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Simms sat down at the kitchen table. She looked at her hands. They were thick, square things, not delicate like the soft, pale pair folded neatly in Lily’s lap. They were hands that had gotten things done. Hard things. They were shaking now.
“I was always different,” she said quietly. “Did I ever tell you that I used to get allergies?” She looked up at Lily, who shook her head once. “I did,” Simms continued. “I got teased a lot for it, too. Or maybe it was just the other kids sensing something off about me.”
Rowan waited to make sure Simms had finished before continuing. “This place we want to take you is far. You won’t be able to come back here.”
“Carrick explained some of it to me,” Simms said. Her mouth twisted around Carrick’s name like it was a curse word. “He said I was better suited to your world.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Lily said. “You’ve seen what I can do, and you’re still searching for a way to repeat it. That was my mistake.” Lily glanced down at her lap. “I had a teacher once—a shaman—who thought that the only way to fix a mistake he’d made was to send me back to my world, even after I’d seen his. But you can’t unfire a bullet. You’re a danger to this world now. You belong in ours.” Lily frowned and looked at Rowan. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever agreed with Carrick,” she said. The look they shared was more intimate than a kiss.
Simms couldn’t help but stare. She’d never had that. Oh, she’d had men chase her for reasons neither of them could understand, but it had never worked out. There had always been something they’d wanted from her that she couldn’t seem to give them. As the years passed it had been easier to not get involved. Better to live alone than go through the disappointment of not being enough and not getting enough back to ever feel satisfied.
“You won’t be able to come back here, not unless Lily sends you,” Rowan said clearly.
Simms snorted. “I have no husband, no kids, no family. I don’t even have a job anymore after what happened with you. All I have is three appointments a week with a psychiatrist. And I actually look forward to them.”
“You’re not crazy,” Lily said, her passion hushing her voice until it was barely above a whisper. “You’re not sick. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.” Lily smiled at her. “You are strong, Reba. Difficult to get along with,” she added with a smile, “but all the best witches are.”
Simms looked down at her hands again, and this time they were completely steady. “What would I have to do to go?” she asked.
Rowan stood and took a velvet jeweler’s envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “It will be difficult,” he told her. “But only for a few moments.”
“I can handle difficult,” Simms replied confidently.
Rowan nodded, as if he expected as much, and opened the envelope to reveal a collection of lead-colored rocks.
“Just one more thing before we get started,” Lily said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we could find that surfer, Miller, would you?”
