Free The Witch Collector Part I by Loretta Nyhan

coven’s loss, but that question was low on the list of things I needed to ask my mom and dad. And I needed those answers soon, with or without help from Shelley, Miro, and Vadim. I eyed the door, still propped open a crack.
    As if reading my thoughts, Shelley said, “I’m going with you.”
    â€œWe’re all going with,” Miro said with a sigh. “Between the three of us we can take on a demon.”
    â€œFour,” I said.
    In a flash Miro stood in front of me, his fingers tilting my chin up so I could meet his eyes. His touch wasn’t exactly gentle. “As much as you can help it, you are not to do any magic. Do you understand?”
    I nodded, prying his fingers away from my face. “Okay. I get it.”
    â€œI don’t think you do. I don’t know you well enough to care much about your safety, but these people are my coven, my family . I will help you find yours because it’s the right thing to do. But if you feel even the faintest tickle of magic in your veins, you will ignore it. You will fight against it. I don’t know if you’re strong enough to handle what’s happening to you.”
    â€œI’m not weak.” I didn’t know if I was strong or weak, but I didn’t want him to think he could bully me.
    â€œCome on,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door.
    â€œMiro,” Shelley said, a sharp note of warning in her voice.
    â€œShe needs to feel it,” he said.
    But we were already outside, and I didn’t think Shelley heard him. A part of me wished she’d follow us, but she didn’t. No one did.
    I shivered in the cool night air. “We’re wasting time.”
    Miro ignored me, carefully picking up the ceramic frog that had held the restaurant’s door open and placing it to the side. He closed the door firmly, leaving us alone in the dark alley.
    He stepped in front of me and tilted my head up again, barely brushing my skin with his fingers, guiding me to look at the night sky. “The moon is nearly full,” he said. “Look.”
    The moon hung low, swollen and washed in pinkish red. I stared at it, letting the bright shape fill my vision. “I like the moon better than the sun,” I said, my thoughts tumbling out unedited. “More shadows. I could hide in them. Sleep in the craters.”
    What was I talking about? Thankfully, Miro didn’t laugh. “Don’t be embarrassed. Your brain is working differently now. Do you have visions after you do magic? That’s one example.”
    I blinked, disoriented. I felt dizzy. “Yes, every time. Why does that happen?”
    â€œThey’re nature’s way of talking to you,” he explained. “The transition can be brutal and confusing. The visions help keep you grounded. They’re meant to be a sort of dialogue. If you pay attention, the natural world is usually telling you something.”
    Those moments with Brandon, Sonya, my parents—what was the message? I tried to remember my visions, but I couldn’t focus; my mind only jumped past random images. Frustrated, I brought my fists to my closed eyes.
    Miro took my wrists and pulled them away from my face. “Look at the trees,” he said. “Focus on them and let everything else fade. Can you feel the leaves growing?”
    At first the branches just seemed cold and bare. Then the life within each bud pulsed within me. . . . My hands started to shake with the need to touch them, to help the process along. I felt like I could bring plants from the earth with the force of my desire to see them bloom.
    â€œTake a deep breath,” he said, taking an exaggerated one of his own. “Your lungs need the fresh air, don’t they?”
    They did. With each intake of breath, the oxygen repaired what the magic had broken inside me. Energy pushed from my lungs to the rest of my body, where it eased the tightened muscles. The