“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.

“No thanks,” I said, my voice curt. “I’m not in the mood.”

Bree shrugged. “Okay, we’ll see you back at the apartment.”

I started for Broadway. Since I was unexpectedly on my own, it occurred to me that now would be a good time to see if I could find Maeve and Angus’s old apartment. I thought of the promise I’d made Hunter, to refrain from anything that might draw unwelcome attention to me. But looking for my birth parents’ old apartment wouldn’t do that, I reasoned. I’d just have to make sure I avoided using magick during the search.

A ray of late-afternoon sun emerged from the clouds as I walked, and that bit of brightness seemed to lift the mood on the street. Two skateboarders whizzed by while a woman assured her reluctant poodle that it was a beautiful day for a walk. I suddenly realized that Robbie was trailing behind me.

“Robbie,” I said. “Where are you going?”

Robbie gave an overly casual shrug. “I thought I’d hang with you. Is that okay?”

Robbie looked so miserable and abandoned that I couldn’t say no. Besides, Robbie was special. He’d been with me when I found Maeve’s tools.

“I’m not going to a very scenic part of the city,” I warned. “Um—I was kind of trying to keep this quiet. You know, discreet.”

Robbie raised his eyebrows. “What, are you going to score some dope or something?”

I swatted him on the shoulder. “Idiot. Of course not. It’s just…Maeve and Angus had an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen before they moved upstate. I want to find it.”

“Okay,” Robbie said. “I don’t know what the big secret is, but I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

We walked on in silence. I was the one who finally broke it. “I think your restraint is admirable,” I told him. “If I were you, I would have decked Bree a long time ago.”

He grinned at me. “You did once, didn’t you?”

I winced at the memory of a horrible argument in the hallway at school. An argument about Cal. “I slapped her across the face,” I corrected him. “Actually, it felt awful.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

I tried to think of a delicate way to put my question. “Did things go—okay—between you two last night?”

Robbie took a deep breath. “That’s what’s so weird. It was great. I mean, as great as it could be with Raven snoring right next to us. We just cuddled. And it felt good to be together, totally warm and affectionate—and right. It was sweet, Morgan, for both of us, I swear.”

“So, what changed this morning?” I asked.

“I don’t have a clue. I woke up, said good morning to Bree when I saw her in the kitchen, and she snapped my head off. I can’t figure out what I did.”

I thought about it as we waited at the bus stop. I wondered how much I could tell Robbie without betraying what Bree had told me. After about ten minutes of waiting, a bus finally lumbered to a stop. We managed to snag seats together, facing the center aisle.

“Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, grateful for the blasting heat. I loosened my scarf and peeled off my gloves. “Or maybe what you did wrong last night was to be right.”

Robbie massaged his forehead. “You just lost me.”

“Okay, maybe last night things were every bit as great as you thought they were,” I said. “And maybe that’s the problem. When things are good is when Bree has trouble trusting them. So that’s when she has to mess them up again.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Robbie said.

I gave him a look. “Did I ever claim Bree was logical?”

We got off at Forty-ninth Street and began walking west. “We’re looking for number seven-eight-eight,” I told Robbie.

He glanced up at the building we were passing. “We’re nowhere near.”

We waited for the light on Ninth Avenue to turn. Ninth Avenue looked pretty decent, with lots of restaurants and small shops selling ethnic foods. But as we kept walking west, Forty-ninth Street became seedier and seedier. The theaters and little studio workshops were gone now. Garbage was piled by the curb. The buildings were mostly residential tenement types, with crumbling brickwork and boarded-up windows. Many were spray-painted with gang tags. We were in Hell’s Kitchen.