"Maggie lifted her long black sleeve and stared at the stinging tattoo on her left inner forearm. It hurt like hell, but she hadn't flinched. An exquisite Celtic war horse, it reared up on its hind legs and kicked out with its front. The body was solid black, the mane and tail, a rippling white and black ribbon of Celtic knots. It had amber eyes and nostrils that flared like an angry dragon." When a third witch vanishes from Vancouver, the witches...