The Witch Collector Part I by Loretta Nyhan Page A

explained anything to her. I wasn’t much help. I don’t know much about this.”
    Dobra sighed. “An unmarked witch has the potential to hold every power in our world. You don’t have any natural gifts of your own, but you are a collector. Every time you witness a witch performing magic, you have the ability to . . . pick up the gift.”
    No , I thought. No . I had nothing of my own, so I had to take others’ gifts? Steal them? I’d spent so much time dreaming about which gift I’d inherit: my mom’s or my dad’s. I’d weighed the pros and cons, worried about hurt feelings, imagined one and then the other teaching me to perfect my magic. Now both gifts were mine, but not because I’d inherited them—because I took them. It was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. “Are you sure?” I said, embarrassed by the desperation in my voice.
    Dobra gave me a pitying look. “At the beginning of the transition, a witch will get sick after performing magic. It’s the body’s natural response to the change. An unmarked witch will also get sick every time she takes another’s gift. Is this happening to you?”
    I nodded, slowly letting it sink in that he knew what he was talking about. “When I take someone’s gift . . . do they know?”
    â€œMost of the time, a witch wouldn’t notice,” Dobra said, frowning. “But some say the unmarked steal a bit of each gift when it happens, that they somehow weaken the witch ever so slightly.”
    I looked over at Miro, guilty. That’s why I could lift the restaurant menu? Because I’d taken his gift?
    â€œDon’t be crazy,” Miro said, bristling. “You didn’t steal anything from me. I feel exactly the same.”
    I knew I should keep asking Dobra questions, to learn more, but I couldn’t. How could what Dobra had told me be true? No one ever treated me any differently. Why didn’t my parents tell me? Then there was Gavin. Was he after me because I was unmarked? If other witches distrusted the unmarked, wouldn’t he be glad I was gone?
    Then my thoughts all melted away but one: there was the possibility that Brandon knew. He was so weird and vague before he left for Seaside. Was he pulling away from me or had he wanted to say something about my status, and been told not to? The possible answers to those questions made my heart hurt.
    Dobra cleared his throat. “I’ll call around and see if I can find a place for you.”
    â€œNo,” Miro said, watching my face. “Not yet.” He glanced nervously at his father. It was the first time I’d ever seen him unsure of himself.
    The air in the room stilled to a silent standoff.
    â€œFine,” Dobra finally said. “I will consider allowing it. You can stay until breakfast.” He left the room without another word to either Miro or me.
    I swung my feet to the floor and hoisted my backpack to the bed. I needed their help—and I needed a quiet place to think—but I didn’t want to get between father and son. “Look, I should probably head back to the apartment anyway. What if someone tries to contact me there? Or, hey, you never know. What if, miraculously, my parents show up?”
    Miro said nothing. He only watched as I searched for my ballet flats.
    â€œStop,” he said as I shoved my foot into the first shoe. “It’s not safe. You’ll sleep here. Vadim will swing by the apartment in case someone tried to make contact. No one’s going to try anything with him.”
    â€œWhat about the bewitched demon?”
    A shadow crossed Miro’s features. “Would you believe Vadim’s been up against worse? He came out in one piece.”
    I wanted to know what could possibly be worse than a demon, but I’d save that question for later. “And what happens when your father finds out?”
    â€œI’ll take