Page 35 of Wallflower Witch
I scream as I push all the power I can find in myself into shaking loose the door.
There’s a loud pop, then silence.
I sink to the ground, utterly exhausted.
Matt picks me up, cradling me against this chest. I smile drowsily, fighting to keep my eyes open.
“Did we do it?” I murmur.
“You did,” he answers, brushing a kiss over my forehead.
I hear voices in the background but can’t force myself to pay attention to what they are saying. I vaguely feel myself being carried somewhere but I trust Matt and the others to take care of me, allowing my thoughts to drift.
The light behind my eyelids darkens, and I blink my eyes open and realize we are back inside the O’Byrne manor. Making our way back to the study, Matt sits me down on the pallet we set up earlier.
Josh settles on the floor next to me, grabbing a granola bar and pressing it into my hands. “How do you feel?” When I don’t move to open the bar, he does it for me before pushing it back into my hand. “Eat.”
I take a small nibble. “Really tired, but hey, it could have been worse. I didn’t pass out this time. That has to count for something, right?”
Patrick facepalms where he stands at the edge of the room.
“What?”
“It does mean you’re getting stronger in your magic, but it still shouldn’t drain you this much. We’re still missing a piece to unlocking it completely.” He moves closer, finding his own place on the blanket. “I was using fire to fight the birds, and I’m still moving. You can’t keep going like this. It could burn your magic out.”
“So she wouldn’t be a witch?” asks Matt.
Patrick shakes his head, looking down at the floor. “No, she wouldn’t be a witch anymore if she burns out,” he answers quietly.
“That’s not the worst thing,” Josh says, squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll still be here for you, with or without your magic.”
“She won’t be a witch, because she won’t be alive,” Patrick says.
Silence reigns as we process this news.
“Well, damn,” I say. “That’s not good.”
“Not good at all,” Matt whispers.
“But there has to be another way, right?” asks Josh, looking between Patrick and me.
“We will think of something,” Patrick says. “Maybe I should reach out to the coven and see if any of our elders have an idea.”
“That could be a good idea.” I notice movement at the door. “The governess is back. I think she has something to say.”
I rise somewhat unsteadily to my feet. The guys stay put—not that they would hear what she has to say, anyway—and I make my way out of the warded room.
She turns and walks across the hall to the living room with me trailing in her wake. When we are almost in the kitchen, she spins around to face me.
“You are making good progress, Morrigan. You are living up to the O’Byrne name.” She raises her hand toward my cheek but stops short of touching me.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Does it feel different to you?”
“It does.” She nods. “There was a brief lull, but the curse is now calling stronger than before. It used to only really call to us if we got near the crypts. I kept the girls safe by convincing them that outside wasn’t safe and we could just play inside instead. Timmy wouldn’t go for it, but I think he’s helped you, so maybe it’s for the best.”
“Would Timmy be the young boy who was here when I woke up last time?”
“He is. He’s a good boy. He was the cook’s son and helped out wherever he could to earn extra money, but he was never one of my charges, so he decided the new rule didn’t apply to him. But before they brought you back in, I caught the girls almost at the back door.” She raises a translucent hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. “They were trying to go outside. They said they could hear other children playing and calling for them. They had to go. If I had been even thirty seconds later, they would have been trapped. I just know it.”