A Lost Witch (A Modern Witch Series: Book 7) Read Online Free Page B

toward them was about as far away from the stereotypical psychiatrist as she could imagine.  Jeans, ponytail, and a long tattoo of graceful Japanese characters making its way up the arm he held out in welcome.
    He grinned, apparently well aware that he made a surprising first impression.  “You must be Lauren.  I’m Max Torres, assistant director here.”
    “Someone finally got smart and promoted you, did they?”  Tab leaned in and gave him an easy hug.
    Lauren had long since stopped being surprised by the number of people in California Tabitha had adopted.  That kind of rapport could only help with their reconnaissance mission.   She was, however, impressed by the staunch respect flowing from Max’s mind—clearly he was one of the few who didn’t fall for Tab’s grandma act.
    He shrugged.  “No one else wanted the job.”
    “There are always people who want power.”  Tabitha patted his arm.  “You spent a lot of years refusing to take it.”
    “Getting smarter in my old age.”
    The guy looked all of thirty-five, but Lauren knew better than to underestimate a guy in jeans and a casual grin.
    Tabitha touched the petals of a particularly fragrant rose bush.  “We came to talk with you about Hannah Kendrick.”
    Lauren was ready for the psychiatrist’s surprise, and his wariness.  But she hadn’t expected the deep personal sadness flowing out of his mind.  His patient, then.
    That could help—or it could make their job so much more difficult.
    -o0o-
    A pre-dawn war council on busting a witch out of a mental institution, followed by a morning spent helping Marcus Buchanan water wedding daffodils.  Total toss-up over which one was weirder.
    Jamie plunked down on the couch beside his wife, soaking in her serenity.  He hated waiting—the daffodils had been a welcome distraction.  “Where’s Kenna?”
    “Hanging out with Uncle Devin.  Making hissy fire.”
    He didn’t have the energy to roll his eyes.  Only his brother and a toddler would have come up with a game that involved throwing fire sparks and rainbow water droplets at each other just to hear them get mad.  “Dev has to clean up the mess.”  It wasn’t a neat game, especially if they attracted spectators.  Kenna’s idea of small magic was a work in progress.
    “It’s keeping him occupied.”  Nat’s face was smiling, but her eyes held a heavy dose of worry.
    Damn.  He reached out and touched her cheek.  “Lauren and Tab are the best there is.”  Tabitha had wangled an appointment at Chrysalis House about three minutes after the world woke up.  Something about an old student—a rebel with a good heart.
    Jamie hoped like hell the rebel had connections.
    Nat covered his hand with hers.  “How are you doing?”
    To her, he could say the truth.  Always.  “Shaky as hell, and no idea why.”  Witch Central dealt with emergencies all the time.  This one was bad, but it shouldn’t be unhinging him like this.  “I feel like someone’s dragging their fingernails down a chalkboard just inside my left ear.”
    She winced.  “That’s descriptive.”
    He could hear the chalkboard sound manifesting in her head.  Oops.  “Sorry.”  He pushed Kenna’s new favorite Dr. Wiggles song at her instead.  If you had to have an earworm, Bop-Bop-Igglety-Snop had to be better than chalk torture.
    Nat giggled and stuck out her tongue.  “Thanks, I think.”
    “Always glad to help.”  It was helping him find solid ground too—immaturity usually did.
    “Glad to see parenthood is helping you grow up,” said a dry voice from the corner.
    Jamie was almost used to people transporting into his living room these days.  “Hi, Mom.”  He eyed the woman dressed in lime green with a hot pink flower in her hair.  “You had an awful lot of kids.  That must be why you’re all staid and boring now.”
    “Bite your tongue.”  Retha leaned down to kiss Nat’s cheek.  “Bless you for tolerating my most obnoxious