Changeling
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"Ow, ow," he said, but was still laughing weakly.
"Oh, stawp, stawp," Sky was saying ineffectually in her slurred English accent. Leaving Raven and Killian rolling gracelessly on the floor, I went in search of a phone. Once I found it I called Hunter.
"Come get Sky. She's smashed," I said, and gave him the address.
When I got back to the room, Raven was shrieking at Sky, Killian was on the floor, watching the scene with fascination, and Sky was starting to yell awful things back at Raven, personal things about their relationship that made me ears burn.
"Hold it!" I yelled, waving my arms. "Hold it!"
Surprisingly, the three stopped to look at me. I snatched up Sky's black leather pants and what I hoped was her shirt. Leaning over the bed, I grabbed her arm, hard. "You come with me," I said firmly, and she actually did, practically falling off the bed.
I dragged her out into the hall and down to the bathroom, where I shoved her roughly into her clothes. As soon as her arms were in the correct sleeves, I heard Hunter slam through the front door, shouting for Sky.
I produced her, handing him her boots and jacket.
At that moment the other two Stooges emerged from the bedroom. Raven's face was still contorted with fury, and Killian was starting to look a little less cheerful. Sky laughed when she saw him, and as Hunter began hauling her toward the door, she yelled, "Go for it, Raven! He's a great kisser!"
I dropped my head into my hands. I was completely disgusted with all of them. Was everyone going completely insane? Looking at Raven and Killian with disdain, I left the house and went to see if I could help Hunter pour Sky into his car.
He was buckling her in. She looked tired and wasted but not unhappy. He turned to me, his face furious. "Are you happy with your charming brother now?"
My mouth dropped open. "I don't—"
"When is he going to learn to consider others?" he shouted. "Does he think it's a game, making magick in there, in this situation? Does he think it's funny to do this to Sky?"
I stood there, shocked, as he swung into the driver's seat and slammed the door. I knew he was upset about Sky, but I felt like he was blaming me for Killian's behavior. And I was the most blameless person in this ugly scene!
Futile tears of rage started coursing down my cheeks as Hunter peeled off into the night.
I had given up the person I loved most to prevent him from being tainted by my potential inherent evil, and here I was being blamed for my blood ties, even when I had nothing to do with their actions. I was risking my life to try and save Starlocket, and he thought I was cooking up party gamed with those three idiots.
Still crying, I was starting to cross the street to get to Das Boot when a car honked in my face and almost gave me a heart attack. I leapt back onto the curb in to see a pimply faced kid race past me in a souped-up muscle car. I watched him speed off, and as he did, he shot me the bird.
My mouth dropped open for the ninth time that evening. Without having a second to think, I raised my hand in a quick gesture and muttered just five little words. Instantly the kid's car locked up and he started skidding out of control, spinning sideways and heading right for the crash rail in front of a deep ditch. I was shocked.
"Nul ra, nul ra!" I said fast, and with another second the kid had gained control of his car and come to a stop. After a moment he started the engine and continued down the road at a slower pace.
I sat down weak-kneed on the curb. What had I done? I had almost killed a stranger because I was upset at Hunter. I was unbelievable. Just last month I had been involved in two deaths. What was wrong with me, apart from being Ciaran's daughter? Was this how my decent into evil would being? After looking both ways I crossed the street and sat in my car. I cried for a long time, too upset to drive, and then I heard a voice, Ciaran's voice, saying, Power sink.
16. Shape-shifter
I received your letter yesterday, and I thank you most gratefully. To answer your question, this hospice is not at all like a prison; as long as we stay on the grounds, we are allowed much freedom. There is no one here who is dangerous to himself or another, though we are all tormented. I thank God that Father's estate can subsidize my stay here. They have allowed me to wear my monk's habit, and I am grateful.
I do not want to answer your other questions. Forgive me, Brother, but I cannot think on it.
—Simon (Brother Sinestus) Tor, to Colin, July 1771.
The old Methodist cemetery was dark and cold, and a frigid wind whipped through the scrub pines and unshaped cedars that surrounded it. I strode forward, casting my senses strongly, and felt Ciaran waiting for me.
"Thank you for coming," he said in that soothing, accented voice. With no warning I burst into tears again, embarrassed to do it in front of him, and then his arms enfolded me; I was pressed against the rough tweed of his coat, and he was stroking my hair.
"Morgan, Morgan," he murmured. "Tell me everything. Let me help."
I actually couldn't remember the last time Dad had held me when I cried—I was too cool for that. I cried alone, in my room, quietly. Ciaran's embrace seemed so welcoming and comforting.
"It's everything," I choked out. "It's being Woodbane and Catholic, it's having witch friends and nonwitch friends. It's Killian and Sky and Raven. Cal and Selene died, and I was so relieved, but I actually miss Cal sometimes. Or the Cal I thought I knew." More sobs racked me, but still Ciaran held me, letting me lean on him. "And my folks are so nice and I feel like scum because I want to know my birth father!" I sobbed and wiped my nose on the back of my glove. "And I wish I had known Maeve in person, but I can't because you killed her, you bastard!" My fist flew out quickly and slammed Ciaran in his chest. He swayed back a bit, but I'd been too close to put much into the punch. I swung again, but he caught my wrist in a grip like a braigh and stilled me.