"I didn't mean to," he said.
A car door opened, then slammed shut, then opened, and Mary K.'s voice said, "Bakker!" Her tone was shrill, alarmed.
Before the door slammed shut again, I was running across the yard to find Mary K., with Hunter right behind me.
Bakker had parked in front of our house. Inside the dark car I caught glimpses of arms and legs and the auburn flash of my sister's hair. I yanked the car door open, spilling Mary K. on her back into the snow, her legs up on the car seat.
Hunter reached down to help Mary K. up. Tear tracks were already frosting on my sister's face, and one of her jacket's buttons had been ripped. She was starting to cry and hiccup at the same time. "M-M-Morgan," she stammered. I leaned into the car to glare at Bakker.
"You stupid bastard," I said in a low, mean voice. I felt cold with rage. If I'd had an athame right then, I would have stabbed him.
"Stay out of it," he said, sounding upset. He had scratch marks on one cheek. "Mary K.!" he called, shifting in his seat as if he would get out. "Come back—we need to talk."
"If you ever look at, touch, talk to, or stand next to my sister again," I said very softly, "I'll make you sorry you were ever born." I didn't feel at all afraid or panicky: I wanted him to get out of the car and come after me so I could rip him apart.
His face turned red with anger. "You don't scare me with all that witch crap," he spat.
An evil smile snaked across my face. "Oh, but I should," I whispered, and watched the color drain from his cheeks. I narrowed my eyes at him for a second, then drew out of the car and slammed the door shut.
Hunter was watching us from a few feet away. Mary K. was holding his arm, and now she blinked up at him, saying, "I know you."
"I'm Hunter," he said as Bakker peeled away, burning rubber.
"Come on, Mary K.," I said, taking her arm and leading her toward the house. I didn't want to look at Hunter—I was still trying to process that almost kiss.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hugging Mary K. to my side as we went up the steps.
"Yes," she said shakily. "Just get me upstairs."
"Will do."
"I'll see you later, Morgan," said Hunter. I didn't reply.
CHAPTER 13
The Circle
Giomanach is alive. Back from the dead. Dammit! Having the council's dog breathing down our necks could ruin everything. I need to take care of him. It's my responsibility.
I'll put the braigh on him, around his neck, and he can see how it feels.
— Sgath
The next day Mary K. came into the family room as I was researching correspondences on the computer. There were dozens of Wiccan sites on-line, and I loved cruising from one to another.
"Morgan?"
"Yeah? Hey." I turned to look at her. Head hanging down, she looked uncharacteristically drawn and defenseless. I stopped what I was doing and pulled her into a tight hug.
"Why did he do it?" she whispered, her tears making my cheeks wet. "He says he loves me. Why does he try to hurt me?"
A rage began to boil in me. Was there some kind of spell I could do to Bakker that would teach him a lesson?
"I don't know," I told her. "He can't take no for an answer. Somehow he doesn't mind hurting you."
"He does mind," Mary K. cried. "He doesn't want to hurt me. But he always does."
"If he can't control himself, he needs help," I said slowly and carefully. "He needs to be in therapy. He's going to end up killing someone someday, a girlfriend or a wife." I pulled away and looked my sister in the eyes. "And Mary K.? That person will not be you. Understand?"
She looked at me helplessly, her eyes awash with tears. I shook her shoulders gently, once, twice, until she nodded.
"It won't be me," she said.
"It's over this time," I said. "Right?"
"Right," she said, but her eyes slid away, and I swore to myself.
"Do you want to tell Mom and Dad about him, or should I?" I said briskly.
"Oh, uh…"
"I'll tell them," I said, setting off to find them. In my opinion, keeping this a secret only made it more likely it would happen again. If my folks knew, Mary K. would have a harder time forgiving Bakker and going back to him again.
My parents did not take it well. They were angry with me for not telling them sooner, furious with Mary K. for continuing to see Bakker after the first time, and almost murderous in their rage toward Bakker, which cheered me up. In the end there was a big group hug, complete with tears and sobbing.
Half an hour later I paced off a small plot in the backyard, where my parents had agreed I could have a garden. The ground was too hard to dig, but I hammered in stakes and string to show where next spring's herbs would be. Then I sat on the snowy ground and tried to meditate for a while, clearing my mind and sending good thoughts into the earth below me, thanking it for being receptive to my garden. Feeling refreshed, I went back inside to look for a spell to put on Bakker.
Technically, of course, I wasn't supposed to do spells. I wasn't initiated, and I'd been a student for barely a couple of months. So I wasn't committed to spelling Bakker. But if the necessity arose…
Once more we had turkey sandwiches for dinner. I was approaching my saturation point with turkey and was glad to see the carcass was almost bare.
"Any plans for tonight?" my mom asked me.
"Cal's going to pick me up," I said. "Then we're going to Ethan's." Mom nodded, and I could almost see her weighing my boyfriend against Mary K.'s. On the one hand, Cal was Wiccan. On the other hand, he had never hurt me.
By the time Cal rang our doorbell, I had dressed in faded gray cords and the purple batik blouse he had given me for my birthday. I'd French braided my hair to the nape of my neck, then let the rest hang down. In the mirror I looked excited, pink cheeked, almost pretty: a vastly different creature than the Morgan I had been two months ago and a different Morgan than just two days ago. Now I knew I wasn't a murderer. I knew I wasn't guilty. I could breathe again, and enjoy life, without Hunter's death hanging over me.
"Hi!" I greeted Cal, shuffling into my coat. I said goodbye to my parents, and we walked down the salt-strewn pathway to the Explorer. In the dark car he leaned over and kissed me, and I welcomed his familiar touch, the faint scent of incense that clung to his jacket, the warmth of his skin.
"How's Mary K.?"
"So-so." I rocked my hand back and forth. I'd told him the gist of what had happened last night, omitting the Hunter part. "I've decided to fix it so that every time Bakker speaks, a toad or snake will slither from his mouth."
Cal laughed and turned onto the main street that would take us to Ethan's. "You are one bloodthirsty woman," he said. Then he flicked me a serious glance. "No spells, okay? Or at least please talk to me about them first."
"I'll try," I said with exaggerated virtue, and he laughed again.
He parked in back of Robbie's red Beetle outside Ethan's house and turned to me again. "I haven't seen you in days, it feels like." He looped his hand around my neck and pulled me closer for a breathless kiss.
"Just one day," I answered, kissing him back.
"I wanted to ask you—what did you think about my Seomar?"