The Calling

8. Spy

August 27, 1981

I’ve been back in Scotland almost a week now. And a bleak, colorless landscape it is. Was I ever happy here? Grania met me at the door with bawling babies clinging to her skirts and a list of complaints. It had been pouring for ten days straight, and the thatching on the roof was leaking, making the entire house reek of mildew. Oh, and little Iona was cutting a tooth and couldn’t I make a tincture for the pain? It’s a wonder she didn’t ask me to stop the rains. The thing is, Grania’s not without power of her own. Before the babies came, she was a promising witch. But now she’s the martyr, and it’s all up to me. I wasn’t home half an hour before I left for the pub, and I’ve spent most of my time there ever since. I can’t face my own home. Can’t face life without Maeve.

Last night was the worst yet. The little ones both had a bug. Kyle was feverish. Iona couldn’t keep down anything she ate. With Greer still in Ballynigel, I was called on to lead a circle. I came back to find Grania shrieking like a harpy. How could I have left her with two sick kids? Didn’t I care about my own children? I didn’t have it in me to lie. “No,” I told her. “Nor do I care for you, you fat cow.” She struck me then, and I nearly struck her back. Instead, I told her she was a shrew and a chore just to look at. Made her cry, which of course drove me even farther round the bend. Finally I took her to bed just to get her to stop the waterworks. It was awful. All I wanted was Maeve in my arms.

Today Grania’s playing the victim for all it’s worth, and I find myself wishing I could stop her pathetic whining once and for all. It would cost me the coven, though. She’s still Greer’s daughter, with a certain inherited position here, no matter how undeserved.

I have so much rage in me that everything I see is enclosed in an aura of flaming red. I am furious with Maeve for her self-righteous rejection of me. Furious with myself for marrying Grania, when I should have known Maeve was out there, waiting for me. And furious with Grania for having the wretched luck to be who she is.

She just came in to tell me that she already feels a child stirring within her from last night’s mockery of lovemaking. “It will be a boy,” she said, a sickly hope on her face. “What shall we name him?”

“We shall call him Killian,” I answered. It means strife.

— Neimhidh

I was grateful no one else was in the apartment when I got back. I was still trying to pull myself together after Robbie’s accusations. After the shock had come anger. How could he have thought I’d hurt that old woman? How could he accuse me of such awful things? I’d assumed Robbie was strong enough not to be freaked by things he didn’t understand. Instead, he’d gotten totally hysterical. He hadn’t even listened when I’d tried to explain.

Yet I couldn’t help feeling a twinge—more than a twinge—of guilt. There’d been some truth in what Robbie had said. Plus I’d broken my promise to Hunter to keep a low profile.

I drew out the watch that Ciaran had given to Maeve. The gold case gleamed softly in the light coming through the living room windows. I pulled out the ruby-tipped winding stem and wound it to the right, deasil, feeling the resistance of the spring inside. Would it work after all these years? Yes, there was a soft, even ticking.

Had it been worth my trouble? I wondered, thinking about the argument with Robbie. Yes. I could no more have left the watch in that awful apartment than I could have left Maeve’s Book of Shadows in Selene’s house.

Sitting cross-legged on Bree’s father’s couch, I tried to find a way through the murk. I wasn’t going to lose Robbie, I told myself. Especially now that I’d sort of lost Bree. We both needed to calm down, and we probably both needed to apologize. And Robbie needed to realize that I was still the same Morgan he knew and trusted.

But you’re not, a voice inside me said. You’re a blood witch, and no one but another blood witch will ever understand.

Again I thought about why I’d wanted the watch so badly. Was it simply because it had been loved by Maeve? Or was I fascinated by the fact that it had been given to her by Ciaran, her mùirn beatha dàn, the man who eventually became her murderer? I felt my jaw tensing with anger as I thought of him, and I had to will myself to relax.

Then my senses tingled. Hunter was approaching. I took a few deep breaths to calm my conflicted heart. I wasn’t ready to discuss this with Hunter, both because I was certain he’d side with Robbie and because I knew he wouldn’t approve of my having anything connected to Ciaran.

I tucked the watch away in my pocket and went to the door.

“Hey,” I said as he came in. “How was the rest of your day?”

Hunter pulled me to him. “Spectacularly lousy. How was yours?”

“So-so. You didn’t find that building?”

“Not yet, no. I’m going to keep looking. I just wanted to stop in and tell you I wouldn’t be here for tonight’s circle.” Hunter arched one blond eyebrow. “Anyone else here?”

“Nope. Just you and me.”

“Thank the Goddess for that,” he said. He held me tight, and I felt that familiar shift as our energies aligned in perfect synchronicity. “Mmm,” I said. “This is nice. I think I’ve had enough of the group experience.”

Hunter laughed. “You didn’t expect we’d get on each other’s nerves living in such close quarters? Try growing up in a coven where everyone’s been able to read your emotions from the day you were born. There’s a reason New York is teeming with witches run away from home.”

He took off his jacket, and we went into the kitchen. I got myself a Diet Coke from the fridge.

Hunter wrinkled his nose. “How can you drink that vile stuff?”

“It’s delicious. And nutritious.”

“You would think so,” he said darkly. He sighed. “I’m up against a brick wall, Morgan. Killian was here, and now he’s gone. I’ve been—what do they say? Not beating the bushes.”

“Pounding the pavement?” I suggested helpfully.

“Whatever. Not a trace of him anywhere. It’s almost as if he never existed.” Hunter ran himself a glass of water from the tap. “I didn’t imagine him, did I?”

“If you did, then we shared the same arrogant hallucination.”

A corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted. “You didn’t find him—attractive?”

“No,” I said, realizing with some surprise that I was being totally honest, not trying to save Hunter’s feelings. “I liked him. I thought he was fun. But he also seemed kind of stuck on himself.”

“Personally, I think he’s a pain, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worth saving.”

“That’s big of you,” I teased, but the worried look in Hunter’s eyes scared me. “You think Amyranth has him already, don’t you?”

He didn’t reply, but his lips thinned.

“Look, why don’t we just put off the circle for a night?” I suggested. “We could all help you search for him.”

Hunter’s answer was swift and firm. “No. Especially now that we know Ciaran’s involved. I don’t want you anywhere near this.”

“Do you think he already knows about me? I mean, that Maeve and Angus had a daughter.”

Hunter looked absolutely miserable. “God, I hope not.”

I took some deep breaths and tried to fight off the feeling of dread.

I felt Hunter’s hand close around my wrist. “I’m going to leave soon. But first…come with me. Let’s just…be with each other for a little while.”

I nodded. We went into the guest bedroom and lay down on my narrow mattress. I let Hunter hold me loosely in his arms. I wanted to clasp him to me, to stave off all the desperation and fear charging through me. I wanted never to let him go.

“We can’t hold on to each other forever, you know,” he said, echoing my thoughts.

“Why not?” I asked. “Why can’t we just stay here and keep each other safe?”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “For one thing, I’m a Seeker. For another, none of us can guarantee another’s safety, much as we’d love to.” He kissed me again, this time on the mouth. I could feel his heart beating against mine. Someday, I thought, when all this is over, we’ll be able to be like this all the time. Warm, close together.

Someday.

By the time I’d changed, set out candles and salt, and purified the living room with the smoke of cedar and sage, Hunter was gone and everyone else had returned to the apartment.

Though Bree and Robbie seemed to be keeping their distance, Sky and Raven had come in together. Packages were put away. Plans for later that evening were discussed. When everyone had finally settled in, we gathered in the living room for our circle. It felt odd to be there without Jenna, Matt, Ethan, Sharon, and the other members of Kithic. I wondered briefly what they were doing back in Widow’s Vale.

Since Sky was the only initiated witch among us, she would lead the circle. But first, at Hunter’s request, I filled everyone in on the Killian situation.

“Let’s work a spell to lift obstacles and send power to Hunter,” Sky suggested.

We pushed the few pieces of furniture against the walls and rolled up the rug. Sky traced a wide circle with chalk on the wood floor. On each of the four compass points she placed one of the four elements: a small dish of water for water, a stick of incense for air, a crystal for earth, and a candle for fire. One by one, we entered the circle. Sky closed it behind us.

“We come together to honor the Goddess and the God,” she began. “We ask their help and guidance. May our magick be pure and strong, and may we use it to help those in need.”

We joined hands, each of us focusing on our breathing. Bree stood on one side of me, Robbie on the other. I opened my senses. I could feel the familiar presences of the others, feel their heartbeats. They were all precious to me, I realized. Even Raven. The circle bound us as allies in the fight against darkness.

Slowly we began to move deasil. I felt power moving through me. I drew energy up from the earth and down from the sky.

Sky had us visualize the rune Thorn, for overcoming adversity. Then she led us in a chant for lifting obstacles. The circle began to move faster. I could feel the energy humming, rising, flowing among us, getting stronger. Sky’s pale face was alight with the purity of the power she was channeling. She traced a sigil in the air, and I felt the power lift and rise above the circle.

“To Hunter,” she said.

Abruptly the air changed. The thrum of power was gone. Suddenly we seemed like a bunch of teenagers, standing around a New York City living room instead of the beings of power we’d been just moments before.

“Good work,” Sky said, sounding pleased. “Everyone, sit down for a moment. Ground yourselves.”

We all sat down on the floor.

“Something real happened there,” Robbie said.

Bree looked worried. “How do we know that energy went to Hunter and didn’t get picked up by the Woodbanes?”

“I bound it with a sigil of protection before I sent it out,” Sky answered.

“So now he should be able to find Killian?” Raven asked.

Sky shrugged her slender shoulders. “There are no guarantees, of course. Killian seems to have a gift for making himself scarce. But hopefully what we just did will make it a little easier for Hunter.” She glanced around at the circle. “We’d better clean up.”

For the next twenty minutes we cleaned up and debated what everyone was going to do with the rest of the evening. Raven wanted to go to another club—a normal, nonwitch one, this time—while Robbie wanted to hear some obscure band that was playing in Tribeca, and Bree wanted to go to a trendy pool hall down near Battery Park. I, of course, was wondering if Hunter was going to show up, but it seemed wimpy to say that aloud. And I was tired. Maybe it was the fight with Robbie or the circle, but I felt drained.

We were still trying to make a plan when the apartment door opened and Hunter walked in, one hand gripping Killian’s elbow. Killian looked sullen, and Hunter looked irritated. It was clear that Killian had not come of his own free will.

We must all have been staring openmouthed because Killian’s sullen expression turned to one of delight. He grinned and said, “I am pretty amazing, aren’t I?”

“Are you all right?” I asked, unable to reconcile his cheerful presence with the Killian of my vision.

“Tip-top,” Killian replied. “How about you, love?” He flicked his thumb at Hunter. “Must be rough, hanging out with Mr. Doom-and-Gloom here. Sucks the joy right out of life.”

“Shut up and sit down,” Hunter snapped.

Killian first helped himself to a soda from the fridge and then flopped onto the couch.

“He was in Chelsea,” Hunter said, “hiding out in an abandoned apartment building.”

“Who said anything about hiding?” Killian protested. “I just wanted some time by myself. No one asked you to come barging in, Seeker.”

“Would you rather your father found you first?” Hunter snapped.

Killian gave an overly casual shrug. “Why should I care if my father finds me? As long as he doesn’t try to send me to bed early.” He held up his hand as Hunter started to speak. “And please, don’t start up with that idiocy about him wanting to drain my power. I mean, honestly, where do you get all this? Is that what the council spends its time on—dreaming up daft conspiracy theories?”

I couldn’t make sense of it. Had my vision been all wrong? Or had Killian been held somewhere and escaped? Was Killian powerful enough to manipulate my scrying?

Hunter glanced at Bree. “Do you think your father would mind if Killian stayed the night?”

“I guess not,” Bree said, but she didn’t look happy about it.

“Right, then,” Hunter said. “He can sleep in the living room with me and Robbie.”

“Oh, joy,” Killian caroled.

Robbie dug out another green stuff sack from the mound of gear in the living room and tossed it to him. Killian caught the air mattress, then dropped it on the floor and fixed his gaze on Raven. “I knew we’d meet again. How about if you and I sneak off for a quick pint, get to know each other better?”

“That’s enough,” Sky said.

Killian shrugged and grinned at me. “Touchy bunch you hang out with. Everyone always taking offense. Are you as bad as the rest of them?”

“Are you playing us off against each other?” I asked, not able to muster quite as much outrage as I should have. There was just something about him that appealed to me. I felt like we were coconspirators. It was a completely alien feeling for me, but I liked it.

Killian’s grin grew even wider. “Well, it would provide a little drama.”

“Oh, I think you have plenty of drama in your life,” Hunter said. “Anyway, you’re not going anywhere tonight. I worked too hard to find you—I’m not going to risk you running off or getting captured.”

“As if you knew anything about it,” Killian said with contempt.

“Would you excuse us for a minute?” I said, motioning for Hunter and Sky to follow me into the study for a quick huddle.

“I think you all ought to go out and leave me here with Killian,” I said.

“Are you mad?” Hunter demanded.

“He and I kind of…get along,” I said. “I don’t understand it,” I added quickly, “but he’s not flirting with me, the way he does with Raven. Bree and Sky both flat-out dislike him. And Hunter, the two of you just irritate each other. I think I might be able to get him to talk if you’ll all just leave us here.”

“It’s too dangerous—” Hunter began.

“I know he’s a pain,” I said, “but I don’t sense any real danger from him.”

“Morgan can take care of herself, you know,” said Sky. “And it’s true. Killian doesn’t have that antagonistic streak with her, while I think the rest of us could cheerfully strangle him.”

“All right,” Hunter agreed at last. “But I’m going to be in the coffee shop in the building. If anything feels dangerous or even a little bit dodgy, I want you to send me a message immediately.”

I gave Hunter my word, and five minutes later Killian and I were alone in the apartment. We sat on opposite ends of the couch, watching each other. I tried to figure out why I liked someone so obnoxious. It wasn’t sexual attraction. It was something else, something equally as strong. Despite his being clearly amoral and self-centered, there was something oddly lovable about Killian. Maybe it was that he genuinely seemed to like me.

“Are you all right?” he asked. The gentleness in his voice took me by surprise.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” Killian said. “I don’t know you very well, do I? But I sense you’re feeling weaker than you’re used to. Drained, maybe.”

Be wary of him, I told myself. “I’m just tired,” I said.

“Right, it’s been a long day.” He glanced at the green stuff sack on the floor. “I could turn in, I suppose, behave myself and make the Seeker happy.”

“He’s just trying to protect you,” I said.

Anger flickered in Killian’s dark eyes. “I never asked for protection.”

“You need it,” I said. “Your own father is trying to kill you.”

Killian waved his hand. “The Seeker was going on about the same thing. Let me tell you, right? It’s not likely my dad would go after me. He’s got much bigger fish to fry, as the saying goes.” Killian looked over his shoulder at the kitchen. “Now, there’s one thing the States is lacking, a good fish-and-chips joint. I could use some right now, in fact.”

“You’re out of luck,” I said testily. “Back to the subject. Your father is the leader of Amyranth?”

Killian got up and walked over to the window. He leaned his palms against the sill and stared out into the darkness. “My dad is a very powerful witch. I respect his power. I’d be a bloody madman not to. I stay out of his way. He’s got no reason to want me dead.”

He hadn’t answered the question, I noticed with interest. “What about your mother?” I asked.

Killian laughed mirthlessly and turned to face me. “Grania? The bird’s got generations of magick in her blood, but does she appreciate it? Not at all. She gets her real power from being a victim. No matter what happens, she suffers. Nobly, dramatically, and loudly. I tell you, I completely understand why my dad left that house. I couldn’t wait to get out myself.”

“So you came to New York to be with him?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “I knew he was here, of course. And there were certain…connections for me in the city because of him. But Dad’s a heartless bastard. We’re not what you would call close.” He polished off his soda and looked at me. “What about you? What’s your story?”

I shrugged, not wanting to lie about myself, but knowing I shouldn’t tell him anything of my real story.

“You’re a blood witch,” he stated.

I nodded. That much I couldn’t hide from him.

“Quite powerful, I can sense that,” he went on. “And for reasons that are unfathomable to me, you’re quite fond of that bore of a Seeker.”

“That’s enough,” I said sharply.

Killian laughed. “Right. Didn’t take me long to find your sore point, did it?”

“Are you always this much fun?” I asked, irritated.

Killian put his hand over his heart and looked to the ceiling. “May the gods strike me dead,” he said with mock solemnity. “Always.”

“If you weren’t running from your father, then who were you running from?” I asked, unable to give it up. “And don’t tell me you weren’t running.”

He looked at me again. All of a sudden the mirth went out of his eyes. “All right,” he said, leaning forward. “It’s like this. I don’t really believe the Seeker is right about me being an Amyranth target,” he went on in a hushed voice. “On the other hand, it is true that Amyranth isn’t exactly pleased with me. See, I’d all but joined the coven. Never went through with the initiation, but I was in deep enough to learn some of their secrets, the minor ones at least. Then I…decided that I didn’t want to join. But Amyranth isn’t the sort of coven you just walk out on. And my dad took the defection a bit personally.”

“It sounds like it took courage to defect,” I said, genuinely starting to like him. “What made you do it?”

Killian gave another of his casual shrugs. “I just wasn’t into their whole agenda.”

“Why not?” Finally, I thought, we were getting somewhere.

But he just winked at me. “Too much homework,” he said with a laugh. “Took up all my quality time. New York is a blast. Don’t you think it’s kind of a waste to spend all your time feeling like one of the witches in a bad production of Macbeth?”

I couldn’t tell anymore if Killian was being honest or just playing with me. “I think—”

I never finished my sentence because suddenly my witch senses were on red alert, shrieking in alarm. Killian felt it, too. He was on his feet in an instant, his gaze sweeping the apartment.

“What the hell is that?” I whispered. The sense of menace was so sharp, it was almost physical.

“Someone’s trying to get into the apartment,” he said.

Instantly I sent a message to Hunter. Then I ran to the video monitor in the hall and pressed the button for the doorman. “Did anyone come past you?” I asked him, trying to keep my voice normal. “Did you send anyone up to this apartment?”

“Bollocks to that,” Killian muttered. He peered through the peephole in the door and did a scan of the hallway. “No one there,” he reported a moment later. His face was pale. “But someone is definitely paying attention to us. Someone unfriendly.”

Something thumped hard against the living room window, and I jumped about a foot in the air. Killian and I both spun around. I got a brief impression of feathers in motion.

“Oh, thank God!” I said, weak with relief. “It was only a pigeon. I thought someone was trying to climb in the window.”

The front door flew open, and Hunter burst in. “What is it?” he asked breathlessly.

I ran to him. “Someone’s out there,” I said, resisting the urge to bury my face in his chest. “Someone’s watching us.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “Tell me what happened.”

My words tumbled over one another as I told him how Killian and I had both felt the hostile attention, how we’d been unable to pin down where it was coming from or who it was. Killian didn’t say anything, just nodded every now and then. His face was still pale, but I figured that was normal, after what we’d sensed.

Looking grim, Hunter began to prowl through the apartment. I could tell that his senses were fully extended, and I felt something else besides—probably some Seeker spell he was using to get the danger to reveal itself.

“Nothing,” he said, walking back into the living room. “Which doesn’t mean that there wasn’t something very real trying to get in. Only that whatever it was seems to be gone now.” He looked at Killian. “Anything else you noticed that might help us?”

Killian shook his head. “No. Nothing,” he said, sounding almost angry. Then he added abruptly, “Look, I’m knackered. I’m going to sleep.” Ignoring the air mattress, he stretched out on the couch and rolled over, presenting his back to us.

A moment later the door opened again and the rest of our group came into the apartment. Apparently they had gone to some club where a terrible band was playing and everyone else was in their fifties. There was a good deal of loud discussion of just whose bad idea it had been. Throughout it Killian lay on the couch, eyes closed. He seemed to be asleep, though I didn’t see how it was really possible, given the noise level in the room.

After a few moments I retreated to the guest room and crawled into bed. It had been a long day, and in spite of everything on my mind, I fell asleep quickly.

When I woke just before ten the next morning, Hunter was cursing.

Killian was gone.