Holy shit. If these really are genetic markers… Then what if ‘WDCC7’ indicates the presence of a marker for regular witches, the ones I’m descended from? And the ‘B’ in ‘BDCC8’ stands for ‘Blood Witch’?
If that’s the case, then Donovan’s father was a Blood Witch, and his mother must have been a regular one, like Cooper. Could that be why he’s a magical null—because the two markers canceled each other out? But does it also make him something unique, something that, when linked to me, somehow has the potential to wreak havoc on the magical world?
I’m in way over my head here. I need to call the Sinsters. But Rosa took my phone, and Donovan’s, too. And there’s no landline in this cabin.
I turn to Donovan, who’s still staring at his father’s name. “I need to call Charlotte,” I tell him. I have her number memorized; she can reach out to Mrs. Fontaine, Mrs. Grant, or Mrs. Hernandez for me. “Can you dial out on FaceTime?”
“Sure.” He drums on the desk again, faster this time. “She’s a lawyer, right? But before you talk to her, we need to think, Rune. Yeah, this looks bad, but we don’t know what we’ve found, not for sure. Plus, the way I got this information is about as far from being on the up-and-up as it gets. And?—”
He’s still in the middle of his recitation when all of the scroll-and-dagger symbols flare. The overhead lights flicker and die. And then, with a sizzling sound reminiscent of a steak on agrill, Donovan’s laptop’s screen blinks once, twice, and then goes completely black.
Swearing, he punches the power button again and again. It’s no use. His computer is dead.
And with it, our best way of communicating with anyone who isn’t on this mountain.
Chapter
Fifty
“You’ve gotto be kidding me.” Donovan glares at his laptop, which is doing its best impersonation of the world’s most expensive paperweight. “How—why?—”
He inspects the laptop, muttering about the battery and the fan and God knows what else. I watch him, not saying a word. Because I have a sinking suspicion that what just went wrong has nothing to do with technical difficulties and everything to do with the Blood Witches.
Somehow, they’ve found out that we hacked into the database. That we’re on to them. And I’m sure there’s going to be hell to pay.
“Grab your stuff,” I tell Donovan. “We need to get out of here.”
“Yeah? And go where?” He sets the laptop down on the desk. “We need to get our phones back, in case you’ve forgotten. And no matter what we suspect Ethan might be involved in, we’re still on company time.”
I throw my hands in the air, narrowly avoiding one of the flaming brands. “Listen to yourself!On company time—really? Have you forgotten every single damn thing that’s happenedsince we got here this morning? Or the fact that Ethan’s tracking all of us using information that he’s probably obtained in a way that’s illegal as hell?” Stabbing an accusatory finger at his laptop, I say, “Whatever happened to ‘Twice is a coincidence. This many times is a data set worthy of analysis’?You think it’s coincidental that your computer died? Or do you think it’s more likely that Ethan knows what we just did?”
Donovan pales. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles. “Okay, fine. We’ll go back to your cabin and get your stuff. Then we can leave. We’ll, I don’t know, go to the cops. Or talk to Charlotte. Whatever. We can figure it out when we get back to Sapphire Springs.”
“I can’t get my stuff,” I say. “My keys are in my purse. Which are in the retreat center with my phone.” All of which is pretty damn convenient.Tooconvenient. After everything that’s happened, how could I be so trusting?
“I have my keys.” He stands, grabbing his laptop and stuffing it into his messenger bag. “I agree with you, things here are getting way too fishy for comfort. Why don’t I drive you up to the retreat center, and you can run in and get your purse. Then I’ll take you back to your cabin, you’ll get your car, and we’ll get the hell out of Dodge.”
It makes me a little anxious to think about spending even that much extra time here. But I hate the idea of leaving my wallet and phone behind. “Okay,” I say, giving him a weak smile. “Maybe I’ll even change.”
Donovan winks at me. “Unnecessary, Chaos,” he says. “I like you just like this.”
My mouth falls open. But before I can respond, he crosses to the bedside table and snags a few items, sliding them back into his duffel. “Luckily, I didn’t actually unpack. Who would believe this fucking bullshit? I’m telling you, whatever explanation there is for this whole mess better be a damn good one, because…”
He’s still talking when the premonition hits me in the chest with the force of a punch. I fall to my knees on the hardwood, gasping for breath. It feels like the lake all over again, like drowning. But this time, what fills my lungs isn’t water.
It’s blood.
There’s no door. No undertow. I’m thigh-deep in a crimson ocean, the waves smacking into me with concussive force, threatening to drag me under.Our day has comeechoes in my head over and over again, ringing in my ears.Our time is now.
And oh God, it’s Ethan’s voice.
“Rune!” Through the red haze that consumes my vision, I can see Donovan kneeling in front of me. He grips my upper arms, holding tight. “What’s happening? Are you hurt?”
I suck in air, wanting to tell him not to touch me. Because every time he does, the world breaks a little more. But I can’t manage to form a word.
Does that mean Ethan was the one…that he…
Ethan’s voice rises, until it’s all I can hear. But on its heels comes another one, even louder.Fight it, Rune,the second voice pleads.Fighthim.
