"But… you're a witch," he murmured. "Couldn't you see?"
She shook her head. "Not for myself. The crystal doesn't allow that. It's why I didn't know you were still here."
"You shouldn't have doubted," he told her gently, regret rising in his chest for all the lost time. Time.
He caught her hand in his and dipped his free hand into his pocket. Pulling out the tiny gold watch she'd given him so long ago, he studied it for a long moment, then placed it in her palm.
She sniffed and smiled. "Oh, Elias, you kept it all these years?"
Elias curled her fingers over the watch, then kissed the inside of her wrist. Looking at her again, he murmured. "Five years or fifty. Eudora. You should have known I'd be waiting."
"Oh, my love," she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek, "I've missed you so."
"And I, you," he said, bending his head for the kiss he'd dreamed of claiming. Softly, sweetly, their lips met in a silent promise of a future they could finally share.
Jonas stared at the two older people, so oblivious of their audience. Shifting his gaze from Hannah to the couple and back again, he was only slightly relieved to see that she was as confused as he.
Destiny, he thought. Fate. Words Hannah used with regularity. Was it possible that all of this had been set into motion by some Master Planner? Were Eudora and Elias meant to bring him and Hannah together all along?
A headache roared into life behind his eyes. Jonas looked from Hannah to her aunt, studying the two women as that sense of… wrongness reared up inside him again.
What is it? he wondered as a small kernel of suspicion took root within him and blossomed. Wrong. Something… Narrowing his gaze until his vision was slightly out of focus. Jonas stared at the tall older woman, concentrating on her alone.
Then he saw it.
A light. Surrounding Eudora, the pale, iridescent glow seemed to shine from deep within her and halo around her body like a child's outlined drawing. Jonas's pulse rate jumped as he studied the sparkling color that defined her form. Like dust motes caught in a sunbeam, showers of tiny sparks enveloped her, moving with her, shining like the sun glancing off new snow.
Magic.
Instinctively, he knew that was what he was looking at. The proof that Eudora was a witch. The magic was a part of her. In her bones, her heart, and soul.
He looked at Elias, still holding Eudora close. There was no light… no color around the man. No sense of magic there at all.
Jonas's breath caught, and briefly he lifted his own hands in front of his still-out-of-focus gaze. "Damn," he whispered.
The magic was surrounding him.
A sparkle of light, shining softly in outline around his palms and fingers. Another shallow breath shuddered through him as he turned his hands this way and that, watching the light play and dance, but never leave him.
More than any words he'd heard—more than any speeches about duty and what his heritage really meant  this pale, shimmering light struck him to his soul. Witchcraft wasn't something he could pick up or put down. It was him. In him. With him. A part of him that he would never be free of.
Something inside him shifted, opened, and allowed a light to enter where before there had only been darkness. And for that one brief moment, Jonas felt the power of his ancestors roaring through him. For one split second, he thought he saw the shades of his parents smiling at him.
Then the world righted itself and he was once again, standing in his kitchen. Still a bit shaken, he let his hands fall to his sides as he looked at Elias and Eudora, still celebrating their reunion. Slowly, Jonas turned his gaze on Hannah, already anticipating her reaction when he told her about what he'd seen.
She'd been right all along. And maybe, he thought with a small surge of hope, maybe she was right about the two of them, as well. Perhaps they were meant to be together.
Her wide, green eyes shone with happiness. Her smile dazzled him to the soles of his feet. Smiling himself, he let his gaze shift out of focus again, wanting to see the sparkle of light that defined her. He stared at her for a long minute. Then another. His smile faded. Now he knew what had struck him as being wrong. His heartbeat staggered. He looked again. Harder this time, straining to see what he now knew wasn't there.
This was what he'd sensed was wrong.
It was Hannah, blast her.
Fresh betrayal slapped at him. He'd believed her. Trusted her. Hell, he'd come damn close to admitting he loved her.
For what?
More lies?
Hannah frowned as Jonas's smile faded. What could be wrong now? Couldn't he be happy for Elias and Eudora? Couldn't he feel the love swirling through the room? How could he not be affected by something as tender and touching as the scene unfolding now in front of them?
He was looking at her as if he didn't even know her.
Flicking a quick glance at the happy couple, Hannah turned back to him. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
He snorted a laugh at her, his icy blue eyes as frosty as a lake in midwinter. At the harsh sound. Elias and Eudora both turned to look at him.
"You ought to be on the stage. Hannah," he said, glaring at her. "You're so damn convincing, you'd be a real success as a professional liar."
"What?" Whatever she'd expected, it hadn't been this.
"How many more lies are there?" He shrugged his shoulders and his mouth turned up in a mocking smile. "Just make a guess if you're not sure."
"What are you talking about?" She forgot all about Eudora and Elias and took a step toward Jonas.
"That's one," he said shortly. "You know damn well what I'm talking about."
"I don't," she said, her voice rising slightly. "I swear I don't."
"Another lie," he snapped. "This magic horseshit." He paused and added sarcastically, "Oh, excuse me, ladies… it all goes hand in hand with lies, doesn't it?"
"Here, now!" Elias said.
"Jonas –" Hannah started, but was cut off.
"Sure it does!" He answered his own question, then went on. "Magic is making somebody see something that isn't there, right? It's making something out of nothing." He threw his hands wide and let them fall to his sides again. "It's lies. Something you're damn good at."
It was his voice, more than his words, that slashed at her. The banked fury in his tone and the remote gleam in his eyes made her cold down to her toes.
"Damn you, Hannah!" he shouted. He took a half step toward her before he stopped himself. "You came all the way here to force me to remember a past I wanted to keep buried. You tossed my life upside down, destroyed the first chance at peace I've known in ten years, convinced me to love you, and you're not even a witch!"
A bright flash of lightning skittered across the sky, gilding the windowpanes with an eerie, momentary brightness. An instant later, a roll of thunder crashed down around them, rattling the crockery in the cupboards.
"What?" she said on an outraged gasp. She couldn't even take a moment to enjoy the fact that he'd admitted to loving her. Not when he was spouting such utter nonsense, too.
"You heard me, damn it!" he shouted over another clap of thunder.
"Of course I'm a witch," she argued hotly, while a part of her mind tried to understand why he was doing this.
"What are you sayin'?" Elias demanded, but no one answered.
"No, you're not," Jonas went on, his voice dropping to a low, furious growl. "I can see the magic in a witch. I see it in her," he jerked a thumb at Eudora. "Hell, I see it in me. But when I look at you," he finished, "all I see is a liar."
"You're wrong," Hannah whispered, her voice tearing from her throat. "I'm a Lowell. A witch. Ask anyone back home."
Jonas snapped a glance at Eudora and Hannah watched her aunt's face pale slightly.
"Tell him. Eudora," she said and heard the thread of panic in her own voice. "Tell him he's wrong."
But the tall older woman only looked at them both through eyes glimmering with sorrow. She held tight to Elias, her arms around his thick waist, burrowing close for his support.
Jonas wasn't moved. He wouldn't be fooled again. Not by Hannah. And not by her aunt, either, damn it.
He studied Hannah again, just to be sure in his own mind. But there was no change. No halo of light enveloped her. Not the smallest spark shimmered in the air around her.
'There's no magic in you," he said flatly. "So just who the hell are you and why are you here at all?"
* * *
"Adopted?" Hannah's voice sounded oddly hollow, but she couldn't seem to help it.
She'd expected Eudora to set Jonas straight. To tell them all that Hannah was a Lowell. The last in a long, illustrious line of witches. Her lungs trembled with the heavy task of drawing air. Her heartbeat thudded painfully in her chest. Her throat closed around a knot of regret, disillusionment, and fear.
Adopted?
So not only wasn't she a witch… but she also wasn't the woman she'd always thought herself to be. The ancestors of whom she'd been so proud weren't hers anymore. Her family ties were being snipped neatly, leaving her floating free, uprooted. Unbound to anyone or anything.
Oh, God…
Breathe, Hannah, she told herself, breathe. She looked around the table at the faces of the three people watching her. Elias, his features twisted into a mask of concern even as he kept a tight grip on Eudora's hand, as though he were afraid she'd slip away from him again. And Eudora, eyes rimmed with tears and glittering with trepidation. Finally Jonas, his expression neutral. Unreadable.
They were all waiting for her to say something. But what could she say? Her mind worked frantically and came up empty. Dear God, she prayed silently, please give me the words I need.
"You two want to be alone to talk about this?" Elias asked, clearly reluctant to go.
"No." The word shot from Hannah's throat. She looked from him to Jonas. "Stay. Both of you."
"You sure about this, missy?" Elias asked.
She wasn't very sure about anything at the moment, but she felt this was the right thing to do. After all, she'd ruined Jonas's life. It was only fair that he witness the crumbling of hers.
"Yes," she said, her gaze locking briefly with Jonas's. "There've been enough lies and secrets."
"Oh, Hannah," Eudora said, her eyes shadowed with pain, "you have to understand, dear."
She was trying.
Oh, Lord, she was trying. But how could she understand having her identity shattered? Her world torn apart? And suddenly, she found a new and much deeper sympathy for Jonas over what she had done to his life simply by showing up and insisting he accept her truth.
Oh, Jonas, Hannah thought. I'm so sorry.
She'd been so sure of herself. So completely confident that she was doing the right thing. She truly hadn't realized how horrifying it was to lose everything familiar. To suddenly have nothing you could call your own.
Hannah groaned inwardly and turned her head toward Eudora when the older woman started speaking.
"Your parents wanted children so badly that when none came, they went in search of a child to call their own." A half smile touched the woman's lips as she used her free hand to wipe away a stray tear. "They found you, in an orphanage in New York."
"New York." And she'd been told that she was born in Boston while her parents were on a trip. A small lie, she knew, in comparison to the full glaring truth. Yet it was one more chip taken from the solid base on which she'd built her life.
This couldn't be happening.
Hepzibah strolled into the kitchen, sniffed at Eudora's feet, then took a flying leap to land in Hannah's lap. At least she still had this. This one small cat didn't know or care if she was a witch or a Lowell.
Tears filled her eyes and she dipped her head to hide them from the others. She held the little animal close, her fingers smoothing the cat‘s lush white hair. When Hepzibah purred, Hannah was grateful. At least there was one thing in life that she could still count on.
"They loved you so much, Hannah," Eudora was saying, and she really tried to concentrate. But it was so hard. So hard to think, when all she wanted to do was run away screaming.
"No one in Creekford knows the truth," her aunt said quietly.
Oh, she believed that. If anyone had known she was adopted, Hannah would have heard about it long before now. No one in Creekford could keep a secret long. And a secret this big would have been impossible to hide.
She glanced up at Jonas and wished she could read the emotions glittering in his eyes. Wished he would say something. Did he still think she'd come here to trick him somehow? Did he still think her love for him had been one of the lies cloaking them?
Eudora cleared her throat and Hannah looked at the woman who'd raised her.
"When your parents died in that carriage accident," she said, "I saw no reason to tell you the truth." A new sheen of tears filled her blue eyes. "You were already in so much pain… what purpose would it have served? You were so young, Hannah, and I loved you so much."
The truth would have prevented this hideously painful moment, she thought, absently scratching behind Hepzibah's ears.
Jonas was right. Hannah told herself. There were too many lies. One seemed piled on top of another and when they started to fall it became a rockslide, wiping out everything and everyone in its path.
And yet, a part of her wished desperately that this one particular lie had never been revealed. A lie was a comforting thing, when the truth was a devastating blow.
Eudora stared at her, sympathy and a plea for forgiveness shining in her pale blue eyes. Hannah knew she should say something. She only wondered if her voice would work.
"How…" she started, and stopped again. "Why…"
"What, dear?" her aunt prompted gently.
Hannah laughed shortly under her breath and was grateful the laughter didn't escalate into the hysteria she felt bubbling in her chest. Before, she couldn't speak at all. Now there were too many questions trying to pop out at once.
Taking a long, deep breath, she tried again. "If Jonas could look at me and tell I'm not a witch, why didn't anyone at home see the truth?"