“The key is fine. The car is fine. It just had its thirty-thousand-mile tune-up. Look at it!” He gestures around his perfectly maintained vehicle, which doesn’t have so much as an abandoned coffee cup or granola bar wrapper. “My Prius is in perfect condition. It just won’t start. Watch.” Scooping up the smart key, he brings it closer to the Power button, then presses the button again. “If the key’s battery was on the fritz, this would help. But see? Jack shit. This makes no logical sense, but it’s like whatever fried my computer…also fried my car.”
“Or,” I say, my heart sinking, “like whoever fried your computer and your car…has no intention of letting us leave.”
Chapter
Fifty-One
Donovanand I stare at each other, dumbfounded.Helooks 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 tokillyou.”
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 youdoing?”
“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 Ethankilled your parents?” His voice cracks. “If you really believe that, Rune, you should go to the police. You should?—”
“Your brotheristhe 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 youfeel.”
“I remember.” My voice is a whisper.
“Well, that’s what you make me do, all the time. You make mefeel,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 ofyou.”
“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 likeyou’rethe one who didn’t believeme.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.”
