Page 5

“It’s nice to meet you,” the woman I was there to meet greeted me.

“No, it’s not,” her familiar snorted. The rabbit was off in the corner looking at me with contempt while chewing on her snacks. “You better at least give me that fancy treat everyone’s talking about after causing us problems.”

Lovely.

“I’m Dr. Leigh Moon,” the woman said as she waved me inside. “I appreciate you coming outside of normal office hours so others aren’t disturbed.”

I snorted when her familiar said something snarky again. “You mean you’re sneaking me in through the back door so no one knows you’re treating me.” I raised an eyebrow when she tried to pretend she wasn’t busted. “You’re not going to establish trust with me by starting off lying. It’s better to just be honest, and I’m not a brat who won’t understand.”

I had a moment of hope when she accepted that and apologized, saying that her parents pressured her into this and she didn’t want to offend me by admitting that. I apologized back that they did that and I was unaware, but I was also grateful since I had very limited options and needed help.

I decided to give an inch and told her that I really hoped she could point me in the right direction to get the tools I needed to handle what I was going through. That maybe that would be enough and we didn’t need a long-term association.

I was trying to be kind with that—meet her halfway and even be contrite that my situation was messing with her life.

Her response disgusted me.

Abso-fucking-lutely disgusted me. And I didn’t use “disgusted” lightly.

It was also valid.

Also, her familiar.

After almost twenty minutes , I finally interrupted her. “I’m sorry, I don’t think you should be giving anyone advice or guidance until you get some help and work through the fact you hate what you are.”

Her eyes went bug wide. “I beg your pardon?”

“You just ranted for twenty minutes about how much you hate being a witch,” I said, pointing to the clock on her wall as if I needed the visual aid. “That our society is so fucked up and horrible that anyone with a brain would leave it… While I’m here to get help navigating it and my traumas from it. So not only are you being incredibly judgmental but—”

“Wait, that’s not—”

“Shortsighted and an idiot ,” I continued, nodding when she frowned. “Some of us can’t leave. I’d be dead if I tried to hide among humans. I’d be so easy to pick off by my psycho family that it’s a death sentence. Most of us born of high-tier families who escape have to stay visible to survive or we’re dead or picked right back up.

“Also, the average warlock and witch do not have the means to hide as you have. How lovely for you that you came from a rich family who could afford your education and provide you with the tools and opportunities to get here. Most don’t have those options, you entitled priss.” I pointed to her familiar. “You have a rabbit. An easily blending rabbit.

“I have a friend who has a fucking polar bear as a familiar. How would they just blend into the human world? Become a zookeeper? What happens to a familiar who is assimilated to being around natural animals like that? You went to our schools, so you have to know that warning.” I nodded when she flinched. “They wither. They lose their ability to harvest and be magical.

“It’s cruel and a strike against the warlock or witch to the gods. But apparently being without a familiar and human is so much better to you. Which is a crock of shit. Let’s be honest about that. There are societies and countries just as bad as our society. Just as corrupt. Just as sexist.

“Whole areas of the fucking world where women can’t show their hair or they’re stoned. They have no rights and are property. So yeah, our society is bad, but I’m sorry you were too weak to stay and fight to make it better and took the easy path out to save your own ass that your parents protect, but some of us are fighting to make it better.

“So thank you for making it clear that you think I’m pathetic and weak for not having broken free of my chains that keep me prisoner to that society, but I think it’s pathetic you hate what you are so much that you hide here instead of fight for a better life while saying you’re an expert in mental health. You shouldn’t be telling anyone anything about health.”

I walked out of there without giving her a chance to respond, steam about coming out of my ears and feeling good that I let her have it.

And I didn’t even puke from the confrontation.

“Want to talk about it?” Link asked as he sat down next to me an hour later where I was hiding out at his aunt and uncle’s house.

I gave a half shrug and kept looping the yarn, focused on comfort since I wanted it myself. “Nothing really to say. I threw a fit after my feelings were hurt. I was proud I didn’t puke at the confrontation, but then I realized I acted like a toddler and doubled down to come here and hide where your aunt would baby me and protect me from the fallout.”

He chuckled. “You are way too hard on yourself. Seriously. You are…” He chuckled again. “Me. Sometimes you are me.” He tapped something next to him when I didn’t budge. “I picked up your massive order of Chinese food. Take a break and talk to me, Bev. I bet it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“It was.”

“Oh, I doubt that because the Moons have been trying to reach you to apologize for their daughter’s behavior, even showed up here, but Aunt Marilyn said you were laser-focused on creating new magic so you couldn’t be disturbed.”

I sighed. “I didn’t mean to blow this up. I wasn’t going to snitch on her, and I certainly didn’t want it to get out that I threw a fit.”

“Well, I’m the right person to talk to because I’m not a fan of Leigh Moon,” he told me. He snorted when I glanced at him.

Okay then. Maybe it was petty, but I was glad he told me that first.

I finished up that skein since there wasn’t much left and then went to the dining room and got situated. I gave Mrs. Oliveria an apologetic look as she snuck an egg roll and joined us.

While stuffing my face with ridiculously delicious Chinese food, I told them everything that happened. As much as I could remember about her whole rant and even how much extra her familiar chirped in.

“And that’s why I don’t like Leigh Moon,” Link drawled when I finished, he shrugged when his aunt shot him a look. “She’s an entitled priss. I would have told Bevin to talk to just about anyone else. I hoped maybe she’d grown up and gotten her act together but apparently not. I mean, she is a psychiatrist, so she’s not an idiot, but apparently she’s still stupid.”

Mrs. Oliveria snickered but then sighed. “I’ve heard some of her comments about accepting too much that’s unacceptable and she’s not wrong. A lot of us should have pushed back sooner or done more. It’s just hard to know what to do and not make things worse. Or we have our own lives and children to focus on.”

“You and Uncle were always being attacked,” Link said gently. “Always on the defense, and protecting what you have doesn’t leave you much time to go on the attack. Leigh always had a lot of ideas for others and judgments from her parents’ protection and then just bailed on our world.”

“Exactly,” I grumbled, taking too big of a bite of my sweet and sour pork than was polite. It was just so fucking good. I hurried to chew and swallow it. “So the Moons aren’t pissed at me? I just—I was a baby.”

“No, you didn’t go storming to them and snitch on her or even to Aunt and Uncle,” Link defended. “You gave it right back to her and went about your day. That’s how adults do handle things.”

“I agree,” Mrs. Oliveria said firmly as she added more food to my now-empty plate. “You simply feel that was childish because of how your abusive parents treated you and your siblings. Women were toddlers and throwing tantrums for speaking up.”

I froze in stabbing a bite of beef and mushrooms. I blinked at her and felt tears burn in my eyes. “You’re right. Fath—Charles always told Jean or Clare not to be childish and to be quiet. Children had outbursts, but Alex was always allowed to give his opinions freely. He chastised Bryan for not speaking up more. I didn’t realize that I…”

Link reached over and rubbed my arm before serving himself some more food. “You told her to shove her shit. She escalated this by telling her parents—probably to get in front of it or—I don’t know, but you were not childish. And you handled that confrontation well. Take the win, Bev. Good for you.”

“But maybe consider why you went from listening to her drivel for so long to exploding back on her,” Mrs. Oliveria suggested, giving me a knowing look.

I nodded, accepting that but still focused on my food. Actually, I knew the answer. “I really wanted the help. I needed it. I needed… It was like watching a car wreck or one of the familiar bridges disintegrate right in front of me. This was the bridge of hope I’d needed right now. She destroyed it with her rant and I exploded. I was so angry at her taking that hope away from me.”

“That doesn’t sound like a toddler throwing a fit to me,” Mrs. Oliveria said firmly. “That sounds like an adult woman assessing a situation accurately and handling a disappointing outcome in a proportional way. Plus using that frustration productively to help others which most don’t. Honestly, you handled it better than many much older adults I know.”

I felt better as I let that settle with me.

“It definitely deserves the fall brownies the chef was playing with,” she added. “Let me go get some.” She gave me a wink as she stood.

Link just chuckled when she was gone. “Yeah, that’s why I spent a lot of time here growing up. Still do. My parents are great, but there are few in this world like Aunt Marilyn.”

Yeah, Mrs. Oliveria definitely was one of a kind and really helped me a lot. I was glad I gave the first brush to her and the first blanket to Councilman Oliveria. I would be in such trouble without both of them.

And the brownies were amazing. Pumpkin pie cheesecake something-something and totally worth the calories.

I also got some to take back to my dorm. Yum.

I worked until I was exhausted, glad when Sergey was there waiting for me. He obviously heard what happened and simply gave me a hug. I appreciated that more than he knew.

The next morning, Emma Wagner was waiting for me when I was going to go for my run at my house. She was one of Taylor’s people, but she was also now working at Morrigan as Coach Dunham’s aide to really teach the women how to fight… But mostly protect themselves.

She chuckled at whatever was on my face. “Let’s run and chat, yeah?”

“Depends if I’m in trouble. Kinda overloaded and can’t handle being in trouble,” I admitted.

She glanced me over and smiled. “Nope, but good for you for setting that boundary and saying what’s off limits on your run time. You really need to give yourself more credit, Bevin.”

Wow, more people to pump me up? Yay.

We didn’t say anything for the first mile, but then we stopped to stretch a bit and she seemed to accept it was time. She let out a slow breath and met my gaze.

“I know you’re a Hughes,” I told her, not making her say it. I nodded when fear filled her eyes. “I won’t ever tell. I swear. Taylor clearly knows and that’s enough for us.”

“Way to take the big reveal away from a girl,” she chuckled nervously. She bobbed her head and seemed a bit shell-shocked. “How?”

Now it was my turn to squirm. I hadn’t thought that far ahead this early on a Sunday morning. “Shit.”

“Yeah, because I’m not going to let that one go when most have forgotten about me and I need it to stay that way,” she said gently. “If you know because your family was keeping tabs on me or—”

“Your familiar told me,” I confessed.

She did a double take. “I was right. You’re a goddess witch. Bé?inn right?” She moved closer when I didn’t answer. “Taylor wouldn’t answer when I asked, so I did my homework. It’s—Bevin is a derivative of that name.”

“So it seems,” I whispered. “I haven’t known that long, so—it’s a lot. I already had a lot and it’s a lot.”

“Yeah, fuck, that’s a lot and to just find out.” She whistled. “Okay, so let’s put a pin in all of that for now and hit what I wanted to today.”

I nodded and took off, impressed that she was right there with me after the next mile. Not just still running but as at ease with the pace and terrain as I was. Nice.

“I won’t be able to go as long as you just yet, but I’m looking forward to it a few times a week,” she said as if knowing where my head was. “And I would ask you keep me being a Hughes quiet. They’ve buried that I was ever one of them and are fine to ignore it after they couldn’t scoop me back up. Taylor saved me from all of that. Got me disowned and in the military.”

“You’re in love with him,” I muttered, thinking I should admit that I knew that as well.

She let out a long, heavy breath. “Taylor is the ultimate man to me but one I don’t think I ever want to really have. He wouldn’t live up to the expectations I have in my head now, and it would ruin too many good memories we share. I want to let it go, but he’s just so fucking hot and awesome.”

“You’re also two sides of the same coin,” I added. “I see—you both need someone different. You would be too comfortable like that and—he would never have you grow.”

“Look at you doling out the relationship advice,” she chuckled. “Yeah, well, makes sense when you’ve got five all over you.”

I snorted. “Yeah, not really or—it was your familiar who said all of that.” I shot her a look. “And that you need a better place to live. For real. That’s why she won’t leave the Reids, and I didn’t realize they were basically a familiar sanctuary for all you guys who followed Taylor’s path.”

“Yeah, it’s complicated, but now I maybe can have a better place. I was always bouncing around and—hey, I’m here for you,” she said with a growl.

“Right, sorry.” I sighed when she chuckled. “Do you know how hard it is to carry all of this information? Your familiars all tell me tons of everything. Constantly. Especially once they learn that I can hear them. Wyatt walked up on Bubba keeping a bunch of them in line as they used me as a therapist to listen to their problems. Bubba’s actually really good at it.”

“That had to be a fucking trip for him to witness.”

“He called me a blond fucking Snow White I think,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes when she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that she had to stop running. It was nice to hear her laugh though because she’d been through a lot too.

“I’m not from the ‘main family,’” she told me once we got back to running. “I’m a branch family.” She seemed to realize that wasn’t the right place to start and made a “back up” motion with her hands. “Not everyone’s built for therapy and that’s okay, Bevin. Healing and getting help isn’t a singular road or answer. One bridge doesn’t take you there.”

“I know,” I whispered, relieved to hear someone say it though.

“And some of us have had traumas with therapy and valid reasons that therapy can’t work for us,” she said gently. She nodded when I did a double take.

Yeah, busted. I swallowed loudly and was ready to defend myself, but she went on, so I didn’t have to scramble thinking of what to say.

“When I was in sixth grade, I was bullied and came home saying that I hated everything and everyone,” she told me. “I blew up at my parents that I was never going back to school. I don’t remember it all. I was a kid. I guess they realized something was going on from other signs, and being the stellar parents they were, they passed it off to someone else.

“They were informed about an ‘altercation’ and assumed it was my fault because everything was my fault. Something was my fault once that I don’t even remember, and from that moment it was always my fault. I was always a liar. I was the problem. The answer was Emma did it. It was Emma’s fault. So they never even asked me what happened.

“They were that lazy and worried about themselves—how it would make them look and playing the victims over it. They thanked the school for sending me to their counselor. She had no real training. She was just the vice principal at a private school so no real oversight. They needed someone for that role and they gave it to her.

“But I remember asking her what training she had to be a counselor and how we were going to handle the situation. She looked at me like I was an annoying brat and told me she’d been a teacher for twenty years and had children. That was all the training she needed to handle my issues. Handle what I’d done wrong.”

“She never even asked you what happened from your side, did she?” I asked, guessing exactly what happened even if I’d never been through that or real schooling.

“No. She told me what happened like I wasn’t there and she had been,” Emma said with a dark chuckle. “She corrected me when I tried to tell her the truth. She told me that I wouldn’t help myself by lying and my acting out needed to be handled. That it was a problem for everyone. That was the result. I was the problem. Like always.”

“What really happened?”

She slowed down and blinked at me. “I haven’t told this story a lot, but you’re the first to ask that so early. You’re not dense, Bevin. You’re really not. You just have—you see everything through a different lens because you’ve talked to animals more than us. I feel the same a lot having spent so much time with humans compared to more witches and warlocks.”

“Thanks. I’ll try to really accept that,” I mumbled, glad when she went back to running. It really did help me process it all and keep me from feeling overwhelmed.

“My cousin from the main branch told her friends that we weren’t related,” she answered me. “And kids being the shits they are—especially top-tier family spoiled fuckers—it was all over the school and a lot of the parents by drop-off the next morning that I was a bastard. That my mother had slept with the mailman or something ridiculous.”

“Yes, of course, the logical response,” I drawled.

“Yeah, of course,” she snarked. “Not that my cousin was annoyed with me about something—I can’t even remember what—and was being a brat. I went and told her what happened and told her to tell people the truth, but she told me it wasn’t her problem. She’s selfish. She always has been. If it’s not about her, she doesn’t care.

“So that was what started it all. I started getting bullied for being a bastard and trying to pretend I was a real top-tier family when not my father’s child. It all came to a head when our teacher stood there as a student pulled out my chair and I got hurt. I slammed my head hard on the chair as I landed. She just watched and smirked at me.

“She’d made it clear that she’d hated me, but it was always little comments before. She thought my mom was trash or—I never really knew what her issue was. It was from day one, so it really wasn’t about me. I knew that much and my parents didn’t care, simply telling me not to be a problem. I exploded, screaming that they were all insane.

“That she was going to be in trouble for letting other students hurt me and she said I did it to myself for attention. The boy who did it said the same and that he almost got hurt by what I did. I had a cut on the back of my head and blood in my hair and that was the story. The teacher saw nothing and I did it to myself to cause a scene.

“That was why I was sent to the principal’s office and no one even asked if my head was okay. I still remember how much it hurt—how much my neck hurt for the next week. I saw stars when I banged my head on that old metal and hard plastic chair. No one cared. So yeah, I went home saying I hated everyone and everything.”

I swallowed loudly when I realized this was going to be tit-for-tat. I told her about hearing animals and finding out my family was going to sacrifice me. How Clarence saved me and I had to hide my magic.

She listened the whole time and didn’t react. Then she took back over. “The first ‘session,’ we played a game. The Game of Life. Ever played it?”

“No, but I’ve seen it in movies or on TV. I get the concept,” I told her.

“Yeah, it’s basic. You go through the board and things happen and you progress, move forward and not stop and throw a fit. Everyone has their place and seat in the car,” she told me, her voice tight. “That was the message loud and clear. To shut the fuck up and sit where I was told and move forward instead of focusing on what happened.”

“They might as well have told you to ignore that a teacher didn’t do her job and should have been arrested for neglect of a child—endangerment,” I bitched.

“I never thought of that.” She bobbed her head as we ran. “I did realize later that the kid was the son of someone more important than my parents. I heard that warning, but you’re right. She was telling me to keep my mouth shut about the teacher too. Thanks.”

“You’re teaching me something with this,” I hedged after a few minutes. “I feel like I understand that, but I’m too overwhelmed to see it.”

“You are, and I was going to give you the answer,” she chuckled. “I was just giving you a bit to appreciate the insight you gave. You saw something others hadn’t and—you’re impressive, Bevin. Not just your magic or that a goddess blessed you. I’ve met others who have been blessed too and—one was such a fucking asshat fool. It’s what you’ve done with it that’s impressive.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re doing more than trying. You’re doing it and would make Yoda proud, girl,” she praised, clapping me on the back. “And what I’m leading you to is this is the type of therapy you need. Not one-sided. Not where you feel on display. Not with the traumas you’ve had with that.”

There it was. She recognized the same in me. She glanced at me saying she wanted the confirmation.

I gave it. “When I came up with barely any magic, my family was furious but let it go at first. I was registered with the council but didn’t go to real school still. It was an ongoing joke with my teachers that I was a dud. They would come in and study me like I was a zoo exhibit instead of remembering their fucking jobs.

“One kept asking me all kinds of questions from my diet to disgusting things he should never have asked a child.” I blinked back tears. “Never have asked me. I didn’t understand until I was older. But it was so grotesque that…” I slowed down and started crying.

Not for me or what I was going through.

I finally cried for eight-year-old Bevin who went through so much and had no one to protect her the way she should have been. Grandfather could only do so much, and he couldn’t protect me the way I should have been.