"Unless David made mistakes, got involved with forces he can't control, lost his power over what was supposed to happen," Hunter said. "The darkness is not predictable. It often has effects beyond the immediate, planned ones."
He sounded so self-righteous that I lost my temper and words shot out of my mouth. "You know what? I think being a Seeker makes you suspicious of everyone. I think you're furious because Cal and Selene escaped, so now you're determined to get someone else. David just happens to be a convenient target."
The brakes squealed as Hunter suddenly swerved and pulled off the road. I barely had time to brace myself before he cut off the engine and turned to face me, his eyes blazing with anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about! Do you think this a game for me, where I cut notches in my belt for every renegade witch I run in? Do you think I get off on going after other witches?"
My own temper caught fire. "You do it, though, don't you? You chose it."
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and one hand clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles white. Then Hunter relaxed suddenly, releasing the tension from his body on a deep breath. He rubbed his hand over his chin, the way he did when he was thinking. The car was filled with the vanishing traces of our anger, our quiet breathing. The air seemed alive and crackling and it occurred to me that when I was with Hunter, I literally felt more alive. Probably because I was so often angry at him. But when I was with him, I didn't have time to be crushed with sorrow over Cal.
"Morgan, it's important to me that you understand that what you accused me of—is not true," Hunter said, his voice low. "That's not what being a Seeker is. If the council even suspected me of acting that way, they'd strip me of my powers in a heartbeat. I don't understand how you could think that of me."
His gentle answer made me ashamed. "Okay," I said. "Maybe I was wrong." I've always been a rotten apologizer. It was one of the things I wanted to work on.
"Maybe?" He shook his head and started the car again. Neither one of us spoke after that until we were almost at Unser's. We drove past the entrance to the Afton Enterprises gravel pit and I saw him turn his head to read the sign. When he faced front again, he was frowning.
We pulled Into Unser's yard. "Is this where you felt that dark energy?" Hunter asked me, his frown deepening. "Right here?"
"Yes," I said, puzzled.
"What day was it?" Hunter asked.
"Last Wednesday," I said, but then I saw Das Boot parked over to the side, and I forgot everything else. My beloved white car had a new hood and new bumper, but the hood was blue.
"Oh my God," I gasped. "My car!" Bob Unser heard Hunter's car and came out of the garage, wiping his hands on a rag. Max, the German shepherd, loped out at his side, grinning amiably. Hunter and I climbed out of his car, and I walked slowly to my Valiant, feeling like I was about to cry.
Bob looked over Das Boot with pride. "Good fit, huh?" he asked. "That hood is perfect. We got lucky."
I was speechless. The two front sides of my car had been hammered out and covered with Bondo body filler to fix the crumpling. The Bondo was sanded and looked like steel-gray dusty spackle all over the front of my car. And the hood was blue. The bumper looked all right, but was unusually shiny and looked out of place. My beautiful, lifesaving car looked like crap.
"Uh. . uh. ." I began, wondering if I was going to hyperventilate. After losing my boyfriend, almost being killed, having my magick disappear on me in a circle, worrying about David Redstone; now, ridiculously, what was finally sending me over the edge was owing my parents almost a thousand dollars so my car could look like crap.
Hunter patted my shoulder. "It's just a car," he offered hesitantly.
I couldn't even respond. My mouth just hung open. Bob gave me a look. "Course, it needs to be painted," he said.
"Painted?" I was amazed at how calm my voice was.
"I didn't want to do that without talking to you," he explained, scratching his head. "We can paint it white, to match the rest of the car, but to tell you the truth, the whole car needs a paint job. See those bits of rust under the door? We should really sand those out, give it a coat of rust protector, then paint the whole body. If we Bondo the other dings, this car could look brand-new." The idea seemed to fill him with enthusiasm.
"How much?" I whispered.
"Another four hundred, five hundred, max," he said.
I gulped and nodded. "Um, does it run okay?"
"Sure. I had to tighten the engine block a bit, knock a few hoses tighter. But this baby's a tank. It was mostly bodywork."
Max panted his agreement.
Silently I handed Bob Unser the check my mother had made out, and he dropped the keys into my hand. "Let me think about the paint job," I said.
"Sure thing. Take care of this car, now." He headed back into the warmth of the garage, and I turned to face Hunter, it was dark now, but I could still see Das Boot's tricolor nose, and it made me incredibly upset.
"I'm sorry about your car," Hunter said. "I'm sure it will be fine."
I closed my eyes and nodded. It was obvious he didn't understand at all.
16. Uncertain
The witch from Boston came today. We spent the morning purifying Selene Belltower's house. But we had no luck getting in her library. In fact, this time I couldn't even find the door.
Then, in the afternoon, I fought with Morgan. I pushed her too hard about David. She's resisting me all the way. And why not, when it seems I'm doing nothing but persecute the people she cares for? Am I trying to make her hate me?
No, it's not that simple. I need her to be able to face the truth, even when it's ugly or sinful. I need her to believe in her own strength, the strength that I see every time I look at her.
I've never met anyone who affects me the way she does. We argued today, and the things she said were so wrong and hurtful I wanted to shake her. But then, later, when she saw what the mechanic had done to that old wreck of a car she drives, she looked so shattered, so utterly forlorn, that it was all I could do not to take her in my arms and kiss away the tears.
— Giomanach
In my hideous, piebald car, I drove to a fabric shop to get gold cloth and crimson embroidery thread. I needed them for the protection charm I was going to make for Aunt Eileen and Paula. It would be a little pouch embroidered with the rune Eolh, containing herbs and a crystal.
After that I drove to my mom's realty office. Das Boot no longer made a grinding metallic noise; in fact, the engine sounded perfect. But I was ashamed of how my beloved car looked. I parked at an angle and tried not to look at the nose as I walked to Mom's office.
Widow's Vale Realty was in a small, white-shingled building. Inside, the look was deliberately cozy, with polished hardwood floors, lots of plants, and arts-and-crafts-style rugs and furniture.
"Oh, Morgan, honey. Hi. Did you get your car?" My mom peered out from a desk piled high with three-ring binders, file folders, and loose computer printouts. She looked overworked and overwhelmed. I sighed. I was glad I'd be able to help.
"Yes," I said. "It's fixed. But please don't make me talk about how it looks."
My mom tried unsuccessfully to bite back a smile. A non-car lover, like Hunter. What strange creatures they were.