T*Witches 3: Seeing Is Deceiving Read Online Free PDF Page A

whole’nother challenge. Besides, she was having fun. So no matter what her soccer-babe sis was bellowing about, Cam could wait.
    Dylan was sharing something with her. The boy was all about music, and for the past several hours he’d been riffing joyously, courtesy of the brand-spanking-new electric guitar he’d received from Dave and Emily.
    “Listen to this!” Dylan would go, over and over, eyes closed, as his nimble fingers flicked across the six-string, bending and moving the sound like an electric poet. And, “Oh, man, no wait — listen to this!”
    “Sweet!” Alex would respond, over and over again as she sang along, and every once in a while, offered an original lyric.
    If Dylan was all about playing, she was all about composing. Not that she’d ever had anything this expensive to compose on exactly. The cheesy third and fourth-hand excuse-for-guitars she’d had back in Montana could never come close to making any sounds like this.
    Music was a secret Alex had kept from family Barnes. She hadn’t told them what it meant to her, but somehow Dylan had sensed it.
    What he couldn’t know were the bittersweet memories it brought. Music would always remind Alex of her mom.
    Sara.
    It was one connection they could count on. When they had nothing, they still had music. Correction: Alex had a gift for it. And Sara had a gift for listening, singing along (tunelessly) with her daughter. To Alex, Sara’s off-key vocals were the most beautiful she would ever hear. She would never be able to listen to the classic “Sara Smile” — their favorite — without bawling.
    She’d not picked up a guitar, or even listened to much music, since Sara got sick. It had been a
long
time.
    Except that now, as she and Dylan harmonized, Alex felt a glimmer, and she remembered: the rush of creating, of that magical moment when the sound was exactly right. There were times she felt her own veins and arteries to be guitar strings, as if the music played her.
    Dylan was offering a tangible gift, too. His old guitar. Old! Only in this family would it be considered dispensable. It just so happened to be a Taylor acoustic, made of tiger maple wood. Alex knew it was costly, rare even.
    No way could she take it! She’d been dead serious about not accepting gifts from clan Barnes, refusing Emily’s offer of new clothes, Dave’s for a personal laptop.
    No way could she not! What was Dylan going to do with it anyway, she rationalized as her fingers lingered over the exquisite blond spruce face. It was probably just going to sit around, unused.
    And it was being offered by a boy she really had no trouble thinking of as family. Strange.
    Dylan was Emily and Dave’s bio-baby; Cam had lived with him all her life, and it had been clear to Alex that Cam and Dylan shared a bond. In this equation, Alex would be one sister too many.
    But a funny thing happened on the way to Barnes family dynamics class: Als had somehow bonded with Dylan. Cam was the one who sometimes felt pushed aside.
    That feeling reared its envious head when Cam finally figured out where her sister was — she came barreling into the room, and, when her shouting and motioning didn’t get Alex’s attention, in one swift, impulsive motion, pulled the plug on the amplifier. The sudden silence shook the room.
    “Whoa! What the … what’d you do that for?” Dylan jerked his head up.
    Hands on her hips, Cam said churlishly, “I need to talk to Alex. She knows this. She totally heard me calling. Yet somehow, she chose to ignore me. This seemed like the best way of getting through to her.”
    At least I didn’t blow up the amplifier,
Cam said telepathically to Alex.
I could have made sparks fly, you know!
Cam’s ability to set things on fire was her favorite guilty pleasure.
    Douse the flames, firestarter-girl,
Alex replied.
Whatever it is you’ve come to tell me probably isn’t worth huffing and puffing and burning the house down.
    Dylan looked puzzled. “Dude, how could she