Free A Hidden Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 2) by Debora Geary

for calm. “Unless we had a small child under the table,
there were only two witches in the room. I’m sorry, Nell, but I
just can’t take the word of your scanning program over everything I
know to be true. Marcus scanned Elorie as well. I even—” she ground
to a halt for a moment, ashamed to go on.
    There should be no secrets amongst witches.
Speaking quietly, she continued. “I asked my scrying bowl to look
into her future. It wouldn’t speak to me. I even tried Great Gran’s
crystal ball. If Elorie was a witch, surely the portents would
foretell.”
    Sophie smiled sadly. “You love her so very much,
Aunt Moira. And that crystal ball’s never worked, you know
that.”
    Tears threatened, and Moira tried to fight them
off. “I know it. But I had to try. I’d be the very first in the
line of happiness if my beloved girl were a witch, and I know you’d
be right behind me. But this isn’t right, and we need to stop. It’s
tearing her apart. Your scan must simply be wrong, Nell.”
    “It’s not just scans now.” Nell shrugged
helplessly. “This isn’t really mine to tell, but Jamie had a flash
of precog when he first saw Elorie earlier today.”
    Moira felt her heart clench. “And what did he
see of my girl’s future?”
    “Remember, precog isn’t certain,” Nell said, her
eyes pleading.
    “I know that.” Moira reached gently for the
screen. “Tell me, Nell. It’s better that I know.”
    “I didn’t have time to talk with him, but he
mindsent at least part of what he saw. My girl and yours, in the
magic light of a working full circle.”
    Now the tears came, a great well of them. “My
Elorie, she does magic?”
    “It’s only a possibility,” Sophie whispered, her
face a tangle of emotions.
    In her head, Moira knew what Sophie said to be
true. In her Irish heart, she felt the agony of hope.
    Precognition was an age-old way of witch
knowing—unpredictable at times, and fickle at others, like many
magics—but her blood heard and trusted, in a way it never could
with Nell’s gadgets and machines. If Jamie saw magic in her
girl, then they must seek to unveil it.
    “Well, then,” she said, her voice a wee bit
quavery. “We need to find out, don’t we? An untrained witch is a
dangerous witch.”

Chapter 6
    Elorie put her hand on the mouse and watched in
confused frustration as once again, the readout she’d dubbed the
Power-O-Meter spiked happily. That screen was becoming her own
personal definition of hell.
    She’d been working with Jamie and Ginia for
almost an hour as they tweaked and re-tweaked the scanning code for
more precise readings. Even her renowned patience was becoming very
thin.
    She’d been raised to serve the witching
community in any way she could, so when Jamie had asked for an
hour, she agreed.
    Now it was time for this insanity to end. Elorie
Shaw was not a witch, and she was very tired of trying to prove it.
“It still says I’m a witch. I don’t feel like we’re making a whole
lot of progress here.”
    Nell walked into the room with a tray of milk
and cookies and a big bowl of strawberries. Elorie’s heart
tightened in momentary homesickness as she remembered the
going-away bucket of blueberries her witchlings had picked. Jamie
glanced at her in brief sympathy, a reminder that her brain was
clearly still very leaky where mind witches were concerned.
    He tapped Ginia’s shoulder, and she looked up
from her code. “Okay, group huddle. Nell, can you brainstorm with
us for a few minutes?”
    Elorie got up to leave, but Jamie motioned her
back to the table.
    “I’m not a coder, Jamie. I don’t think I can
contribute to this conversation.” And I think it’s better you
work on this without me.
    He met her eyes for a moment. “You’re a thinker,
and a student of witch history. Brainstorming works best when there
are lots of different ideas at the table.”
    Elorie tried to fight off a lifetime of good
manners, and lost. She sat.
    Nell handed her a cookie, the