Page 34 of Midlife Witch Unexpected

“You have a region master?” I asked. “What is that? Do I have a region master?”

“Well yes, you do, or else I couldn’t have been assigned,” he said.

I wrinkled up my face. “There is so much I need to know.”

“This isn’t twenty questions,” he said, plonking himself down at the table. “I’m here to look after your house.”

“I didn’t even know I had a house that needed looking after,” I said, pouring boiling water over the tea leaves in my mug. I hugged it in the corner, wishing I had some cinnamon for it.

Branson set up a little straighter. “What just happened? What did you just wish for?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly smelling the scent of cinnamon come in for my coffee.

“That’s amazing,” he said.

“What’s amazing?” I asked smelling the coffee deeply.

“Your magic is already really strong and working.” He stood up and came into extremely close proximity to me to take the mug out of my hand and smell it.

“How can you tell?” I asked, snatching it back and taking a sip of coffee.

“It tastes like cinnamon?” he asked. “That’s what you wished for.”

“Oh my, yes it does!” I exclaimed. “And yes, it is.”

There was a loud knocking at the door, then a split-second pause before it opened and Bianca came in like a whirlwind of energy.

I’d been so caught up in smelling the cinnamon I hadn’t even heard her pull up.

“Hey!” She said a big grin on her face and she stepped into the doorway and saw me standing there sipping my Witches’ Brew.

I slammed the tea down. “Bianca!” I stepped forward, hoping to keep her out of the kitchen, but it was too late. She looked over at Branson. “Why hello there,” she grinned up at him. “Bad timing on my part, I see.”

She tossed a loaf of bread into Branson’s hands, turned on her heel, and headed back to the front door. “Call me later!” she cried. “The bread is warm, enjoy it!”

“I’m sorry!” I called out. The horrible thing was I wanted to hang out with her, I just didn’t want to be with her and Branson at the same time.

“Don’t mention it.” She threw a smirk over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her.

Chapter 21

The next few days were a scurry of me learning the basics of being a witch. No, there was no broom flying. Yes, you had to be careful which direction you pointed your finger. No, your middle finger didn’t have special powers. Though, so far, other than zapping the vampire, my hands had proven mostly useless. There wasn’t a whole lot the coven could tell me about my magic. It was apparently incredibly unique, each person’s magic, and it didn’t follow any set of genetic traits. You had to feel your way to the magic and learn some rudimentary spells they had apparently all learned in kindergarten. Things like how to create a safety zone around yourself. And extend it to a safety zone around the house. It was apparently one of the things witches were in fact particularly good at. In all of New Attica, we had carved out a niche for it, and now witches primarily worked as Keepers of wards for all of the other species in New Attica.

But the whole time I studied the basic skills, one thought kept floating to the top of my mind, there must be something important in the cemetery if the demigods have gone through this much trouble to protect it.

Now I stood in the altar room, staring at it and then my hands, trying to figure out how to make them do something different, something special, something unique, and mine. I placed my hands carefully on the copper bowl. Purple and green light danced around my hands. It skipped across the copper bowl. I had no idea what my powers meant, but I knew I had them. And it was a little damn frustrating being forty-nine years old and not knowing what my power meant.

Witch’s knowledge of magic was handed down from their ancestors and taught in their schools, but I had none of this. I had been taken out of this entire world and raised like a Normie in L.A. So, even as I slowly learned the most basic yet crucial spells, like making a cup of tea first thing in the morning, I was failing at other things, like understanding what my special power was.

Hilda had taken to coming by in the afternoons to help me as best she could. She taught me the spells she knew, so I slowly began to be able to make the plants grow. This evening we were sitting in the library reviewing spells in a variety of books to see if there were any that caught my attention or energized me. That’s how Hilda said we would know.

“Does the plant I picked out tell you anything about my powers?” I asked in frustration after hours of searching.

“Nope,” Hilda said. “It told me you like tropical plants. They can survive in non-tropical weather. So, you feel like a fish out of water, and you were leaning toward something that might also be feeling along the same lines. That’s what it told me.”

“Oh my gosh, you realize you sound like one of those old-fashioned psychics who for five dollars tells you you’re going to fall in love with a tall, dark, and handsome stranger,” I said with a laugh.

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