"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"What would it take for you to trust Hunter?" David asked. "To trust me?"
My mouth opened, then shut again. I thought about it. Then I said, "Everything I know—almost everything—seems to be secondhand knowledge. People tell me things. I ask questions, and people answer or don't answer. I've read different books that tell me different things about Wicca, about Woodbanes, about magick."
David looked thoughtful. "What do you trust?"
In a conversation I'd had once with Alyce, she'd said that in the end, I really had to trust myself. My inner knowledge. Things that just were.
"I trust me. Most of the time," I added, not wanting to sound arrogant.
"Okay." David sat back, putting his fingertips together. "So you need firsthand information. Well, how do you suggest getting it?"
On my birthday Cal and I had meditated together, joining our minds. Standing, I walked around the table, next to Hunter. I saw the tightening of his muscles, his wariness, his readiness for battle if that was what I offered.
Setting my jaw, focusing my thoughts, I slowly reached out my hand toward Hunter's face. He looked at it guardedly. When I was almost touching him, pale blue sparks leapt from my fingers to his cheek. We all jumped, but I didn't break the contact, and finally I felt his flesh beneath my curled fingertips.
In the street a couple of weeks ago I had brushed past him, and it had been overwhelming: a huge release of emotions so powerful that I had felt ill. It was something like that now, but not as gut-wrenching. I closed my eyes and focused my energy on connecting with Hunter. My senses reached out to touch his, and at first his mind recoiled from me. I waited, barely breathing, and gradually I felt his defenses weaken. His mind opened slightly to let me in.
If he chose to turn on me, I was cooked. Connected like this, I could sense how vulnerable we were to each other. But still I pressed on, feeling Hunter's suspicion, his resistance, and then very slowly his surprise, his acquiescence, his decision to let me in further.
Our thoughts were joined. He saw me and what I knew of my past, and I saw him.
Giomanach. His name was Giomanach. I heard it in Gaelic and English at the same time. His name meant Hunter. He really was a member of the High council. He was a Seeker, and he'd been charged to investigate Cal and Selene for possible misuse of magick.
I almost pulled back in pain, but I stayed with Hunter, feeling him searching my mind, examining my motives, weighing my innocence, my connection to Cal. I felt him wonder if Cal and I had been lovers and was embarrassed when he was relieved that we hadn't.
Our breathing was slight and shallow, noiseless in the deep silence of the little room. This connection was deeper still than the one I had forged with Cal. This was bone deep, soul deep, and we seemed to sift through layer upon layer of connection, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a sunny, grassy field, sitting cross-legged on the ground, with Hunter by my side.
This was nice, and I smiled, felt the sun heat warm my face and hair. Insects buzzed around us, and there was the fresh, sweet smell of clover.
I looked at Hunter, and he at me, and we needed no words. I saw his childhood, saw him with his cousin Athar, who I knew as Sky, felt the agony of his parents' leaving. The depth of his anguish over his brother's death was almost unbearable, though I saw that he had been tried and found not guilty. This was something about which Cal didn't know the truth.
Hunter saw my normal life, the shock of finding out I was a blood witch, the growing sweetness of my love for Cal, the disturbing feelings I'd had about his secret room. I couldn't hide my concern about Mary K. and Bakker, my love for my family, my sorrow over the sadness of my birth mother's life and her unsolved death.
Gradually I realized it was time to go, and I stood up in the field, feeling the grass brush against my bare legs. Hunter and I didn't smile as we said good-bye. We had achieved a new level of trust. He knew I hadn't meant to kill him and that I wasn't part of any larger, darker plan. In Hunter, I had seen pain, anger, even vengefulness, all surrounded by a layer of caution and mistrust—but still, I hadn't seen what I had looked for. I hadn't seen evil.
When I came out of it, I felt light-headed, and David's hand guided me back to my chair. Shyly I glanced up to meet Hunter's eyes.
He looked back at me, seeming as shaken as I was.
"That was interesting," said David, breaking the silence. "Morgan, I didn't know you knew how to join with Hunter's mind, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. What did you learn?"
I cleared my throat. "I saw that Hunter wasn't—bad or anything."
Hunter was looking at David. "She ought not to be able to do that," he said in a low voice. "Only witches with years of training—she got right inside my mind—"
David patted his hand. "I know," he said ruefully.
I leaned across the table toward Hunter. "Well, if you're not evil," I said briskly, "why have you and Sky been stalking me? I saw you two in my yard a week ago. You left sigils all over the place. What were they for?"
Hunter twitched in surprise. "They're protection spells," he said.
Just then the back door, a door I had barely noticed, opened. Its short curtain swung in, and a blast of cold air swirled into the room.
"You!" Sky snapped, staring at me from the doorway. She looked quickly at Hunter, as if to make sure I hadn't been trying to kill him in the last twenty minutes. "What is she doing here?" she demanded of David.
"Just visiting," David said with a smile.
Her black eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't be here," she snarled. "You almost killed him!"
"You made me think I had killed him!" I snapped back. "You knew what had happened, you knew he was alive, yet you let me think he was dead. I've been sick about it!"
She made a disbelieving face. "Not sick enough."
"What were you doing at my house yesterday? Why were you spying on me?"
"Spying? Don't flatter yourself," she said, flinging down her black backpack. "I've had more important things to do."
My eyes widened. "Liar! I saw you yesterday!"
"No, that was me," Hunter put in, and Sky and I both turned to stare at him.
He shrugged. "Keeping tabs."
His arrogance was infuriating. He might not be evil, but he was still a horrible person.
"How dare you—" I began, but Sky interrupted me.
"Of course he's keeping tabs on you!" she snapped. "He's on the council, and you tried to kill him! If another witch hadn't seen what you'd done and sent me a message to go get Hunter, he would have died!"
I exploded, leaping to my feet "What other witch? I was the one who sent you the message that night! I was the one who told you to go get him! And I called 911, too!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Sky said. "You couldn't have sent that message. You're nowhere near strong enough."
"Oh, yes, she is," Hunter said mournfully, leaning his chin on his hand. "She just flushed out my brain. I have no secrets anymore."
Sky gaped at him as if he'd been speaking in tongues. He took careful sips of his tea, not looking at her. "What are you talking about?" Sky asked.
"She did tath meanma," Hunter said, his accent thickening with the Gaelic words. A shiver went down my spine, and I knew instinctively he'd referred to what we had done, the thing I thought of as the "Vulcan mind meld."
Sky was taken aback. "But she can't do that." She stared at me, and I felt like an animal in a zoo. Abruptly I sat down again.
"You're Athar," I said, remembering. "Athar means Sky. Cousin Athar."
No one had much to say to that.
"She's not in league with Cal and Selene," Hunter offered finally. I got angry again.
"Cal and Selene aren't in league with Cal and Selene, either!" I said. "For your info, Cal and I have done.. tath menama—"