Witches in Flight (43 page)

He knew her so very, very well.
 
And that wasn’t going anywhere.

She winked at Vero, feeling the aching weight tumbling off her
heart.
 
“Take him skinny-dipping in
the moonlight, would you?”
 
The
waters in Tahiti were glorious.

Vero’s laugh rang through the kitchen.
 
“I believe I will.”

Melvin’s pink cheeks delighted Jennie’s soul.

~ ~ ~

The darkroom was working its usual magic.
 
The Melvin-and-Vero-sized hole in her
heart might not be any smaller, but it was slowly getting easier to live with.

Jennie reached for the monster tray on her developing
table.
 
It was unusual for her to
work with large prints, but this one needed to be big to fill the designated
spot on Elsie’s wall.
 
The decorating
committee had been very specific—and the picture of Elsie, flying upside
down, hands stretched toward Elliot, screamed “woman who dares.”

Lizard might be less impressed to discover it was going to hang
beside a life-sized picture of her in purple and black, storming the microphone
at the Starry Plough the night “stupid” had died.
 
Photographic evidence of the original two dares, hanging
side by side—by Elsie’s decree.
 
One witch determined to remember all the steps of her journey.

Women Who Dare was exploding into existence—and an
exuberant Elsie was reveling in the energy being thrown her way.
 
She had decorators, recruiters, an army
of willing mentors, and gallon-sized “Silly” and “Daring” jars already filled
to the brim.

Melvin had called it Elsie’s incarnation of WitchLight.
 
A changed witch, carrying her light out
into the world.

Just as Jennie had done with her photographs so many years ago.

And Elsie wasn’t the only one carrying a light.
 
The shining happiness radiating from
Lizard and Josh had been practically blinding, even if you weren’t a mind
witch.

If you were a mind witch, it wasn’t the happiness that had
struck you hardest, however.
 
It
was the shiny, pie-in-the-sky hope that had taken up residence in Lizard’s
mind.

Hope was the hardest candle of all to relight.

Jennie’s camera had practically exploded trying to capture that
miracle on film.

She looked across to where those prints already hung on her
developing line.
 
It had been a
long night.
 

The picture on the end was going in the mail to Charlie as soon
as it was dry.
 
Josh, looking at
Lizard with how’d-I-get-this-lucky eyes—and one poet fairy with really
pink cheeks.
 

It was her small moment of revenge—Charlie hated gooey
pictures.
 
Or he usually did.
 
Even Charlie had a very soft spot for
these particular two lovebirds.

She glanced over at the envelope he’d left in the middle of her
darkroom—all the good-bye he’d felt a need to say before vanishing the
previous day.
 
So far, she’d
managed to avoid opening it.

And after breakfast this morning, she had a terrible suspicion
she knew why.
 

Time to get it over with.
 
Jennie dried off her hands and reached for the envelope, muttering
old-lady curses under her breath.
 
If there was a rocking chair inside, Charlie Tosh was going to need his
fourth Hasselbad.

What she saw as the picture slid out was even worse.

Eyes that knew it was her time to lead.

Damn.

~ ~ ~

Jennie looked around the table at her guests.
 
It was the kick-off meeting of the new
incarnation of WitchLight, even if they didn’t know it yet.

If she’d been planted in Vero and Melvin’s shoes, she was going
to do it right.
 
They deserved
Tahiti, even if she wasn’t ready for them to go.
 
And she had a unique team of women standing in those shoes
with her.

Nat and Lauren, sitting at one end of the table.
 
Wisdom beyond their years, and a
cemented friendship that would help them weather the less-fun moments that came
as you held hands with someone on a crooked journey.

Helga.
 
An addition
meant to send a message.
 
You
didn’t need to
be
a witch to
help
a witch.
 
If Natalia Sullivan was going to head
WitchLight one day, it was time to start adding those notes to their group
melody.
 
And Helga had proven
herself unusually adept at herding witches.
 
Magic was hardly necessary when you were a dead shot with a
water pistol.

And lastly, there was Caro, who hadn’t even blinked when Jennie
had dropped by to pick her up for lunch—with mind barriers dropped enough
to warn Caro what saying “yes” would mean.
 

Getting maudlin, are you?
 
Caro’s no-nonsense voice broke into her thoughts.
 
You need help.
 
We can be useful.
 
I don’t think it’s a lot more
complicated than that.

It was about helping lost witches find their way.
 
That could get plenty complicated.

Caro grinned and reached for the breadbasket.
 
You should take up knitting.
 
You can make a lot of complicated
things one simple stitch at a time.

It wasn’t a bad mantra.

Helga elbowed Nat.
 
“Do they do this all the time?”

Nat chuckled.
 
“Yup.
 
They think we can’t
tell.”

“Pfft.”
 
Helga
rolled her eyes and took the breadbasket from Caro.
 
“Are you two just going to keep mindtalking, or are you
going to share with the group?”

Jennie figured it was probably fitting that she start her first
official WitchLight meeting feeling like a student caught passing notes.
 
If there was one thing she’d learned
from Melvin, it was the importance of humility.
 
“Melvin and Vero send their goodbyes.
 
They’ve gone to Tahiti.”

“Mmm.”
 
Helga’s eyes
got all hazy.
 
“I went skinny-dipping
in Tahiti once.”

Nat grinned.
 
“One
day I want to grow up to be you.”

She wasn’t the only one.
 

Lauren had her negotiator face on.
 
“How long will they be gone?”

“As long as they feel like.”
 
Jennie took a deep breath.
 
“They’ve retired and left me in charge of WitchLight.”

Lauren snorted.
 
“You’ve been in charge for weeks now.”
 
Heads nodded up and down the table.

Jennie blinked and wondered how she’d been so slow.
 
“You’ve all been involved for
weeks.
 
I don’t know that this
really changes anything.”
 
That’s
not how it felt, but maybe she was the only one who felt like the map of the
world had suddenly been redrawn.

“It doesn’t change the core of what we do,” said Nat
softly.
 
“But it might change how
we do it.”
 
She looked around the
table.
 
“It’s already changed by
who sits here.”

Caro chuckled.
 
“You’re the next thing to a witch, girl.
 
I know that husband of yours swears you don’t have magic,
but I’m not sure I believe him.”

“Well, I’m no witch.”
 
Helga grinned.
 
“Not that I
wouldn’t mind shooting fire out my fingertips or something.”

Jennie wasn’t sure the world could handle Helga with fire
powers.
 
“We help witches.
 
We can do that with magic—or with
knitting needles and wisdom.”

“Well, I have one of those, at least.”
 
Helga’s eyes gleamed.
 
“And this explains the water pistol I got in the mail this morning.”

Good grief.
 
Even in
retirement, Melvin was still three steps ahead of her.

I hope
Witches In Flight
was
a good read.
 
If you have a moment,
please help others enjoy this book, too.

Lend it.
 
This e-book is lending-enabled, so
please, share it with a friend.

Review it.
 
Help other readers choose what to
read—tell them why you liked this book.
 
If you do write a review, please send me an email at
[email protected]
.
 
I’d like to gift you a copy of my next
book as a small way of saying thanks.

Want the next book in the trilogy?
 
Visit
www.deborageary.com
to sign up for my New Releases email list.