Free Awakening by Cate Tiernan

to tell me what it was, where it had come from, how I could protect myself from it effectively.
    I started up the narrow path. Even in daylight it was hard to be sure that there was a house tucked away behind all the trees. The porch was even ricketier than it had seemed at night. A post was missing from the railing, and the stairs had a split tread.
    I reached the door and hesitated. Should I knock? I suddenly felt reluctant to bring my troubles to this particular door.
    I chickened out. I’d turned and started off the porch when I heard the door open behind me. “Morgan,” Hunter’s voice said.
    Caught. I turned to face him and felt myself blush. “I should have called first. Maybe this isn’t a good time.”
    “It’s fine,” he said. “Come in.”
    Inside there was no sign of Sky. I settled myself in one of the living room armchairs. The house was as cold as it had been last night, the fire in the little fireplace giving off hardly any warmth at all. I was shivering, growing more uncomfortable by the second. This had been a bad idea.
    “So,” Hunter said as he sat across from me. “Why are you here?”
    To my surprise, I blurted, “I didn’t feel anything at our circle last night. I’m the one who always gets swept away, but . . . Everyone else was transported, but I didn’t get anything. I don’t know if Cirrus is right for me anymore.”
    “Wicca isn’t about getting things,” Hunter said.
    “I know that,” I said defensively. “It’s just—it’s just that it doesn’t usually happen to me.” I studied his face, wondering how much to confide in him. “It scared me,” I admitted. “Like my powers would be gone forever.” A thought occurred to me. “Did you do something to damp down my power during the circle in any way?”
    He raised his eyebrows. “If I were trying to control your power, you’d have known it. And it’s not something I would do unless it were an extreme emergency.”
    “Oh.” I sank back into the chair.
    He crossed a booted foot over his knee. He tapped it a few times. “Perhaps . . . my style doesn’t bring out your potential.”
    He sounded disappointed. In me, I wondered, or in himself? “Everyone else, it worked for them,” I said grudgingly. “They really liked how you did things.”
    His face brightened, making him look more like an ordinary teenager. Extraordinarily handsome, maybe, but less intense. “They did? I’m glad. I haven’t been that nervous since . . . well, never mind.” He pressed his lips together as if he wanted to make sure he didn’t say anything else. He looked almost startled—as if he hadn’t meant to say those words aloud.
    “You were nervous?” I couldn’t help enjoying that. “The mighty Hunter?”
    Hunter leaned forward, gazing into the hearth. “Don’t you think I know how highly you all thought of Cal? Especially you. I knew no one really wanted me taking over. And a part of me thought: Well, maybe they’re right. Maybe I can’t lead a circle as well as he did. God knows he’s more at ease with people than I’ll ever be.”
    I stared at him, stunned to hear him admit to so much vulnerability. I thought back to times when I’d watched Cal move from one clique at school to another, fitting in wherever he went. It was part of what had made him so good at manipulating people—he could present them with what they wanted to see. And what made it so powerful was that at some level, it was real. Hunter, on the other hand, could only be himself.
    He and I had that in common.
    A sadness clouded his clear green eyes. “I always thought my father would be there when I took over as a coven leader. It feels strange to take the step without him.”
    I nodded, aware of another connection we had. “Like my trying to learn about my birthright without my birth parents. I feel like something is missing.”
    “Yes,” Hunter agreed. “Without Dad, being coven leader is all that more daunting.”
    “What made you decide to do it,