Page 82 of Tricky Magic
“Welcome to Glenover, Ellea,” Ned said sincerely. He grabbed her hand gently, and his cloudy eyes looked into hers. “We are truly happy to have you here, and we can’t wait to hear what you and Rosier get up to.”
“Ned!” his wife scolded.
Ellea actually laughed. “I’m sorry, but you sound like you like Ros? I thought only Sam and Devon put up with him.”
Claire laughed. “Oh girl, we just let him think that.”
“Such a big, scary man,” Ned mocked, puffing his chest, and then laughed with his wife.
They said their goodbyes and headed into one of the shops nearby. Ellea turned toward Devon with wide eyes. “Well…”
“Well, nothing,” he scolded. “People aren’t out to get you.”
“I just don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head.
“This isn’t your typical witch community. It’s asupernaturalcommunity,” he said, grabbing her gently. “No one is here to judge you, and we have worse things than big, scary Ros and little tricksters that fake paying at a bar, and then make a wolven think his hands were ripped off.”
Ellea’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth popped open.
“Yeah, Ellea,” he scolded her again. “Let’s go get you coffee and make you meet enough people to forget the evil witches back home.”
* * *
The restof their time in town was the same. They grabbed coffee and walked down each street, visiting various shops and historic sites. Devon had introduced her to about twenty people, all of various species and ages. All of them had greeted her the same: warm, excited, and a little forward. Every single one of them was eager to learn more about her, or her and Ros. It had barely been a week. She didn’t even know what she and Ros were.
Devon had explained how he’d practiced all sorts of magic outside of what he was born with. It was crazy to hear how he’d traveled to so many parts of the world, learning what he could and realizing the way they were typically raised wasn’t the norm.
Ellea sighed as they pulled into Ag’s parking lot. There was still so much she needed to understand. The store sat on the edge of town, closer to Ellea and Ros’ area. There were a few quaint restaurants nearby, and Ellea’s stomach growled at the thought of going to one of them. The chocolate pastry she’d had earlier was not enough of a lunch. Devon put the SUV in park and turned toward her.
“How bad was it?” he asked.
“Not as bad as I thought.” She sighed. “You were right.”
“I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly. “How bad was it back home?”
Ellea groaned. “Do you really want to know?”
“I would like to,” he said. “If we’re going to work together and continue to be the best of friends, I need to know your boundaries and what you’ve dealt with.”
Ellea didn’t know where to start or how much to tell him. She had spent most of her life shutting it out. She wasn’t really up for bringing it back up again.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said, seeming to read her mind.
“I want to work through things,” she began. “But I’ve spent my whole life shutting it down, so it’s hard to bring it back up.”
“Start from the beginning,” he said gently.
“Okay.” She turned toward him and twisted her hands in her lap. “After my parents ‘left,’ I was prone to...outbursts. It got so bad that my nana pulled me out of school and hired tutors, but it wasn’t soon enough. The other children remembered what happened, and so did their parents.
“If we were out at parties or shopping and we ran into another witch, they would hide their children or whisper about me. My nana thought I didn’t notice, but I did.”
“But most young witches are prone to uncontrolled magic,” Devon interrupted.
“Did they cause buildings to explode and a hoard of angry rats, bugs, and snakes to attack a group of mean girls?” His eyes got wide, and she took a steadying breath. She hadn’t told the next part to anyone outside of her nana and uncle, who already knew—and Billy, of course.
“My mother and father experimented with my magic as early as three.” Devon’s face paled. “I was able to summon illusions at the age of five, and by the time my nana and uncle got me, I could do worse.”
“I’m so sorry,” Devon said, reaching over to grasp her hand.
