“Courtesy of Alyce,” I told him shakily. “I didn’t realize quite how much it hurt. I’m sorry.”
He kissed my forehead and pulled me against him. When I’d stopped trembling, he said, “Would you like to know why we’re sitting here freezing our bums off instead of eating lunch?”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that,” he said. “First, I’m sorry for not answering your messages. It took us a while to find our contact, and then when we finally tracked him down, he was absolutely terrified. He led us through a maze of elaborate safety precautions. If I’d answered you and he’d noticed, he might have thought I was betraying him.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I was just worried about you. Did this guy have any information?”
“Yes,” Hunter said, “he did.”
He paused. The sun, which hadn’t been strong that morning, disappeared behind a band of thick, white clouds.
“So?” I prompted after a moment.
Hunter’s green eyes looked troubled. “I found out who the leader of the New York Amyranth cell is. Apparently the members of the coven wear masks that represent their animal counterparts when they need to draw on the power of that animal. Their leader wears the wolf’s mask. My contact didn’t know them all, but he confirmed that there are also coven members who wear the masks of an owl, a viper, a cougar, a jaguar, and a weasel.”
“So my dream—”
“Was of the New York cell of Amyranth,” Hunter finished. “Yes.”
I shuddered. “Hunter, I had the dream again,” I told him. “It was just about an hour ago, while I was in an occult bookstore down in SoHo.”
“Goddess!” Hunter looked alarmed. “Why didn’t you contact me?” Before I could answer, he let out an exclamation of annoyance. “Stupid question. I wasn’t answering your messages. Morgan, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, it was scary, but this time I knew what it was. I’m not sure why I had it again, though.”
“Perhaps because we’re in New York,” he said. “Or perhaps…” He trailed off, looking still more troubled. Then he reached out and took my hand. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you. Something I learned today. It will bring up painful thoughts for you.”
Icy fingers of dread walked up my spine as I sensed the weight of whatever news Hunter was carrying. I gave him a weak smile. “Go for it.”
“The name of this wolf-masked leader is Ciaran,” he said.
“Ciaran?” I felt sick. “It—it can’t be the same Ciaran. I mean, surely there’s more than one Ciaran in the world.”
“I’m sure there is,” Hunter agreed. “But this Ciaran is a powerful Woodbane witch in his early forties who comes from northern Scotland. I’m sorry, Morgan, but there really isn’t any doubt. He’s the one who killed Maeve and Angus.”
I realized I’d never had any idea of what happened to Ciaran after he set the fire that killed my parents. “I guess I assumed he was back in Scotland,” I said lamely. “But he’s here in New York City?”
Hunter nodded, his eyes on my face. I sat there, trying to process this new information. Ciaran—alive. Here. Within my reach.
Within my reach? What the hell did that mean? I asked myself bitterly. What would I do if I ever came face-to-face with him? Turn and run the other way, if I had any brains at all. He’d been more powerful than Maeve and Angus together. He could crush me like an ant.
“We also found out that Ciaran has three children,” Hunter went on. “Two of them, Kyle and Iona, still live in Scotland. But the youngest is here in New York. You’re not going to believe this.” He paused. “It’s Killian.”
“Killian?” My jaw dropped. “The witch we met last night?”
Hunter nodded grimly. “He was all but sitting in my lap, and I didn’t realize he was the one.”
I downed the last gulp of my now cold coffee. “That’s too much of a coincidence.”
“There are no coincidences,” Hunter reminded me, stating one of those Wiccan axioms that I found so annoying and cryptic.
I thought of the terrified wolf cub in my dream. “That means Killian is Amyranth’s intended victim?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Hunter said.
“Oh God. First Ciaran kills my mother and father; now he’s gunning for his own son.”
“Ciaran gave himself to the darkness a long time ago,” Hunter said. “It’s all of a piece. A man capable of killing the love of his life is capable of killing his own son, too.”
“What else did you find out? Do you know where he lives? What he looks like?”
“None of that. I’ve just told you everything.” Hunter crumpled his empty coffee cup and launched it at a trash container a good fifteen feet away. The cup went in.
He hopped down off the wall and helped me off. “I’ve got to try to find Killian and see if I can suss out why Amyranth wants to drain his power. Maybe he has some sort of special ability they need. In any case, he may have valuable information about the coven, and if I play my cards right, he could become a valuable ally for the council.”
“I’m going with you,” I said impulsively.
Hunter was suddenly holding my upper arms and scowling at me. “Morgan, are you crazy? You can’t come with me—especially now that we know Ciaran is the leader of Amyranth. The last thing I want is for him to become aware of your existence. I wish to God you’d stayed in Widow’s Vale. In fact, I should take you to Port Authority right now. You can catch the next bus back upstate. I can bring your car and your things back in a day or so.”
In a flash we had reverted to our old antagonistic relationship. “Let go of me,” I said, furious. “I don’t take orders from you. When I go back to Widow’s Vale, I’ll be driving my own car, thank you, and I’ll go when I’m ready.”
For a long moment we just glared at each other. I saw Hunter struggling to keep his temper in check.
“If you stay,” he said between his teeth, “you’ve got to give me your word that you’ll keep a low profile. No flashy magick on the street. In fact, while we’re in the city, I want you to avoid any magick that isn’t absolutely necessary. I don’t want you drawing any attention to yourself.”
I knew he was right, much as I hated to admit it. “Okay,” I said sulkily. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” Hunter’s grasp relaxed.
“Be careful,” I said.
He kissed me again. “That’s my line. Be careful. I’ll see you tonight.”
I hurried back to Columbus Avenue. As I neared the restaurant, I passed a father carrying his little son on his shoulders. The boy was laughing, as if it were the greatest treat in the world.
It made me wonder about Killian and his father. Was there ever a time when they were close? What would it be like to be the child of a father who was devoted to evil?
Maybe, I thought, it explained Killian’s recklessness. Maybe he was running away from the darkness. That, I thought with a sigh, I could certainly understand.
Bree and the others were on their way out when I got back to Murray’s.
“Perfect timing,” Bree said as she stepped out of the restaurant. “Do you want to come to the Museum of Modern Art with me and Sky?”
“I opted out,” Raven said. “I’m going to see a movie down in the Village.” I didn’t know Raven well enough to be sure, but she was talking more loudly than usual, and I had a feeling it meant that things between her and Sky were still tense.
I glanced at Robbie. He looked so miserable, I was certain that he hadn’t been invited on the museum trip. I tried to remember: Was Bree always this ruthless in relationships? Or was Robbie getting special treatment because he was the one she actually cared about? Either way, her behavior made me uncomfortable.