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Chapter Seven
Claire
The Randalls were a relatively young couple who lived in a nice, two-story home on the north side of Mystic Springs. Darla was their only child. Witch couples typically spaced out their kids over the decades and centuries and Darla had been the Randalls’ first.
Jack sat next to me on the Randalls’ sofa. He perched himself on the edge as if at any moment he might be called into action like some small-town warlock superhero. I felt no more comfortable than he did, but I tried to mask it by fidgeting as little as possible.
“Darla wasn’t a bad witch,” Maribeth Randall, Darla’s mother, told us. She was crumpling a tissue in her hands, twisting and refolding the useless bit of fiber. Her mate, Bernard, sat beside her, looking as if he hadn’t slept in days despite finding out about his missing daughter only hours before. His eyes were rimmed red and dark circles sat starkly against the skin beneath his eyes.
“She was curious, of course,” Maribeth continued. “Like most young witches are. We always tried to be open with her about going through her first heat and finding a mate. We hoped she would be as lucky as we had been.”
Bernard reached over and took Maribeth’s hand, looking at her with a mixture of love and sadness. To me, they looked no older than I did, despite having a daughter Maggie’s age. To the humans of Mystic Springs, however, they looked like a sweet, middle-aged couple, thanks to the glamour they employed when they stepped out.
“I’d wanted to wait and have our second after Darla was grown,” Maribeth continued. Jack shifted uncomfortably. “I wanted to focus all my attention on Darla since she was our first. Learn the ropes before I had my next. You know how witch families are. Most of us like to spread them out. Now I wonder if that was a mistake. Maybe if she’d had a sibling around—“
“None of this is your fault,” I interrupted, realizing that the interview was going off the rails, but not much caring at that point. “I have a sister, Maggie. She’s about Darla’s age and she’s so curious about everything that I always worry about her. There’s no guarantee that we can keep young witches safe once that curiosity takes over.”
“But I don’t know who she’s with,” Maribeth said, her voice growing more agitated with each word. She pounded her fist against her thigh. “No idea where they’ve taken her. I can’t sense her as a mother can usually sense her child.”
I knew many witchkind parents had a sort of sixth sense about their children. My mother had gotten horribly sick the minute they had taken me after leaving the bookstore that night. Later, my father had told me it was only taking care of my mother that night that had diverted his attention away from the horrible gnawing sensation in his stomach.
But those feelings were never as strong as the feelings a witch or warlock had with their bond mate. Then, they could sometimes pull on the bond and follow their partner right to their location. It would have been a powerful tool to help find Darla, but no doubt a nightmare for children of overbearing parents.
“Do you think they will try to force bond her?” Maribeth asked.
My fingers dug into the denim of my pants. If I pinched myself hard enough, perhaps I could distract myself from this question that I most definitely didn’t want to answer.
“We’re going to do our best to keep that from happening, Ms. Randall,” Jack said, no doubt seeing the strain the question had caused me.
“Hopefully she’ll find a way to use that power of hers,” Bernard said.
My eyes shot up to capture the gaze of the man. Jack sat up a little straighter.
“Power?” I asked, proud that my voice didn’t shake. If Darla had a power like mine, what we might find when we found her would be messy, but it could be a way for her out of this. She’d have to live with the horror of it for years, just as I did, but I knew I could be there for her.
There was a sort of excitement that flooded my body at knowing that there might be another witch out there like me.
Down, Claire. This was not the time to be hoping for commiseration partners.
The best we could do was ensure that Darla never had to use that power.
“We never really knew what to do with it,” Maribeth said, punctuating the sentence with a sigh. She leaned back against her mate’s shoulder. He maneuvered himself so he could keep a better grasp on her. A true mate bond. My stomach dipped at the wonder of what that might feel like. My body ached with how much I wanted to feel that same connection with the man beside me.
But he would never have me.
“It started when she was small,” Bernard finished for her, sensing his mate’s exhaustion. “Just little things like how she could make a sprinkle shower happen just over the backyard to water the gardens. Or make sure her birthday parties were sunny and not rainy.”
“You’re saying she can control the weather with her magic,” Jack confirmed. His voice sounded robust to anyone else’s ears, but I could hear the hint of disappointment there. He hoped Darla had a power more like mine.
Because if she had a power more like mine, there was a good chance she could escape the force bond.
As it was, it didn’t sound like Darla could do anything more other than drenching her captors. It didn’t look good for Darla, but I wasn’t about to tell her parents that.
“Hopefully that will come in handy,” I said, trying to sound like I wasn’t overselling it.
“Please, for the love of the Gods, find my baby,” Maribeth said, directing her words to Jack. “She deserves better than this.”
