“What about all that crap about ley lines and power, then?” Donovan says, interrupting my train of thought. “Why would Coop say he warned you about them? And what was he talking about when he said someone sent him to stop you, before you killed us all?”
Oh, crap. “I can give you two answers. One you won’t believe. The other you might accept.”
He glares at me. “All I want is the truth.”
I give “the truth” one last desperate try. “Would you believe that your brother is a witch, that he knows I’m cursed to see thefuture but have no one take my premonitions seriously, and that he wants me to stay away from you because he knows I foresaw your death? That on our wedding day, you’ll die at the altar? That there are ley lines beneath Sapphire Springs, wellsprings of magic, and Cooper thinks if you and I are together, we’ll break those wide open and destroy the world?”
Donovan gives me a disgusted look from beneath lowered brows. “Not this again. Christ. You had me row all the way out to the middle of this goddamn lake so no one can hear us, just to feed me some stupid fairytale?”
Exasperation floods me. “What do you think those lines of blue light were, then, Donovan? How about the mini-quake that caused them?”
“I have no damn idea. Bad engineering. Toxic chemicals. Not fucking Tinkerbell!”
The wind gusts, blowing my sweaty hair back from my face. I breathe in the smell of the lake, brine laced with a faint hint of sulfur, and try again. “If you don’t like that explanation, then let’s go with the idea that your brother’s unhinged, and he’s in league with our corrupt boss.”
“That’s a serious accusation, Rune.” We’ve reached the center of the lake, and he stills the oars. “I admit Ethan didn’t demonstrate the best judgment today. But it’s a far leap from that to an accusation of corruption.”
“Look,” I say desperately. “What do we actually know about the purpose of the database we’re working on, or the client we’re working on it for? When’s the last time you were given a project with so little information to go on?”
“Well, never, but I’m sure Ethan has a?—”
“A what? A good reason? I’m telling you, something’s fishy at Smashbox. Why would Ethan need Cooper up here to work security? Security for what? It’s a freaking mountain retreat.Besides, who the hell has a retreat with an escape room like the one we just went through? Something isn’t adding up.”
The sunlight gleams off Donovan’s black hair as he tilts his head. “I hear you, Rune. I don’t disagree. But what would you like me to do about it?”
I draw a deep breath of the briny air, then go for it. “I want you to hack into Ethan’s personal files.”
His eyes widen. “Excuse me? That’s a serious violation of privacy. Not to mention, illegal. I’ve told you and told you, I’m not a hacker.”
“But you know how to, right? It’s a matter of morals, not ability, yes?”
Donovan nods, grudgingly. “Yes, but?—”
“Just think about it. It’s a matter of doing something illegal this one time, or maybe being party to a whole bunch of illegal acts to set up and market a database whose purpose we don’t understand.”
“This isn’t fair, Rune.” He shakes his head, as if to shake me out of it. “You know I w?—”
It’s possible he was going to say any number of things:You know I won’t. You know I will. You know I want you.But before he can get any of them out of his mouth, the water beneath us heaves, like we’re in the midst of a storm-tossed ocean. Whitecaps shudder across the surface of the lake, and the boat rolls heavily to one side, then the other. Cold water splashes over the side of the hull, dousing me, and I shriek, clinging to my seat for dear life.
“Shit!” Donovan’s face pales as he reaches for me. His fingers graze the skin of my arm, their touch sending that familiar electric sensation shooting through my body. And then the wind picks up speed, a rogue wave breaks across the bow, and the boat capsizes, sending us plummeting into the lake.
Chapter
Forty-Seven
The water is freezing—faricier than it ought to be. The cold penetrates my entire body, sending pain shooting through every limb. I gasp, flailing, but it’s no use. Another wave swamps me, and I have a split second to suck in a breath before my head goes under. The current tugs at me as I kick for the surface, unable to tell the difference between up and down. My lungs burn as I fight not to inhale.
Maybe Donovan doesn’t die at the altar because of me, but right now, here, in this freaking lake. Maybe the red tide was some kind of metaphor.
Oh, God, Donovan. Where is he?
I force my eyes open, but all I can see is churning water. The cold gnaws at my bones with eager teeth.Surrender,it whispers.You’ll be safe here, with me.
The hell with that. I kick for all I’m worth and, by a miracle, my head breaks the surface. The water is a sea of whitecaps, stirred into a frenzy by the wind. I suck in a blessed gulp of air, searching for Donovan as I struggle to stay afloat.
He’s nowhere. I call his name, but a gust swallows it, whipping lake water into my open mouth. It tastes bitter, like defeat and grief and rage.
No.No.I am not going to die this way. And I’ll be damned if I’ll lose him.
