Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker #3)(119)

The extraordinary-looking pair of young people weren’t holding hands, but the way they tilted ever so subtly toward each other made it clear that they didn’t have to touch to feel the other. Even the air between them crackled with a kind of magnetism that had yet to be discovered by science, but that poets had been writing about since the dawn of time.

“We came here to offer you a position in a new city out west,” Rowan said. Lily and Rowan looked at each other and shared a secret smile.

“Rowan and I have our hands full in Salem, but this new city needs some restructuring. It could use an honest and . . . ah . . . persistent woman like you.” Lily frowned at the still-raised gun. “You know that doesn’t work on me.”

Simms lowered the gun a little, but she didn’t put it away. “How did you get in here?” she asked. Probably the dumbest question out of the thousands that she had for Lily Proctor, but it was the first one that came out of her mouth.

“I’m a witch, Reba. And so are you,” Lily replied.

Simms sat down at the kitchen table. She looked at her hands. They were thick, square things, not delicate like the soft, pale pair folded neatly in Lily’s lap. They were hands that had gotten things done. Hard things. They were shaking now.

“I was always different,” she said quietly. “Did I ever tell you that I used to get allergies?” She looked up at Lily, who shook her head once. “I did,” Simms continued. “I got teased a lot for it, too. Or maybe it was just the other kids sensing something off about me.”

Rowan waited to make sure Simms had finished before continuing. “This place we want to take you is far. You won’t be able to come back here.”

“Carrick explained some of it to me,” Simms said. Her mouth twisted around Carrick’s name like it was a curse word. “He said I was better suited to your world.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Lily said. “You’ve seen what I can do, and you’re still searching for a way to repeat it. That was my mistake.” Lily glanced down at her lap. “I had a teacher once—a shaman—who thought that the only way to fix a mistake he’d made was to send me back to my world, even after I’d seen his. But you can’t unfire a bullet. You’re a danger to this world now. You belong in ours.” Lily frowned and looked at Rowan. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever agreed with Carrick,” she said. The look they shared was more intimate than a kiss.

Simms couldn’t help but stare. She’d never had that. Oh, she’d had men chase her for reasons neither of them could understand, but it had never worked out. There had always been something they’d wanted from her that she couldn’t seem to give them. As the years passed it had been easier to not get involved. Better to live alone than go through the disappointment of not being enough and not getting enough back to ever feel satisfied.

“You won’t be able to come back here, not unless Lily sends you,” Rowan said clearly.

Simms snorted. “I have no husband, no kids, no family. I don’t even have a job anymore after what happened with you. All I have is three appointments a week with a psychiatrist. And I actually look forward to them.”

“You’re not crazy,” Lily said, her passion hushing her voice until it was barely above a whisper. “You’re not sick. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.” Lily smiled at her. “You are strong, Reba. Difficult to get along with,” she added with a smile, “but all the best witches are.”

Simms looked down at her hands again, and this time they were completely steady. “What would I have to do to go?” she asked.

Rowan stood and took a velvet jeweler’s envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “It will be difficult,” he told her. “But only for a few moments.”

“I can handle difficult,” Simms replied confidently.

Rowan nodded, as if he expected as much, and opened the envelope to reveal a collection of lead-colored rocks.

“Just one more thing before we get started,” Lily said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we could find that surfer, Miller, would you?”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


I’d like to thank Holly West and Jean Feiwel for their unswerving guidance and faith in this series. Working with you has been such a joy. To my stellar agent, Mollie Glick, I can only say wow. We did it while pregnant and breast-feeding and pumping. And on one memorable occasion we did it breast-feeding and pumping at the same time in a strange room with hospital equipment lying about because for some dumb reason we’re still trapped in the dark ages when it comes to offering mothers a place to breast-feed their children. (But I digress.) Mollie, you make it look easy, and I’m in awe of you. A million thanks to Morgan Dubin, Elizabeth Fithian, Caitlin Sweeny, Mary Van Akin, Angus Killick, and everyone else at Macmillan for making this series happen. I also have to thank Elizabeth Nelson, Kaitlin Huwe, and Lillian Lopez for all their help with Pia while I frantically tried to finish this book while caring for a new baby. To Robyn Shwer and Stephanie Aoki—you kept me sane while wacky hormones did their best to turn me into a crazy person. And, of course, all my love to Albert and Pia.