Chapter 51
Chapter
Fifty-One
Donovan and I stare at each other, dumbfounded. He looks dumbfounded, anyway, his brows knitted and his eyes narrowed. I’m panicking and doing my best not to show it, so I probably just look…blank.
He jabs the Power button again. “Do you seriously think someone’s sabotaging our ability to leave? That they fucked with my car? Maybe it’s some sort of seismic activity interfering with?—”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” I bury my head in my hands. “Donovan, I know you think magic is a bunch of bullshit. That you don’t believe in curses or premonitions or ley lines. But I’m telling you, your brother really is a witch. And so is Ethan. Whatever he’s doing with that database, the samples he got, the codes next to our names—it’s connected to his magic. He wants something from both of us. And you…he’s trying to kill you.”
There’s a marked silence from the driver’s seat. Then a warm hand descends on the back of my neck, its touch assessing. Aggravated, I jerk away, head still buried in my palms. “What are you doing ?”
“I’m trying to figure out if you have a fever. Because you sure as shit sound delirious. Yeah, Ethan’s acting outside the lines here. Yeah, something fucked up is going on and we need to get to the bottom of it. But all this crap with witches and murder?—”
I dig my nails into my scalp, tugging at my hair in frustration. Tears burn my eyes. “I think Ethan killed my parents, Donovan. He wants to do the same to you. And I can’t lose you, okay? I’ve already lost so much, and I can’t…”
“Hold up. Did—did you just say Ethan killed your parents ?” His voice cracks. “If you really believe that, Rune, you should go to the police. You should?—”
“Your brother is the police!” I shriek. “And I told you, he’s in league with Ethan. I was so stupid, coming up here like this. Mrs. Fontaine warned me, but I didn’t listen. I was dumb and stubborn and I thought I could handle this myself and now…now…”
A sob tears loose from my throat, followed by another. Huddled in Donovan’s too-big hoodie, I draw my knees up to my chest and freaking lose it. “You think I’m crazy,” I weep. “You don’t believe me. No one ever believes me, and I’m used to that, but now you might d-d-die, and it’ll be all my fault, and I can’t…I don’t…”
I choke on my sobs, my breath coming in shallow pants. The red haze crowds the edge of my vision, and at the thought of battling that crimson tide again, I sob even harder. I am so tired of fighting. Sometimes it feels like my whole life has been a fight. Like I’m banging on a door, and no one can hear me, and the water is rising, and I’m drowning drowning drowning?—
“Hey.” His arms come around me, holding me close. I resist, but he pulls me against him, tucking my head under his chin. One big hand smooths back my hair. “If you say there’s magic, then I believe you, Rune. I can’t pretend to understand it, but I believe you, okay?”
“Don’t p-patronize me,” I hiccup, shaking my head against his chest.
He cups my chin, lifting my tear-stained face. “Rune,” he says, slowly and clearly, his eyes fixed on mine, “I. Believe. You.”
“You c-c-can’t,” I stammer. “You only believe in 0s and 1s or bits and bytes or…”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” His expression is grave. “When I met you, my life was so predictable, it was ridiculous. I got up every morning, ironed my clothes, drove to the gym, worked out, maybe volunteered at the shelter, rinse, repeat. But then you showed up and you blew that routine all to hell. You made me mad and you made me happy and you made me want you.” Those gorgeous eyes of his darken, and he strokes my wet cheek. “You remember that night in my office? You asked me to make you feel.”
“I remember.” My voice is a whisper.
“Well, that’s what you make me do, all the time. You make me feel, Rune. Sometimes I hate you for it. But mostly…mostly, I just want more. More of the unpredictability and danger and, yeah, chaos that’s come into my life since the moment you stepped into the elevator with me. More of you .”
“So you w-want me,” I manage, knuckling away my tears. “But that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to?—”
He presses his fingers to my lips, silencing me. “I already told you I trusted you. I put my career and my reputation on the line for you. But it seems like you’re the one who didn’t believe me. So now I’m telling you—I’ll step outside the lines of everything I’ve ever counted on, everything I thought defined the world, if that’s what it takes for you to realize how far I’ll go for you. What I’m willing to risk.”
We regard each other in silence. My breath comes in harsh gasps. “Why would you do that?” I say finally. “Why would you risk everything for me?”
Donovan’s chest rises and falls. He braces his shoulders, as if girding himself. The moment hangs between us, fragile as handspun glass. “Because,” he says, his jaw setting in a harsh line. “Because, Rune, I?—”
I really want to hear what he has to say. Even if it’s going to condemn us both to the pits of hell, I want to hear it. But I don’t get the chance to, because before he can finish his sentence, someone slips around the car parked next to us and materializes inches from Donovan’s door.
I shriek, jerking back from him so hard that I slam into my seat. Bewildered, Donovan turns, following the direction of my horrified gaze, just as Rosa—because that’s who it is—knocks on his window.
“Yoo-hoo!” Her voice is as chipper as ever, her blonde hair still in its perfect ponytail, as she motions for Donovan to roll down the window. Which he can’t, of course, since the car won’t freaking turn on.
“Don’t open it!” I hiss at him. “What if she’s one of them?”
Donovan swivels to look at me. “What, an evil witch? She looks like an aerobics instructor.” His tone is dry. “Besides, what choice do we have? It’s not like we can drive away.”
Much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Rosa can just wait us out. Worse, if she’s on Ethan’s side, she could bring him running. Better to feign cooperation. “Fine,” I mumble. “Go ahead.”
The moment he cracks the door, she starts talking. “Hey there, you two! Here you are. I thought y’all got lost or something.”
“Here we are,” I agree. “Um, Rosa, Donovan’s car won’t start. Do you happen to have jumper cables? I’d get them out of my own car, but you still have my purse, and?—”
“Oh!” Rosa chirps. “I almost forgot.” She bends, scooping something up from the ground. “Here,” she says, reaching across Donovan to hand my purse to me.
Donovan shoots me a look that says see, not an evil witch, after all. But I’m too busy digging in my purse for my phone and yanking it out.
It’s dead. Which makes no sense at all, because I charged it in the car all the way up to the retreat this morning.
“Oh, and Donovan, here’s your phone,” she says, pulling it out of her belt bag. I catch a glimpse of the lock screen as she drops the phone into his palm, and relief shoots through me. His phone is on, which means maybe mine just died, after all. All we need to do is to get rid of Rosa, and then we can call Charlotte, and?—
“That’s totally weird about your car,” Rosa says. “Good thing you’re here overnight anyway. Were you and Rune going somewhere?”
Her tone is cheery, but the words sound foreboding, all the same—like what she really means is, You thought you were going somewhere, didn’t you? Well, too bad…and also, what exactly did you have in mind and how can I put a stop to it? And by it, I mean you.
“I, um, wanted a chai latte.” I give her a bright smile. “That escape room was pretty challenging, huh? All that melting ice made me thirsty. And as awesome as this retreat center is, I don’t think it has a coffee bar anywhere!”
“No,” Rosa agrees. “It doesn’t. But you know what it does have?”
I run through possible responses, discarding them as I go: A lake that tried to drown me? A murderous boss? A coven of Blood Witches tracking genetic data that they have no right to access? I glance at Donovan, but he’s no help. One hand is poking at his phone. The other’s tight on the wheel, like he expects the car to start up any moment and drive away, Christine -style. “Nope,” I say at last. “What?”
“A fancy dinner, with live musicians!” Rosa claps her hands, bouncing up and down. “It’s a reward for all of you, for being such good sports. Of course”—she spares me a glance, her smile slipping—“you can’t go looking like that, Rune. What happened to your clothes?”
Oh, Jesus. “I, um—the lake?—”
“Did you go swimming?” She gives us a sly glance. “Or did the two of you cooperate so well that you decided to continue your collaboration elsewhere?”
She did not just say that. “Excuse me?” I say as Donovan blushes so hard, I can feel it in my own cheeks.
“Those are his clothes. Right?” Her smile cranks up a few notches. “That’s okay! You don’t have to tell me. It’s your business, after all. The point of the escape room was for the two of you to figure out a way to work together, and obviously, you have.”
“We almost drowned,” Donovan snaps. “Was that part of the point, too?”
For the first time, Rosa’s smile falters. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Do you have any idea why my phone won’t dial out, then?” He brandishes it at her. “Why my laptop’s dead? Or why my car won’t start?”
Rosa’s lower lip trembles. “We’re isolated up here at the retreat. Maybe it’s an electrical issue. Or a problem with cell service. I promise, after dinner, we’ll get jumper cables. If you really need to go anywhere and your car still won’t start, I’ll drive you there myself.”
She looks so bemused and pathetic, I want to believe her. But maybe she’s just a really good actor. Could it be that she doesn’t know what the Blood Witches are up to? That if we go along with her, she’ll really get us out of here?
I’ve got my keys, after all. Maybe my car will start. Maybe we won’t even need her.
“Come on,” Rosa wheedles. “Please? We’ve got everything set up all special. You two are the only ones who’re missing. Rune can go get changed, we’ll have dinner, and then we’ll figure out whatever you need.”
Maybe this is a trap. But I can’t figure a way out of it, not without tipping off Ethan. “Okay,” I say, opening the passenger-side door. “Fine. Donovan, would you come with me?” There’s no way I’m leaving him alone with her. For all I know, Ethan plans to snatch him and do terrible things to him the moment my back is turned.
“Sure,” he says, eyeing Rosa warily as he gets out and comes around to my side of the car. The two of them trail me to my cabin, Rosa chattering a mile a minute. I was hoping to speak with Donovan privately, but she follows us inside and waits while I change into a clean pair of linen pants and a blue silk tank top. I put on flats, just in case I have to run for my life.
I desperately want to try to start up my car, but there’s no chance, not with Rosa on my heels as I lock the cabin and start walking down the hill. She leads us past the main lodge and toward a meadow that I noticed when I drove in earlier. “Almost there!” she says. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun!”
“I seriously doubt that,” Donovan mutters, and I let out a snort.
But my laughter dies in my throat the moment we get close enough to hear the music emanating from the meadow. It’s a live string quartet, playing the haunting strains of Pachelbel’s Canon.
The music from my visions of our wedding.