Witch Is The New Black (Paris, Texas Romance #3)

“So then why don’t they have video of you entering the bank?”


“Because Eddie disarmed the cameras just after entering the bank, according to the police and Baba Yaga. He had on a black mask, but I’d know Eddie’s hands and arms anywhere. Baba showed me the video. He has a tattoo on his arm of a cross with a loop at the top, and they caught that on camera. So the claim was that once he took out the camera in the lobby, I entered the picture like some Bonnie to his Clyde.”

“And where was he in all of this? How is it you’re the only one who got caught?”

“I don’t know how he got out of there or why he’s on camera disabling it one minute and gone the next. All I know is, I was the one in the bank vault. One minute I was wondering what was taking so long to make a simple withdrawal, the next I was in handcuffs.”

“And Baba came and got you out of jail.”

Bernie closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, and then I was in witch prison, where no one believed I had no idea what happened to me or that I didn’t know I was a witch…I know that sounds crazy. I know that all you magic people think I’m out of my mind, but it’s the truth. I swear it on my parents’ souls—I didn’t know I was a witch.”

Ridge turned to face her, his eyes soft. “I believe you,” he whispered into the dark night.

Tears instantly stung her eyes when she looked up at him. “Really?” she rasped.

Ridge grabbed her hand and cupped it in his. “Really. It makes perfect sense now. All this time you’ve been looking at me like I had two heads when I mentioned your trial and the realm. But explain this to me—how did your parents keep it from you? Are you adopted?”

“I thought of that, too, but there’s no denying I look just like my mother. The spitting image, in fact.”

“Okay, so maybe they put a suppression spell on you to quell your witch urges?”

Now that was something she’d never given any thought to. Who knew spells like that even existed? There were so many questions she didn’t know to ask.

“I don’t know. Can you do that? My parents were almost overprotective of me. I had leukemia as an infant, and it was always the reason they gave when they hovered. I don’t doubt they loved me, but to keep something like this from me? Do you think my parents were witches?”

That was insane. Wasn’t it?

“I don’t know. I do know it’s damn strange for them to have kept something so huge from you. It’s happened, but typically when you hit puberty, if you haven’t used your powers, they manifest anyway.”

“Puberty,” she muttered as that word sunk in. Then she grabbed Ridge’s arm and squeezed it in excitement. “Oh my God! That’s when all these crazy things began to happen to me—at thirteen. Chandeliers falling from the ceiling, people falling down stairs, glasses exploding for no reason—and that’s only the beginning of a laundry list of coincidences I have under my belt. Everywhere I went meant disaster for someone. In high school they called me Bad Luck Bernie. As an adult, I couldn’t keep a job for very long because inevitably I’d create chaos and have to leave or end up fired.”

God. That made so much sense.

What made no sense? Her parents keeping something of this magnitude from her.

Would they have let her suffer the humiliation of her constant “accidents” just to prevent her from finding out she was a witch? What purpose would that serve? Had they been hiding from something?

“And while I realize this is a sensitive subject, I have to ask. How did Eddie figure into this? What did he have to say about your alleged bad luck?”

“He was the first person I’d trusted since my parents’ deaths—the first person I let fully into my life. Looking back now, I realize I was vulnerable and lonely. We didn’t really have much in common other than he accepted me. Walking disaster and all. He chalked up my bad luck to coincidence. He laughed it off. He made me feel like I wasn’t such a freak.”

“How long did you date Eddie?”

“Several months before I caught him cheating.”

“Any idea where he is now? Where he landed after the robbery? Did he try to contact you at all?”

“Nope. Not a word. I googled him at Winnie’s, and I can’t find a single bit of information on him.”

“So, you stopped protesting you were a witch when you were in jail. Why?”

Bernie sighed. “Well, there’s the obvious. No one believed me. In fact, one of the screws—”

“Screws?”

“Guards,” she provided on a giggle. “Sorry. My prison lingo lingers. Anyway, the guards thought I was trying to worm my way out of hard time and get myself relocated to the psych ward so I wouldn’t have to peel potatoes or do latrine duty anymore.”