Spellbound

  "Do you have a Woodbane athame?" I asked. "The birthmark?" "I do, actually," he said. "Do you?"

  "Yes." I dropped the washcloth in the sink and reached for the antibiotic ointment.

  "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said with a wolfish smile.Mine was under my left arm, on my side. Since I couldn't see his, I could only assume it was somewhere under his pants. My mind couldn't even begin to go there, so I said nothing. "Don't you want to know where mine is?" he asked teasingly, and I could feel my blush starting at my neck and working its way upward. He leaned over me and brushed my hair over my shoulder,

  then traced my jawline with one finger. I remembered the way he felt,

  pressed against me, and most of my coherent thoughts fled. "No," I said unconvincingly, lost in his eyes. "I want to know where yours is," he breathed, his mouth close to mine.

  The idea of his hands under my shirt, roaming over my skin, almost made my knees buckle. "Uh," I said, trying to talk myself out of whipping off my shirt right there. Focus. Come on, Morgan. "Cal called me tonight," I blurted.

  His hand fell away from my cheek. "What?" His voice reverberated loudly off the tiles.

  "On my way over here. He sent me a witch message. I heard it in my head."

  Hunter stared at me. "Why didn't you tell me right away?" I just looked at him, and then he realized what had happened as soon as I got here.

  "Right. I'm sorry. Well, what did he say? Could you tell where he was? Do you know where he is? Tell me everything." Moments before he had been playful and flirtatious; now he was intense, all business. "There's nothing much to say," I explained. "I was driving here, and suddenly I heard Cal say,'Morgan.' That's all. I was totally freaked and sent my senses out to find him but didn't feel him anywhere. I mean, I didn't feel a thing. And that was all he said." "Do you know where he is?" Hunter demanded, holding my shoulders. "Tell me the truth."

  "What do you mean? I am telling you the truth! I don't know where he is." I stared at him in bafflement. How could he think I might lie about something so important to both of us? "Cal! That bastard," Hunter snapped, letting go of me. His hands clenched into fists, and the bathroom seemed too small to hold his rage. "Are you sure he didn't say anything else?" "I'm positive. I already told you." I returned his glare. "Why are you treating me like a criminal? I didn't do anything wrong." A muscle in his jaw flickered. But he didn't reply directly. Instead he shot questions at me like bullets. "Did you feel at all different? Is there a period of time you don't remember? Anything that feels confusing or odd?"

  I realized what he was getting at. "Wouldn't I know if he'd put a spell on me?"

  "No," Hunter said disdainfully. "He's a piss-poor witch, but he knows more than you do." He looked deeply into my eyes, as if he would see the spell reflected there. Then he turned away. I felt embarrassed and angry. Hunter was hurting my feelings, and I felt myself closing off to him. Especially when he wheeled back to me and

  added, "You're not holding anything back from me, are you? You're not

  feeling some idiotic urge to protect him because he's such a bloody stud and

  you still want him even after he tried to kill you?" My mouth fell open, and my hand had shot up to slap him when it hit me: he was jealous. Jealous of my past with Cal. I stood there with my hand in the air as I tried to process this. "Goddess, that bastard!" Hunter said. "If he's here, if I find him ..."

  Then what? I wondered. You'll kill him? I couldn't believe Hunter, cool, reserved Hunter had turned into this furious person I barely recognized in a matter of seconds. It frightened me. "Hey, are you lot almost done in there?" Sky called from the other room.

  "Yes," I called back, wanting to get away from Hunter. I wondered why on earth I had thought telling him would make me feel better or safer.

  "This is one of the most useful rituals there is," said Sky almost half an hour later. I was finding that Sky's circle was different from any circle I'd attended: the fact was that whoever was leading a circle naturally imbued it with their aura, their power, and their whole persona. It was fascinating to see how different leaders cast different circles. So far I liked Sky's circle.

  "I'd like to teach you how to deflect negative energy," said Sky. "This isn't something to use if you're under attack or in real trouble. It's more like something gentle and constant to surround yourself with in order to reduce negativity in your life and increase your positive energy."

  I glanced at Hunter, thinking, He could use some positive energy right about now. His anger seemed less intense, but I could tell he was still brooding.

  "It uses runes as its base," Sky explained. She took a small red velvet pouch from her belt and knelt. "Everyone sit down and come closer." Opening the pouch, she dumped its contents onto the wooden floor. Rune tiles spilled out, really pretty ones, made of different- colored stones. I had a rune set at home that I'd bought at Practical Magick, but mine was only fired clay. "There are so many different tools a witch can use. Incense, herbs, oils, runes or other symbols, crystals and gems, metals, candles." She grinned up at us as we crowded around her like kindergartners. "Witches are very practical. We use whatever we can find. Today we're using runes." With deft fingers she organized the runes into three rows, each tile in line according to its place in the elder futhark,the traditional

  runic alphabet. We all knew the runes by heart at this point, and I

  could hear the coven members quietly identifying them. "First we need eolh, for protection," said Sky, pulling it out of line. "What's another name for eolh?"

  "Algiz," I said automatically.

  "And wynn," she said, placing the wynn tile next to eolh. "For happiness and harmony. Another name for it?" Simon said, "Wunjo."

  "Uine," said Robbie, and Sky nodded. I liked how she was involving everyone—she wasn't just lecturing, but including what little knowledge we had.

  "Sigel, for sun, life, energy," said Sky, placing it by the other to form a triangle.

  "Sowllo," said Thalia, looking pleased that she knew. "Sugil," Bree added.

  Sky grinned. "You guys are good. One more. Ur, for strength." She placed the tile for ur so that the four symbols together made a diamond shape.

  "Uruz or uraz," said Raven, and her eyes met Sky's for a moment of private communion.

  "Right. Now," Sky went on. "You can write these runes on a piece of paper, scratch them into an old slate or stone, carve them into a candle, or what have you. But use these four runes in this order. Put the written runes in your personal space, your bedroom, your car, even your school locker. When you see them, tap them with a finger and repeat, "Eolh, wynn, sigel, ur. Come to me from where you are. Guide the things I do or say, and let your wisdom come this way." She sat back. "You can also circle your hand, palm down, three times deasil over the runes to help increase their power." She showed us. "That's all there is to it. It's not big magick or especially beautiful magick, but it's very useful magick."

  "I think it's beautiful," said Alisa, looking young and sincere. "All magick is beautiful."

  "No," I said, sounding more abrupt than I had meant to. "It isn't"

  People looked at me, and I felt self-conscious. Hunter and Sky nodded, and I knew they understood. We three had seen magick that was dark and ugly. It existed; it was all around us. That night I found myself driving behind Bree on the way home from Hunter and Sky's. I felt shaken and upset, not to mentioned bruised and achy: hearing Cal's voice, the frightening fall I'd had, Hunter's awful reaction to hearing about Cal. Was Cal nearby? Just

  thinking about it terrified me. It was all too much. I just wanted to go

  home and get in bed and hold my kitten, Dagda. Bree had taken the short route home, down Gallows Road. There were lots of twists and turns, but it took less time than going on main streets. Bree had always been the more daring driver of the two of us, and despite my trying to keep up, within minutes I lost sight of her in the darkness. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with the feeling of being completely alone on a dark
road.

  Without warning, my headlights flashed on something on the road ahead. I caught a blurry glimpse of something—a deer?—barely in time to slam on my brakes. As Das Boot screeched heavily to a halt, my eyes focused, and my mouth opened in a wordless,"Oh." My headlights shone on a figure who was walking toward my car, hands upraised.

  Cal.

  9. Cal

  Lammas, I'm fairly well settled into the house now that Clyda's gone. Her death three months ago were a surprise to everyone but me. She'd been sick, getting frailer and weaker. I think it was the dark wave in Madrid that really took it out of her, Really, she had no business traveling at her age. But it's difficult for some people to acknowledge their weaknesses.

  I was in Ireland last week and met two interesting witches. One was a gorgeous boy, just old enough to shave, whose power is already frightening and strong and worth watching. I took Ciaran to bed for a night, and he was charmingly youthful, enthusiastic, and surprisingly skilled. I'm smiling even now, thinking about it. But it's Daniel Niall who's haunting my thoughts, and the irony of this can't escape me. Daniel is a Woodbane from England who came to one of Amyranth's gatherings in Shannon. I could see he was uncomfortable, had come out of curiosity and found us not to his liking. For some reason that made him even more attractive to me. He doesn't have Ciaran's harsh, raw beauty, but he is good looking, with strong, masculine features, and when he looked into my eyes and smiled shyly, my heart missed a beat. Sweet Daniel. He's deeply good, honest, from one of those Woodbane covens that renounced evil years ago. It's oddly endearing and also a challenge: how much more satisying to seduce an angel than a villain? —SB

  At once I felt a wash of cold fear sweep over me from head to

  foot, and my hands clenched the steering wheel. Cal gestured with one hand, and Das Boot's engine died quietly and the headlights winked out. Automatically I began to use my magesight, the enhanced vision I'd been able to call on since shortly after I learned I was a blood witch.Cal came closer, and I wrenched my door open and jumped out, determined to be standing during any meeting we had. When I saw his face, my breath left me, not in a whoosh but in a quiet trail, like a vine of smoke in the cold night air. Oh Goddess, had I forgotten his face? No—not when he haunted my dreams and my waking thoughts. But I had forgotten his impact on me, the sweet longing I felt when our eyes met, despite my fear.

  Then of course came the remembered anger and a fierce rush of self-protective instinct.

  "What are you doing here?" I demanded, trying to make my voice strong. But in the darkness I sounded harsh and afraid. "Morgan," he said, and his voice crept along all my nerves, like honey. I had missed his voice. I hardened my heart and stared at him. "Last time I saw you, you were trying to kill me," I said, striving for a flippancy I was too scared to pull off. "I was trying to save you," he said earnestly, and came so close, I could see he wasn't an apparition, wasn't a ghost, but a real person in a real body that I had touched and kissed. "Believe me—if Selene had gotten her hands on you, death would have been far better. Morgan, I know now that I was wrong, but I was crazy with fear, and I did what I thought was best. Forgive me." I couldn't speak. How did he do it? Even now, when I knew I should just jump in my car and drive away as fast as I could, my heart was whispering, Believe him.

  "I love you more now than ever," Cal said. "I've come back to be with you. I told Selene I wouldn't help her anymore." "You're telling me you've broken away from your mother?" I said. Emotion made my voice harsh, raw. "Give me one good reason I should believe you."

  Wordlessly Cal opened his jacket. Underneath he wore a flannel shirt, and he unbuttoned the top three buttons and pulled it open so that I could see his chest. Instantly Hunter's naked chest flashed into my mind. Oh God, I thought with a tinge of hysteria. Then I saw the blackened, burned-looking patch of skin directly over Cal's heart. I focused my magesight on it so that I could see clearly, despite the darkness. It was in the shape of a hand.

  "Selene did that to me," Cal said, and remembered pain

  thrummed in his voice. "When I told her I chose you over her." Goddess. I swallowed hard. And then, without allowing myself to think about what I was risking, I put out my hand and touched my fingers to his cheek. I had to know the truth. His eyes flared open as he realized what I was doing, but he stood still. I pushed through the outer layers of his consciousness, feeling his resistance, feeling him will himself to accept my invasion. For the first time with Cal, I was controlling the joining of our minds. I would see what I wanted to see, not simply what he wanted to show me.

  Then I was Inside, and Cal was all around me. I saw my face, but the way he saw it, with a sort of glow around it that made me beautiful, unearthly. I was shaken to sense how much he wanted me. I saw Hunter striding down the street in Red Kill, and felt an ugly burst of hatred and violence from Cal that rocked me. I saw a steep hillside below me, dotted with small stucco houses with red roofs, that stretched down to a sparkling blue bay. I felt a breeze blowing against my cheeks. In the distance a red bridge stretched from one headland to another, and I realized I was seeing San Francisco, where I'd never been. It was beautiful, but it wasn't what I needed to see, so I kept searching. Then I saw Selene.

  She was looking directly at me, and I had to fight a strong [ Impulse to hide my face, though I knew I was only seeing f Cal's memory. She wasn't looking at me but at him. The expression in her eyes was cold fury.

  "You can't go," she said. "I won't allow it." "I am going," Cal said, and I felt his defiance, his fear, his resolve.

  Selene's beautiful face twisted into a snarl of rage. "You idiot," she said. Then her hand was snaking toward him, so fast, it was just a blur, and I felt a searing pain as she touched Cal's flesh. Her hand felt deathly cold, as if it were made of liquid nitrogen, but then a wisp of smoke rose up in front of my eyes, and I smelled charred flesh. I cringed and gasped, twisting with Cal as he sought to escape the agony.Then she took her hand away, and it was over, except for the memory of the pain.

  "That was just the barest taste of what I can do," she said in a voice like iron. "I could have taken your heart as easily as plucking a cherry out of a bowl. I didn't because you are my son, and I know this foolishness will pass. But now you've experienced what I can do to those who cross me."

  And she turned and strode away.

  I let my hand drop, shaken, but Cal grabbed it. "Morgan, I need you. I need your love and your strength. Together we're strong enough to fight Selene, to win against her." "No, we're not!" I cried. I snatched my hand away. "Are you insane? Selene could crush both of us and five other witches besides. I don't even know if she can be stopped."

  "She can!" Cal said, coming closer still. He looked thinner than when I had seen him last, and his perpetual golden tan had faded slightly. I wondered if he had been eating, where he had been staying, and then told myself I didn't give a damn. "Selene can be stopped. The two of us, and your

  mother's coven tools, will be enough to stop her cold. I'm sure of it Just tell me you'll work with me. Morgan, tell me you still love me." His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “Tell me I haven't killed your love for me."

  With a sense of shame I recognized that I cared for him, cared about him, that despite everything I didn't, couldn't hate him. But I couldn't say I still loved him, either, and there was no way I would agree to help him go up against Selene. "There's no way we can be together now," I said, and the image of myself pressed against Hunter, kissing him fiercely, flashed into my mind. "I know what I did to you was terrible," Cal said. "At first I was just trying to get next to your power. I admit that. But then I fell for you. Fell for your strength and beauty, your honesty and humility. Every time I saw you was a revelation, and now I can't live without you. I don't want to live without you. I want to be with you forever." He looked so sincere, his face contorted with pain. I didn't know what to say: a thousand thoughts flew through my head like sparks flying upward from a fire. I recoiled from his presence even as part of me ach
ed for his words to be true. I was scared of him and also afraid that what he was saying was real, that no one would ever love me so much again.

  "All I ask is that you give me another chance," he pleaded in a tone that threatened to break my heart. "I was so horribly wrong—I thought I could have you and give

  Selene what she wanted, too, but I couldn't. Please give me a chance to make it up to you, a chance to redeem myself. Morgan, please. I love you." He stepped closer still, and I could feel his breath, as cold as the night air, brushing against my cheek. "I don't want Selene to hurt you. Morgan, she wants to kill you. Now that she knows you'll never join her, she needs you dead so she can have your tools." He shook his head. "I can't let her do that."

  "Where is she?" I asked shakily.

  "I don't know," he said. "We were in San Francisco, but she's not there anymore. She's not far. I pick up on her sometimes. At least four members of her coven are with her. They're coming for you, Morgan. You have to let me protect you."