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Authors: Cate Tiernan

BOOK: Spellbound
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“Morgan.” His voice was soft as a breeze, and I felt it rather than heard it. He walked toward me with no sound, as if the dried leaves underfoot were silenced. I was drawn to his beautiful face, which was both guarded and hopeful.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, and I suddenly knew without a doubt that he’d been waiting, scanning the area, making sure I was alone. The last time we were in this place, he had overpowered me and kidnapped me in my car. This time, despite some lingering fear, I felt stronger, more prepared. This time, too, I was ready to call Hunter at a moment’s notice.
“I was so glad to hear from you,” he said, coming to stand in front of me. He reached out and put his hands on my knees, and I drew back from the familiarity. “There’s so much I need to talk to you about. So much I need to tell you, to share with you. But I didn’t know how much Gìomanach had influenced you.” He spat Hunter’s coven name, and I frowned.
“Cal, I need to know,” I said, getting to the point. “Have you really broken away from Selene? Do you really want to stop her?”
He again put his hands on my knees. They felt warm through my jeans, against my cold flesh. “Yes,” he said, leaning close. “I’m finished with Selene. She’s my mother, and I always had a son’s loyalty to her. That’s not hard to believe, is it? But now I see that what she does is wrong, that it’s wrong for her to call on the dark side. I don’t want any part of it. I choose you, Morgan. I love you.”
I pushed his hands off my knees. His brow darkened.
“I remember when you didn’t push me away,” he said. “I remember when you couldn’t get enough of me.”
“Cal,” I began, and then my anger pushed ahead of my compassion. “That was before you tried to kill me,” I said, my voice strong.
“I was trying to save you!” he insisted.
“You were trying to control me!” I countered. “You put binding spells on me! If you had been honest about what Selene wanted, I could have made my own decision about what to do and how to protect myself. But you didn’t give me that chance. You wanted all the power; you wanted to decide what was best.” As soon as I said that, I realized it was true, and I realized that I had never absolutely trusted Cal, never.
“Morgan,” he began, sounding infuriatingly reasonable, “you had just discovered Wicca. Of course I was trying to guide you, to teach you. It’s one of the responsibilities of being an initiated witch. I know so much more than you— you saw what happened with Robbie’s spell. You were a danger to yourself and others.”
My mouth opened in fury, and he went on, “Which doesn’t mean I don’t love you more than you can imagine. I do, Morgan, I do. I love you so much. You complete me. You’re my
mùirn beatha dàn
, my soul’s other half. We’re supposed to be together. We’re supposed to make magick together. Our powers could be more awesome than anything anyone’s ever seen. But we have to do it together.”
I swallowed. This was so hard. Why did it still hurt so much, after all Cal had done to me? “No, Cal. We’re not going to be together. We’re not
mùirn beatha dàns
.”
“That’s what you think now,” he said. “But you’re wrong.”
I looked deeply into his golden eyes and saw a spark of what looked like madness. Goddess! My blood turned to ice, and I felt incredibly stupid, meeting him here alone.
“Morgan, I love you,” Cal said cajolingly. He stepped closer to me, his eyes hooded in the look that had never before failed to make me melt inside. “Please be mine.”
My breath became more shallow as I wondered how to extricate myself from this. This Cal wasn’t the Cal I had known. Had that person ever existed? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that now, here, I had to get away from him. He frightened me. He
repulsed
me.
Just like that, like extinguishing a candle with my fingertips, my leftover love for him died. I felt it in my heart, as if a dark shard of glass had been pulled out, leaving a bleeding wound. My throat closed and I wanted to cry, to mourn for the death of the naive Morgan who had once been so incredibly happy with this falsehood.
“No, Cal,” I said. “I can’t.”
His face darkened, and he looked at me. “Morgan, you’re not thinking clearly,” he said, a tone of warning in his voice. “This is me. I love you. We’re lovers.”
“We were
never
lovers,” I said. “And I don’t love you.”
“Morgan, listen to me,” Cal said.
“You’re too late, Sgàth,” said Hunter’s voice, cold and hard, and Cal and I both jumped. How had he come up without our feeling it?
“There’s nothing for you to hunt here, Gìomanach,” Cal spat. “No lives for you to destroy, no magick you can strip away.”
I felt a wave of power welling up from Cal, and I scrambled off the tombstone. I had once been caught between Cal and Hunter during a battle. I didn’t want to go through it again.
“Hunter, why are you here?” I asked.
“I felt something dark here. I came to investigate,” he said tightly, not taking his eyes off Cal. “It’s my job. It was you who cut the brakes in my car, wasn’t it, Sgàth? You who sawed through the stair supports.”
“That’s right.” Cal grinned at Hunter, a feral baring of teeth. “Don’t you wonder what else is waiting for you?”
“Why didn’t you use magick?” Hunter pressed. “Is it because without Selene, you have nothing of your own? No power? No will?”
Cal’s eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched. “I didn’t use magick because I didn’t want to waste it on you. I am much stronger than you will ever be.”
“Only when you’re with Morgan,” Hunter said coldly. “Not on your own. You’re nothing on your own. Morgan knows that. That’s why she’s here.”
I started to say it was
not,
but Cal turned on me. “You! You lured me here, to turn me in to him.”
“I wanted to talk to you!” I cried. “I had no idea Hunter would be here.”
Hunter turned his implacable gaze on me. “How could you go behind my back after all we’ve talked about?” he asked in a cold, measured voice. “How could you still love
him
?” He flung out his hand at Cal.
“I don’t love him!” I screamed, and in the same instant Cal threw up his hands and began to chant a spell. The language he used was unfamiliar, ugly, full of guttural sounds.
Hunter let out a low growl. I sucked in my breath as I saw that his athame was in his hand, the single sapphire in its hilt flashing as it caught the late winter sun. Stepping back, I saw how he and Cal were facing each other, saw the violence ready to erupt. Damn them! I couldn’t go through this again, not Cal and Hunter trying to kill each other, myself frozen, an athame leaving my hand and sailing through the intense cold. . . .
No. That was another time, another place. Another Morgan. I felt power rise inside me like a storm. I had to put an end to this. I had to.
“Clathna berrin, ne ith rah.”
The ancient Celtic words poured from my lips, and I spat them into the daylight. Hunter and Cal both spun to look at me, their eyes wide.
“Clathna ter, ne fearth ullna stàth,”
I said, my voice growing stronger.
“Morach bis, mea cern, cern mea.”
I knew exactly what I was doing but couldn’t tell where it was coming from or how I knew it. I snapped my arms open wide, to encompass both of them, and watched with a strange, fierce joy as their knees buckled and they sank, one at a time, to the ground.
“Clathna berrin, ne ith rah!”
I shouted, and then they were on their hands and knees, helpless against the force of my will.
Goddess, I thought. I felt like I was outside myself, watching this strange, frightening being who controlled the gravity of a world with her fingertips. My right hand outstretched to keep Cal in place, I slowly moved toward Hunter.
He didn’t speak, but when I saw the blazing fury in his eyes, I knew I couldn’t release him yet. I pointed at him. “Stand up,” I commanded. When I raised my hand, he was able to stand, like a puppet. “Get in my car.”
Stumbling like an automaton, Hunter headed for Das Boot. I walked backward, following him, keeping Cal under my power. Hunter climbed clumsily into the passenger seat, and I fished out my keys with my left hand. Then I drew some sigils in the sky, sigils I didn’t remember learning, that would keep Cal in place until we were well away.
Then I leaped into the driver’s seat, jammed the keys into the ignition, stomped on the gas, and got the hell out of there.
 
I released Hunter after I had parked in front of his house and felt the sudden tightening of his muscles as he took control of them again.
I was afraid to look at him, scared even to think about what I’d done. It was as if I’d been taken over by my power, as if the magick had controlled me instead of the other way around. Or was I just trying to make excuses for having done something unforgivable?
I felt the burning fury of Hunter’s gaze on me. He slammed the car door and walked unsteadily up to his house. I felt weak and headachy from lack of food and too much magick, but I knew I needed to talk to Hunter. I got out of Das Boot and followed him into the house.
Inside, Sky looked up as I came in, and seeing my troubled expression, she pointed wordlessly up the stairs. I’d been upstairs once before but hadn’t really taken in any details. Now I looked into one room: it was Sky’s, or at least I hoped it was since there was a black bra draped across the bed. I walked past a small bathroom with black-and-white tile flooring and then came to the only other room and knew it must be Hunter’s bedroom. The door was ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking: daring Morgan.
He lay across his bed, staring at the ceiling, still wearing his leather jacket and his boots.
“Get out,” he said without looking at me.
I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing I could say right now. Instead I dropped my coat onto the floor and walked to the bed, which was just a full-size mattress and box spring stacked on the floor, neatly made up with a threadbare down comforter.
Hunter tensed and looked at me in disbelief as I lowered myself next to him. I thought he was going to push me right off the bed onto the floor, but he didn’t move, and hesitantly I edged closer to him till I was lying by his side. I put my head on his shoulder and curled myself up next to him, with my arm draped over his chest and my leg across his. His body was rigid. I closed my eyes and tried to sink into him. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured, praying that he would let me stay long enough to really apologize. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I just couldn’t bear to see you hurt each other—or worse. I’m sorry.”
It was a long time before he relaxed at all and longer still before his hand came up to stroke my hair and hold me close to him. It was starting to get dark outside, it was late, and I hadn’t yet drunk the special herb tea I was supposed to drink before my
tàth meànma brach
. But I lay there with Hunter slowly stroking my hair, feeling like I had found a special sort of refuge, a safe haven completely different from what I had experienced with Cal. I didn’t know if Hunter would ever be able to forgive me; I had never been able to truly forgive Cal for doing the same thing to me. But I hoped that somehow Hunter was a bigger person than I was, a better person, and would find a way not to hold this against me forever.
It was then I realized how incredibly important his opinion of me was, how much his feelings mattered to me, how desperately I wanted him to care for me, admire me, the way I cared for and admired him.
Finally I took a deep breath and said, “I love you. I want you. This is right.”
And Hunter said, “Yes,” and he kissed me, and it was as if a universe unfolded within me. I felt infinite, timeless, and when I opened my eyes and looked at Hunter, he was outlined in a blaze of golden light, as if he were the sun itself.
Magick.
12
The Brach
February 27, 1980
 
Daniel is in England again. He’s been gone two weeks, and
I’m not sure when he’ll be back. He always comes back,
though. The temptation is strong to cast a summoning spell on him, pulling him to me sooner, but I have resisted, and there’s a satisfaction in knowing that he always comes back because he can’t help himself and not because I forced him to.
Is this marriage? This isn’t my parents’ marriage, quiet and sedate and tandem. When Daniel and I are together, we are shouting, arguing, fighting, and despising each other, and then we are grappling, falling to the bed, making love with intense passion that has as much to do with hate as it does with love. And then in the aftermath I see his beauty once again, not just his physical beauty, but his inner sweetness, the good
ness inside him. I love and appreciate that, even as it clashes
so harshly with what is inside me.
We have moments of calm and gentleness, during which we’re holding hands and kissing sweetly. Then Amyranth raises its head or his studies call him away, and we are again two angry cats tied in a burlap bag and thrown into a river:
desperate, clawing, fighting, trying only to survive no matter
the cost. And he goes away and I immerse myself in Amyranth, and I know I could never give it up. Then I miss Daniel and he comes back, and the cycle starts again.
Is this marriage? It is my marriage.
—SB
 
I’m not sure how long I lay with Hunter. Eventually his even breathing told me he was asleep. I didn’t think he had forgiven me just because I had told him I loved him and he had kissed me. Was I fickle, to love someone else so soon after Cal? Was I setting myself up for another heartbreak? Did Hunter love me? I felt he did. But I had no idea whether we had a future, where our relationship would lead us, how long it would last. These questions would have to wait: now it was time, past time, for me to prepare for the
tàth meànma brach
.
Moving quietly, I uncoiled myself and left the room. Holding my shoes in one hand, I went downstairs. Sky was in the kitchen, reading the newspaper and drinking something hot and steaming in a mug. She looked at me expectantly.

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