Full Circle s-14 Read online

  "I know you've been growing more and more dissatisfied, Gìomanach," he said, using my coven name. "And I know you were very upset at how the council handled telling you about your parents."

  To put it mildly. Just thinking about it made my body tense. "Certainly that's part of it," I said, feeling anger rise up in my chest. "But there have been other problems, Kennet, other disappointments." I let my words hang there in the air for a moment. "The truth is, I feel I can't continue with the council in good faith. Not when I don't believe in it."

  More silence. "Gìomanach, you know it's almost unheard of for anyone to quit the council, especially a Seeker." his voice was soft, but I sensed some anger behind his words.

  "I know," I said. "But I have no choice. So I'm telling you officially-I'm leaving. I can't accept any more assignments. I'm sorry."

  "How about a leave of absence?" Kennet asked carefully. "I could certainly okay that."

  "No."

  "Gìomanach," Kennet said with more authority, "this seems an extreme reaction. Surely it doesn't have to be all or nothing. Would you prefer a different assignment? Or to go to a different place? Perhaps your compensation-"

  "No," I said. "It really isn't about any of that. It's just-the council itself."

  "Would you like me to come there, to talk to you? Perhaps the two of us could come up with a more moderate decision."

  "You can come if you'd like, but I don't feel it would change things," I said.

  Kennet sighed. "I would be remiss not to tell you that this is not a wise move politically. I have no idea what the council's reaction will be, but I can't imagine that it will be positive."

  "I understand," I said. Bugger the council and their reaction. My back ached with tension.

  "As your adviser, I must caution you that you have surely made enemies during your time as a Seeker. The council will no longer be able to offer you protection should any of these people seek revenge."

  I considered his words. It was true that making enemies was part of being a Seeker. Witches themselves, their friends and families-hardly anyone was glad when a Seeker came to call. But what kind of protection was the council able to provide? The council leaders were at odds with one another, working at cross-purposes. The council kept bungling things, kept making the easiest decision instead of the best one. I shook my head silently. There was no way I could rely on their protection anymore, anyway.

  "I'll take my chances." I told Kennet.

  "Gìomanach, as your mentor, I'm asking you to reconsider," he said cajolingly. "You are my protégé, the youngest Seeker the council has ever had. Please tell me you'll at least think more about this decision."

  "No, Kennet," I said. "This is my final answer. I can no longer take part in what the council has become." It was very difficult for me, having to say this. In his day, before the council had started to slip out of hand, Kennet really had been an excellent mentor. I had relied on him a great deal during my first months as a Seeker. But things were different now.

  "I can't tell you how disappointing this is to me personally, as it will ne to the rest of the council," he said, the warmth in his voice leading away. He didn't sound angry now so much as regretful and hurt.

  "I realize that. But I know this is the right thing for me to do."

  "I hope you'll give this further thought," he said, sounding stiff.

  "Good-bye, Kennet."

  Click. I looked at the phone in wonder. He'd hung up without saying good-bye. I hung up and pressed my eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to dispel tension. The conversation had been difficult-every bit as difficult as I'd feared, perhaps worse. But it was done. I had quit the council. I rolled my shoulders, feeling like a huge weight had been removed. I felt relieved but also frightened: I wasn't trained to do anything else.

  Automatically I picked up my phone and rang Morgan. She'd been through the whole decision-making process with me. I knew talking to her now would definitely help. Talking to her always helped.

  "Hello?" Not Morgan.

  "Hi, Mrs. Rowlands," I said to Morgan's mother. "It's Hunter. Is Morgan there, please?"

  "I'm sorry, Hunter-Morgan's taken her sister to a friend's house. Can I have her call you?"

  "Yes, thanks-or I can catch her later. Good-bye, Mrs. Rowlands."

  "Bye, Hunter."

  I hung up and sighed. No mediate Morgan. I rubbed the back of my neck and settled down again, this time to gift some dried lavender with extra soothing properties.

  "Hunter?"

  I looked up to see Alyce, followed by two middle-aged women. One looked slightly older than the other, I'd guess in her late fifties. She was lean and muscled like a former dancer, with crisp silver hair cut in a simple style that just skimmed her jawline. She was wearing off-white canvas pants, loose but not sloppy, a trim T-shirt, and an unconstructed canvas jacket over that. Everything about her showed confidence, maturity, self-control, an acceptance of self.

  The younger woman was a striking contrast. She was perhaps in her early forties but as surrounded by layers of agitation as the first seemed pared down to the essentials. Her layered, wispy skirt and top flowed around her in batiked shades of olive green and soft brown. She was slightly plump. Her heavy makeup was almost like icing.

  Without thinking, I cast out my senses: Alyce was curious but not disturbed. The two women were blood witches. From them I got uncertainty, mistrust, even an edge of fear.

  "Hunter, these women were asking for you," Alyce supplied. She turned to them and gestured to me. "Celia and Robin, this is Hunter Niall."

  The two women exchanged glances, and then, as if making a decision, the older woman nodded. "Thank you, Alyce," she said. It was a gentle dismissal, and Alyce raised her eye-brows at me when they couldn't see her, then left.

  I took a moment to examine them with ingrained Seeker thoroughness. They both had relatively weak energy patterns-they were blood witches, but not powerhouses.

  The older woman stepped forward. "I'm Celia Evans," she said in a smooth, modulated voice. She held out her hand, and I rose to shake it. Her grip was firm but not aggressive. "And this is Robin Goodacre." She gestured to her companion, who then stepped forward. Where Celia projected calm and confidence, Robin projected a fluttery distraction that I instinctively felt came from insecurity, or nonacceptance of herself.

  I shook Robin's hand. "Hello," she said, in a nervous, breathless voice. I wondered what her relationship was to Celia.

  "Hello," I said. There were a couple of unmatched chairs in the corner, and I pulled them over, then sat down again at my table. I gestured for the two women to sit, and they did.

  "Can I help you with something?"

  "Well, we've heard about you as a…ah…" Robin began, then seemed to get stymied by self-consciousness.

  Celia took over. "We've come to see you because we've heard that you're-experienced with good magick and with…dark magick."

  Hmmm. I nodded and waited for her to go on.

  "Like the dark wave, for instance," Celia continued, beginning to seem slightly uncomfortable. "Or perhaps other kinds of dark magick."

  Oh. Of course. "You need a Seeker?" I asked, and Robin visibly pulled back.

  Celia looked alarmed. "We need…someone to help us. Someone who would recognize what might be dark magick. And maybe know what to do about it."

  "Well, I'm sorry, but I no longer work for the council. I could put you in touch with someone, though."

  "Actually," Celia said slowly, "we hadn't realized you were a Seeker. We wouldn't have come if we'd known. It's much better for us that you're not a Seeker, not part of the council. Honestly, we need help, and we don't know where to find it."

  Robin's plump hands fluttered around her skirt, playing with its folds. "It has to be the right kind of help," she said earnestly. "We can't make matters worse. But we don't know what to do." She twisted her hands together, her chunky rings clicking. "We heard you had experience with all kinds of things. We heard…you could
be trusted."

  That was interesting. I looked from Robin's round, earnest face, the distress in her brown eyes, to Celia's barely concealed tension.

  "Can I ask who referred you to me?"

  "Joanna Silversmith," said Celia. "Of Knotworthy. We went to school together."

  Her name sounded familiar, but I didn't think I knew her personally. Knotworthy was a coven back in England, so maybe I had run across her there.

  "Can you tell me a few more specifics about your problem?" I asked gently. "Then if I can't help you, maybe I'll know someone who can."

  "It's our coven leader," Celia said, and took a deep breath. "We think she may be involved with dark magick."

  3. Morgan

  As I had done hundreds of times before, I parked my beloved Valiant, Das Boot, at the curb by my best friend Bree Warren's house and walked up the stone path to the double front doors. I rang the bell, and the door was opened almost instantly by Thalia Cutter, one of the other coven members. Our coven, Kithic, had the ideal number ofmembers, thirteen: our leader and my boyfriend, Hunter Niall, Bree, Robbie Gurevitch, Sharon Goodfine, Ethan Sharp, Simon Bakehouse, Thalia, Jenna Ruiz, Raven Meltzer, Alisa Soto (our youngest member), Hunter's cousin, Sky, who was in England right now, Matt Adler, and me. I had known most of these people my whole life. Bree and Robbie had been my best friends since first grade. Sharon, Jenna, Matt, Ethan, and Alisa all went to my high school. Thalia and Simon went to the other high school in town.

  "Hi," said Thalia. Her long, wavy hair hung almost to her waist, and her oval face was smooth and serene. "Come on in. Bree's in the kitchen. We're setting up in the pool house."

  "Okay." From experience we'd found that at Bree's, the slate patio in her pool's enclosure was best for channeling energy. I headed for the kitchen and passed Ethan carrying a talk pillar candle. Bree called after him, "Wait-take a paper plate to put it on. If we get wax on the slate, we'll never get it off."

  Ethan took the plate from her, smiled a greeting at me,and went out.

  "Hi," I called, walking into the Warrens' huge kitchen. Bree, looking beautiful as usual, was arranging some cut fruit on a plate. Her fine, mink-dark hair had grown out a bit and fell in feathery layers past her shoulders. I sighed. It wasn't easy being best friends with someone who looked like a model. We're talking high cheekbones, fabulous body, the works. Always impossibly, sophisticatedly hip, she was wearing an Indian-print cotton skirt that hung several inches below her belly button and a white peasant top that showed perfect, ivory skin both above and below.

  I tried not to look down at my own ensemble of jeans and T-shirt. I was just about to start feeling bummed when I remembered Hunter- incredibly hot and irresistible Hunter-and the fact that he didn't seem able to keep his hands off me.

  "Look-Bree's making food from scratch," said Robbie, cutting up fresh pineapple at one end of the Corian counter.

  "Oh, so witty," said Bree, but she smiled at him, and he smiled back. It was obvious how strongly the felt about each other. She went back to artistically placing strawberries on the platter.

  "That looks great," I said, inhaling the topical scent of pineapple, heavy in the air. Now that spring had finally sprung, I was relishing the lighter clothes, the warmer weather, the longer days. It had been a long, dark winter, in more ways than one. I was looking forward to being in the light again.

  "Hi," said Alisa, entering the kitchen. Her wavy, caramel-streaked hair was pulled back off her face, emphasizing her huge dark eyes. "Can I help with anything?"

  "Thanks, I think we're about ready," Bree said. "As soon as everyone's here, we can start."

  Alisa and I trailed out of the kitchen. We'd had kind of an up-and- down relationship in the months since Kithic had formed. Things had been difficult for Alisa lately. She had recently found out that she was half blood witch on her mother's side, which had really freaked her out. A few weeks ago she'd run away, partly to find her late mother's family in Gloucester, a family of full blood witches. The trip had wrecked havoc on her home life-her dad had had a fit-but in some way it seemed that she had found what she was looking for. These days she seemed happier, more centered. I don't know whether she was doing dances of joy over being a blood witch, but she seemed to have accepted it.

  "How's it going?" I asked her in the hallway. The last circle that Alisa had attended had been a little strange. She had Bern stressed out, and since she had trouble controlling her powers, that stress had made all of the faucets in Hunter's house spew uncontrollably. Eventually his house had practically flooded. She had been really upset.

  "Not too bad," she said. "Things are a tiny bit better at home-Hilary's stopped barfing, so that's good. And get this-she's quit calling me the flower girl. I'm now a real bridesmaid."

  "Way to go," I said, and we both grinned. Her father was marrying his pregnant girlfriend soon. Hilary was only about ten years older than Alisa, and they'd had a really rocky start. But it sounded like her stepmother-to-be was getting more "At least she's trying," Alisa said, "and I've been trying, too. Not that it's easy. But she agreed to alter my dress so I won't have that huge bow across my butt anymore."

  "Excellent," I said. We'd stopped beneath a weird abstract oil painting right outside Mr. Warren's home office. "What about your room?"

  "Dad's buying me a new bed for my new room," Alisa reported. Hilary had made her move out of her old room so she could be closer to the baby. "Oh, you know, Dad said I could invite a guest to the wedding."

  "Hmmm, like Charlie of Gloucester?" I said, raising my eyebrows suggestively. Alisa smiled and looked a little embarrassed. One of the people Alisa had met in Gloucester was Charlie, a member of her mother's family's coven and a cute, funny, attractive blood witch. He and Alisa kept up through e-mail.

  "No," Alisa whispered. "I'm sure Charlie wouldn't be able to come all this way. But I want Mary K. to come-I've called her twice, but she's never home."

  And she obviously hadn't returned Alisa's calls. My sister was still pretty uncomfortable with the whole Wicca/blood witch thing, though she seemed to have accepted it as far as I was concerned. Maybe finding out that her best friend was some kind of weird, wichy creature, in addition to her sister, was just too much for her. Mary K.'d been really upset when Alisa had discovered her heritage. I hoped she wouldn't give up on their friendship.

  "She's been seeing Mark Chambers a lot lately," I said neutrally. "But I'll remind her."

  "Thanks."

  Matt passed us on the way to the pool house and said hey, and then Raven stomped down the hallway in her Doc Martens. She was wearing a vintage rayon dress with huge gaps held together by safety pins. This, her cornrowed black hair, and her clunky shoes added up to a picture that was totally Raven.

  Then the back of my neck tingled, and a whole cascade of responses, emotional and physical, burst through me like sparks. My head was already swivelling as Hunter said, "Morgan?"

  He was standing at the foyer entrance to the hall. Alisa melted away toward the pool, and I tried not to run and fling myself into Hunter's arms. I'd spoken to him just before dinner, and he'd told me that he'd finally truly quit the council. I was dying to talk to him. Among other things.

  "Hi," I said, walking toward him, admiring my incredible self-restraint. He came to meet me halfway, and then my restraint broke loose. I put my arms around him, backed down the hallway, and drew him into Mr. Warren's office. With the door shut behind us, I let my huge, goofy smile show. He drew me closer, smiling also, and then he bent down and I went on tiptoe to meet his kiss. I pressed closer to him, molding myself against his lean body, feeling the strength of his arms as he held me tightly. My hand reached up to touch the short, light blond hair at the back of his neck, and my fingers traced the smoothness of the skin there. Hunter. Everything about him spoke to me. The timbre of his voice, the scent of his skin, the depth of his green eyes. The way his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed when he was angry. The sound of his breathing when we were making out on his bed.
The pressure of his hand as he splayed his fingers across my back, urging me closer. His quirky, dry sense of humor. His incredible intelligence. His strong and controlled magick. I admired and respected him. I felt incredibly tender love and incredibly strong desire for him. I trusted him implicitly. I shivered as Hunter pushed his knee between my legs. I coiled one leg around him as we kept kissing each other over and over, as if we'd been separated for a year instead of a day. I wanted to drink him in, imprint him on my skin, be warmed by his touch.

  Eventually we slowed down and came up for air. My lips felt swollen, and I was breathing hard. Hunter's eyes glittered down at me.

  "Well, hello to you, too," he said in his soft English accent. "Did you miss me?"

  I grinned and nodded slowly. "Just a little. But enough about me. Tell me everything that happened with Kennet."

  Hunter shook his head and let out a breath. "I told him I was quitting. He said witches don't quit the council. I said I did. He asked if I'd consider it a leave of absence. I said I quit. He said I would no longer have the council's protection and that I had made a lot of enemies, being a Seeker."

  "Nice," I said with a grimace. "Glad he was so understanding and supportive."

  He shrugged. "He wasn't bad, really. I suppose he didn't know what to do."

  I stood close to him and rested my head against his chest. I heard the strong, steady beat of his heart. "I'm sorry," I said. "But how do you feel about it? Are you glad you did it?"

  "I don't think I should reconsider," Hunter said, stroking my back. "I gave quitting a lot of thought. I know it's right for me."

  I leaned up and kissed his cheek. "We should probably get back to the others, but if you want to talk about this more later, we should, okay?" I asked.

  He nodded, his chin against the top of my head. His fingers trailed smoothly down my shirt.

  "Where's Morgan?" I heard Sharon say out in the hall. "Didn't you say she was here? Isn't Hunter coming?"

  We waited until the hallway was quiet, then slipped out. I ducked into the powder room, and Hunter headed to the pool house as if he'd just gotten here. Quickly I splashed water on my face, seeing the flush of Hunter's kisses there. Then I pushed my brown hair off my shoulders and went to join the others.