A Different Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 5)

A Different Witch

by Debora Geary

Copyright 2012 Debora Geary

Fireweed Publishing

Kindle Edition

A Quick Character Reminder :)

Many of you have asked for a way to remind yourselves of the characters in my books, so that you can better enjoy the newest book.  With that in mind, here goes!

At the core of Witch Central are the Walkers and the Sullivans.  Nell and Daniel head up the Walker clan and have five children—Nathan, Ginia, Mia, Shay, and Aervyn.   Nell’s younger triplet brothers (Jamie, Devin, and Matt Sullivan) have grown the family a lot lately.  Jamie is married to Nat, and baby Kenna is almost a year old now.  Devin married Lauren, and we met Matt’s love, Téo, briefly in
A Witch Central Wedding
.

Moira and Sophie represent the Fisher’s Cove witches in this book, with minor mentions of a few others.  We also return to visit Tabitha and the wonderful work she does with children with autism, including Jacob, the little boy who loves to spin.

Because I couldn’t resist, this book also has an appearance from Lizard (Lauren’s assistant—her story is told more fully in the
Witchlight
trilogy).

And you might also remember a certain coven that Lauren and Jamie visited in Chicago, way back in
A Modern Witch
.  Beth was the coven leader, Liriel their resident mind witch.  To say anything more would be spoiling the story to come.  Happy reading :).

Prologue

Beth stirred in her sheets, dreaming.  The eyes had come again.

Her fingers reached for magic the way they always did, hoping for the light brush of
other
that would mean she’d found it.  The touch didn’t always come.  Magic was fickle.

And he watched, the man with brown eyes.

Her circle stood in silent support, not trusting the stranger in their midst.  A decade of study and work, building the magic together—invaded by a man who could make a fire globe in two breaths.

She’d made
one
.  Ever.  And it had taken three days of careful, laborious preparation.

Jealousy stirred in her veins, knowing where the dream went next.

The eyes were distracting her—she needed to pay attention.  Circle work required focus.  Mellie’s rich alto called to earth, a steady beat in a circle of nerves.  The stranger called on air, his deep voice an odd counterpoint to the female energies she’d always associated with magic. Beth felt the soft presence of Liriel behind her, friend and partner.  Watching the circle, monitoring.

And then the stranger reached out his hand, air to fire, his energy to hers.  Closing the circle.

Her circle.

Or it
was
hers—until their magics touched.

Ten years of hard work, and she almost dropped her circle on its head.

It wasn’t the power he fed to her, although she knew, somewhere in her dreaming mind, that he kept it well throttled.  It was like touching the whisker of a lion—soft, sturdy, and attached to something fearsome.

It wasn’t the power that rocked her soul—it was the window that came with it.  Three gently glowing lines of energy, undulating gently, one beside the next.  She knew without asking what they were.  Every time she worked a circle, she trusted that the elemental magics would come.  She felt them rising, the murky, mysterious energies that witches sought to power their craft.

But she’d never
seen
them before.

With careful, reverent fingers, Beth reached for the glowing lines, barely breathing even in her dream.  Mesmerized by the dancing light, she wove the delicate, finicky spell that would light a candle if done exactly right.

Felt victory flare in her veins as the first flame lit.

And then, fueled by joy, did it again.

Her circle rejoiced.  And still the stranger watched with his distant, daring eyes.

Beth cuddled deeper into her blue silk sheets, waiting for the words that would shatter her world.

Her best moment as a witch—and they’d been doing it all wrong.

Chapter 1

Lauren opened the door to The Center for Families and oophed as a freight train hit her belly.  Laughing, she squatted down to Jacob’s level—his greetings usually came headfirst these days.  “Hi, sweetheart.  Can I give you a hug?”

He stared at something just past her head. Avoiding her eyes. 

She waited, giving him time to process.  It had been one of the very first lessons Tabitha had taught her.  The Center had a reputation for unusual success reaching some of the most difficult kids on the autism spectrum.  Some even called it magic.

Lauren had come to appreciate just how little magic and how much hard work was involved.

She held still, waiting.  And smiled as Jacob’s hands began to move, inching up her arms like little drunken spiders.  He paused for a moment, admiring the shiny beads she’d worn just for him—and then dropped his forehead on her shoulder.

One hug, Jacob-style.

He took her hand, tugging her over to a giant mountain of pillows.

Lauren waved at Tabitha, half-hidden by the mountain.  “Doing pillow rides, are we?”

The effervescent woman who was the heart-blood of the Center smiled.  “Maybe today Jacob will give
us
a ride.”

Lauren laughed—and then froze as Jacob’s giggle drifted up beside her.

Tabitha’s brain had gone on red alert, but her smile stayed easy.  She crouched down to face the small boy, taking care that he could see her face, but keeping her eyes lightly focused elsewhere.  “Will you give
me
a ride, Jacob?” 

Lauren held her breath.  Tabitha’s tone was joking, her face full of mischief—and most kids with autism couldn’t read those signals at all. 

Jacob gazed for a while at some point off in the distance.  And then he laughed again—and this time, it came all the way from his toes.  “No!  Jacob ride!”  He tumbled over onto one of the giant-sized pillows, still giggling.  “Me ride!”

Tabitha picked up two corners and Lauren grabbed the other two, trying not to sniffle.  Eighteen months of work—and Jacob finally understood a joke.

He’s getting so much better at reading nonverbal cues,
sent Tabitha, beaming at the deliriously happy boy as he flew through the air onto Pillow Mountain.

Lauren made sure Jacob landed safely before she replied—not everyone could goof off and mindspeak at the same time. 
Can you feel the difference in his brain?

Tabitha’s eyebrows flew up. 
No—what do you see?

It was hard to explain, but Lauren tried anyhow. 
Well, you talk about these kids needing to integrate the words we say with what our tone and our faces say, right?
  It was at the core of Tabitha’s working theory of autism.  Too many layers of information, not digested together.

You could see it? 

Lauren ignored the hushed awe—it was still weird having Superman powers others couldn’t share. 
His mind lights up differently.  When he got the joke, it… the pattern was different. 
And even saying it, she knew she needed to watch more carefully the next time.  Tabitha would hound her until she could replay every second.

Jacob tumbled down Pillow Mountain, landing in a heap at their knees.  Replay could wait.

You try now,
sent Tabitha softly. 
Let’s see if we can solidify this for him.

Lauren leaned down and tickled Jacob’s ribs.  “That looked like fun, cutie.  Can
I
have a ride now?”  She kept her facial expressions simple and light.

Jacob’s eyes got big, and he looked back and forth from her to Tabitha.

Lauren winced—it was beautiful eye contact, gorgeous social referencing—and maybe a kid pushed just a little too far.

And then Jacob’s mind lit up, he giggled, and two adult women with no children of their own melted into puddles of maternal pride.

-o0o-

Beth looked around her circle, evaluating.  Measuring.

They’d made a lot of progress since the day, twenty months ago, that a brown-eyed stranger had crashed their coven practice, rearranged their circle, and given them a taste of magic at an entirely different level.  A meeting they’d barely survived, emotionally torn asunder by his magic and his words. 

They’d been doing it wrong. 

Jamie Sullivan, messenger of coven near-destruction and a man who haunted her dreams, had made that very clear.  And shown them what was possible.

Beth yanked her thoughts back to the task at hand—daydreaming witches were dangerous in circle work.

Mellie, their solid and grumpy earth witch, stood at cardinal north, facing Beth.  Power ran smoothly out of her right hand, lines from earth to water connecting competently.  It was good to see it so—it had taken Margaret a while to embrace her sudden new identity as a water witch.  Before Jamie’s arrival, she’d spent thirty years as a sister to earth magics.  Being de-earthed and tossed into the world of blue, liquid power had shaken her sense of self to its core.

Beth didn’t judge.  It had taken
all
of them months to recover from Jamie Sullivan’s visit.