Page 23 of With This Witch
“I don’t know. But I sense that he has gained followers with the Wilkses and is going to try and use their influence in the community to push against you as the new Premier Witch so he can have a guaranteed vote on the issues he wants put through council. How he will accomplish this, I am not sure, but unfortunately, I think he’s going to do his best to remove the Roses from power,” Gammy replies, years of battle suddenly visible in every wrinkle of her expression.
At least now Petra understands why Grog has been so insufferable and why it feels like he has been personally attacking her. “So what do you think I should do?” Petra asks. She feels the heavy weight of all of these years of resentment settling on her shoulders.
“To start, make sure you meet his conditions for becoming the next Premier Witch.”
“And then?”
“And then? Then you show him who he messed with, my dear,” Gammy says, fire lighting her eyes. “Now. About why I came today. This marriage to Lachlan, are you certain?”
Gammy looks at Petra, concern written all over her face. She leans over and grasps Petra’s hands. “My darling girl. We can find another way if you don’t want to do this. We can look again for a loophole in the agreement. We can create a clone. Goddess, we could blow up the council if that is what it takes.” Petra smiles at that. She certainly would have liked to do that to Grog last night. “Tell me what you want, and I will use all my power to help you make it happen.”
Petra can feel tears welling up. “Oh, Gammy. I love you. I know you would move heaven and the underworld to help me. The problem is that I don’t know what I want.”
“I know. But maybe this is what you are meant to do. Maybe this is all for some greater reason that only the Goddess knows.”
“Maybe,” Petra responds. She pauses and gathers the courage to admit the next part. Barely above a whisper, Petra voices her greatest fear. “Maybe… maybe… I’m not good enough.”
“Hades and Hecate!” Gammy exclaims. “What gives you that idea?”
Petra doesn’t answer.
“You are aRose. You have more power in your pinky nail than any other witch your age. While yes, you haven’t traveled the depth of that well of power yet, that does not mean you are not capable and worthy of the title,” Gammy insists.
Petra remains silent, feeling tightness in her chest as the negative thoughts from earlier reemerge. Gammy was made for Premier Witch. How could she understand how inadequate Petra felt?
Gammy stands up and moves over to sit at the end of the coffee table directly in front of Petra. She grasps Petra’s chin firmly and makes her look her in the eye. “You, Petra, are no mere garden gnome. You are a powerful witch who can do whatever she wishes. You come from a legacy and a Leeside founding family. You are my granddaughter, and my granddaughter is worthy.”
Petra’s lips quaver. “What if I don’t want to be worthy?”
“Well, it’s a little late for that. You have always been worthy, even if you choose not to accept the Premier Witch title. But there is power in your blood. You will need to reckon with that someday.” Gammy lets go of Petra’s chin and stands up. She collects her purse and coat from the kitchen counter and walks to the door. She places her hand on the doorknob and turns back to Petra, still curled up on the chair. “While I will support any decision you make, I will not sit here and watch as you wallow in self-pity because you can’t process your privilege. It is an honor to be a Rose and an honor to be even considered for the Premier Witch. Let me know your decision and if you wish to move forward with the wedding by the end of the week.” She shuts the door firmly behind her.
Petra buries her face in her hands and weeps. As she does so, she feels her shield add another layer. Another brick in place to keep herself safe. Another wall to shelter her from the world trying to decide her life for her.
She flicks her wrist again, and everything that flew back into place returns to the heaps and piles they were when Gammy first arrived. This suits her. The chaos, the destruction, the lack of order. She’s always felt out of place in this supernatural world, so it only makes sense that she feels comfortable when things around her match that.
She doesn’t belong here, and the community will never accept her as the Premier Witch. Maybe Sloan and Francesca were right after all.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Lachlan
It’s been a few days since the night at the Wilks Estate and just as long since he’s seen or talked to Petra. He’s thought about texting or stopping to check on her, but he keeps convincing himself not to. The other day, he received a call from Gladys, which he has yet to return. It’s never a good thing when she calls, and he’d rather someone else deal with whatever problem she’s got right now. At that thought, he hears a loud clang behind him and whips around.
What the hell?
Standing there as if he summoned her, is the Premier Witch herself.
“Good afternoon, Lachlan,” she says, smiling in a way that hints at trouble.
Lachlan reaches up, runs a hand through his hair, and rests it on the back of his neck, trying to pass off the fact that she actually startled him. “Nice of you to… pop in. To what do I owe this pleasure, Gladys?”
“My granddaughter.”
“Petra sent you? I didn’t realize we were using messengers these days.”
“No, she didn’t send me. I am concerned about her and our quickly depleting timeline,” Gladys informs him, picking up a dusty trinket on the desk beside her.
Lachlan’s eyes flared wide, giving away his surprise.
