"Fine, then get over yourself and listen for a minute. What Hunter does is harder on him that it is on anyone else."

"Then why does he do it?" I choked out the question. "Why?"

Sky thrust her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "In large part because of Linden's death. He still feels responsible. Being a Seeker is Hunter's atonement. He feels that if he can protect others from courting the dark, then maybe his brother's death won't be in vain. But it eats him alive whenever he has to do something like what he did to David."

The wind picked up, and I pulled my collar higher. "It sounds like he's punishing himself."

"I believe that's true," she admitted. "Even though the council acquitted him of all responsibility in Linden's death. Hunter's like a pit bull. He doesn't let go of anything—not the good or the bad. He'll be loyal to the death, but he'll also carry every grief with him to the grave."

We were drawing closer to another strip mall. There were neon lights, cars, people hurrying into stores. It seemed so strange that the normal world existed so close to the woods where David had been just bound by an ancient and terrible magick.

"I still don't see how Hunter can stand to be a Seeker," I said. "It's as if he's chosen to always be miserable."

Sky turned to face me. "There's another way to look at it, you know. Hunter's seen the destruction and grief caused by the dark side, and he's dedicated his life to fighting it. He's fighting the good fight, Morgan. How can you hate him for that?"

"I can't." I said quietly. "I don't."

"There's something else," she went on. "As the only surviving descendent of Belwicket, you must realize how vital it is that you help him in this fight. We can't let the dark wave win."

I shook my head, feeling dazed. "I thought I was finally okay with all of this—being a blood witch, being adopted, even dealing with Cal and what he did to me. Now there's this war against the dark side, too."

"Yes," Sky said. "And it's as dreadful and painful as any war ever fought. I'm sorry you're caught in it."

"My family doesn't even know the dark side exists."

"I wouldn't say that. They're Catholics, aren't they? The Church has a pretty well-defined notion of evil. They just give it different names than we do and use different means to deal with it. Darkness and evil have always been part of the world, Morgan."

"And I just lucked into getting close to it?"

Sky smiled. "Something like that. The only comfort is knowing you're not alone in the fight." She nodded toward a phone booth at the end of the strip mall. "I told Hunter to take David home. We'd better call someone if we're ever going to get home from here. How about Bree?"

I dug some change out of my pocket. "I'll call her."

Bree came and got us and drove us home. I went to sleep at once, and the next day I lay low at school. I avoided everyone in the coven, even avoided friends who weren't part of my Wiccan life. I was aching everywhere. I felt beaten, hurt, betrayed by my own birthright. I couldn't help thinking of that first circle with Cal. Wicca had been so beautiful to me. Now it was wound through with pain.

After school I drove Mary K. home and immediately shut myself in my room to do homework—calculus and history and English, all of it reassuringly mundane. I wanted nothing to do with magick. Mary K. poked her head in at one point, told me she was going out with her friend Darcy and that she'd be home in time for dinner.

It was my turn to cook, so at five-thirty I went down to the kitchen and started rummaging through the pantry and freezer. I found some ground beef, onions, canned tomatoes, garlic, a can of mild green chilies, and a box of cornbread mix.

I was putting diced onions into the cast-iron skillet when I sensed Hunter's presence. Dammit, I thought, what do you want now? Resigned, I turned off the flame beneath the pan.

Hunter was coming up the walk when I opened the door. He looked drained.

"I'm making dinner," I said. I turned around and went into the kitchen. I knew he was hurting, but I couldn't bring myself to even look at him. Despite what Sky had told me, despite what I knew in my own heart, all I could see right now was the Seeker.

He followed me into the kitchen. I turned the burner back on beneath the skillet and started chopping up the tomatoes.

"I came to see if you were all right," Hunter said. "I know yesterday was rough on you."

"It doesn't look like it was great for you, either." He moved as if he were badly beaten up.

"It's always hard," he said in a low voice. "And I didn't manage to deflect all the witch fire he shot at me."

I was surprised to realize how much the thought of him being hurt scared me. "Are you all right?" I asked.

"I'll heal."

I added the chilies and tomatoes to the pan and poured the cornbread mix into a bowl.

"I've got bad news," Hunter said. "I've heard from the council. They've passed sentence on David."

I dropped the wooden spoon I was holding. Hunter reached for it in the same instant that I did. He caught it and handed it to me.

"David must be bound and his magick stripped from him." Hunter's jaw trembled as he spoke, and I knew with certainty that this was harder on him than on anyone, except maybe, in this case, David. David had once told me that witches can lose their minds if they can't practice magick.

"So the council strips him?" I asked.

Hunter's face looked harsh beneath the kitchen's fluorescents. "I do. Tomorrow at sunset at my house. I'll need witnesses. Four of them—blood witches."

I stared at him, seeing the pain on his face, and knew what he wanted to ask me.

"No," I said, backing away from him. "You can't ask me to be part of that."

"Morgan," he said gently.

Suddenly I was crying, unable to hold it back anymore. "I hate this," I sobbed. "I hate it if having magick means I have to be part of this. I never asked for this. I'm tired and I hurt and I don't want to hurt anymore."

"I know," Hunter told me, his own voice breaking. His arms wrapped around me, and I let myself fall onto his chest. When I looked up, I saw that his eyes were wet with tears. "I'm so sorry, Morgan."

At that moment I remembered something Cal had told me: that there is beauty and darkness in everything. Sorrow in joy, life in death, thorns on the rose. I knew then that I could not escape pain and torment any more than I could give up joy and beauty.

I clung to Hunter, sobbing, in the middle of my kitchen. He murmured nonsense words and stroked my hair gently. Finally my sobs quieted, and I pulled away. Wiping my eyes, I turned the heat off under the frying pan before it all burned.

Hunter drew a deep breath and brushed a tear from my cheek "Look at us. Two kick-ass witches falling to pieces."

I reached for a tissue on the counter and blew my nose. "I must look like hell."

"No. You look like someone who has the courage to face even what breaks your heart, and I find you. . beautiful."

Then his mouth found mine and we were kissing. At first the kiss was gentle, reassuring, but then something in me took over, and I pressed against him with an urgency and intensity that shook us both. It was as though there was something in Hunter I wanted with a hunger I barely recognized—something in him I needed the way I needed air to breathe. And clearly he felt that way, too.

When we pulled back, my mouth felt swollen, my eyes huge. "Oh," I said.

"Oh, indeed," he said softly.

We stood there for a long moment, looking at each other as if we were seeing each other for the first time. My heart was beating like crazy, and I was wondering what to say when I heard my dad's car pulling into the driveway.

"Well." Hunter ran a hand through his hair. "I'd better go."

"Yes."