Page 11 of The Accidental Witch

Greer came and sat in the chair closest to her, striding across the floor as hairballs from Wanda and Marty’sshifttumbled past his feet.

His eyes, though sympathetic, were intense, his lean face sober. “Are you ready to hear how I found you and what I think needs to be done?”

“Does it have to do with wearing a pointy hat, a cauldron and some frogs legs?”

He grinned, and even in the middle of all the chaos, Robbie noted it was beautiful. “No frog legs.”

“But definitely a pointy hat and a cauldron?” she asked again, only half-joking.

Now he chuckled, sending a sizzle of electricity along her spine as he folded his hands together in his lap. “Pointy hats are a little sixteen ninety-two Salem witch trials, but the hat once symbolized many things. Otherness, freedom.”

Otherness. The word struck Robbie at her core. She’d always felt different than her family. Always. They didn’t feel things the way she felt them. She’d always been accused of being overly sensitive, and Robbie considered all ofthemcallous—especially her mother. That word fit her to a T.

As Greer watched, she lifted her chin. “Okay, so scratch the pointy hat. What about eye of newt? Is there any eye of newt, because I’m here to tell you, I’ve eaten fish eyes and they’re disgusting.”

He laughed again and shook his head. “No eye of newt. Spells are much more complicated than the movies portray them. We’ll get to that later. Though, you do have a broom. That means the universe knows of your existence and sent aid.”

Robbie sat up straight, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “You mean him? Hervé? How can he aid me? All he’s done so far is freak me out.”

“Oh, mon ami, how do you say such things about Hervé?” the broom groaned. “Why do you hurt me so?”

Greer leaned closer, giving her a whiff of his fresh-scented cologne. “You know, having a broom can be pretty amazing.”

“See! Ze pretty man tells ze truth. I am an asset!”

Robbie gave Greer a bland look. “No disrespect, but how is he an asset?”

He looked back at her, a twinkle is his beautiful eyes. “He’s your ride or die.Literally.”

Marty jumped up from her chair, her eyes wide. “Shut the front door! Do you mean Hervé can fly?”

Greer smiled, the grooves on either side of his mouth deepening. “I do.”

Herve danced across the brick floor with a little shimmy. “I am an asset!” he sang.

But Robbie blanched. “LikeHocus Pocus, Sanderson-sisters flying broom?”

His reply was simple. “Yes.”

Glory be. “That’s insane.”

Tottington, who’d been in a state of quiet shock, finally spoke. “What part of this is more insane than what we just witnessed, Roberta?”

Robbie nodded. “Not untrue, but…”But what? She’d run out of buts.

“Listen, Robbie. Can I call you Robbie?” When she nodded, Greer continued. “This is all a lot to deal with, and I understandyou’re overwhelmed, but we have some imminent tasks to handle if we’re going to figure out how to handle this.”

“So what you’re saying is, get my act together?”

Nina snorted. “Like that’s going to happen anytime fucking soon. We still have at least another day of her whining and crying, ‘OMG, this isn’t really happening’ malarky. Good luck with your fucking imminence.”

Robbie straightened, determined to prove to Nina she wasn’t as soft as the vampire (was she the vampire? Or was she the half vampire, half werewolf? Their labels were fuzzy) thought.

She was no shrinking violet. Robbie wasn’t so sure why it was important to prove to Nina she wasn’t a sissy, but for some reason, she was the one Robbie least wanted to see her sweat.

She’d been doing this all her life. Proving herself to people. Proving her family’s money didn’t make her an insensitive snob. Proving she could live up to expectations. Proving she could keep her mouth shut until she exploded.

Proving.

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