Free T*Witches: The Witch Hunters by Randi Reisfeld, H.B. Gilmour Page B

That much Cam was sure of.
    “That jerk called you a witch in class? Inappropriate, bordering on harassment much? I’d report —”
    Sukari paled. “No — I’m probably making too much of it. I don’t want to cause a big thing.…
    Cam sighed.
You didn’t cause it,
she wanted to scream. Her mind raced. Sukari had come to her—somehow the AP ace had sensed, known, that if anyone could understand, Cam would. And be able to help. And isn’t that what her gifts, her powers, were supposed to be for?
    Cam gave humor a shot. “Okay, then, play along with him. Bring a Nimbus 2000 to class tomorrow.”
    Swing and a miss. Sukari’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Time to get real.
    She didn’t go into all of it. She talked about how some people — without mentioning Dave, or Alex’s adoptive mom, Sara, or others she and Als had run into — were just hyper-aware, supersensitive to what was going on around them. Their radar was keener, their instincts sharper, their intuition dead-on.
    “Like you,” Suke said.
    “Um, yeah, sort of,” Cam responded. She’d half expected Sukari to argue or ask how she knew all this, or insist on proof. But the stressed-out girl was just grateful to hear that she was not alone.
    Cam didn’t discuss the hierarchy. Didn’t say that these people were called Sensitives.
    Or that they were capable of rearing and protecting fledgling witches and warlocks, but not of becoming one.
    Or that, when a Sensitive accepted a fledgling to rear, he or she became a Protector.
    Rearing and protecting? Cam shuddered violently. Without thinking, she rubbed her still-clammy hands together. And wisps of the Witch Hunter’s story seemed to rise out of them.
    He’d known the truck was going to crash. Like Dave, he’d met a witch, probably a tracker, at a healing and magic convention. And he had been given a fledgling witch to rear. So he had gone from Sensitive to Protector.
    But what had happened? Why had he turned against all witches?
    “I’m a scientist,” Sukari was saying. “My dad’s a doctor, my mom’s a researcher. How am I supposed to accept this … this …”
    “This gift,” Cam finally said. She sat down on theden’s beat-up leather sofa and pulled Sukari onto the cushion next to her. “Okay, listen up,” she said, hanging on to the stressed girl’s cold hands. She explained gently, lightly, leaving lots out, what a blessing it could be to kinda “know” things, sense stuff.… Especially, Cam added, if you were a scientist. She reminded Suke of the banner posted in their ninth grade science class: IMAGINATION IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN KNOWLEDGE. A quote from Albert Einstein.
    Sukari was nodding, buying it, squeezing Cam’s hands gratefully. “I’ve always been very intuitive,” she agreed. “And empathetic. My dad says that’s what will make me a great doctor.” Then, all of a sudden, she shook her head and leaped up. “Okay. Let’s say I accept your premise. That this sudden mojo gift is a good thing. Then why is it bugging Mr. Spenser so much?”
    What had Karsh told them once? When you point a finger, you’ve got three pointing back at you. And Ileana? She’d said something similar: If you can name it, you can claim it.
    Spenser had seen something of himself in Sukari, something he obviously didn’t like.
    The same must be true of the Witch Hunter, Cam realized. He must have experienced something upsetting, too. Something to do with witches. With the infant witch the tracker Elfman had placed in his care …
    And then she knew. It was so obvious. So easy. The scent of chem lab they kept smelling. How could she not have guessed? Alex was right. Mr. Golem wasn’t the Witch Hunter. …
    Cam could hardly wait to dash upstairs and tell her sister what had happened in the school basement, and what she’d finally figured out.
    But as she walked Sukari to the door, the girl said, “One more thing. Cam, how come it’s happening now? Why did I suddenly start