Page 76 of Captured in Love
I’d rather die on the spot than continue this conversation, but if I’m going to ask Nora’s father for help, I need to be honest with him, too.
“Mr. Moss, I need to tell you something.” I open my eyes to find Raphaël staring at me, shaking his head lightly. I go on despite that. “Last year, I found out my father was responsible for your wife’s death. He used a spell to damage her heart muscle and didn’t do anything to help when you asked him to.”
“Levi…” he starts to say.
I wish that was all, but it isn’t, so I take another painful breath and rush on, “And he told me today that he murdered her on the orders of a Scottish coven, the same one that organized the Games Nora and I entered last week.”
A sharp gasp from the other side has me finally shutting up.
“You’re participating in the Ballendial Games?” Nora’s father barks. “What on earth possessed you to do that?”
I blink, surprised at the urgency in his voice. “Nora wanted access to their library. She says she wants to make more magical knowledge public, but I really think she wants to make sure she has enough spells at her disposal to prevent you from suffering the same fate as her mom.”
Raphaël’s eyes widen at this. I haven’t voiced this suspicion yet, but I know Nora. Yes, she cares about her witchy knowledge repository project, and I know she’s working hard with her Alaskan friend to bring it to life, but there’s more than that driving her forward.
“Oh, Levi,” Mr. Moss sighs. “I didn’t know you knew about your father’s involvement in Moira’s death. I wish you had told me sooner. I could have helped you explain it to Nora.”
For a moment, I think I heard him wrong. But Raphaël’s shocked expression tells me I’m not dreaming.
“What?” I manage to force out. “You knew?”
Mr. Moss groans softly. “Yes, I knew. Moira figured it out when none of our attempts to heal her worked. We knew someone was causing the damage, someone strong, someone who had access to her in some way. Your father was the obvious candidate—a powerful healer who never liked our family.”
“But…” I search for the right words. “Why didn’t you report him? The coven would have—”
“We couldn’t,” Mr. Moss interrupts me. “By then, it was clear this was an assassination, and we knew who was pulling the strings. The Ballendial coven approached Moira several months prior to that, and they tried to recruit her to their side.”
My father said as much.
“Recruit her forwhat?” I ask, exasperated. “What did they want with her?”
Nora’s father pauses, and if I was standing in his shop with him, I’d take his shoulders and shake him to get the truth out.
“They’ve been putting their people at the head of every large coven in the world,” Mr. Moss says finally. “They either turn the existing leader to their side by threats and promises, or they…replace them.”
Pieces of the giant puzzle Nora, Raphaël, and I have been putting together since the start of the Games are finally falling into place.
“And the Games?” Raphaël asks, speaking for the first time.
“Is that Raphaël?” Mr. Moss asks.
“Yes,” I confirm.
Nora’s father clears his throat. “I thought I sensed someone else listening in. Right. The Games are a way for them to recruit new members—the best of the best. Witches powerful, cunning, and ruthless enough to survive all three tasks are exactly who they want.”
“But they’ve been holding them foryears,” I say. “Wouldn’t someone have found out about this?”
Nora’s father hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think this was the Games’ original purpose. But the modern generation of witches definitely works this way.”
I think of the Dorokhovs, the Russian couple who attacked us in the Egyptian bazaar, and, if our suspicions are correct, sent a massive, lethal sandstorm our way. Then I remember the friendly Brazilian witches, Nora’s friends, who didn’t rat us out to the organizers despite knowing that we were there under false pretenses. And there’s another small fact that doesn’t fit in with this theory.
“They’ve been trying to kill us since the first task,” I say. “They definitely aren’t looking to indoctrinate Nora and me to their freaky organization.”
Raphaël snaps his fingers. “Only the best and brightest get the invitation to the Games, yes? Maybe they’re killing two birds with one stone. They gather strong contestants who are willing to join their cause and at the same time, they quietly get rid of anyone who is strong enough to oppose them.”
A moment of silence descends on the car as we all think through the ramifications of Raphaël’s realization.
“Clearly, Nora and I didn’t make the cut,” I say dryly.
