Free Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble by H. P. Mallory Page A

that’s all it is. Focusing on what you want to happen and then making it happen.”
    Wow! This sounded pretty cool. I took my jacket off, contemplating some of the different things I might want to do with this newfound power. Change the curtains in the room? No, not that interesting, and I’m sure hotel management wouldn’t approve. My gaze settled on my reflection in a mirror at the far corner of the room.
    Perfect.
    “Teach me how to change myself.”
    Rand’s brows knitted together as he stood up and closed the distance between us. “Why would you want to do that?”
    “I want to see what I’d look like with different hair and…” His frown deepened. “It’s just for fun, Rand.”
    He shook his head, the beginnings of a smirk toying with his sumptuous lips. Setting his hands on my shoulders, he pushed me toward the mirror. He stood so close behind me; I could feel his heat and had to fight the urge to sink into him. His face in the mirror behind me was so perfect, I imagined he’d done some magic work on himself. How anyone be so handsome?
    “Look at yourself and focus on what you want to do.”
    His breath tickled the fine hairs on my ear and I nearly forgot what I’d set out to do. “I want to change my eyes to brown,” I finally managed. I met his gaze, and he mouthed: focus . Pulling my attention from his male perfection, I focused. And focused.
    “Nothing’s happening.”
    Rand chuckled. “Maybe because your beautiful blue eyes are offended.”
    Beautiful blue eyes? Wow, had that come out of his mouth? I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. Apparently, Rand caught the smile as his expression changed to one of contemplation.
    “Jolie, you’re beautiful. You don’t believe it, but you should. I don’t know why you have so much self doubt, but a successful witch must believe in herself.”
    “I’m not a witch,” I said automatically.
    “Maybe not yet, but you’re a witch in training. You were born with the gift and now we just need to hone it.”
    I turned from the mirror and noticed he was only inches away. His proximity caused a sense of breathlessness within me—the feeling you get when surfacing after holding your breath under water for too long.
    He needed to understand I was no witch and never would be. I was just a girl from Spokane who could see weird stuff and sometimes see visions of the future. And, okay, most recently bring back dead people. But, I was no witch.
    “I don’t want to be a witch.”
    Rand’s brows drew together. “Why? You’re very powerful. You have more potential than I’ve ever seen in anyone.”
    “Well that’s all fine and good, but I like my life as it is.”
    Rand sighed and rubbed the back of his head as if he couldn’t grasp the fact that I wouldn’t want to be a witch, as if being a witch were like winning the Miss America title.
    “This is a calling, Jolie, not a decision for you to make. Witches are born this way, they aren’t created.”
    If witches were born in such a way, then I was definitely not one. My mother was a very religious woman and had no witch anything about her and my father (rest his soul) had been pretty much the same. “Neither of my parents are witches,” I said with a knowing smirk, as if I’d bested the warlock.
    Rand’s lips downturned, and his eyes filled with what I can only term annoyance. “That’s a subject for another day.”
    “You aren’t going to tell me I’m adopted, are you?”
    He shook his head. “No, nothing as dramatic as that. Your parents don’t need to be witches or warlocks. As long as one of them is the descendent of a witch or warlock, they can pass the trait to their offsng, and such is the case with you.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “So, who was the witch or warlock descendant then?”
    “How the bloody hell should I know? Ask your mother.” Before I had the chance to respond, he continued. “You are a witch as much as I am one.”
    “But how do you know?” I couldn’t