Page 20 of Untraced Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #1)

Morgan

The world spun wildly, my eyes pained to the point where I pinned them shut again. Whatever that was, I would never let him repeat it. I’d felt him. His presence, his power, deep within me, entering my subconscious and clawing at every nerve ending beyond my skull.

A shudder coursed through my body at the memory. I couldn't be sure, but judging by Tyler’s reaction, I’d say Wesley had been seriously downplaying his sensor gift.

The tips of my fingers settled on my eyelids. “Betty? As in Betty who owned this house?” I mumbled.

“Yeah, her,” Wesley said from where he still lay peeled out on the floor.

Tyler straightened behind me. “Surely not,” he scoffed. “We’ve lived next to her for years. She couldn’t possibly be linked to Morgan.”

Skye helped Wesley sit upright, his weighted stare swiftly finding Tyler’s. He nodded in my direction. “Ask her, not me.”

Wesley wouldn’t look at me, and I wondered if he felt he’d overstepped the boundaries between us .

Tyler’s breath warmed my neck as he pressed his hand into my shoulder. “Do you know how to contact Betty?” he asked, turning to face me.

I sucked in a breath. Only inches from mine, his steel irises were exquisite. A dark charcoal around the edges, blending into a faint blue-gray as they neared his pupils. His proximity took my breath away.

I fumbled with my words. “It’s… on the fridge.” I gestured in that direction.

My skin tingled in response to his closeness, each hair coming alive as if it were pleading for mercy. Why did he make me so nervous? No man had ever gotten under my skin like this.

Skye broke my thoughts, handing me the note from the fridge with Betty’s familiar scrawls on it. The paper stared back at me, and I exhaled a long breath as I skimmed over her phone number.

I looked around the group. “I don’t know, guys, is this a good idea?”

Skye moved closer. “Morgan, we need to speak to her. If she cast the spell, maybe she can break it, too.”

Tyler clutched his hands behind his head. “I very much doubt Betty cast the spell; we would know if she was a witch.” He turned pointedly to Wes. “You would have sensed her.”

Wes sat with a bent knee, an arm resting on it. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” he said with a slight raise of his hand.

My stomach flipped with uncertainty; I knew Skye was right. “She may know who my birth parents are,” I whispered .

I found it hard to believe this was all some huge coincidence. Had she known who my birth parents were all along? I didn’t know how to feel about that if it were to be true. A flare of anger streaked through me as I studied the numbers on the note again, unsure how to proceed from here.

Adjusting my top, I moved a stray hair from my face. This could go one of two ways. The small set of numbers could hold the answers to my entire life or become my worst nightmare.

Pulling my phone from my back pocket, the paper trembled in my hand. When the call connected, nerves scattered my breath.

Betty’s voice hit my ears soon after, and it took all my effort to keep my voice steady.

“Hi, Betty, it’s Morgan. I have some more mail here if you would like to come and collect it sometime.”

“Hi, Morgan darling. More bills, I imagine. I’m going to head downtown shortly. I can stop by on my way past if that works?” she chimed from the other end of the line.

“Okay, that sounds great. I’ll see you soon.” With that, I disconnected the call.

A silence lingered in the room, weighing heavily between the group.

“So, how are we going to let this play out?” said Skye, glancing around the room.

I fumbled with the chain around my neck, unsure how to proceed from here. Unsure how to feel, about everything. Was it a complete coincidence I had ended up living in her old house? Or as Wesley suspected, had she something to do with this whole scenario in some weird witchy way.

Tyler ran an uneasy hand through his hair. “I think we just need to be straight up with her.”

Skye’s fingers turned over the ring she wore on her thumb. “Worst-case scenario, you’re in a room with three witches.” She shrugged.

Her words didn’t convince me. But it was my only lead. My only option.

Tension filled the room, simmering below the surface like an undercurrent.

Ten minutes later, the doorbell thrummed in our ears, and I rose to my feet.

Tyler moved beside me. “I’ll get it.” He walked to the door, opening it. “Hey, Betty, long time no see,” he greeted, letting her inside and giving her a polite hug.

She beamed. “Tyler, so nice to see you again, young man.” Betty made her way into the living area, dressed smartly in a matching plum pantsuit.

Skye suppressed a cough, and I met her gaze with a mixture of amusement and nerves. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could sink into the many seams sewn into the fake leather on my shoes. Could this be any more awkward?

Lines formed on Betty’s forehead. “I hope this isn’t a bad time…”

“Betty, are you a witch?”

My brows practically hit the roof. Hell, Wesley came straight out with it .

Bettys perfectly set hair sat tight on her head, a crease appearing between her eyes. “A witch? What on earth would make you ask a question like that?”

At first glance, I could be mistaken to think the question hadn’t rattled her, until her eyes met mine. In that moment, a flicker deep within her aged orbs told me everything I needed to know.

“Does this locket look familiar to you?” said Skye, holding it in her hand.

Betty didn’t answer, instead looking directly at me, asking a question of her own.

“You mentioned this locket was a family heirloom?”

I paused, holding Betty’s gaze, her blue-gray eyes full of questions.

I considered my words carefully, unsure how much information to share. “My adoptive mother gave it to me on my twenty-first birthday.” It was the truth… just not the entire story. “Why is that?”

“Your adoptive parents,” she repeated, more to herself than the room. “Morgan, how old are you?”

An exasperated breath left me. “What difference does that make?”

“Morgan,” Tyler warned, his voice low, fingers wrapping around my arm.

I didn’t mean for it to sound rude, but patience was never a strength of mine.

I shrugged off Tyler's arm, words spilling from me so fast I could barely gather a breath. “I’m twenty-four. The symbol on this locket matches the symbol in this book. Do you know my parents somehow? Please, just tell us what you know. ”

The room turned silent, everyone turning to Betty.

“What makes you think I would know your parents, dear?” she said carefully, her words smooth. Level, as if she kept them carefully measured.

Wesley lifted to his feet, his arms folded across his chest. “Betty, I know it was you who cast the spell on Morgan. I heard your voice chanting it,” he accused.

Her head dipped to the side. “You heard my voice?”

Tyler stepped in, holding his arm in the air. “Betty, can you help us or not?”

Her gaze swept the room before landing on mine.

“Morgan, dear,” she said with caution, her voice lowering further. Her gaze swept the room once more before she sighed. “I think you may be my granddaughter.”

Air sucked from my lungs, my legs wilting beneath me. Warmth circled my waist as Tyler broke my fall, steering me to the couch where I sank into it. The words choked the breath from me, my mind frozen.

Words. They flooded my mind. My mouth moved, but I couldn’t produce a single sound. I looked at Tyler in desperation, and he seemed to read my mind, his hand grasping my knee.

His voice came strong and confident. “Betty, what makes you think you could be Morgan’s grandmother?”

Her eyes nestled on mine, and I found a comfort in them I hadn’t noticed before. “Morgan, were you left at an orphanage as a baby?” she asked softly.

My breath stilled at the realization there could be some truth to this. That she could in fact be my grandmother.

“Yes,” I breathed, barely loud enough to hear myself. “Yes, I was. How…? How do you know this?” I stammered, a lone tear escaping my lashes.

Betty sighed. “Because, dear, I left you there.”

Shock pinned me in place, before words purged from me with force. “I don’t understand. Why would you leave me there? How could you leave a helpless baby with no one to look after it?”

Streams of heat coated my cheeks as I rose to my feet with Tyler’s help.

Skye’s voice came from beside me. “Morgan, I think we need to let Betty speak.”

Betty took a step in my direction, and I threw my hands defensively in front of me.

“Morgan, please, hear me out. You need to believe me when I say I never wanted to leave you there. I had no other choice. It was the only way to keep you safe.”

This wasn’t real; it couldn’t be. I shook my head.

“Keep her safe from what exactly?” asked Wesley.

Betty frowned. “Morgan, can I ask if you’ve noticed anything strange happening? Anything you can’t quite explain?”

“We wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t have reason to,” Tyler said flatly.

Betty stilled, her finger tapping her forearm. Her shoulders rolled back, chin rising as if a wave of confidence had rolled over her. “Dear, your father made me take you away to keep you from harm. ”

“From what?” I demanded.

Her expression turned wistful then. “Your father was a great man. He adored you and only wanted the best for you my dear. Your parents are both witches, but your mother became very unstable. She was not of sound mind and started to dabble in dark magic. Your father felt you had a gift so rare he couldn’t chance her knowing about it. Couldn’t chance your safety.”

“And what gift is that?” questioned Wesley.

“Your father believed you had access to the most sought-after magic known to witches. Like I said, it is very rare, and only a handful of witches possess it. Even fewer can handle it. It’s obsidian magic, a magic like no other.

The ability to call on light or dark magic, and any element that you please, as easy as taking a breath. ”

Holy crap.

“It skips generations in the same bloodline. Your father’s great grandmother possessed this power, and he was certain you would embody it next.

He worried your mother would take advantage of your gift if it were to be true, and it had never skipped so many generations before, so he was certain it was to come to you next.

He asked me to take you somewhere far away, but I felt I was being tracked, so I had to leave you at the orphanage. ”

Betty’s eyes glazed over, her voice wavering slightly.

“I cast a spell to suppress both our magic, then left you on the doorstep of the orphanage. I had no choice… I couldn’t look after you myself with no home, no job. It was my only option. I knew you would be looked after by two loving parents. Fed and watered. Kept safe. ”

She drew in a long breath.

“Your magic was to return to you when you turned twenty-five, when I knew you would be old enough to fend for yourself. Not even I could sense you or your magic once I left. I never knew where you were. But I would have found you… hired a sensor.” She paused, looking at Wesley.

“I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find you again, Morgan. I planned to teach you everything, but it seems you found me.”

Tears fell freely down my cheeks with the knowledge my father loved me enough to give me up. To keep me from harm.

“That explains why Wesley couldn’t sense your magic,” Tyler mused, staring pointedly at Wesley, who chose to ignore him.

Betty continued, “As far as I know, your parents are alive. I can tell you everything, but yes, you are a witch. And quite possibly a powerful one, too. Your birthday is soon, if I’m correct?”

I swallowed a large gulp of air, unease prickling my skin. “Yes, on Friday,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Skye turned to me, words I couldn’t read scattered across her features.

Tyler’s voice came from beside me. “So, am I correct in saying that on Friday, the spell is broken?”

Betty nodded. “Yes.”

I wasn’t one for swearing. Not f-bombs anyway, but this? This was worthy of every fucking f-bomb ever invented.

Tyler shifted beside me. “Okay, so we have less than a week to get Morgan as ready as possible for twenty-five years of suppressed magic to come at her in a day. ”

“And for whatever else may come for her,” added Skye grimly.

The room fell into a deafening silence.

I needed to throw up.