Traffic thickened as we headed down the Palisades Parkway toward the George Washington Bridge. I slowed. “So the animals in my dream were actually Amyranth witches in their animal forms—have I got that right?”

“Right,” Hunter confirmed. “We think so. We know they use animal masks in some of their darker rites. It’s rarer for a witch to actually be able to take on animal form, but they are capable of that as well. The council thinks that the wolf cub on the table must represent the child of the witch who appeared as the wolf.”

My mouth fell open. “But—I mean, it looked like the cub was about to be sacrificed. Are you saying a mother—or father—is out to kill their own child?”

Hunter nodded. “That’s the theory,” he said quietly. “The most likely scenario is that the victim’s power is going to be drained. Which usually means death.”

“What else?” I asked after a moment, trying to match his calm.

“Well, now we get to what the council doesn’t know,” Hunter said. “First of all, we aren’t sure which cell of Amyranth is planning this event.”

“How many cells are there?”

Hunter blew out a long breath. “Four that we know of. One in San Francisco—that was Selene’s group—one near Glasgow in Scotland, one in northern France, and one in New York City. We’ve managed to get spies into the other three cells, but unfortunately, the one in New York is the one that the council knows the least about. Basically, all we know is that it exists. We don’t know the identity of any of its members, can’t even connect it to any specific incidents of dark magick. It’s the most shadowy of all the branches.”

I tried to make sense of all of this. “So the council doesn’t know who the wolf really is.”

“Or who the cub is,” Hunter said. “We believe that he or she is a young witch in terrible danger. But we have no idea who this witch is or why he or she has been chosen as a victim.”

“And your job?” I asked.

“As I said, we’ve already got agents inside the other three Amyranth cells, who will find out as much as they can,” Hunter said. “Since we have so little information about the New York coven, I’m to try to fill in the gaps, find the witch who’s targeted, and, if it turns out the target is here in New York—”

“We’ve got to find a way to protect him,” I said, finishing his sentence.

“I’ve got to find a way to protect him,” Hunter amended. “You’ve got to relax and enjoy the city. Shop, see museums, eat bagels, visit the Statue of Liberty.”

“Oh, come on. You’re going to need help,” I argued. “I mean, you’ve got nothing to go on. Where do you even begin to find this stuff out? Can we scry or something?”

“Don’t you think the council has already tried all the methods of getting information by magick?” Hunter asked gently. “We’re at a dead end. It’s a matter of legwork now. And you can’t help me on this.” He laid his fingers gently on my lips as I started to protest. “You know it as well as I do, Morgan. It’s simply too dangerous for you.” He looked troubled. “Which reminds me of the other thing the council couldn’t figure out.”

“What’s that?” I whacked the horn impatiently. Traffic had slowed to a crawl, even though we were still miles from the exit for the bridge.

“We don’t know why you’re the one who was given this dream.”

A cold finger of fear traced its way down my back. I swallowed and was silent.

“Gurevitch, get your elbow out of my ribs,” Raven murmured. There was a general stirring in the back, then Robbie leaned over the blue vinyl bench seat. “Morning,” he said to us. “Where are we?”

“About five miles north of the city,” Hunter answered.

“I’m starving,” Robbie said. “How about we stop for breakfast?”

“I brought muffins,” Bree announced. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her holding up a large white paper bag, managing to look both sleepy and cover-girl beautiful. Bree was tall and slim, with dark eyes and sleek, mink-brown hair. She and Robbie, our good friend since elementary school, had recently started going out—sort of. Robbie was in love with Bree, but when he’d told her that, she’d gotten “all squirrelly,” as Robbie put it. Yet she continued to see him. What, exactly, she felt for him was a puzzle to me. Not that I was any expert on coupledom. Hunter was only the second guy I’d gone out with.

“Got any lemon poppy seed?” Raven asked as she rooted through the muffin bag. “Want one, Sky?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Sky said, yawning.

Sky and Raven were a study in contrasts. Sky was slim, pale, blond, with a penchant for androgynous clothing and a delicate beauty that belied her considerable power. Raven, Widow’s Vale’s resident goth girl, favored a bad-girl wardrobe that left very little to the imagination. Her current outfit featured a tight black vinyl bustier that revealed the circle of flames tattooed around her belly button. A purple stud in her nose flashed as she turned her head. The interesting thing was that Raven, who had set a record for seducing guys, was now seeing Sky. And Sky was in love with Raven. It was definitely an attraction of opposites.

Hunter took a cranberry muffin from Bree and fed me a chunk of it as I navigated the torturous bridge traffic. “Thanks,” I mumbled through a sticky mouthful, and he reached out to wipe a crumb from the corner of my mouth. Our eyes met and held, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I saw the desire in his gaze.

“Um, Morgan?” Robbie said from the backseat. “The road is that way.” He pointed through the windshield.

Still flushed, I wrenched my attention back to the road and tried to ignore what being so close to Hunter was doing to all my nerve endings. But I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to stay with him in Bree’s father’s apartment.

Mr. Warren was a successful lawyer with clients in the city and upstate New York. I knew his city apartment was in the East Twenties. Even if we weren’t going to have the place to ourselves, being in a New York City apartment with Hunter seemed wildly romantic. I pictured us in the master bedroom, gazing out at a night view of the Manhattan skyline.

And then what? I asked myself with a twinge of alarm. Hunter, sensing it, took his hand off my thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Um—I’m not really ready to talk about it,” I said.

“Fair enough.” I could feel Hunter deliberately turning his senses away from me, leaving me to examine my own thoughts in peace.

Cal had been my first boyfriend. He’d been so beautiful, so charismatic and seductive. Not only that, he’d introduced me to magick and all its beauty. He’d told me we weremùirn beatha dàns, soul mates. And I’d wanted to believe him. Every fiber of my being had wanted to be with him, yet I hadn’t felt ready for the final step of going to bed with him. Now I wondered if part of me had known all along that Cal was lying to me, manipulating me. It made my grief for him into a more complicated thing, layered with resentment and anger.

But Hunter was different. I loved him, trusted him, and was completely, soul-shakingly attracted to him. So why did it scare me to think about actually sleeping with him? I glanced in the rearview mirror, studying my friends. Robbie was a virgin like me, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t last long, now that he and Bree were together. He wanted her desperately. I didn’t know about Sky, but I knew that Bree had lost her virginity in the tenth grade, and Raven—well, I couldn’t imagine Raven ever being a virgin.

What was wrong with me, that I was seventeen and still so inexperienced?

“You’ll want to take the next exit,” Hunter murmured, and I was grateful for the gentle prompt. I merged into the traffic on the Harlem River Drive, and we swept across the top of Manhattan to the FDR Drive and the East River.

Quite suddenly the open view of the winter sky disappeared. The air became tinged with gray, and billboards and tall brick projects rose to my right. The traffic, already slow, became stop and go; impatient drivers leaned on horns. A van in front of me spewed a cloud of black exhaust. I caught a glimpse of lead-gray river water to my left, with industrial buildings on the far side. A taxi driver yelled unintelligibly at me as he passed on the right.