Strega (Strega Series) by Karen Monahan Fernandes Page B

out why. There's nothing you're not telling me?"
    I was shaking. My fear of telling him the truth suddenly clashed with my fear of withholding it. I had to take the risk. I had to trust him. It helped that he sounded just as crazy as I felt. Surely he wouldn't judge me for what I was about to say. I took a deep breath and the words slowly tumbled out of my mouth.
    "There is something else. Something happened to me. But it's very strange. Unbelievable, really. I just don't know what to make of it yet, and I didn't want to tell you because you'll think I'm crazy."
    "Tell me," he said desperately. I felt like I was about to jump off a cliff.
    "I did find this blade in my aunt's basement, but not how you might think." He looked at me with wide eyes and rolled his hands to urge me on. Something about his enthusiasm told me that what I was about to say wouldn't surprise him.
    "I first saw it in a dream," I finally said. "But then this morning, it appeared again as if out of nowhere. And I saw something strange in it. A face. A reflection almost, but not my own."
    Once the words left my mouth, I panicked. It sounded even worse than it did in my head. The look on his face made me wonder if he wanted to know more or if he was about to kick me out of his office.
    "My friend thinks I am just sleep deprived. Maybe I was just seeing things..."
    I justified myself, trying to soften it before he showed me the door. I had my hand on my bag, ready to run, but he interrupted me.
    "Do not underestimate this, Jay. What happened next in your dream...after you saw the athame?"
    I sat back and exhaled with relief. I proceeded to explain the rest of the dream, growing more comfortable as I went on. It all meant something to him, though I didn't know exactly what yet.
    "Was this the first time you had a dream like this?" he asked in a peculiar tone, like he already knew it wasn't.
    "No," I said. "I had this exact dream as a child, years ago. Then it came back about a month or so ago, after my grandmother died. It was different last night, though. More vivid. Even more intense than usual. But I'd had a traumatic night —"
    "What do you mean traumatic ?"
    "Somebody followed me home last night. Chased me right to my front door. I barely got inside —"
    "Wait a minute...someone was after you?" he asked as fear spread across his face. "Do you know who?"
    I shrugged my shoulders and nodded.
    "Did you at least see his face?"
    "No."
    He let out a deep moan and paced anxiously.
    "This is what I was afraid of." He scratched his head and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses.
    "What do you mean?" I asked as I shifted forward in my seat, feeling my own anxiety soaring to a new level.
    "You are in danger, Jay."

XXI
    Mr. Whitmore rifled through a peculiar book on his desk. I caught a glimpse of its dark cover, which had a large symbol on it. As he flipped its pages, I saw that it was a collection of pages handwritten in black ink and bound together by a copper wire.
    "Here it is," he said with a sigh of relief, keeping his hand firmly on the page as he looked up at me.
    "Jay, do you believe in magic?" he asked me suddenly. I didn't know how to answer this question. Until recently, I never really thought much about magic, the supernatural, any of it. I was a science girl. A concrete, black and white, see it to believe it kind of person. I read plenty about ancient myths and superstitions. None of it was real. It couldn't be. But for the first time in my life, I had no explanation for the things I'd seen.
    "To be honest with you, I don't know what to believe right now."
    "Jay, I completely understand how you feel. What you are going through is something I can relate to all too well. I truly believe we've been brought together for a reason."
    My forehead crinkled as I stared at him.
    "I want to tell you something," he said, adjusting himself in his seat and resting his forearms on his desk. "Something I've never told anybody else."
    He let out a long, exaggerated