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I tucked my head under his chin. “I’ll only tell you my story if you promise not to pity me. You also have to promise not to ask a bunch of follow-up questions. I just want to put it out there and be done with it.”

He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “I promise.”

I took a deep breath and tried to leave the emotion out of it as I began to speak. If I just told him the facts, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much. “I was raised by a cold, domineering man who had nothing but contempt for me. My mom died during childbirth, and he adored her. There was a huge portrait of her in our home, and he always kept candles burning and fresh flowers beneath it. If he’s still alive, I’d bet anything he’s still maintaining that altar.”

I shifted my position, holding onto Elias tightly as I continued, “His love for his wife was obsessive, and he blamed me for taking her away from him. Most people would realize that was irrational, but he was the type of person who had to blame someone for everything, so I became his scapegoat.

“He feared me, too, which was probably why he was so determined to control me. I’d inherited my powers from my mom, and he was a half-werewolf, half-human with no magical abilities. I think he was worried I’d eventually realize my strength and become a threat to him, so I was forbidden to use magic. But I was a kid, and I was curious.

“When I was eleven, I found my mom’s spell book and snuck out to the barn to see if I could actually do any of the things it described. Not really, it turned out, since witches and warlocks don’t fully come into their power until they turn twenty-five. I also couldn’t control what little power I had, because no one ever taught me how. So, in the process of trying to work a simple illumination spell, I ended up catching the barn on fire.

“My father made his living as a horse breeder. I barely made it out alive, because I made sure I got every single horse out safely. By the time I stumbled out of the barn, my father and a few of his ranch hands had arrived. The men took one look at the fire, which was burning with blue flames, and they made the sign of the cross and yelled, “El diablo!” This was over a century ago in rural Mexico, and a lot of people were pretty superstitious. I think they really believed I was the devil, or maybe some sort of demon, and they grabbed anything they could use as a weapon and started to come after me.

“I begged my father to tell them I wasn’t evil. He knew his wife had been half witch, so he knew what I was. But I guess he was afraid the men would turn on him too, so he sided with them and called me a demon. I had to run for my life.” My voice shook at that last part.

I paused for a few moments to try to get my emotions under control again. Then I continued, “I knew I could never go home again, so from that point forward, I was on my own. All I had at first were the clothes on my back. I’d even lost my mom’s spell book in the fire. But I managed to escape to northern Mexico by hiding in the back of a wagon, and then I learned to survive. I grew up and got stronger, and I dreamed of building a new life in the U.S., the land of opportunity. Right before I turned twenty, I finally made my dream come true and moved to California.”

“And then you met me, and the first thing I did was try to control you,” Elias said softly.

“You didn’t know what I’d been through.”

After a pause, he asked, “How did you survive all those years on your own? You were so young, and—sorry. I promised not to ask a bunch of questions.”

“It’s okay, I’ll answer that one. I begged in the streets, but only at first. Pretty soon, I realized it was up to me to make something of myself, and I wanted to be more than just a street rat. I took any odd job I could get, saved some of the money I made, and worked toward my dream of a fresh start in America.”

“Did your powers help you survive?”

“Not really. I was afraid to use them after the fire, and in the years that followed. Also, when I realized I could read minds and plant suggestions, I was worried about taking advantage of people, so I didn’t use those abilities, either. It’s always been important to me to be respectful of my mother’s memory. She’s the reason I have these powers, and I’m sure she would have wanted me to do the right thing.”

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