Hunter had tried to kill Cal, had bound his hands with spelled silver chain that had started to sizzle against Cal's flesh as soon as it touched him. That was when I'd hurled the athame at him and sent him over the cliff's edge. And probably killed him. Killed him.

I shuddered as I turned onto my street. Had we actually killed him? Did Hunter have a chance? Maybe the wound in his neck wasn't as horrific as it had seemed. Maybe, when he went over the cliff, he had landed on a ledge. Maybe he was found by a park ranger or someone like that.

Maybe.

I let the Explorer drift to a halt around the corner from my house. As I pocketed the keys, I noticed all the birthday gifts Cal had given me earlier, piled up on the backseat. Well, almost all. The beautiful athame was gone—Hunter had taken it over the cliff with him. With a sense of unreality I gathered up the other gifts and then ran home down the shoveled and salted walks. I let myself in silently, feeling with my senses. Again my magick was like a single match being held in a storm wind instead of the powerful wave I was used to feeling. I couldn't detect much of anything.

To my relief, my parents didn't stir as I went past their bedroom door. In my own room I sat for a moment on the edge of my bed, collecting my strength. After the nightmarish events of tonight my bedroom looked babyish, as if it belonged to a stranger. The pink-and-white-striped walls, flowered border, and frilly curtains had never been me, anyway. Mom had picked everything out and redone the room for me as a surprise while I was at camp, six years ago.

I threw off my clammy clothes and sighed with relief as I pulled on sweats. Then I went downstairs and dialed 911.

"What is the nature of the emergency?" a crisp voice asked.