magic to calm down. It
had been at least ten years since she’d sparked with anyone around
to see, and she needed better control if it was going to be a
potential weapon.
She tried again to focus on the stranger. “What
do you mean I set off an alert?”
“I work for the Witch Sentinel System. It’s my
job to find kids with magic in this zone and check things out—make
sure you’re in a good situation. Juvie qualifies you for immediate
rescue. I can take you someplace better.”
He didn’t look like a dirty old man or a serial
killer, but she was well aware that evil came in many shapes. She
was incredibly lucky he hadn’t grabbed one of her kids instead.
“Kidnapping’s a felony. Swiping screwed-up kids earns you a special
place in hell.”
Jake just raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay
in lock-up?”
Romy could feel the sparks flaring again. She
tried desperately to tamp them down. Surely someone inside would
notice she was missing soon. “No one wants to stay in lock-up. I’d
have left with any guy who promised me a way out. How many girls
have you taken?”
She kept inching backward. A few feet more and
she just might risk blowing him up. People who preyed on kids got
no chances in her world.
She saw Jake’s temper fire up, and then abruptly
die. “I’m not taking you for any of those reasons you’re thinking.”
His voice was suddenly very gentle. “No kid your age should even
know about stuff like that.”
“I know plenty.” Her certainty was wavering.
She’d met a few girl-snatching perverts in her time, and he wasn’t
sticking to the script.
Jake just looked at her for a minute. “You don’t
have to come with me. Most kids want to, but you don’t have to come
right now. It’s tricky for me to talk with you in juvie, but I can
probably arrange to get on your visitor list.”
His quiet offer made her ache. As a teen, she’d
spent three years in lock-up without a single visitor.
“Who are you?” she asked again, backing off
slightly from thoughts of torching him.
“I’m Jake Hayes. I work for an organization that
tries to make sure young witches get to grow up in safety. Normally
we find you before your magic lands you in trouble, but this zone
hasn’t been very well staffed. I just got assigned a couple of
months ago, but I’m truly sorry for whatever you’ve been through. I
wish we could have gotten here sooner.”
No one had called Romy a witch in ten years, but
it was hard to deny when you still had occasional sparks flying out
of your fingertips. “What, you’re some kind of witch social
worker?”
He grimaced. “Guessing you’re not a fan of
social workers. I’m the monitor for this zone. When someone uses
magic and sets off the Sentinel alerts, they send me out to assess
the situation.”
“So far, that sounds like a social worker. Lots
of assessing, no action.”
Jake started laughing. “Really. You get busted
out of lock-up by social workers a lot?”
He had a point. “So you just drop in, grab a
kid, and run?”
“Not usually. Most kids are fine, and we just
keep eyes on them as they grow up. In some cases we put secondary
supports in place. A witch-positive teacher or neighbor.”
“Witch-positive?”
“Someone who’s had exposure to witches and can
help a kid adjust. If kids have a lot of power, or control issues,
we hook them up with a trainer.”
Romy was pretty sure her sparks were finally
under control, courtesy of long, lonely practice. No one had ever
offered her a trainer, a friend, or anything else. “So why’d you
grab me?”
Jake nodded toward the Youth Center. “We figure
it’s pretty much a given that no kid should live in juvie. Or a
mental ward—occasionally we find one there, too. We get you out,
find you a better situation. Usually we place kids with families
that have experience with magic.”
Her temper had always been her enemy. She spoke
with the quiet precision that made anyone who knew her well head
for cover.
had been at least ten years since she’d sparked with anyone around
to see, and she needed better control if it was going to be a
potential weapon.
She tried again to focus on the stranger. “What
do you mean I set off an alert?”
“I work for the Witch Sentinel System. It’s my
job to find kids with magic in this zone and check things out—make
sure you’re in a good situation. Juvie qualifies you for immediate
rescue. I can take you someplace better.”
He didn’t look like a dirty old man or a serial
killer, but she was well aware that evil came in many shapes. She
was incredibly lucky he hadn’t grabbed one of her kids instead.
“Kidnapping’s a felony. Swiping screwed-up kids earns you a special
place in hell.”
Jake just raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay
in lock-up?”
Romy could feel the sparks flaring again. She
tried desperately to tamp them down. Surely someone inside would
notice she was missing soon. “No one wants to stay in lock-up. I’d
have left with any guy who promised me a way out. How many girls
have you taken?”
She kept inching backward. A few feet more and
she just might risk blowing him up. People who preyed on kids got
no chances in her world.
She saw Jake’s temper fire up, and then abruptly
die. “I’m not taking you for any of those reasons you’re thinking.”
His voice was suddenly very gentle. “No kid your age should even
know about stuff like that.”
“I know plenty.” Her certainty was wavering.
She’d met a few girl-snatching perverts in her time, and he wasn’t
sticking to the script.
Jake just looked at her for a minute. “You don’t
have to come with me. Most kids want to, but you don’t have to come
right now. It’s tricky for me to talk with you in juvie, but I can
probably arrange to get on your visitor list.”
His quiet offer made her ache. As a teen, she’d
spent three years in lock-up without a single visitor.
“Who are you?” she asked again, backing off
slightly from thoughts of torching him.
“I’m Jake Hayes. I work for an organization that
tries to make sure young witches get to grow up in safety. Normally
we find you before your magic lands you in trouble, but this zone
hasn’t been very well staffed. I just got assigned a couple of
months ago, but I’m truly sorry for whatever you’ve been through. I
wish we could have gotten here sooner.”
No one had called Romy a witch in ten years, but
it was hard to deny when you still had occasional sparks flying out
of your fingertips. “What, you’re some kind of witch social
worker?”
He grimaced. “Guessing you’re not a fan of
social workers. I’m the monitor for this zone. When someone uses
magic and sets off the Sentinel alerts, they send me out to assess
the situation.”
“So far, that sounds like a social worker. Lots
of assessing, no action.”
Jake started laughing. “Really. You get busted
out of lock-up by social workers a lot?”
He had a point. “So you just drop in, grab a
kid, and run?”
“Not usually. Most kids are fine, and we just
keep eyes on them as they grow up. In some cases we put secondary
supports in place. A witch-positive teacher or neighbor.”
“Witch-positive?”
“Someone who’s had exposure to witches and can
help a kid adjust. If kids have a lot of power, or control issues,
we hook them up with a trainer.”
Romy was pretty sure her sparks were finally
under control, courtesy of long, lonely practice. No one had ever
offered her a trainer, a friend, or anything else. “So why’d you
grab me?”
Jake nodded toward the Youth Center. “We figure
it’s pretty much a given that no kid should live in juvie. Or a
mental ward—occasionally we find one there, too. We get you out,
find you a better situation. Usually we place kids with families
that have experience with magic.”
Her temper had always been her enemy. She spoke
with the quiet precision that made anyone who knew her well head
for cover.
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