"Come on," I said patiently. I pulled him over to one side of the hallway so we could talk without being overheard by the occasional wandering student. I lowered my voice. "I mean, I saw you yesterday, with Raven, in the park. I know she's trying to get you to join her coven. I know you're fooling around with her."

"I'm not fooling around with her!" Matt insisted.

I didn't even answer. I just raised my eyebrows.

His gaze fell to the floor. "I mean, it hasn't gotten that far," he mumbled, finally giving in. "Jesus, I don't know what to do."

I shrugged. "Break up with Jenna if you want to go out with Raven," I said.

"But I don't want to go out with Raven," Matt said. "I don't want to join her coven. The thing is… I've always thought she was kind of hot, you know?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Why am I even telling you this?"

A couple of freshman girls passed us. Though they were only two years younger, they seemed a world apart from me. They were a world apart. They belonged to the world of school and homework and boys. Mary K.'s world. Not mine.

"Why does she want you to join their coven?" I asked.

"I guess they need more people," Matt answered. He sounded miserable. "A bunch of people started coming, but they all dropped out or were kicked out. A lot of them didn't take it seriously."

"But why you?" I pressed.

He sniffed. "I don't think it's really me. I mean, I'm nobody. I'm just a warm body."

"You're also part of our coven," I muttered. Part of me wanted to console him, but the other part wanted to wring his neck. "So what are you going to do?" I asked. I crossed my arms and tried not to look too judgmental.

"I don't know."

I sighed. "Maybe you should talk to Cal about this," I suggested. "Maybe he could help you clarify your thoughts."

Matt didn't look so sure. "Maybe," he said doubtfully. "I'll think about it." He glanced up at me. "Are you going to tell Jenna?"

"No." I shook my head. "But she's not stupid. She knows something's wrong."

He laughed distantly. "Yeah. We've been going out for four years. We know each other so well. But we're not even eighteen yet." With that he pushed himself off the wall and headed off to his class—without so much as even a backward glance.

I watched him leave, thinking about what he'd said. Did he mean he had gotten tied up with Jenna too early and wanted to date other people? As I pondered it a short rhyme popped into my mind. I repeated the words quietly.

I shook my head and headed to my own class. What did it mean? I wondered. Who knew? These things didn't come with instructions and commentary.

That afternoon when Mary K. and I got home from school, there was a gray car parked in front of our house. I didn't think anything of it—people parked in front of our house all the time. It was probably one of my mother's clients. So I just followed my sister up the walkway.

"Morgan!"

I wheeled at that voice. Hunter Niall was getting out of the car.

"Who's the dish?" Mary K. asked, arching an eyebrow.

I glared at her. "Go inside," I commanded, my heart kicking up a beat. "I'll deal with it."

Mary K. grinned at me. "Ooh. I can't wait to hear all about this." She pounded up the porch steps, stomped the ice off her Doc Martens, and went inside.

"Hello, Morgan," Hunter said, approaching me. How did he manage to make a simple greeting sound menacing? I wondered. His cold seemed to have gotten worse, too. His nose was red, and his voice was very nasal.

"What do you want?" I asked, swallowing. I remembered my bad dream of last night, my overwhelming feelings of being smothered, the dark cloud that had been chasing me.

He coughed. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?" I slung my backpack up onto the porch, not taking my eyes off him. I watched his hands, his mouth, his eyes, anything that he could use to do magick. My pulse was racing; my throat felt tight. I wished hard that Cal would suddenly drive up out of the blue. I considered sending him a message with my thoughts, a witch message—but then I realized I should just turn around and go in. I could handle myself. I didn't even need to talk to Hunter.

But for some reason I just stood there as he strode toward me, cutting across our lawn, leaving black footprints in the half-melted ice. He was close enough now that I could see that his fair skin was completely unblemished and there were a few freckles across the bridge of his strong nose. His eyes were cold and green.

"Let's talk about you, Morgan," he said, and he pushed his leather cap farther back on his head. A few tufts of blond hair poked out beneath it. "You don't know what you're doing with Cal." He made this announcement firmly but casually, as if he were simply telling me it was four o'clock and time for tea.

I shook my head, feeling the anger rise. "You don't even know—"

"It's not your fault," he interrupted. "This is all new to you."

The anger welled in the pit of my stomach, turning to rage. What right did he have to be so condescending to me?

Hunter fastened his eyes on mine. "You can't be expected to know about Cal, and his mother, and who they are," he said.

"No one blames you," he added.

"No one blames me for what?" I demanded. "What are you talking about? I don't even know you. Where do you get off telling me anything about people I know, people I care about?"

He shrugged. His manner was as cold as the air around us. "You're stumbling into something bigger and darker than you could possibly imagine."

Rage turned to sarcasm. Hunter definitely brought out the worst in me. "Oh," I said, trying to sound bored. "Stop, stop, you're scaring me."

His face tightened, and he stepped toward me. My stomach clenched, and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I resisted the urge to turn and bolt into the house.

"Cal's lied to you," Hunter snarled. "He isn't what or who you think he is. Neither he nor his mother. I'm here to warn you. Don't be stupid. Look at me!" He gestured at his puffy eyes and red nose. "Do you think this is normal? Because it isn't. They're working magick on me—"

"Oh, are you kidding me?" I interrupted. "Are you actually telling me they're plotting against you? Give me a break!"

Who was this guy? Did he really think I would believe that Cal and Selene gave him a cold with dark magick? Or was he simply some paranoid nut? Maybe I should feel sorry for him—but I couldn't. All I felt was fury. I wanted to shove him as hard as I could, knock him down and kick him. I had never been so angry, not at my parents, or Bree, not even at Bakker. I spun to go inside.

Hunter darted forward and caught my arm in a painful grip reeling trapped, furious, I drew my fingers together and smacked his hand. A jolt of crackly blue light jumped from my hand and shocked him. He released me at once, looking startled.

"So that's it," he whispered, rubbing his hand. He nodded in astonishment. "That's why he wants you."

"Get the hell away from me!" I shouted. "Or do you want me to really hurt you?"

Hunter sneered. "Trying to show me just what a powerful Woodbane you are?"

Time seemed to freeze.

"That's right," he whispered. "I know your secret. I know you're Woodbane."

"You don't know anything," I managed. The words came out in a misty whisper.

"Maeve Riordan," he said, shrugging. "Belwicket. They were all Woodbane. Don't act like you don't know."

"You're lying," I spat, but I felt an awful sensation bubbling inside me, like a boiling cauldron. I wondered if I was going to throw up.