Author's notes: Here's the second part… fueled by left-over pizza, I can't be stopped!

Mom had always been too confident in her powers, and wanted too much. She was wrong in putting so little value on human life. She could never understand how much one person could effect. I knew it would lead to her downfall.

-Sgàth

I thought about it for a minute. It's unlike Mary K. to ever leave the house disheveled that's more like something I end up doing. Plus she skipped church to go to Jaycee's house, another thing that she'd never do since she had thrust herself into Catholicism with a passion, after I'd discovered Wicca. Given the facts, I came to one conclusion: Bakker. Fury filled my mind. If Bakker's managed to rape her, I swear he'll wish he'd never messed with the Woodbane princess of Bellwicket!

Unfortunately, there was little I could do for now and I went back to writing my paper. Two hours and three diet cokes later, I finally had a six-page term paper ready to be turned in tomorrow. I looked down at my bed where Dagda was sleeping and pet his head. I sighed, it was only three in the afternoon and I had no idea what else I could do. I wanted to talk to Hunter desperately, but decided against it as he was probably busy with Council business. Then I could always do a circle, except Mary K. was home. I slumped on my bed, lethargy taking over. I had disturbed Dagda's sleep, and he crawled over to sleep on my stomach, purring loudly.

* * *

As I close my eyes, I see two golden orbs in the distance, slowly moving closer. Finally they get close enough for me to realize they aren't orbs at all… they're eyes. Golden eyes, like a tiger's. Where have I seen these eyes before, they're so familiar and warm. 'Morgan, I'm still here…I love you, I've always loved you.' The voice was coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, filling my head with the sounds… a smooth rich voice, that I know I've heard many times before—

* * *

I woke up with a start, scaring Dagda off of me, his claws sticking into my stomach and scratching me. 'Hunter. I need to talk to you, please come.' Last time I hadn't told Hunter about seeing Cal, and it turned into a big mess. I had seen him and his mother die… why was he still haunting me? A few minutes passed, and still no reply. Finally I thought to call him on his cell phone. I dialed the number that he gave me.

"Morgan," his voice greeted on the other end. My heart filled with warmth just to hear from him.

"I need to talk to you," I whispered urgently into the phone.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked sensing my pain.

"Just please hurry," I replied before hanging up. I needed to talk to him in person, and he was there within a couple minutes.

I felt his presence and went outside and got into his car. Hunter's green eyes, which were now the color of grass, scanned me thoughtfully picking up my emotions. Tears welled up in my eyes; this was too much. I had seen him die, why won't he stay dead and out of my dreams?! I began to sob and Hunter wrapped his arms around me, running his fingers through my hair. Once I had quieted down, he spoke. "What happened," he breathed quietly into my ear.

"Cal…" I started, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I saw him, in a dream or vision. He spoke to me; I saw his eyes."

"Shh," he comforted me. "He's dead, we both saw him and Selene die. You're safe, he can't get to you any more."

"But I saw him!" I argued, burying my face against his chest.

He gently raised my face to eye-level. "I'll talk to the Council about it. How about you? Are you okay? Have you noticed anything off about your powers?"

I looked away and thought about it for a minute. "Did you get the witch messages that I sent you, before trying your cell phone?" I finally remembered.

"Damnation! No, I didn't receive it. I have to speak to the Council; there's something off. I can't explain what it is, but I have a feeling that there's something behind this. But don't worry, in all realism there's a much more likely that Ciaran or Amyranth is behind this, rather than Cal." He kissed my forehead. "Are you okay, or would you like to speak to the Council with me?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine now, I was just freaked out seeing him again."

"Okay," he said looking at me longingly as I got out of his car, and walked back to the house. Inside I went straight to my room, despite the fact that my parents were home and setting up for dinner in the kitchen. Picking up Dagda I curled up with him and the book on scrying that I had bought in New York. A lot of it was on theories and technique and got rather dry at parts.

"Dinner's ready," Mary K. said popping her head through the door.

"Can you tell them that I'm not hungry," I quietly asked her. Her face darkened.

"Yeah, I'll tell them. But we're having take-out Chinese," she tempted me.

"What's the occasion?"

"Mom managed to sell a house that has been on the market for a long time, someone paid cash for it too, I think. It's pretty far back, past that old Methodist cemetery. I guess they've been trying to sell it for a long time," she explained.

"Oh," I replied not sure of what else to say.

"Yeah, pretty boring. I'll tell them that you didn't feel like eating," she replied, and closed my door behind her.

I sighed, closing my book. I changed into one of Dad's old sweatshirts and crawled into bed. I fell asleep hearing Cal's voice whisper in my ear. 'We're múirn beatha dáns. We belong together, forever.'

*Author's note* Okay, things are beginning to pick up a little. I've managed to plan out the story line, and am finally confident that I've found a way for it all to make sense. Lol, that's what happens when you start a fan fic on a whim, without thinking it through first.