Prelude to a Witch by Amanda Lee (free novel reading sites TXT) 📕

“We’re not saying it’s bad,” Mom insisted. “Stop jumping to the worst possible conclusions, Clove. We’re saying we have to deal with it.”

Clove’s face was blank. “What do you mean?”

“We love you,” Marnie started. “We love you very much.”

Clove’s lower lip started to tremble. “Am I dying?”

“Oh, you guys are worse at this than Bay and I would’ve been,” Thistle snapped. She leaned over, resting her hands on her knees, and stared directly into Clove’s eyes. “You have to have the baby here.”

Clove immediately balked. “No way. I’m not doing a home birth. I want to go to the hospital, where there are drugs and epidurals.”

“That’s not an option.” Thistle said. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but here it is: You have to have the baby here in case it’s born in glowing light or somehow zings someone with magic during the birth. We can’t explain a glowing baby to random nurses and doctors.”

“No!” Clove vehemently shook her head. “I’m having the baby in the hospital. I need drugs.”

“Drugs aren’t good for the baby,” Marnie pointed out.

“Who cares?” Clove was adamant. “Drugs are good for mommy. If I have a stoned baby for three days, it will be fine. She’ll survive.”

“You’ll survive a home birth,” Mom said. “Some of the covens have wonderful midwives. We’ll get you the very best.”

“Absolutely not.” Enraged, Clove hopped to her feet. I hadn’t seen her move that fast in weeks. “I am not having this baby at home. It’s not going to happen.”

“You are.” Mom folded her arms over her chest. “We can’t risk the baby doing something that draws attention at the hospital. What if somebody wants to swoop in and study it? Do you want your baby turned into a lab rat?”

Clove worked her jaw. “No. But I need drugs.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Aunt Tillie said with a hand wave. “I have plenty of pot. We’ll just get you stoned.” She risked a glance at a disapproving Chief Terry. “It’s legal now. You can’t stop us.”

“I don’t want to get stoned,” Clove whined. “I want an epidural. I don’t want to feel it.”

“I had an epidural,” Twila noted. “I still felt it. Have you seen the size of Thistle’s head?” She pointed for emphasis. “Even with an epidural, you’re going to feel that.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Thistle said dryly. She was calm when she held out her hands to Clove. “I know you’re upset about this, but it really is the best thing. You won’t remember the pain.”

“Oh, I hate this.” Clove threw herself on the couch and started to cry, big sobs wracking her body. “My life is over. You guys have taken my only hope.”

“Well, that’s not dramatic or anything,” Aunt Tillie drawled.

“You haven’t even given birth, you crazy old bat,” Clove hissed. “What do you know?”

I pressed my lips together and turned, surprised to find that Landon had moved to my side. “Things are getting heavy,” I noted.

“So I see.” He brushed his fingers against my cheek and held them up so I could see the pads were wet. “You’re crying.”

I wasn’t as bothered about the fact as I should’ve been. “It’s because Clove is crying.”

“I hope you don’t feel the other things Clove feels when she’s in labor and can’t control her magic or emotions.”

Oh, well, crap. I hadn’t even considered that. “We need to find a midwife who can give her an epidural,” I said, my voice carrying across the room.

“I’m right there with you.” Thistle looked horrified at the thought. “I am not going through labor with her and getting nothing out of it.”

“Oh, shut up over there,” Mom warned. She focused on Clove. “You guys are being ridiculous babies.”

She was right, but still ... . I met Landon’s gaze. “If I have to go through labor I’m going to be really angry.”

“You’re not the only one. I feel your pain too, remember?”

“Right.” I rolled my neck, my eyes falling on the window of the door. There were no shades present, something I was relieved about, but I was reminded that we had more than one thing to worry about. “We need to have a seance on the bluff tonight.”

“What?” Mom’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you kidding me? Why would we want to have a seance now?”

“We need to talk to those shades, and I think we’re going to need a lot of magic to force them to come to us.”

“But ... ,” Mom began to protest.

“We have to do it,” Landon insisted. “The sooner we get rid of these shades, the sooner you guys can come up with a plan for Clove ... and I would prefer the plan not involve torturing my future wife in the process.”

Mom looked tired as she stroked Clove’s hair. “We’ll conduct a seance. You’re the expert.”

I didn’t feel like an expert, but we were running out of time. Something had to be done before somebody else was hurt. I didn’t want it to be a member of my family.

“Dusk,” I said. “Everybody needs to be there.”

22

Twenty-Two

I was nervous when it was time to head out to the bluff. I hadn’t eaten much, which bothered Landon, but my stomach was too jittery to inhale the meatloaf my mother and aunts had cooked.

“We’ll have cake in bed when this is done,” Landon said as we walked to the bluff. Everybody else had already left the inn. “We’ll be naked when we eat it.”

A laugh bubbled up, and I was relieved it cut through some of the tension. “That sounds like a plan.”

He caught my hand before we crested the final hill. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

“Like what?”

“Like ... put yourself in danger.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Make sure you are.” He squeezed my hand. Hard. “Remember that proposal I gave you out here.”

“The one that no man will ever be able to match,” I teased.

“I meant every word. I want you to be you. I accept the