Free A Dangerous Witch (Witch Central Series: Book 3) by Debora Geary

handful of cookies and headed Govin’s direction.  His mind was full of holes at the moment, but it was always more polite to ask what she wanted to know.  She smiled as a glass of lemonade materialized in her hand.  Apparently Aervyn was recovering quickly.
    Govin looked up as she sat down.  “Thanks for being the rescue squad.”
    Lauren held out a cookie and threw a few patches at his battered mind channels.  Anything to help a guy avoid green goo.  What happened?
    I don’t know.   He choose his words carefully.  Mia pulled a lot of power.
    That much she knew.  She waited as patiently as she could for the rest.
    He grimaced.  I don’t know.   When TJ and I watch the weather, we talk about butterfly wings.  A tiny thing that feels like it will grow into a big thing.
    Realtors had those feelings too, and Lauren respected them.  Your gut feels something.
    Yeah.  He sounded as frustrated as all hell.  Something felt strange, and I can’t tell what it was.
    That, too, Lauren knew well.  She dropped half a dozen cookies into his hand.  “Eat.  Then go do something distracting.  It’ll come to you.”  And in the meantime, she’d fill in the others.
    Yellow alert.  Keep a watch out.  For butterfly wings.
    -o0o-
    It had begun.
    The orb sensed the unease from the one who listened.  And the weariness from the others, including the man who loved her.  He wasn’t often tired.
    He was water—magnificent oceans of it.  And he would try to fight the fire.
    The orb had no special knowledge of what would come, no reason to feel fear.  None of the mutterings from the forces of the universe that often presaged disaster.
    And yet, Mohana Nitya Ratna Mandeep worried.
    It had tasted many kinds of fire in its existence.  Foretold of many more.
    Fire so often came with an excruciating price.
    And too many of those the orb had grown to care about would try to pay it.

Chapter 6

    It wasn’t often Nell caught her mother knitting—Retha Sullivan rarely sat still long enough to do such things.  This morning, however, she looked almost tired.  And that was a concern, given her current task. 
    Nell closed the last few steps and held out a cup of strong, hot tea.  “Long night?” 
    “Mmmm.”   Retha’s first words got lost in a grateful sip.  “Thank you.  My purl stitches were starting to look like little taunting nooses, daring me to jab them with my pointy sticks.”
    That sounded more like her mother.  “You should have woken me up.”  Baby fire-witch duty came with lots of unspoken rules, and one was that you didn’t stay on duty if your eyes required toothpicks to stay open.
    I’m not going to fall over into my tea quite yet, came the amused, acerbic reply.  I figured someone would be stirring soon enough.
    Probably.  Mornings still started early in the Walker household, even after crazy days of magic.  “Daniel’s downstairs mixing up waffle batter.”  The beginnings of a six-hour breakfast affair—Saturdays brought lots of hungry visitors to their door.
    Retha chuckled.  “The ones who live here consume plenty of waffles, too.  I think Aervyn ate four helpings of spaghetti last night.”
    He had.  And Nell planned to resolutely ignore the uncomfortable hitch in her belly on that one, at least until she’d had another cup of caffeine.  The size of Mia’s magic had been scary enough—her lack of ability to see it had every last fire-witch nerve jangling.  Loudly.
    “Mia had flying dreams last night.”  Understanding and empathy from a mother and grandmother who never let anyone squirm away from things they needed to look at.
    Nell sighed and took a seat on the tattered couch that sat in the landing nook outside the girls’ room.  “Sounds like she did more than imagine herself on a broomstick.”
    “All three of them were flying.”  Retha’s eyes looked sad now.  “In a strange, white world with filmy curtains hanging down everywhere, burning.  Mia could see