Free The Bloody Mary Diet: The Detective Adele Series Book 1 by Caroline Stuchlik Page B

as powerful as my family but I could feel it when I met my dad. He is a wizard, whether he likes it or not and so David is at least half majik, too. Maybe it will help us find him. Maybe it won’t.
    I was not around before the “Sickness” came and I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t at least okay to be something else. I always knew I was different I just didn’t know that meant. My family had been one of the first prominent witching families to come forward when the Sickness had gotten really bad. The majik community had always had an advantage over the regulars when it came to illness because we have a slightly different DNA make up and it is enough to make us resistant to most viral illness that can sweep through the human population. I have never even had a cold.  It is the reason why so many witches are healers.  We don’t catch what our patients have.
    When the Sickness came so many regulars were dying that witching families stood out. We were the only ones not dead. Regular doctors had identified the viral strain and even the source but no cure and no one else was left to care for the ill.  We had stepped up.  My family alone was credited with saving hundreds. 
    When the other supers stepped up and were accepted to o it was not so much a revelation as a relief. Someone had come to help. Witches, vampires, shifters, it didn’t matter. We were heroes. But that was then.  Now we are just different or weird or whatever.
    I really never even knew that we were ever considered dangerous or evil or scary until I was about 12 years old.  That is when Poppi left and Gran’s crazy started starting earlier in the day. I know now that part of the crazy was drinking but it didn’t help at the time. The other kids in the neighborhood would call my Gran a “crazy witch” as opposed to just crazy.  Like being a witch made it worse somehow. 
    It got more difficult as I got older. In school we studied things like the witch trials and how regulars were tried and burned because stupid people couldn’t tell the difference between a witch and a regular scared old lady. My teachers seemed to be saying that it would have been okay to burn them had they been real witches. Almost like it was the real witches fault the trials happened in the first place.  I began to understand that there is a difference between being accepted and belonging.
    I can tell you how to tell the difference between a witch and a scared old lady if you really want to know.  The witch will kill you first. Every time. She may never start the fight but she will always finish it. Keep it in mind.
    So anyway, I finally realized would always be somewhat apart because we would always be somewhat different.  It had been hard at first but after a while you learn to accept it.  The people who should matter are the ones who love you and everyone else has to be let go. Forget them if you can because hate will kill you from the inside. Whether it is your hate or theirs.
    Maybe my dad will like me if I can find David for him, maybe he won’t. I can’t afford to pin my hopes on it, I have learned that from experience.
    I am still holding Trevor’s hand and we are home. I will call Ireland to tell Gran and Charles about our new marital state. Hopefully they are not too far gone too remember.
    When we get “ home”, that sounds so strange, I ask if I can use one of the mirrors to call.  I don’t know what time it is there but with two of them it doesn’t really matter.  I know they will share a room and I know they will be together.  They always are.
    Trevor takes me to the master suite, it is amazing, and shows me the dresser mirror.  I have to pull up a chair to get to glass so I can place my call.  This thing is huge.  Everything in here is huge.  I slip out my tiny scissors from my purse and prick my finger hard.  I want enough blood for a pretty good size circle.  As soon as I am done drawing it I remember that Trevor is a vampire and