Chapter 88 88

Chapter 88 Part 2-Chapter 5
The drawing sat in the center of Cyne’s desk like it had been waiting for the exact moment to ruin my sense of reality. Every time I looked away, my eyes found their way back to it. The faded pencil lines. The braid over the woman’s shoulder. The pendant at her throat. The date: 1640

Raines hovered near the window, chewing the inside of her cheek like she was trying not to say something that wanted out anyway. The faint rays of sun peeking through the overcast skies etched the city into soft shapes, the whole skyline smudged into a watercolor of shadows.

“She could be your grandmother,” Raines finally murmured.

I didn’t look up. “She’s too old to be my grandmother.”

“You know what I mean,” she scolded with a breath, annoyed but understanding the point. “Okay, fine. Then she’s…what? A twin from another century? A cosmic coincidence? A trick of genetics? A long-lost relative nobody in your family felt like mentioning?”

My stomach twisted. “I don’t know.”

She crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall. “Well, somebody knew. And Cyne definitely knew.”

That burned. God, it burned.

“Why wouldn’t he tell us?” I whispered.

Raines pushed her hair back. “Because he doesn’t tell us anything unless we rip it out of him.”

She wasn’t wrong. But this wasn’t just another secret. This felt like standing in front of a locked door with a key already turning on the other side.

I dragged a hand down my face. “If she’s part of my lineage…then this cult, this symbol, whatever they want…it’s not random. It’s inherited.”

Raines uncrossed her arms. “And that means what, exactly?”

“That means they’ve been waiting for someone. Someone in her line,” I answered.

“And that someone is you,” she agreed.

The words landed like a stone in my stomach.

I sat down slowly, staring at the woman’s eyes in the sketch. They weren’t mine, not exactly. But there was a shape to them, a tilt, a focus. Not soft. Not timid. A woman who knew people watched her and wasn’t bothered by it.

“Cyne drew this,” I murmured. “He drew her.”

Raines approached cautiously. “Maybe she was someone he knew.”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t draw people casually. He doesn’t draw anything casually. And look.” I flipped the page over. In the corner, faint but visible: one word.

Marked.

Raines blew out a breath. “Well, that’s comforting.”

My throat tightened. “He knew about this long before any of us did.”

“And he never said a damn word,” Raines muttered. “Of course he didn’t.”

A faint ache pulsed at the base of my skull, the same pull I always felt when Cyne was near. Weak today. Thin. Like a radio signal struggling through static. But there. Still there.

Raines noticed me go still. “You okay?”

“He’s trying to reach us,” I whispered. “I can feel it.”

“Is that…normal?” she quizzed.

I shook my head. “No.”

She blinked. “Do I want to know how you know that?”

“No,” I told her truthfully.

“Well great. Fantastic.” She threw her arms up. “Perfectly normal day at work.”

I studied the sketch again. The pendant in the drawing matched the one in my pocket. Perfectly. Down to the smallest carved line.

“They didn’t just take him,” I said slowly. “They’re using him.”

Raine’s raised an eyebrow. “Using him how?”

I shifted, agitated. “To get to me.”

Raines groaned. “Yeah, we covered that part.”

“No,” I said, tapping the drawing. “Not just emotionally. Strategically. Whoever she was? She mattered. Enough that Cyne carried her image with him for…God knows how long.”

“And now they want you,” she interjected.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Because of her.”

Raines rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, I’m not an expert in whatever this is, but is it possible Cyne thought telling you would make you run?”

I lifted my eyes. She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the full picture.

“He didn’t tell me,” I whispered, “because he thought he could handle it alone.”

Raines barked a laugh. “Well, that went great for him.”

I smiled despite the ache in my chest.

Raines sobered. “So what now? What’s the plan? Because sitting around waiting for another envelope seems like an excellent way to lose my remaining sanity.”

I stood, slipping the drawing into a plastic sleeve. “We organize.”

Raine’s huffed. “We’ve organized.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We reacted. Now we start acting.”

Raines narrowed her eyes. “Sponsor…what are you planning?”

I grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair. “We go to the archives.”

She frowned. “City archives?”

“No.” I held up the pendant. “This symbol? It’s older than any city record. Older than any cult we've dealt with. We need origin. We need translation. We need someone who recognizes this for what it actually is.”

“And where do we find that?” Raines asked, palms lifting in exasperation. “The library of eldritch horrors? A historian who only works in the dead of night? Some paranormal professor with a doctorate in Bad Decisions?”

“Maybe,” I said dryly. “If they’re available.”

She gave me a look. “Sponsor.”

“We’re going to someone who deals in the occult,” I stated.

“Oh, good,” she muttered. “Love that journey for us.”

“The only question,” I continued, “is whether he’ll talk to us.”

Raines froze. “He? You already have someone in mind?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Raines gazed at me, waiting, then muttered with frustration, “Who?”

I slipped the pendant back into my pocket with a quiet click. “Vargas.”

Raines’s face went blank. “Absolutely not. He’s a fraud. An opportunistic creep. And the only reason he’s not in jail is because none of his clients reported him.”

“He’s also the only person in Seattle who has seen this symbol before.”

Raines stared at me. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Because the last time Cyne saw him, he came back…different,” I informed her.

Raines blinked. “Different how?”

I swallowed. “Angrier.”

Silence fell again, thick and heavy.

Finally she sighed. “Great. So we’re going to see a guy who pisses off vampires. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Plenty,” I admitted. “But we don’t have a choice.”

Raines pushed herself off the wall. “Fine. But if this ends with me getting cursed, haunted, or accidentally adopted into a demon family, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair,” I shot back.

We grabbed our coats and stepped toward the door. But just before I turned off the light, my gaze drifted back to the drawing one last time. Her eyes…my eyes…seemed to stare back with a knowing calm, as if she’d been waiting for me to catch up. A chill tightened around my spine…not of danger…but of recognition.

I closed the door behind us. Whatever came next…it wasn’t just a hunt anymore. It was a resurrection.