Кейт Тирнан - Seeker

SeekerSweep Series, Book 10Cate Tiernan

1. Invitation

Poor Dagda is still clomping around the house in his kitty cast. He has another week before it can come off. In the meantime je keeps giving me baleful stares, as if it were my fault that he ran in front of the car.

Since Hunter dropped the bomb about Skys leas on his parents, Ive been waiting for him to say, Todays the dayIm off. But he hasnt yet. Hunter. He makes me crazy: he keeps me sane. He seems so English sometimes, kind of distant or reserved, but then hell look at me, and his eyes see right through to my soul, and I go all shivery and want to kiss him. He makes me feel safe, and at the same time he makes me feel like Im standing on the edge of a cliff. Does love always feel like this?

 Morgan

Since Skys been gone, Im amazed by what her presence meant in this house.Theres less laundry.Theres more food, but of a less interesting kind. The post is piling upwhy does she get so many bloody catalogs? I always get the good parking spot right in front of the walkway. And the house is quiet: there are no vibrations that tell me Im not alone, that my cousin is with me.

Now Im here, and theres no getting around itmale laundry is boring. I wear jeans and shirts and socks and underwear. Those four things, day and night, summer and winter. Skys clothes are so much more complicatedall sorts of weird girl-type articles of clothing, things I couldnt even name. Morgan doesnt seem to have as many varieties of clothes as Sky. She mostly wears corduroys or jeans, shirts or sweatshirts. Plain underwear, no bra, ever. (Excellent.) Its funnyshe doesnt ever deliberately try to be sexy. She doesnt have to. Just looking at her, in her regular clothes, and knowing what she feels like wrapped around me, pressed hard against me, knowing what her skin feels like, knowing the scent of her, the vibration of her, her aura. . my brain cells start fusing, and I cease being able to form coherent sentences. Like right now.

I still cant get over Sky finding a lead on my parents. Seeing them again is something Ive dreamed of for more than half my life. And now that my employer, the International Council of Witches, has given me permission and helped narrow down their whereabouts, Im ready to go. I just need to make plans.

Alwyn, who was only four when they left, can barely remember them. Linden died trying to see them again. He failed. In some ways, it seems too huge. In the years theyve been gone, my parents have taken on almost mythical proportionswitches say their names with reverence or curiosity or even disdain; they look at me as though their legacy was stamped on my forehead.

This is simultaneously the most exciting and most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. More, even, than our run-in with Ciaran in New York. Or when Morgan shape-shifted into a wolf, tracked me, and almost ripped me apart. Goddess, what weve been through together. . I just wish Morgan could go with me now.

If Sky were here, she would offer to go. I wouldnt let her, though. She is still fairly battered emotionally from her breakup with Raven. Spending time in France will be good for her.

But to have Morgan by my side as I see my parents for the first time in over a decade would make this so much easier. She is practical, powerful, able to face almost anything. I need her so much.

Morgan met me at Practical Magick, one of the areas only occult bookstores. It was a popular Wiccan hangout, and I was good friends with the owner, Alyce Fernbrake. The bells over the door jangled, and I looked up to see Morgan coming toward me, a little smile on her face.

Im over six feet, so Im used to looking down at people, but Morgan always seems to be eye to eye with me. Objectively speaking, though, shes about seven inches shorter than me, which still makes her taller than a lot of women. At seventeen, Morgans face shows no lines of age or wisdom, pain or laughter. Only striking bones, features that seem strong and womanly and intensely attractive. Her eyes are almost frighteningly knowledgeable, her expression solemn, her mouth generous yet not prone to vacuous smiles or asinine giggles. She is one of the most stubborn, strong-willed, prickly, reserved, and irritating people I have ever met. I love her so much, my knees buckle every time shes near.

Hi, she said.

Hi. Lets go in the back.

Morgan and I passed through the tattered orange curtain that separates the back room from the rest of the shop. It fell closed behind us, and then we were standing, looking at each other in the poorly lit room.

Her hair was loose and needed brushing. It fell in unsmooth waves past her elbows, almost to her waist. Her black peacoat was unbuttoned; her jeans flared slightly, with thready bottoms, to the tops of her scuffed leather clogs. Her large, brownish-green eyes watched me, and her strong, classic nose was faintly pink from cold. This was Morgan Rowlands. The daughter of Maeve Riordan, the last, powerful witch of Belwicket, and of Ciaran MacEwan, who was one of the darkest Woodbanes that Wicca had ever known. Adopted daughter of Sean and Mary Grace Rowlands. My love.

My desire for her came with no warning, like a snake striking, and suddenly I pulled her to me by her jacket, pushing my hands beneath the heavy coat and around her back, feeling the sweater she wore. I had a brief glimpse of her startled, uptilted eyes before I closed my own and slanted my mouth across hers, kissing her with an urgency that both scared and embarrassed me.

But Morgan met fire with fire; she has never backed down from anything in the months I have known her, and she didnt push me away with false modesty now. Instead, she clung to me, her arms moving around my waist, and kissed me back, hard, stepping closer to me and putting her feet between mine.

Finally, who knew how long later, we eased apart. I was breathing hard, every muscle in my body tense and wired and urging me forward. Morgans lips were red and soft; her eyes were searching mine.

I missed you, I said, surprised to hear my voice sounding hoarse and breathless. She nodded, her own breath coming quick and shallow. Come on, sit. I led her toward the battered wooden table, and we both sank onto chairs as if we had just finished a marathon. Every bit of idle chitchat I could have summoned fled my brain, and, instead, I just held her hand tightly and blurted out my news.

Im leaving Saturday for Canada, to see my parents.

Morgans dark brown eyes widened, and for a moment she looked afraid. But that impression faded instantly, and I wasnt sure if I had really seen it.

She nodded. Ive been expecting this.

I gave a short laugh. Yeah. The council contacted me again this morning. They actually gave me directions to my parents house. Can you believe that? They think Mum and Da moved about three months ago.

She nodded thoughtfully, not meeting my eyes.

Im driving, I told her. I think itll take about eleven hours. They live in a little town north of Quebec City. Morganwill you go with me?

Surprise lit her eyes, almost immediately replaced by clear longing.

I dont know how long Ill be gone, I said quickly. But if you need to get back before I do, I can put you on a plane or train or rent you a car.

As we held hands across the little table, we both pictured what it would mean. Long, intimate conversations in the car. Hours and hours of time alone together. Being together day and night. Meeting my parents, her being with me during this incredibly meaningful experience. It would take our relationship to a whole new level. I wanted her to say yes so badly.

I want to go, she said slowly. I really want to go. She fell silent again. In her mind, she was probably having an imaginary conversation with her parents. I groaned to myself. What had I been thinking? Her parents dont even allow boys in the house. There was no way theyd let their daughter take off to Canada without at least one chaperone, like wed had in New York. And this would be a much bigger trip.

Her face fell, and I could feel her disappointment because it was mirrored by mine.

I cant, she said. Why am I even thinking about it? Im still trying to get my grades out of the toilet, my parents are still twitchy around the edges, theres no school vacation anytime soonits impossible. Her voice held frustration and impatience.

Its all right, I said, covering her hand with both of mine. Its all right. I just thought Id throw the idea out there. Dont worry about it. There will be plenty of time for us to take trips in the future.

She nodded, unconvinced, and I felt sorry for bringing the subject up, sorry for making her feel guilty that she couldnt accompany me on this important journey. Looking into her face, I brought her palm to my mouth and kissed it. She sighed, and I watched the heat flare in her eyes.

2. Preparation

Goddess, I feel stupid. Stupid and childish and mad and guilty about not being able to go to Canada with Hunter. Why am I only seventeen? After what Ive been through in the last five months, youd think I would be at least twenty-three by now. I cant stand being my age. I want to live in my own place, make all my own decisions, study the craft as much and as openly as Id like. I want to be an adult. I should be an adult. Until I discovered Wicca, Id always assumed Id finish high school, go to college, and get a job that was incredibly satisfying, fun, creative, and that paid a ton of money.

Now the whole rest of my life seems up I the air. Eoife wants me to go to Scotland to study with some important teachers. I want to be with Hunter. My parents expect me to go to college. What for? I have to take the SATs this spring, have to start collecting college brochures. Suddenly everything seems so pointless.

Oh, Hunter, how long will you be gone?

 Morgan

Alyce Fernbrake recommended a friend of hers, Bethany Malone, as someone to lead my coven, Kithic, while I was gone. When I rang her doorbell on Thursday night, I had no idea what to expect and wondered if my being a Seeker would have a negative effect on our meeting.

She opened the door almost immediately. As soon as I saw her, I realized that I had seen her at least a couple of times at various witch gatherings here and there. Bethany was almost as tall as I am, big boned, with large, strong hands and a sturdy-looking body. Her short black hair was fine and straight; her eyes were huge and so dark, they seemed to have no pupils. I guessed her age to be about forty-five.

Hunter Niall, she said, looking at me consideringly. Come in.

Bethany, I greeted her. Thanks for agreeing to see me.

She led me through the short foyer into her lounge. Despite the buildings boxy, modern appearance, Bethany had created her own haven here, and this room was warm and felt familiar.

Im having some wine, she said, getting down a glass. Will you have some?

Yes, thank you, I said, watching her pour the dark, rich fluid. I took the glass and looked into it, inhaling the scents of fruit, tannins, earth, and sun. I drank.

This is terrific, I said, and she smiled and nodded. We sat across from each other, me on the sofa and Bethany in a large, overstuffed chair that was draped with a mohair throw. The room was lit by shaded lamps and several candles; there were herbs hanging in neat rows along one wall. I sipped my wine and felt a bit of the days tension start to melt away.

Alyce told me youre looking for someone to lead your circles for a while, she said.

Yes. Im going out of town. Kithic is a fairly new coven, and Id hate for them to get out of rhythm while Im gone.

Tell me about them, she said, folding her long legs beneath her. Are you all one clan? Im Brightendaledid Alyce mention it?

Yes, she did, and no, we arent, I said. In fact, out of the twelve, only three are blood witchesme, my cousin Sky, and a girl named Morgan Rowlands. And Skys on holiday right now, so there would be only eleven, including you.

Morgan Rowlands, said Bethany. Goodness. Shes in your coven? Whats that like?

I grimaced. Unpredictable. Exciting. Frightening.

Nodding, Bethany swirled the wine in her glass. What about the rest of them?

Theyre all in high school, I explained. Theyve all known each other, more or less, for most of their lives. Widows Vale is a pretty insular town, and there arent many different schools. One girl, Alisa Soto, left the coven recently, but I have a feeling shell be coming back. She was the youngest, at fifteen. The others are Bree Warren, Robbie Gurevitch, Sharon Goodfine, and Ethan Sharp. Theyre all juniors. Simon Bakehouse, Matt Adler, Thalia Cutter, Raven Meltzer, and Jenna Ruiz are all seniors.

So many young people, coming to Wicca, said Bethany. Thats really nice. How sincere do they seem? Are they just flirting with it, or do you think they take it seriously?

Both, I said. Some are more sincere than others. Some are more sincere than they realize. Some are less sincere than they realize. Ill leave it up to you to figure it outI dont want to prejudice you.

Bethany nodded and sipped her wine. Tell me about Morgan.

I paused for a few moments. How to put this? Well, shes powerful, I said lamely. She grew up in a Catholic family. She only started studying Wicca five months agoand only found out about being a blood witch maybe four months ago. And she was, you know, involved with Selene Belltower and her son.

I tried to keep my face neutral as I said this. Cal hadnt been dead long enough. Anytime I thought of Cal and Morgan together, of his convincing her he loved her, of the black plans he and Selene had for her, an overwhelming rage came over me and shattered my usual self-control.

Yes, said Bethany, her dark eyes on me. As with Alyce, I got the impression that she wasnt missing much. Id be interested in meeting her.

In my opinion, I went on, Morgan desperately needs to learn as much as she can as fast as she can. Its nerve-racking being around her, feeling like she could blink and make a building collapse.