I couldn’t believe she was serious. I argued, cajoled, begged. I told her to take time to consider. I said we’d find a gentle way to go forward together, that, of course, I would provide for my family. But no matter what I said, I could not dissuade her. She who had been so soft, so yielding, was suddenly like iron.
My soul is shattered. Tomorrow I return to Scotland.
— Neimhidh
When we got back to Ninth Avenue, Robbie took off on his own. I went back to Bree’s father’s place. We hadn’t made any group plans for the evening, and the apartment was empty. For a while I couldn’t settle down. I was too revved up—from the news about Ciaran being here in the city, from having found Maeve’s old building. Was the watch still there? I wondered. If it was, would I be able to find it? I tried to scry for it, but I was too wired to concentrate. Finally I curled up with the book on scrying that I’d bought in SoHo and read for a while.
The sun had almost set when I sensed Hunter walking down the hall. I couldn’t quite believe my luck. Were we really going to have a chance to be alone together in the apartment? I rushed into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth and my hair.
But the moment Hunter opened the door, I realized this was not going to be a romantic interlude. He walked in, took off his scarf and jacket, gave me a curt nod, then went to stare morosely out the window.
I went to stand beside him. Despite his mood, I immediately tuned in to our connection. I couldn’t have defined either of them, but this was completely different from my connection with the man in the bookstore. Hunter touched everything in me. It was a delicious tease to stand near him, not physically touching, and let myself feel how his presence stroked my every nerve ending into a state of total anticipation.
He reached out and caught my hand in his. “Don’t,” he said gently. “I can’t be with you that way right now.”
“What happened?” I asked, feeling a twinge of alarm. “What went wrong?”
“My finding Killian. I didn’t. Either he got wind of the fact that a council Seeker is looking for him or Amyranth has already snatched him because I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Did you try—”
Hunter began to pace the length of the living room. “I found his flat, rang his doorbell and his phone. I went to the club, found out the names of some of his friends, and asked them. I’ve sent him witch messages. He doesn’t answer any of them. I even took out my lueg and scryed right on the street. That’s how desperate I was for a lead—any lead. And none of it has done a bit of good,” he finished bitterly.
He dropped onto the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “I simply don’t know where to go next with this. I’m going to have to contact the council again.”
“Want me to try scrying?”
“I’ve scryed my way to Samhain and back again and I haven’t seen a trace of Killian.”
“I know. But I scry with fire,” I reminded him. “I might get a different result.”
He shrugged and reached for a thick, ivory candle on the coffee table—one that Bree must have bought the day before—and pushed it toward me. “Be my guest,” he said, but his voice was skeptical.
I settled myself cross-legged on the floor. I focused on my breathing, but my thoughts didn’t slip away as easily as they usually did. I wondered if I’d be able to transfer what I’d done with the crystal to fire. Whether this time I’d be able to control the vision.
“Morgan?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I got distracted. Let me try again. You want to see where Killian is right now?”
“That’d be a start.”
“Okay.” Again I focused on my breathing. This time I felt my mind quieting and the tension draining from my muscles. I stared at the candle’s wick, thought of fire, and the candle lit. I let my eyes focus on the flame, sinking deeper into my meditative state until the coffee table, the room, Hunter, even the candle itself faded from my consciousness. There was only the flame.
Killian. I let a picture of him as he’d been at the club fill my mind—confident, cocky, laughing, with that heady mix of danger and delight in his own power.
I focused on the fire, asked it to give me the vision that I sought, to show me Killian as he was right now. I asked it to let me in, and I sent my energy toward it. I couldn’t touch it the way I’d touched the crystal. The fire would burn me. But I let my power flicker beside it, calling to its heat and energy.
Something inside the flame shifted. It danced higher, blazed brighter. Its blue center became a mirror, and in it I saw Killian in profile. He was alone in a dark, dilapidated room. There was a window across from him, casting reddish light across his face. Through the window I could see some sort of gray stone tower, partly cloaked by a screen of bare tree branches. Killian seemed frightened, his face pale and drawn.
I sent more of my power to the flame, willing more of the vision to appear, something that would give a clue to his location. The flame crackled, and Killian turned and looked straight into my eyes. Abruptly, the connection was severed. I pushed back a surge of annoyance and focused on the flame again. Again I asked for the vision of Killian as he was now and sent my energy to dance with the flame.
This time there was no vision. Instead, the flame winked out, almost as if someone had snuffed it. I blinked hard. The rest of the room came back into focus.
Hunter was watching me, his eyes inscrutable. “I saw him,” he said in an odd tone. “And I wasn’t joining my power to yours. I’ve never been able to do that before, see the vision of the one who’s scrying.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked uncertainly.
“No,” he said. “It’s because your scrying is so powerful.” He pulled me up on the couch beside him and wrapped his arms around me. “You are a seer.” He kissed each of my eyelids. “And I’m awed. Even humbled—almost.”
“Almost?” I couldn’t help being thrilled that I’d managed to pull off a feat of magick that had stymied Hunter.
“Well, you know, humble isn’t exactly my style,” he confessed with a grin.
“I’ve noticed.”
“Nor is it Killian’s,” he said, his tone serious again. He blew out a breath and leaned back against the couch. “At least we know he’s alive. He didn’t seem hurt, either. He looked scared, though. That room he was in, do you have any sense of where it is?”
I shook my head. “None.”
“I wonder,” Hunter said, “why the vision was snuffed out so quickly and why it didn’t come back. It’s almost as if someone didn’t want you to see.”
“Maybe Killian himself,” I said. “He looked at me, remember? Maybe he felt me scrying for him. Do you think he’s got enough power to cut off a vision?”
“I’d guess that he’s not lacking in power,” Hunter said with a sigh.
“There’s got to be a way to find him,” I said.
“Hang on a minute,” Hunter said. “The window across from him. Did you notice the church steeple you could see through it?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed. “That’s what it was.”
“Yes. And there was reddish light on his face, so I’m pretty sure the window must have been a westerly one. Also, wherever he is must be far enough west that the sunset isn’t blocked by lots of tall buildings.”
“Wow.” I was impressed by his deductions.
He looked intent, eager. “I’m thinking maybe I could find a building that satisfies those conditions—far west, with a westerly window, opposite a gray stone church.”
“That sounds like a lot of legwork.”
“Maybe tomorrow I can come up with a way to narrow the search. Listen, there’s one more contact I want to try to track down tonight. I’m not sure when I’ll get back.”