Page 98 of De-Witched

“Oh, Gabriel.”

“No, you don’t get to play the teenager card. I had reasons why you shouldn’t come here. Reasons that begin and end with your safety.”

“But I’m fine,” she protested, patting all parts of her body like a strange game of head and shoulders. “See? All working parts still attached. I know you don’t trust humans, but—”

“It isn’t that,” he cut her off, then, when her gaze called him out, he amended it to, “Not exactly. But you went out to the streets of Chicago.”

“You make it sound like some kind of war zone. Dealing with teenage witches is more treacherous.”

Because she had a point, he regrouped. “Do you know the crime rate in Chicago? Because I do.”

“Okay, but I have magic to protect me.”

“Which you can’t use in front of humans.” Sticky fear at the reminder of how their parents had died clutched in his belly, numbing him for an instant. To think of his sister being in the same situation...

Her mouth opened, closed. Something softened in her eyes. “It’s not the same, Gabriel.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, his chest, trying to ease the grip of anxiety.

“It’s a safe street, a cute neighborhood café. Sloane was with me,” she pointed out.

He didn’t laugh but another man might have. “A fourteen-year-old half witch as a bodyguard. That changes everything. Please. Go play in the streets.”

“Being around humans has affected you,” Melly teased, still with that sympathetic glint. “I just meant, if it was dangerous, she would’ve said something. And I’m not them. I’d fight, even if it meant exposing witches.” Sounding older than her years, she added softly, “I’d never choose to leave you.”

Undone, he put his hand over hers, love a sharp blade in his throat.

“Besides,” she continued, lighter now, an element of mischief warning him what was coming, “Leah wouldn’t have sent us to the coffee shop if she thought we’d be in trouble. I like her, Gabriel.”

He only heard one thing. “Leah sent you?”

“I think she wanted me and Sloane to bond.”

It would be just like Leah to encourage a friendship. She never wanted to see anyone be alone. But the idea of his sister, his younger sister, wandering unprotected had his system on high alert. While she was right that she could defend herself and ultimately, if it came down to her life and exposing the secret, he would always have her choose herself, he wasn’t so sure the High Family would agree. A cold sweat broke out at the idea of their summons.

“Promise me you’ll be more careful,” he demanded, trying to temper the fear. “You have to think before you act.”

“Sometimes you can think too much.” Her challenge was gentle but her eyes, when she lifted them to his, were hot. “I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t protect me forever.”

“I can try.”

That lifted the corners of her lips. “Gabriel, you have to let me make mistakes sometimes. Step outside the safety lines. I did, today, and look, nothing happened. Let me grow.” She squeezed his forearm. “You’re not my dad. You’re my brother.”

His words got stuck in his throat as he stared down at the girl he’d raised, suddenly a young woman.

She grinned, an impish curve. “You should be helping me make mistakes, not stopping me.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, his voice rusty. He looked up at the ceiling, then back. “When they died... You were so young. But it...affected me. I can’t change overnight, Mells.”

“I know. One step. That’s all I’m asking.”

He struggled with the instinct to say no, to wrap her up in bubble wrap. But he knew she was right, even if he hated it. Hadn’t he accepted that living, working with humans wasn’t always a bad thing? How could he admit that and then not trust Melly to navigate it herself? Under guidelines, of course. His points about the danger of losing control of magic were valid. But if another witch or someone he trusted was there to intervene...

He’d been allowed to make mistakes, though his parents had always despaired of his “acting out.” He didn’t want Melly to feel stifled, to be friendless. To have bitterness eat away at her soul. He didn’t trust all humans, hell, he didn’t trust all witches, but he could trust her. Even if it made him feel vaguely nauseous.

At some point, he thought, tracing her face, you had to take a leap.

He closed his eyes, gave in. “Fine. You can come back, but only when I’m around.”

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