Free wicked witches 08.6 - a witch in time by Amanda M. Lee

get you. He says it’s not your time. He’ll still be here when it is your time. Until then, you’re needed at home.”
    “This is my home now,” Aunt Tillie said, taking a step away. “You two need to wake up and get out of my mind. You’re giving me a migraine with all the arguing.”
    “Did you break Landon’s code?” I asked, going for levity. I was desperate to keep her engaged in the conversation.
    Aunt Tillie snorted. “Yeah. I can’t figure out how he became a Fed.”
    “Hey! This isn’t about me,” Landon snapped. “You need to come with us.” He reached to grab Aunt Tillie’s arm with his free hand and missed. She was already gone, the spot in which she stood only seconds before now empty. “Where did she go?”
    “Oh, no,” I muttered, the world tilting again. “Wherever it is, we’re going with her.”
    “Hang on,” Landon said, pulling me tight against his chest. “It will be over soon.”
    I knew he meant the trip to a new memory, but my worry was more important things would be over soon. We would only be left to sleep for so long before someone woke us. If that happened, would Aunt Tillie remain behind forever?

----
Crying isn’t good for anything. The only time you should cry is if you’re manipulating someone, lying, trying to get out of a ticket, pretending you’re upset when someone dies even though you really want to dance on their grave, someone cancels your favorite show, you stub your toe, someone steals your pot and wine, or when watching “E.T. The Extraterrestrial.” Those are the only times crying is acceptable.
– Aunt Tillie trying to get Clove to stop crying

Seven
    Landon absorbed the bulk of the jolt when we landed this time, groaning under my added weight.
    “I’m so sorry,” I murmured, running my hand down his cheek. “Did I break your back?”
    Landon smirked. “I think I’ll survive,” he said, gingerly pushing me up so he could run his hand over his back. “I’m going to kill that woman once we get her to wake up, though. I think she’s doing it on purpose.”
    “Still, let me see,” I said, digging my fingers into the tender spot at the base of his back and causing him to moan. “At least I know the way to your heart. If I wrapped myself in bacon and massaged you every day, I can pretty much guarantee you would never leave me.”
    “The bacon and massages are just a bonus,” Landon clarified. “I won’t leave you because of you.”
    I sighed as I sat behind him and rubbed, chuckling at his muted groans. I wasn’t sure where we were. We appeared to be on the ground again, but there was no sight of the house or of any Hemlock Cove – or Walkerville, for that matter – landmarks to give me an idea of where we landed. “What do you think about what Aunt Tillie said?”
    “I don’t know,” Landon replied, his head hanging as I worked out the kinks in his sore muscles. “Oh, keep doing that. You’re right. I’m yours forever.”
    I snickered. “All we’re missing is you doing that leg thing dogs do when you find their sweet spot.”
    Landon half-heartedly jerked his leg. He was trying to bolster my spirits. I offered him a wan smile for the effort. “I’m worried,” I admitted. “I’ve never seen Aunt Tillie so … lost.”
    “Bay, I don’t know what to tell you,” Landon said. “I think we’re here to make sure she goes back, but she’s fighting the effort. I can’t say I blame her.”
    My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “Why?”
    “Calvin was the love of her life,” Landon answered. “She never got over losing him. He’s here. If I lost you … well … I don’t consider myself a defeatist, but I can’t say I wouldn’t want to stay with you if I found you after the fact.”
    It was a sweet sentiment. It was also a little morbid. “Do you think about losing me often?”
    Landon shrugged. “I worry you’re going to get in over your head,” he answered. “I like you just the way you are, but you find trouble