Chapter 59
Chapter
Fifty-Nine
We’re alive, I think, watching Charlotte tug her clothes to rights and look around bemusedly. Somehow, we’re all alive. I want to hug my best friend, to hold her close. And I will, as soon as I can find the strength to move. For now, I let Donovan hold me, reveling in the knowledge that my curse has been lifted. That the awful vision of him drowning in the blood tide, of his death on what should’ve been one of the happiest days of our lives, didn’t come true.
We stopped it, together. When I was out of control, when the power of the ley lines threatened to destroy me and everyone around me, he saved me from myself. It was his gift that sapped the Blood Witches of their power. His ability that stabilized the ley lines.
Together, he and I can accomplish anything.
The knowledge that I’m no longer alone—that this beautiful, stubborn, impossible man risked everything for me—courses through my body like sweet, drugging wine. I twine my fingers through his, never wanting to let him go, and he holds on just as tightly.
“Rune.” Mrs. Fontaine emerges from the crowd and rushes to my side, her gaze flicking over every inch of me. “ Iris. Sweet girl. I was so afraid we were going to lose you.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, even though shivers run through me from head to foot. The after-effects of shock, I guess. A girl doesn’t channel the power of countless greedy ley lines, have her curse revoked, discover mysterious secrets about the man she’s fated to marry, watch her boss die right in front of her, and learn she has the power to make the world bend to her bidding every day. I think I’ve earned the right to shake a little.
She eyes me doubtfully, the way she always used to when I told her I knew exactly where that misplaced library book was, cross my heart and hope to die. One of her silver brows arches in an unmistakable gesture of skepticism.
“And you,” she says to Donovan. “Clearly there is more to you than meets the eye.”
“I—” Donovan starts, but he’s interrupted by Mrs. Hernandez.
“Louise!” she snaps. “We could use a little help here!”
Mrs. Fontaine looks over her shoulder at her fellow Sinsters, who are standing in front of the assembled Blood Witches, faces fixed in identical expressions of disgust. Cooper strides toward them, a trickle of blood running down his cheek. He catches Donovan’s eye, then gives him one of those guy-nods. Even though I don’t speak fluent Officer Asshat, I can interpret it just fine. We have a lot to talk about, that nod says. But I’m here for it if you are.
He’s obnoxious, yes. But I don’t hate him anymore. I can’t. When it counted, he came through. He saved Donovan’s life. If he hadn’t played the role of double agent so well, if he hadn’t acted when he did, Donovan wouldn’t be holding me right now. He’d be dead, and I’d be a prisoner of whatever these monsters wanted to do with me next.
A sob escapes me as Mrs. Fontaine walks away, and Donovan strokes my face, his fingertips rough but his touch gentle. “Hey. It’s over,” he whispers against my hair. “We’re alive. We’re going to be okay.”
Cradled in his arms, sniffing back tears, I watch Cooper confront the Blood Witches. Next to him stand the Sinsters, their expressions grim. “ Cavea ad tenebras continendas ,” they chant in unison as soon as Mrs. Fontaine joins them, and those fiery chains emanate from their fingertips once more. The chains bind the Blood Witches where they stand, keeping them from fleeing.
“All of you colluded in dragging Rune and Donovan to this retreat under false pretenses,” Cooper accuses, pacing in front of them. “You tricked the entire magical population of Sapphire Springs into coming up here, even those who didn’t know they possessed magical blood, and then stole their free will. And you tested their blood without their knowledge, obtaining access to privileged medical information and using it for your own gain. Make no mistake, High Priestess Marilyn will try you for your crimes.”
Georgia snarls at him, fighting the fiery chains that bind her. “You killed Ethan. The murder of a Blood Witch scion is no small thing. When the Scion on High finds out about this, there will be no place on earth you can hide from her vengeance.”
“ You would have killed my brother.” Cooper’s lip curls, and Donovan’s arms tighten around me. “And how, exactly, do you think your precious Scion will find out? Certainly, you’re not going to be the one to tell her.”
“What do you mean? I’ll tell her every last?—”
Mrs. Grant steps forward, away from her fellow Sinsters. “Jenny,” she says, turning toward the crowd. “Come here, please.”
I watch, perplexed, as Jenny breaks away from the milling residents. “You want to alter their memories, I assume,” she says, coming to a halt at Mrs. Grant’s side.
My jaw drops. Sweet, kind Jenny, who’d always stood up for me, who runs the animal shelter, who I’ve known since I was a little kid—she’s a witch? I saw in the database she had Coven blood, but this is different. All along, she’s known who she was, that she had power?
Mrs. Grant nods, the gesture matter-of-fact. “There are a lot of them, but together, we can do it. I’ll call their memories of tonight to the surface; you alter them. We’ll do it for this scum first”—she jerks her head at the Blood Witches—“then for the rest of them. It’ll be a mercy.”
“What the hell?” Donovan sounds as shocked as I feel. “They can do that?”
“I guess they can,” I say, watching as Jenny sets her shoulders in determination. “This is almost as new to me as it is to you. Until I saved Cooper from that damned bus, I thought I was the only one who was…different. Every day since then has been a revelation.”
He holds me tighter still. “Yes,” he murmurs, his voice a low, delicious rumble. “It certainly has.”
“Cooper,” Mrs. Hernandez says, without dropping her hands. Those fiery cords still emanate from them, holding the Blood Witches in place. “Donovan. We’ll need you to move these bodies. Once everyone’s memories have been altered, seeing a couple of corpses will prove more than distracting. It’ll be traumatic, and we’ll have to start all over again.”
“God forbid something traumatic should happen,” Donovan mumbles, getting to his feet and pulling me up with him. “Just another day, right? Analyze some data, move some dead bodies… You’ll be okay here?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, realizing it’s the truth. “I will.”
I watch as Donovan makes his way through the dusk, navigating by the light of the fiery bonds that hold the Blood Witches. He kneels by Mina’s body first, then touches her face, closing her eyes. She was his grandmother, after all, and in the end she sacrificed herself to save us all. If she hadn’t lifted my curse and I hadn’t been able to channel the power of the lines, we’d be facing a very different scenario right now. I close my own eyes, giving a moment of gratitude for her sacrifice, no matter what she did to me.
When I blink them open again, Cooper is kneeling next to Donovan, one hand on his shoulder. A low conversation passes between them before they lift Mina’s frail body, carrying her in the direction of the lodge.
“Let us begin. We look to the east,” Mrs. Grant says, just as she did the night she brought the memories of my parents back. “To the place where the sun rises, giving birth to each day.”
“To the east,” Jenny, Mrs. Hernandez, and Mrs. Fontaine echo. Hot Yoga Grandma has come to stand by their side—I guess they’ve made up, in light of recent events?—and when Mrs. Grant continues, “We look to the north,” she joins in the chorus.
If the Sinsters are going to erase Charlotte’s memories, I want to see for myself first that she’s all right. My legs still tremble as I wind my way through the crowd, but I don’t start crying in earnest until Charlotte sees me and bursts into tears, too.
“Oh, Rune,” she says, throwing her arms around me. “What happened? I was home…I got a letter about some kind of surprise award dinner here at the retreat, and so I came…but when I g-got here… I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember anything after getting in the car. I just woke up here, and there were dead bodies, and you were all glowy and b-blue…”
“Don’t worry, Char,” I say, squeezing her so tightly, she lets out a gasp. “It was all a misunderstanding. A mistake. It’ll be better soon.” The Sinsters are right—it’s better not to remember this. How would I ever explain?
She pulls back, her wide, tear-filled eyes fixed on mine. “What time is it? I was supposed to check on Valentine with the girls while you were away, give her dinner?—”
It’s so Charlotte, to be worried about pet-sitting in the middle of a magical apocalypse. At the thought of my sweet, adorable cat, snuggled up on her cushion in the cottage I worked so hard to buy, I cry harder. Do I even have a job now? Where will I work? How will I live?
These are problems for later, I tell myself firmly. Behind me, I can hear Jenny saying, “You all went for a drive to contemplate the errors of your ways. You realized that you’re terrible, terrible people. Mina died of natural causes. Ethan decided to move to Antarctica, where he can do a minimum of harm.”
Antarctica? Really? I picture Funko-Pop, murder-obsessed Ethan toddling amongst the penguins, and snort with laughter as I wipe away my tears. Through my blurred vision, I see Donovan and Cooper come back, bend to pick up Ethan’s body, and carry it away.
“You discussed it and you want to turn yourselves in for illegally collecting personal medical information with the intention to use it against others, as well as conspiracy in the attempted murder of Donovan Frost—or whatever the technical terms might be. How should I know, I run an animal shelter!” Jenny goes on. “You decided to sit down together and agree on a story. First, you’ll confess to the High Priestess. After that, you’ll find Cooper and ask him to meet you at the police station. Whatever the charges, you’ll plead guilty. You want to go to prison. You look forward to it. This discussion will be your only memory of tonight. Correct?”
She pauses, waiting for the Blood Witches’ response. One by one, they reply, “Yes.” “Absolutely.” “Fantastic idea.” They sit down on the grass in a circle, and Jenny folds her arms across her chest. “Never gets old,” she mutters. “God, they deserved so much worse.”
The Sinsters drop their arms, the fiery chains evaporating. “Rune,” Mrs. Hernandez calls. “Come away from Charlotte. It’s time.”
“What is she talking about?” Charlotte’s brow furrows. “Time for what?”
I hate lying to my closest friend, especially after a lifetime of not being believed even when I was telling the truth. The only thing that makes it bearable is knowing this is what’s best for her. “Let me go find out,” I say, disengaging myself from her.
I feel her eyes on my back as I make my way through the buzzing crowd. Some of them are righting the downed chairs, some attempting to patch torn clothes, some blotting scratches.
“All right,” Mrs. Grant says when I reach the Sinsters. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll stand to the east, Louise to the west, Dru to the south, Jenny to the north, to magnify the force of our spell. Then, Rune, you will tell them to stand still and pay attention. And we will begin.”
“What—” I say. And then I understand.
I’m one of them, now. They want me to use my gift, not of seeing the future but of persuasion.
“You’ll need to be specific,” Mrs. Hernandez says. In the growing darkness, her gaze holds mine. “Don’t be afraid.”
The Sinsters take their places and begin to chant. The fiery chains encircle the crowd. And this time, when I speak, I make my words precise. I watch in awe as the crowd stills in response, as they listen when Mrs. Grant tells them to think of the most beautiful memory they’ve ever had. As Jenny tells them that they’ve just experienced something even better, something they’ll remember for the rest of their lives. And then I speak one more time, persuading them and the Blood Witches to go home.
Watching as they turn to leave, feeling my gift settle into place inside me, I feel complete. I’m not Rune Whitlock, the liar or Rune Whitlock, the weirdo or Rune Whitlock, the orphan who has no idea where she came from. I’m Rune Whitlock, born Iris Duval, daughter of David and Lorelai, seer and persuasio . I am among my people.
For the first time I can remember, I belong.