Frog Hollow (Witches of Sanctuary Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

Grady Bradshaw.”
    “And the other girl?”
    “Miss free love and peace? That’s our Sadie.”
    I look at the black-haired girl again, and this time I see the frown. “She looks upset about something.”
    “Ezekiel Prescott’s fault, no doubt.” There is a tightness to bartender’s voice as she says the name. “Her boyfriend doesn’t eat here.”
    I nod, because I can tell by the gruff tone of her voice that it’s better to let the topic go. I don’t need involved in anyone’s relationship drama. Yet my eyes go back to them. Abby. Sadie. I repeat the names over in my head like I might forget them. Or maybe it’s because I still can’t believe they are real. Did the boy on the balcony know they’d be here?
    The bartender watches me, so I force myself to turn around to my food. She leans over the bar as I take the last bite of my cheeseburger. “May I ask you what your name might be?”
    I raise my eyes, only to quickly let them drop back to my plate. She studies my face a little too intently for my liking. My first instinct is to lie. It’s always to lie. If this woman knows them so well, then she obviously knew my mother too. Of course, that doesn’t mean she will immediately recognize my name as Reid had, but I don’t know if that is a risk I should take. I remind myself I came here for one reason, and that is to learn about my past, and my mother in particular, so I shouldn’t let this guy who doesn’t even know me ruin it. “Wilhelmina Daniels,” I say softly, looking back up at her.
    I expect shock, or maybe disinterest. I didn’t expect to watch her smile, the crooked corners of her oddly painted lips to lift up as she lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s about time you came home.”
    She casually reaches under the bar to grab a pitcher of water. She refills my glass as I try to control the dumbfounded look on my face. She obviously notices and decides to take pity on me. “I recognized you the second you sat down on that stool, honey bear.” She lets out another cackle before scooting her glasses back up her long nose. “You were either Fiona’s daughter or her ghost.”
    “A-a-and you just knew?”
    She ignores my question, turning her attention back to the table behind me. “May I ask why you are sitting here like you don’t have a friend in the world when your family is right there?”
    I grimace, my natural reaction to interrogation. It’s like my nose has a mind of its own and wrinkles in disgust against the better judgment of the rest of my face.
    Her face turns solemn. “Have you even been by to see Sera yet?”
    I purse my lips, pressing them together so hard that when I release them, they let out a resounding pop. Which, of course, is code for no. “It’s complicated.”
    One of the rowdy patrons calls for her down at the other end of the bar, but she holds up her hand, signaling for them to wait. And they do. Without question. “How is visiting your family complicated?”
    This lady is much more than a bartender. I instantly regret opening my mouth. Involuntarily, I glance back over my shoulder at Reid, who laughs at his sister. He swipes his unruly hair out of his eyes, making the large knot on his forehead more prominent. His smile, which somehow makes you completely forget the ghastly wound above it, is completely genuine. Neither of them is here out of obligation to the other. They merely enjoy each other’s company.
    A part of me—a deep, tortured part I like to pretend doesn’t exist—wants to return the gesture, because I don’t want to be lonely anymore. I don’t want to eat dinner by myself or resort to becoming a professional kitty litter cleaner. I don’t want to be that kid in the corner with the labels and record sheet explaining why no one should want me.
    I want more.
    I’m sure my face clearly showcases the emotion I feel, which means it’s past time for me to go. I grab cash from my pocket and throw it on the bar. “I think I should be getting