Chapter
Fifty-Four
A fond,indulgent grin lifts Ethan’s lips. I want to smack it right off his face.
“Oh, I don’t think so, Rune.” He snaps his fingers, and Ellen comes forward, a blade across her palms. Engraved in the metal hilt is the all-too-familiar scroll-and-dagger.
I know this blade. I’ve seen it, right before Cooper used it to cut Donovan’s throat.
Terror sweeps me, and a crimson wave obscures my vision. When it clears, Ethan has claimed the blade and is tracing the tip along the inside of his forearm. A bead of blood wells up, and I watch in horror as the scroll-and-dagger tattoo blooms beneath it.
It’s happening. Donovan is going to die right in front of me and I won’t be able to stop it. And then what? Will they kill everyone in the crowd? My neighbors? My friends?
Will they kill me too? Or leave me alive after they force me to witness the slaughter of everyone I care about? Will they use me for their own purposes, again and again?
My breath rasps, harsh and panicked. I have to think of something. To get us out of this. But how? A cursed womanand a magic-less man raised for slaughter, against an army of manipulated people and a coven of Blood Witches…what do I think I can do? And where is that damn High Priestess who’s supposed to be so all-powerful?
Ethan passes the blade to Jack. To Jill. To Georgia. To Dean and the rest. One by one, they cut their arms with it, muttering the incantation. And one by one, that tattoo seeps to the surface of their skin. Just like in my premonitions, they dip their fingers in their own blood, then flick them outward. The scroll-and-dagger symbol emblazons itself in the air of the meadow. It hangs above the crowd, who tilts their heads back to regard it, mouths dropping open in awe.
Ethan’s acolytes stand in a semicircle, bleeding and smiling. Waiting. All except Cooper, who grips Donovan’s shoulder, and Rosa, who is guarding me.
There are no robes. No hoods. No wedding dress or rose petals scattered in the grass. But my nightmare is gnawing at the edges of reality, just the same.
“I know you and Donovan hacked into my files. Tsk, tsk,” Ethan says, wagging a finger at both of us. “So you’ve probably surmised that the blood drive we held at that cutesy little fair was an excuse to discover who in Sapphire Springs might have magical blood.”
“That information wasn’t yours to access!”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” Ethan says. “It’ll all be ours eventually, anyhow.”
The red haze bites at my vision, inevitability barreling down on me. Desperate, I press him for answers. This is his master plan. Surely he’ll glory in explaining himself, and that can buy us some time. “What did you need it for, anyway? What have you done to them?”
Ethan’s gaze drifts to the mute, enraptured crowd, following the argument between us as if they’re watching an intriguingplay. “I told you our powers are weakening, Rune. Humiliating, really. But that’s what happens when you force an ancient, powerful magical line to live in the shadows. Our bloodlines become diluted.” He heaves a put-upon sigh. “You can think of them as batteries, charging us until we take back what’s rightfully ours.”
I stare at Charlotte’s blank face, horrified. At the Sinsters’ glazed eyes and parted lips. “Out of all the people who submitted to that drive,” I say, revelation breaking over me, “these are the ones who had magical blood, Coven and Blood Witch alike. You brought them here somehow. And now you’re…what, siphoning them?”
“Very good, Rune.” He throws back his head and laughs. “To activate our gifts when we sacrifice loverboy here”—he nudges Donovan with a sneakered foot—“we need a stronger power base than the two of you can provide. No offense,” he says with a jovial grin.
“Oh, none taken.” My tone is as sarcastic as it gets, and Rosa narrows her eyes, yanking on the rope that binds my hands behind me. Pain shoots through my wrists, and she gives me a self-satisfied smile.Bitch.When I get free, I’m going to kick her ass.
“Sapphire Springs has always drawn those with power.” Ethan runs his finger over his tattoo. “The ley lines called our families here long ago, Blood Witches and Coven members alike. I knew there had to be those with latent gifts among us. Harvesting their blood samples was easy enough. But figuring out the right spell to use…well, that took work. We discovered it just in time.” He gives the crowd a paternal smile. “You see what we can do with a tiny bit of their blood. Once we overthrow the Coven, we’ll collect samples nationwide to fuel our reign. Not that we’ll need nearly as much borrowed power, thanks to you and Frost here.”
From behind his gag, Donovan makes an ominous sound. He’s saying something, but it’s too garbled to make out. In frustration, he twists his head left and right, chewing at the cloth, but it’s no use. Pained, I look away from him, at Jenny, who’s devoted her life to saving animals. Mrs. Grant, whose milkshakes have seen me through many a heartbreak. Mrs. Fontaine, who was there for me in my darkest days. Charlotte, my best friend. All of them, made into zombies to serve this asshole’s insane cause.
Keep him talking,I remind myself. When he’s talking, he isn’t killing. “So the project Donovan and I were working on—was that just an excuse to bring the two of us together?”
Ethan shrugs. “Mina told us you needed to have genuine feelings for each other for the sacrifice to be effective. That you couldn’t help but fall in love as soon as you met. So we dangled a great job offer for Donovan, something he couldn’t resist. When the time was right, we invited you to collaborate with him.”
“You manipulated him into moving to Sapphire Springs?” I say as Donovan growls from behind his gag. “You tricked him?”
“We offered him a great job!” Ethan says, sounding almost offended. “And sure, the project was an excuse for you to meet. But it had a purpose, too. As we broaden our reach, we’ll need a better system to analyze the data we collect. Alas, Donovan never got to perfect his database, but techies like him are a dime a dozen.”
Fucker. “Not to me!”
“Of course not.” Ethan claps delightedly. “That’s what makes this so perfect. And we’re almost ready.”
Donovan yells something indecipherable. His chair rocks back and forth as he tries to free himself, but Cooper holds him still, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the blade. “Don’t fight, bro,” he says. “This will happen no matter what. You’re making it worse.”
Ethan is a lost cause. But maybe Cooper will still listen to me. “You pretended to be a member of the Coven,” I say, desperation making my voice hoarse. “To be looking out for him. And all along, you were planning to kill him—your own brother! What the hell is wrong with you? How…how are you possibly going to face your mother after this?”
