Dark Magick (13 page)

She made a disbelieving face. “Not sick enough.”

“What were you doing at my house yesterday? Why were you spying on me?”

“Spying? Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, flinging down her black backpack. “I’ve had more important things to do.”

My eyes widened. “Liar! I saw you yesterday!”

“No, that was me,” Hunter put in, and Sky and I both turned to stare at him.

He shrugged. “Keeping tabs.”

His arrogance was infuriating. He might not be evil, but he was still a horrible person.

“How dare you—” I began, but Sky interrupted me.

“Of course he’s keeping tabs on you!” she snapped. “He’s on the council, and you tried to kill him! If another witch hadn’t seen what you’d done and sent me a message to go get Hunter, he would have died!”

I exploded, leaping to my feet. “What other witch?
I
was the one who sent you the message that night!
I
was the one who told you to go get him! And I called 911, too!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sky said. “You couldn’t have sent that message.You’re nowhere near strong enough.”

“Oh, yes, she is,” Hunter said mournfully, leaning his chin on his hand. “She just flushed out my brain. I have no secrets anymore.”

Sky gaped at him as if he’d been speaking in tongues. He took careful sips of his tea, not looking at her. “What are you talking about?” Sky asked.

“She did
tàth meanma
,” Hunter said, his accent thickening with the Gaelic words. A shiver went down my spine, and I knew instinctively he’d referred to what we had done, the thing I thought of as the “Wiccan mind meld.”

Sky was taken aback. “But she can’t do that.” She stared at me, and I felt like an animal in a zoo. Abruptly I sat down again.

“You’re Athar,” I said, remembering. “Athar means Sky. Cousin Athar.”

No one had much to say to that.

“She’s not in league with Cal and Selene,” Hunter offered finally. I got angry again.

“
Cal
and
Selene
aren’t in league with Cal and Selene, either!” I said. “For your info, Cal and I have done . .
. tàth menama
—”

“
Meanma
,” Hunter corrected.

“Whatever. And he wasn’t evil, either!”

“Did he lead it or did you?” Hunter asked.

Nonplussed, I thought back. “He did.”

“Did you go as deep as with me?” he pressed. “Did you see childhood and future, wake and sleep?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, trying to think.

“You need to be sure,” David told me, almost impatiently.

I looked at all three of them. They seemed to be waiting for my response, and I had nothing to give them. I loved Cal, and he loved me. It was ridiculous to think he might be evil.

A picture of the little room in the pool house suddenly rose in front of my mind’s eye. I pushed it angrily away. My mind seized on something else.

“I heard Bree and Raven talking about how you were teaching them about the dark side,” I accused Sky.

“Of course I was,” she countered, black eyes flashing. “So they could recognize it and fight it! It seems someone should have been teaching you the same thing!”

I stood again, overwhelmed with anger. “Thanks for the tea,” I told David. “I’m glad you’re not dead,” I growled at Hunter.Then I stalked out the back door.

As I stomped down the alley and back to my car, my brain pounded with possibilities. Hunter wasn’t dead! It was a huge relief, and waves of thankfulness washed over me. And he wasn’t evil! Just—misguided. Unfortunately, Sky was still a total bitch and leading Bree and Raven and the rest of Kithic into what seemed to me to be a gray area.

But first things first. Hunter was alive!

When I got home, I found a note saying that Cal had stopped by while I was gone. I ran upstairs, brought the phone into my room, and called Cal’s house. He answered right away.

“Morgan! Where have you been? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, the familiar feeling of warmth coming over me at the sound of his voice. “I don’t know what was wrong with me this morning. I just felt so weird.”

“I was worried about you.Where did you go?”

“To Practical Magick. And you’ll never guess who I saw there.”

There was silence on Cal’s end, and I felt his sudden alertness. “Who?”

“Hunter Niall,” I announced. I pictured Cal’s eyes widening, his face showing astonishment. I smiled, wishing I could see him.

“What do you mean?” Cal asked.

“I mean he’s alive,” I said. “I saw him.”

“Where has he been all this time?” Cal asked, sounding almost offended.

“Actually, I didn’t ask,” I said. “I guess he’s been with Sky. She found him that night and brought him home.”

“So he wasn’t dead,” Cal repeated. “He went over that cliff with an athame in his neck, and he wasn’t dead.”

“No. Aren’t you thrilled?” I said. “The weight of this has been so awful. I couldn’t believe I had done something so terrible.”

“Even though he was killing me,” Cal said flatly. “Putting a
braigh
on me. Trying to take me to the council so they could turn me inside out.” I heard the bitterness in his voice.

“No, of course not,” I said, taken aback. “I’m glad I stopped him from doing that. We
won
that battle. I don’t regret that at all. But I thought I had killed someone, and it was going to be a shadow over my life forever. I’m really, really glad that it won’t.”

“It’s like you’ve forgotten that he was trying to kill me,” Cal said, his tone sharpening. “Do you remember what my wrists looked like afterward? Like hamburger. I’m going to have scars for the rest of my life.”

“I know, I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. He was—more than wrong. I’m glad I stopped him. But I’m also glad I didn’t
kill
him.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Yes.” I was getting so weirded out by how Cal sounded that I decided not to tell him about the
tàth menima
—
mamena
—whatever. “I also saw his charming cousin, Sky, and we got into an argument. As usual.”

Cal laughed without humor, then was quiet. What was he thinking? I felt the need to meld with his mind again, to feel his inner self. But I wanted to lead it myself this time.

That was a disturbing thought.
Did
I have doubts about Cal?

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“That I want to see you soon,” I said. I felt guilty at the partial truth.

“I wanted to see you today,” he said. “I asked you, and you said no, and then you went to Practical Magick. You weren’t even home when I came by to see if you were all right.”

“I’m really sorry,” I said. “I just—this morning I felt so strange. I think I was having a panic attack. I wasn’t thinking clearly and just wanted to get out of here. But I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to blow you off.”

“There were people here who wanted to meet you,” he said, sounding slightly mollified.

All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I just wasn’t up to it today.”

He sighed, and I pictured him running a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I’ve got to do a bunch of stuff tonight, but we’ve got a circle tomorrow at Ethan’s house. So I’ll see you there, if not during the day.”

“Okay,” I said. “Give me a call if you can get away.”

“All right. I missed you today. And I’m worried about Hunter. I think he’s psycho, and I was relieved when I thought he couldn’t hurt either of us anymore.”

I felt a sudden twinge of alarm. I hadn’t even considered that. I’d have to talk to Hunter and make sure he didn’t try to go after Cal again. We’d have to find a way to straighten out all these—misunderstandings or whatever they were—without violence.

“I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” Cal made a kissing noise into the phone and hung up.

I sat on my bed, musing. When I talked to Cal, I hated the whole idea of Hunter. But today, when Hunter and I were doing the
tàth
thing, he’d seemed okay.

I sighed. I felt like a weather vane, blowing this way and that, depending on the wind.

 

After dinner Mary K. and I were in the kitchen, cleaning up. Doing mundane things like working in the kitchen felt a little surreal after my conversation with Cal.

For the hundredth time I thought, Hunter is alive! I was so happy. Not that the world necessarily needed Hunter in it, but now I didn’t have his death on my conscience. He was alive, and it felt like a thousand days of sunshine, which was bizarre, considering how I couldn’t stand him.

“Any plans for tonight?” I asked Mary K.

“Bakker’s picking me up,” she answered. “We’re going to Jaycee’s.” She made a face. “Can’t you talk to Mom and Dad, Morgan? They still say that I can’t go out on dates by myself, I mean, just me and Bakker. We always have to be with other people if it’s at night.”

“Hmmm,” I said, thinking that it was probably a good idea.

“And my curfew! Ten o’clock! Bakker doesn’t have to be home till midnight.”

“Bakker’s almost seventeen,” I pointed out.“You’re fourteen.”

Her brows drew together, and she dropped a handful of silverware into the dishwasher with an angry crash.

“You hate Bakker,” she grumbled. “You’re not going to help.”

Too right, I thought, but I said, “I just don’t trust him after he tried to hurt you. I mean, he held my sister down and made her cry. I can’t forget that.”

“He’s changed,” Mary K. insisted.

I didn’t say anything.After I’d scraped the last plate, I went up to my room.Twenty minutes later I picked up on Bakker’s vibrations, and then the doorbell rang. I sighed, wishing I could protect Mary K. from afar.

Up in my room, I studied my book on the properties of different incenses, essential oils, and brews that one can make from them. After an hour I turned to Maeve’s Book of Shadows once more, dreading what I would find out and yet compelled to keep reading. It was so full of sadness right now, of anguish over Ciaran. Even though he had concealed his marriage and proved ready to desert his wife and children, she still felt he was her
mùirn beatha dàn.
It was hard for me to understand how she could still love him after learning all that. It reminded me of Mary K. and Bakker. If someone had held me down and almost raped me, I knew there was no way I would ever forgive him or take him back.

Who’s there? I looked up, my senses telling me that another person’s energy was nearby. I scanned the house quickly. I did that so often and was so familiar with my family’s patterns that it took only a second to know that my parents were in the living room, Mary K. was gone, and a stranger was in the yard. I flicked off my bedroom light and looked out my window.

I peered down into the darkest shadows behind the rhododendron bushes beneath my window, and my magesight picked out a glint of short, moonlight-colored hair. Hunter.

I ran downstairs and through the kitchen, grabbing my coat off the hook by the door. Boldly I crunched through the snow across the backyard, then down the side, where my bedroom window was. If I hadn’t been looking for him, if I didn’t have magesight, I never would have seen Hunter blending with the night’s shadows, pressed against our house. Once again I got a strong physical sensation from his presence—an uncomfortable, heightened awareness, as if my system was being flooded with caffeine over and over.

Hands on hips, I said,“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can you see in the dark?” he asked conversationally.

“Yes, of course. Can’t every witch?”

“No,” he said, stepping away from the house, dusting off his gloves. “Not every witch has magesight. No uninitiated witch does, except you, I suppose. And not even every full-blood witch has it. It does seem to run strongly in Woodbanes.”

“Then you must have it,” I said. “Since you’re half Woodbane.”