Free A Necklace of Water by Cate Tiernan Page A

God.” I was appalled and felt my throat close and tears spring to my eyes.
I
had done that to Kevin. My making magick had sent him to the hospital. And now all sorts of memories came to me—of Kevin suddenly seeming dizzy a couple of times. Even his stepmother swaying against a door frame. Every time I had called up the tiniest little spell, it had affected him badly. Today the spell had been pretty strong, and it had practically killed him.
    “Oh my God,” I repeated. “What am I going to do?”
    “You have to learn how to put up boundaries as fast as you can,” said Petra. “But that can take a long time. Or you have to stop making magick of any kind, for any reason, around Kevin—or any other non-witch, for that matter. Witches have a built-in defense mechanism—you’d have to try really hard to take our power.”
    I swallowed, not looking at her, steering my mind away from what I wanted to do to Daedalus.
    “The third option is, you have to stop seeing Kevin.”
    Today, last night, this whole week had been too much. I couldn’t stand it. “I’m going to take a shower,” I said, my voice breaking. Standing up, I didn’t even make it through the doorway before I started crying.
    “Thais,” Petra called.
    I turned back and saw her looking very serious.
    “You need to make some hard choices,” she said, her voice gentle. “But you must make them. Let me know if you need help.”
    I nodded and headed upstairs. In the bathroom I pulled the shower curtain around the big old-fashioned tub and turned on the water. I lay in the tub, eyes closed, with the water raining down on me as if it could wash away all my darkness.

Another Hundred Years
    “I ’m not sure she wants to talk to you.” Axelle sounded apologetic, but Sophie knew better.
    She had come prepared. “I need to speak to Manon now, Axelle.”
    When Axelle continued to block her apartment door, Sophie brushed past her and entered the cool, dark interior. It was amazing, Sophie thought, how they each managed to find their own environments in whatever city they happened to be living in. Axelle’s apartments always looked like this. Daedalus’s were unmistakably his. Wherever she and Manon settled, it had always seemed homey and warm, welcoming and safe.
    Except now. Now Manon was gone, most of her clothes out of their closet. It felt unbearably bleak and empty, awful to come home to. And she’d been gone only four days.
    Axelle’s small, dark foyer opened up into the large main room on the right and a small galley kitchen on the left, separated from the hallway by a half counter. A black cat sat on the counter, drinking water from a bowl.
    It took a moment for Sophie’s eyes to adjust—the kitchen light was on, but the main room was lit by only two inadequate lamps. The first thing she saw was Marcel’s bright, copper-penny hair, starkly visible against the black and white of the kitchen. What was he doing here?
    “Sophie,” he said, nodding at her.
    “Hi,” she said, flustered, and then turned toward the main room. To her relief she saw Manon, draped over both arms of a big leather chair, reading a
Marie Claire
magazine.
    “Hi,” Sophie said, hurrying over to her. She sank down beside Manon’s chair, gazing up at the face she’d loved for more than a hundred years. Manon looked tired, unhappy, and Sophie wanted to pull her into her arms, hold her tightly, tell her everything was going to be all right. Reaching out, she touched Manon’s denim-covered knee, but Manon pulled away. Sophie’s heart sank lower.
    “Can we talk, please?” she asked in a low voice, all too aware of Marcel and Axelle.
    Manon’s expression was unforgiving. “We’ve talked.”
    Sophie glanced behind her to see Axelle making no effort to disguise the fact that she was listening in. She was making a gin and tonic at the kitchen counter while Marcel watched her, frowning slightly. Why was he here, anyway? He couldn’t stand Axelle.
    “Please, honey,”