Page 93 of Enchanted to Meet You

“Youknow,” he said. “Rosalie is a narcissist, so desperate for power and attention that she’ll do anything, anything at all to make sure she gets it, even put the lives of everyone around her at risk. Look what she did to you when she found out the boy she liked loved you instead. This is no different.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re talking about an entire town, not a high school crush. It’s alittledifferent, Derrick.”

“Is it? My brother has always had exactly the same issues as Rosalie, always needing to be the center of attention. He calls himself aGrand Sorcerer, for God’s sake. I’ve always had a relationship with our mother that he envied. I’m the one she asks for help when there’s a problem with a town like yours, not him, and it’s always driven him crazy.”

“Wow, that’s so funny, because Rosalie says that he says theexact same thingabout you. Unfortunately for you there’sproofRosalie’s great-great-granny wrote the prophecy. And Rosalie says Lizzie’s a witch. She can cast glamours.”

“Rosalie’s great-granny may very well have written the prophecy,” Derrick said, releasing his hold on me, and leaving me feeling warm and tingly . . . and regretful he hadn’t touched me in more places. But he dragged a hand through his hair instead.“And Lizzie very well may be able to cast glamours. But glamours won’t save us tomorrow night. You and Esther will.”

“Oh, I see. And that information came from your mother, the ancient pagan deity Gaia, I suppose.”

“Yes.I know how hard it must seem to believe, butyes.” He spat the words through gritted teeth. “It’s not information I generally share, because of exactly the reaction you’re having right now. I don’t relish people knowing that my mother makes a regular habit of roaming the earth looking for lonely, virile men by whom to impregnate herself, and then abandoning the baby with them nine months later because she has no interest in child-rearing, then going off on her merry way to find some other poor sap to screw. But she is literallythe mother of creation. It’s what she does for fun. She’s been doing it since the dawn of time and will probably keep doing it until Armageddon.”

I stared at him. “Wait. Your mom got pregnant by your dad and then just...leftyou with him?”

“Yes.” When he noticed my expression, he jabbed a finger in my direction. “Don’t. Donotlook at me like that. I donothave abandonment issues or whatever else Rosalie told you that my brother said. Dad and I were—are—fine.”

“I’m sure you are.” Still, my heart wept a little for the motherless little boy raised all alone on that desolate farm in Montana—if, in fact, what he was saying was true. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Far, far too many to fit into any normal venue for a family reunion, with the possible exception of the Grand Canyon.”

I shook my head. “I really... I really don’t know if you’re telling the truth. Or how to process this information if you are. Because if your mother is Gaia, that means she’s immortal. Which must mean that you are, too.”

He was shaking his head, as well. “No. No, it does not. Why do you think she keeps having children? She can’t bear watching us grow old and die. Every one of us leaves her, in the end.”

“Oh.” Now my heart swelled with pity for his mother. “Derrick.”

It all made sense now....

Wait. No, it didn’t.Noneof this made sense. Nothing I’d heard this evening—this whole week—made sense. Why was I even standing here having this conversation? This guy was a stark, raving—

Except.

Except that if I believed magic was real—and I had incontrovertible proof that it was—why shouldn’t I believe that this was real, too?

Becausenoneof it made any sense.

“But if you and Bartholomew Brewster have the same mother,” I asked, “why would she tellyouthat I’m the Chosen One andhimthat Rosalie is?”

“She didn’t,” he said. “Brewster and my mother don’t speak.”

I raised my eyebrows. “They don’t?”

“No. Does everyone in your family get along?”

“Yes.”

His eyebrows practically hit his hairline. “But your parents don’t even know you’re a witch.”

“Well, yes. But aside from—”

“Aside from youactively lyingto them about the most important thing in your life, you mean.”

“Notactively. I told you... I consider it more omitting a truth they wouldn’t understand, and would only hurt them. I’mprotectingthem.”

“Oh, so it’s fine for you to omit truths to your parents toprotect them, but wrong for me to omit truths to you foryourprotection?”

I glared at him. “Yes! Because I’m not a senior citizen. And stop trying to change the subject. Why don’t your mother and brother get along?”