Page 80 of Strike It Witch

“My story’s similar. Mom and I were born here. My grandmother was born in Mexicali and immigrated when she was a young woman.”

Joon and I strolled around the parts of the garden room I considered safe for visitors. “Whoa. It’s larger on the inside.” He opened the door to peek outside then came back in. “How did you accomplish that? Portal magic?”

“No. It’s just the way the earth bends for us,” I said. “Earth witches, I mean. Is it not the same for mages?”

“To be honest, I’m unsure. I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to find out.”

“Is your whole family traveling magicals?” I asked.

“They were. They’re all gone now. I am the sole magical heir of my family.” He looked wistful, and I realized that Joon was probably one of the few people who could truly understand my situation.

“You don’t feel like you have to keep moving? I mean, because your family was that way?” I asked.

“No. They’re gone. I’m here.” He smiled softly. “I want to settle somewhere, find a stopping place.”

“You make it sound nice.”

“I make it sound easier than it is,” he replied.

“Does Smokethorn feel like a stopping place to you?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I like your property. The garden room in particular is remarkable.” He glanced over his shoulder. “What about the cottage? Is it suitable for residential use?”

Ida had offered to give him the house tour as she’d done with the few magicals who’d been interested in the place over the last couple of years, but I’d already decided I was going to do it. It was past time. Three years of near-total avoidance was long enough.

“It’s been sitting empty for a little while, but it’s in great shape. Might be dusty. Desert dust gets everywhere.” I pulledMom’s key from my pants pocket with trembling hands. “But the electricity and water are on, and everything’s in working order.”

We took the long way to the front door so I could show Joon the exterior. I hadn’t been lying—the place was in great shape. I pointed out the paned windows, the crisp white paint, and the gray tiled roof. Detailed the three-bedroom, two-bath floor plan and informed him the house was 1300 square feet not counting the porch. I told him about the mosaic fireplace and the magnificent clawfoot tub in the master bath, and wondered if he could tell I was stalling.

If he noticed, he said nothing.

A too-short amount of time later, we stood in front of the house again. Joon bent down and rested one slim, long-fingered hand on the soil. A white light pulsed from his palm, and a section of dead grass instantly greened.

It likes him.

Something angry and unkind churned in my gut, nauseating me.

Jealousy.

“Hope that was okay. I’m asking the soil’s permission to enter,” the mage said without looking up. “I did this outside the park, before I picked up the stone you left for me, and it didn’t respond. It’s responding now.”

“That’s … good.”

He stood, dusted the dirt from his hands, and stepped onto the porch with me. “A porch swing. I haven’t seen one of these in ages.”

“It came with the house.” I tried to look at the swing without thinking of Mom curled up there with a glass of iced tea. It wasn’t easy. “I wouldn’t advise using it during the summer, but it’s nice to nap on in cooler months.”

“I like the dark blue door. Was it recently painted?”

“Fairly recent. It used to be red. Mom painted it blue five years ago or so.” My hands shook so badly I dropped the key twice before finally getting it in the lock.

Her body on the living room floor, eyes fixed and glassy…

Why didn’t you wait for me, Mom?

“You mentioned that your mother is deceased,” Joon said. “Did it happen here?”

My throat tightened with emotion. “Yes.”

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