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brown book.
    “Woodbane, Fact and Fiction,” I read aloud. A chill shot through my body. The Woodbanes were the darkest of the seven ancient Wiccan clans, notorious for their quest for power at any cost. The evil ones. I looked at her, baffled. “Why should I read this?” I asked.
    Alyce met my gaze squarely. “It’s an interesting book that debunks many of the myths surrounding the Woodbanes,” she said, ringing it up. “It’s useful for any student of the craft.”
    I didn’t know what to say, but I pulled out my wallet and counted out money, pushing the bills across the counter. I trusted Alyce. If she thought I should read this, I would. But at the same time I was aware of tension tightening Cal’s body. He wasn’t angry, but he seemed hyperalert, watching Alyce, watching me, measuring everything. I put my arm around his waist and gave him a reassuring squeeze.
    He smiled.
    “Good-bye, Alyce,” I said. “Thanks.”
    “My pleasure,” she replied. “Good-bye, Morgan. Good-bye, Cal.”
    I held my two new books under my arm as we walked to the door—one book I wanted to read, one I didn’t. Yet I would read them both. Although I had been studying witchcraft for barely two months, I had already learned a valuable lesson: Everything had two sides. I had to take the good with the bad, the fun with the discomfort, the excitement with the fear. The thorns with the rose.
    Cal pushed open the door, and the bells jingled.
    He stopped so suddenly that I walked right into his back.
    “Oof,” I said, steadying myself. I peeked around him.
    That was when I saw what had made him pause.
    It was Hunter Niall, crouched in the street, looking under Cal’s car.

4
    Spell

    As if he sensed our approach, Hunter stood quickly. His green eyes were puffy and bloodshot. His face was pale from the cold, and snowflakes had settled on his hat. But aside from the redness of his eyes, he looked like he was carved of marble—still and somehow dangerous. Why was he looking under the car? More important, why did I find him so threatening? I didn’t know the answers, but I knew that as a blood witch, I should trust my instincts. I shuddered inside my coat.
    “What are you doing, Niall?” Cal demanded. His voice was so low and steady that I hardly recognized it. I looked at him and saw that his jaw was tight. His hands were clenched at his sides.
    “Just admiring your big American car,” Hunter said. He sniffed, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He must have a cold, I thought. I wondered how long he’d been out here in the snow.
    Cal flicked his gaze to the Explorer, sweeping it from bumper to bumper, as if scanning for something out of place.
    “Hello, Morgan,” Hunter murmured. With his sickly nasal voice the greeting sounded like an insult. “Interesting company you keep.”
    The falling snowflakes were cold against my hot skin.
    I shifted my books to my other arm and gazed at Hunter, confused. Why should he care?
    Hunter stepped onto the sidewalk. Cal turned to face him, placing himself between me and Hunter. My hero, I thought. But a part of me still felt a palpable fear as well. Hunter scowled, his cheekbones so sharp that snowflakes seemed to glance off them.
    “So Cal is teaching you the secrets of Wicca, is he?” he asked. He leaned nonchalantly against the hood of the car, and Cal didn’t take his eyes off him for a second. “Of course, he has quite a few secrets of his own, eh?”
    “You can leave now, Niall,” Cal spat.
    “No, I think not,” Hunter replied evenly. “I think I’ll be around for a while. Who knows, I might have to teach Morgan a thing or two myself.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
    Hunter just shrugged.
    “Get away from me,” Cal commanded.
    Hunter stood back with a slight smile, his hands in the air as if to show he was unarmed. Cal glanced from him to the car. I’d never seen Cal so angry, so on the verge of losing control. It frightened me. He was like a