Page 13 of Witch Moon

Biting her lower lip, Rowan got to her feet, paced to the middle of the room, and turned to face Mirabella. "You shouted that warning before the truck ever came into sight. You knew it was coming."

Lowering her head, Bella closed her eyes at the pealing of the warning bells in her mind. "How do you know I didn't just hear the truck coming?"

"Because I didn't hear it."

"You had your headphones on."

"I yanked them off. There was no sound-not until a second or two later."

Bella shook her head slowly and got to her feet. She didn't mention the woman she'd seen pointing frantically, because when she'd looked around for her in the moments after the near miss-she hadn't seen her. And she knew damn well that was because the woman wasn't someone physical. She was a spirit.

Bella said none of this to Rowan. Instead, she said. "Come with me. We need tea."

Rowan followed her into the kitchen, where Bella put on a kettle of water, and dug two antique metal tea balls from a drawer. She opened her cupboard, on rows of glass jars, each containing herbs most of which either she or Gwyneth had grown, dried, and ground themselves. As she dipped from one of the jars, she said, "This is my special, calming blend. Chamomile, valerian, a bit of lavender." She measured tea into each tea ball, then dropped them into a pair of china cups, leaving their chains dangling over the sides. Rowan took a seat at the small round table.

"So you think I sensed that truck coming before I could see or hear it?" Mirabella asked.

"Yes. I know you did."

"And that makes you think I might be a Witch?"

Rowan shook her head. "More than just that. I saw you coming out of that shop.Gwenyth 's Chamber. And you bought stuff in there. It was in your briefcase."

"I like herbs. I make homemade teas. Does that make me a Witch then?" She was stalling, really. Fishing. She knew too well that Rowan was the girl in her dream. And she was scared to death of the idea that the child could die because of something Bella might teach her. Apparently, something about Witchcraft. She had to be extremely careful what she said to this child.

She heard the water start to boil and poured it into the cups. Then she carried them to the table, went to the fridge for cream, set out the sugar, and finally sat down and moved the tea ball by its chain in slow circles in the cup, to calm her nerves.

"Rowan, why don't we chalk it up to women's intuition and call it good, hmm?" She sipped again. "After all, why should it matter what I am?" She took a sip of her tea, but it was still weak.

"Because I need to know what I am. Am I a Witch, Miss Saint A? Is there any way to tell?"

The tea sort of gushed backward up Bella's windpipe and out her nose.

Now that she'd started, though. Rowan rushed right on, speaking faster with every sentence and barely pausing for a breath in between. "The other day, someone called me a name in the hall at school, and I turned around, really angry, and when I did, the posters fell off the walls. All the way up the hall from where I was standing to where the other person was. It was a good ten feet. And I knew it was that rush of anger that knocked them all down. It was like I could feel it surging out of me, you know. And then last night, my dad got on my case for some stupid thing or other, and I went up to my room, spun around to slam the door, only it slammed itself, before I ever touched it." She set her tea down, got to her feet, and paced the room. "Miss Saint A, stuff like that happens to me all the time. More than just what could be coincidence or explained away. More than I can understand. Dad says it's all in my head, and to tell you the truth I was beginning to wonder if he was right. But then my mother started coming to me...in my dreams. And it's like she's trying to tell me something, and I don't know what it is, and-"

Tears seemed to choke her. They welled up in her eyes, and her voice got tighter until it tightened into silence.

Bella got up and went to her, clasped her shoulders, and looked right into her ocean blue eyes. "You'renotcrazy. There's nothing wrong or even all that unusual about what's happening to you, Rowan."

Rowan sniffled and brushed at her eyes. "Really?"

"I promise. I...." Mirabella closed her eyes, bit her lip. Hell, she was risking her job and Jonathon's anger by even saying a little. But the girl was in pain. What choice did she have? Could she really just bite her tongue and watch this incredible young woman suffer?

No. She couldn't.

So she chose her words carefully. "I believe we all have more than the five senses we acknowledge. A lot of other people believe it too. Doctors, scientists, world leaders."

Blinking, searching her eyes. Rowan said, "What kinds of senses?"

Bella shrugged. "Oh, psychism or telekinesis. Picking up on thoughts. Causing physical movement by the power of will and emotion. And there are lots of other extra senses we have too. Precognition...."

"Like when I reach for the phone before it rings, and already know who's on the other end. Or hum a song and turn on the radio and hear it playing?"

"Yes. Just like that. It's pretty widely accepted by those who study such things, that there are two times in life when these...other senses...are naturally strongest. One is when we're very young. Babies, toddlers. Before society has convinced us that such things don't exist. And the other time, is during puberty. Particularly in girls."

The relief that flooded Rowan's face made Mirabella know it was worth the risk. She'd said very little. And somehow, she had given Rowan something she'd desperately needed; validation, assurance that she wasn't losing her mind.

"You're not just saying this to make me feel better?"

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