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, somethingthey’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 notRune Whitlock, the liarorRune Whitlock, the weirdoorRune 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.
Chapter
Sixty
“So,”Donovan says. “Do you want me to go?”
It’s three in the morning, and we’re standing on the front porch of my cottage. After hours of cleanup and a whole bunch of spellwork by the Sinsters—not to mention High Priestess Marilyn, who showed up at the eleventh hour and was Big Mad at me for taking matters into my own hands—we’re back in Sapphire Springs. Both of our cars started right up, surprising me not one bit. Somehow, the Blood Witches must have channeled the ley line energy to mess with their electrical systems. Donovan’s laptop is okay, too. But even though I told him I was fine, he insisted on following me all the way home, just to make sure I got there safely.
I argued with him, but honestly? Not too hard. Because having him a few car lengths behind me was still too far away.
“No,” I tell him, staring up into those eyes of his, the ones that will never cease to mesmerize me. “I don’t want you to go anywhere. Unless you’re tired?”
A slow smile lifts his lips. “I could sleep here, maybe.”
