The Calling by Cate Tiernan

thrown me a rope.
    Where are you? Hunter’s witch message almost made me jump. Reluctantly I stood up. The man nodded, as if acknowledging that I was leaving, but didn’t say a word. I returned to the club, feeling I’d just been given a strange but lovely gift.
    I found my friends gathered on a semicircular leather couch in the bar area. The showy witch Raven had been dancing with sat next to her on the very end of the couch.
    Sky looked up as I approached. “Morgan, this is Killian,” she said, her voice perfectly neutral, which made me wonder what I’d missed.
    Killian gave me a grin, held out his hand, and said, “Enchanted.”
    Hunter made room for me beside him. Killian’s dark eyes flickered between us, and I wondered if he could tell that just sitting next to Hunter made my whole body feel more alive.
    Bree was looking at Killian with a calculating expression. “So you’re another Brit?” she asked.
    â€œYeah, we’re all over New York, a ruddy plague of us,” he admitted cheerfully.
    His accent was different from Hunter’s and Sky’s. I was glad when Robbie asked, “Which part of England?”
    â€œOh, I’ve done the whole miserable U.K. Born in Scotland, went to school in London, spent time in Ireland, summers in Wales and the Shetlands. And in all those places it rains too bleeding much. I’m still damp.” He held out his arm to me. “Can you see the moss?”
    I couldn’t help laughing, liking him. He was definitely appealing. His features weren’t perfect, like Cal’s had been, and he didn’t have Hunter’s classic, chiseled bone structure, but he had energy. There was something wild, almost animal, about him. I wondered which clan he belonged to. But I knew I couldn’t ask. Among witches, that question was considered very intrusive.
    Killian got to his feet. “I’m going to get a beer. Anyone want one?”
    â€œYou’re twenty-one?” I asked, surprised. He didn’t look any older than the rest of us.
    â€œAlmost twenty,” he admitted with a grin, “but I age well.” As he spoke, he drew a sign in the air, and the planes of his face became softer and fuller. Lines appeared across his forehead, and a crease deepened between his brows. Anyone would have thought he was pushing thirty. “Now…beer, wine, scotch, anyone?”
    â€œI’ll have a beer, too,” Raven said, looking smitten.
    â€œA Sprite would be great,” Robbie said.
    â€œSprite it is,” Killian said graciously, but I could sense mockery.
    â€œHe’s good,” Bree said as Killian started off for the crowded bar.
    â€œIt was just a glamor,” Sky said dismissively. “A trick of the eye.”
    Bree looked at me. “What do you think of him?”
    I shrugged, unsure of how to answer. On one level, I couldn’t help liking him, his cheerful irreverence and the fact that he seemed to be having such a good time just being Killian. But there was also something about him that alarmed me, something dangerous in his raw, animal spirits. And there was the fact that when he cast that glamor, I felt pure envy. I knew I had the power to pull off magick like that, yet my lack of experience held me back. Alyce didn’t know how to cast glamors, and neither did I.
    Hunter gave me an odd look. “What’s bothering you?”
    â€œI don’t know.” I shifted in my seat, annoyed with myself for being so competitive. A good Wiccan would be able to simply enjoy Killian’s power for what it was.
    â€œI’m not sure I trust him,” Hunter said thoughtfully. His eyes followed Killian as he scored the two beers and Robbie’s soda.
    Raven lit a cigarette and blew smoke through her nostrils at us. “What is your collective problem?” she asked. “So Killian shows off a little with his magick. All it means is he’s