conference room and greeted the Greenleys. “Hello, you two. I just stopped by the selling realtor’s office and picked up the accepted offer. A couple of signatures from both of you, and we’ll be set. You’ll be in your new home in a few weeks.”

  Kate leaned into Mitch and grinned. “We’re so excited. It’s such a perfect home for us; we can’t thank you enough.”

  This was the part Lauren loved best—a successful match. She reached for Kate’s hand. “Invite me to the baby shower. I love to see my clients in their homes.”

  She couldn’t feel it. Kate was obviously brimming over with happiness; the room should have been vibrating from it. Instead, with a head swaddled in bricks, Kate Greenley could have been a stranger.

  Lauren held on to her composure as she walked them through the paperwork. She wanted to cry. Being a realtor was serious work, and a lot of the work was disappointment and drudgery. The payoff came with what she thought of as the three C’s—click, contract, and close.

  The moment when a client clicked with a property was the absolute best—nothing beat it. But finalizing the contract and handing over the keys on closing day mattered, too. Those were the moments she worked for, and here she was in the middle of one of them, missing all the good stuff. She knew the Greenleys were happy
, but dammit, she wanted to feel their happiness.

  It was hard not to curse Jamie. Before he’d shown up, none of this had been an issue. She hadn’t asked to be a witch. Her life had been just fine without some freaky magical accident waking up her twitchy mind powers.

  And that, thought Lauren, was more than enough whining. It had happened, and she would deal. Time to stop feeling sorry for herself. She controlled the bricks.

  She thought back through Jamie’s instructions and blew a candy-pink mental bubble inside the brick wall. Then she gave a swift and satisfying kick to a couple of bricks and watched a hole open up.

  Like a dam breaking, thought and feeling rushed through the hole. A green room, gorgeous artist murals on the wall, and sleeping baby in the crib. Satisfaction at a big item checked off the to-do list, and a tinge of both pride and worry about the future. Warm floating and a rhythmic drumbeat, da-dum, da-dum. So peaceful.

  Concern! “Lauren.” Mitch had a hand on her shoulder.

  “Sorry?” Lauren felt oddly disoriented. There was a strange drumming in the background, and worry radiating off Mitch and Kate.

  Too deep. Too much. Bricks, fix the hole. Trying not to panic, Lauren retreated and imagined her brick wall firm, strong, and unbroken. Okay, hole plugged.

  “I’m so sorry. I had a bit of a crazy weekend.”

  Kate grinned. “I hope he was cute.”

  If only it were that simple. Lauren flipped through the paperwork one last time and arranged to deliver keys to the brownstone on the closing date. As the Greenleys walked out of the room, she deflated into a chair.

  On Friday, when she’d found the Greenleys their brownstone, she was a realtor with impeccable instincts. Now it was Monday, and she was a witch with an oversensitive head and a big mess of bricks and bubbles she couldn’t control.

  What had just happened? Obviously, kicking holes in a brick wall was bad for more than her toes. It had been too much at once. The mental to-do list had to have been Mitch. The green room with the amazing murals must have been Kate’s vision for the nursery—the baby in the crib had looked like a miniature Mitch.