The Calling Read Free Page B

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?
    â€œYou’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.
    I felt a surge of raw, boisterous energy. We were in the city.

2
Searching
    March 3, 1977
    My wedding garments are laid out. The white robe embroidered in gold with the runes to summon power. The belt woven of gold and crimson threads. The groom’s wristbands, beaten gold set with rubies, that I inherit from Grania’s father. Everything is spelled with charms for strength and fertility, with protections against whatever might harm us, with blessings for wealth and long life.
    I wonder about love, though. Grania teases me, saying that nothing truly touches my heart, and maybe she’s right. I know I don’t love her, though I’m fond of her.
    Yet my mind lingers on last summer’s fling with that American Woodbane, Selene. Now, I know that wasn’t love, but Goddess, it was exciting, the most intense experience I’ve ever had. And that includes all the times I’ve been with Grania. Still, Grania is a pretty thing and very pliant. And she’s strong in her magick. Our children will be powerful, and that’s the most important thing. Power. Woodbane power.
    So why do I hesitate as I prepare for our wedding? And why do I keep dreaming of that damned white dress?
    â€”Neimhidh
    Bree’s father’s apartment was on Park Avenue and Twenty-second Street. Bree gave directions, and I maneuvered Das Boot off the FDR, across Twenty-third Street, and finally onto Park and into the garage beneath the building.
    The garage attendant gave me a strange look as we pulled in. With its two front quarter panels covered with gray body filler, its slate blue hood and shiny new metal bumper, Das Boot was not looking its most sophisticated.
    Bree cranked down her window and spoke to the guard. “We’re guests of Mr. Warren in apartment thirty-sixty,” she said. “He’s arranged for a guest pass.”
    The guard checked a computer screen and let us in. The garage was filled with BMWs, Jags, Mercedes, and top-of-the-line SUVs.
    I patted Das Boot on its piebald fender. “You’re good for this place,” I told it. “They need to see how the other half drives.”
    â€œIt’s the perfect city car,” Robbie assured me. “No one would ever try to steal it.”
    Loaded down with bags, we walked to the elevator. Bree hit the button for the thirtieth floor, and I felt Hunter clasp my hand. This was so glamorous, like something in a movie.
    Raven smiled at Sky. “This is very cool. I love the city.”
    Sky smiled back at her. “Think I could