Russell's eyes move over Katherine, supine on their bed. She's staring up at the ceiling, fingers of her left hand ghosting over her right, both resting over her belly. 

He recalls the first time he saw her, pale and blue-lipped in that creek. Their first conversation at the bar, where not only was she drunk, but high on pills, as he's just come to realize. She was so angry then, venom coating even her sweetest of words, malice in every sharp-toothed-edge of her smile.

"Kat?" He asks, closing the door behind him. She doesn't answer, only blinks, and continues to stare at the ceiling. He pads for the bed and sits on her side with a sigh before nudging a plate towards her. 

"I'm not hungry," she murmurs.

"Yeah y'are," he returns, just as quietly, and brushes the backs of his fingers against her cheek, wiping a stream of tears with them. 

"How could they do it?" Katherine croaks. Betrayal swirls in her stomach, molten and rotten. Grief rips a hole in her chest. Russell eyes the bottle of pills above her head, and his heart sinks. 

"How many did you take?" He asks, dread weighing his voice and soul.

Katherine sniffs, and a fresh bout of hot tears runs down her cheek. "I can't do it," she whispers.

"Yes, you can." Slowly, she shakes her head. "Yes, Katherine." She sobs, covering her face. Plate set on the nightstand, Russell moves to pull her up to him. He curls his arms around her, and she cries into his chest, fingers hooking into his ribs. 

"I don't know why," Russell murmurs. He really doesn't know anything about the Donovans. He didn't ask any questions last night after Mitch showed up, though doubt, disbelief, confusion, betrayal burned through his body. She said she had no one. And three family members drop out of the sky within a week. 

It was hard not to feel duped.

"Mitchy ran away when he was seven," Katherine murmurs against his skin, some time later. Her breathing has evened, her face is tight with dried tears, and her eyes are heavy. Bloodshot, they settle on a set of bruises on his bicep. Bruises she caused, and she doesn't even remember it. Guilt spears her stomach. "He didn't want to hunt, and he was brave enough to get away from it. At seven, he could do what I still can't." She closes her eyes, loosing a breath through her nose. "I never heard from him again. Mom never said anything, but she pretended to look with us, I guess. Called the police...called family..." She shakes her head, and disdain for her mother burns in her chest. She's never been angry with her mother. Never. 

Russell's warm hand runs between her shoulder blades. It feels like a safety and comfort she's never known before, and marvels at the feeling, lets herself fall into it, trust it. 

"You're starting to make a lot more sense," Russell whispers, and despite herself, she lets out a quiet laugh. His fingers run along the ends of her hair, sending shivers up her scalp. "We can leave, if that's what you want," he quietly says. "Whenever you want." 

"You won't think I'm a coward?"

Russell breathes out a laugh, then presses a kiss to her forehead. "I could never think that about you." His fingers lightly scratch her shoulder. "You're the toughest person I know. I just...feel like you've been the bug lately."

Her mouth twists into a frown, and she pulls away from him. "The bug?"

"Yeah." He frowns a little. "You haven't heard that before? 'Be the windshield, not the bug'?"

"No," Katherine murmurs.

He hums, dark eyes roaming her face like it's the first time he's seeing her. Drinking her in. It's nice, to be looked at like that. "My mom said it to me a lot. 'Be the windshield.'"

Katherine hums herself, closing her eyes at the feel of his fingers in her hair. "I like that."

"Kind of profound, right?" Russell agrees. Katherine chuckles. 

"Be the windshield," she hums. 

 ✕

Katherine and Mitch could pass as twins. The structure of their faces are the same. Both have deep set eyes, though hers are rounder. Similar rounding at the chin, square to their jaws, leopard spot freckles, same true hair color, same hairline. 

They even have the same mannerisms. The way they frown, how they roll their eyes, cross their arms. Russell has seen the arrogance in Mitch's shoulders in Katherine's, at one time. 

Mitch graduated from Georgia in May, dual-majored in psychology and classics, and is slated to begin teaching Psych 101 in Athens at the end of the month. He's brilliant, like Russell knows Katherine is. It's a feeling in the soul, in the bones. 

Surprisingly, though Russell isn't sure why, he's bestowed with the gift of magic. Strange, that both surviving Donovan children, who really aren't Donovans by blood, have been gifted.

It's two o'clock, and Katherine and Russell sit in the massive study downstairs with half a dozen books open between both of them. Bookshelves full of grimoires, ancient texts, histories, and journals line the walls. It smells like a library would. Old parchment. 

The table they're sat at is huge and circular, the edge carved with various letters and vine and leaf patterns. There are seventeen chairs at this massive round table, though to Katherine's right and three chairs down, one sits a little larger than the others. Solid wood, padded with rich green velvet, as opposed to the lighter blue of the other sixteen. 

This is where the coven will meet in less than an hour.

"Do you want to go to the council meeting?" Russell asks across from her.

Katherine looks up from her book, eyebrows knit together and lips puckered. Her eyes flit to the clock on the wall. "Do you?" She returns. 

Russell's dark eyes meet her own, and they hold there for several long moments before he speaks. "This isn't my decision," he says. "It's yours."

"You know what they're gonna do though, right?" Katherine asks, leaning back in her chair. "Parade us in front of them. First in fifty years of their coven to have a familiar. First Donovan in a century. We're gonna be toys, Russell." The past twenty-four hours have worn on her freshly-formed opinion of her family. Though she was initially cautiously trusting and optimistic, she's staunchly cold and guarded. 

It's like Russell said earlier, about finally beginning to understand her.

Her father is starting to make more sense to her, too.

Russell just looks at her. "But how many opportunities are you going to get to see this?" He asks. 

Katherine scoffs. "You're thinking of this as an opportunity and not exploitation?"

Russell shrugs. Katherine stares at him, fury burning in her eyes as she taps her fingers against the book. "Fine," she finally mutters. 

Cars began to file down the drive not a moment before or after three o'clock. Very normal cars. Camrys, Escalades, Tahoes. 

The women aren't matronly, like Russell thought they'd be. They look as though they're anywhere from thirty to Lois' age...however old she is.

They all look to Katherine's car as they make their way to the porch, where Louise greets them with an open door and a smile. Fifteen women, and she knows all of their names. Katherine didn't bother to retain them, but she does note the way they all look at Russell. The simpering smiles and the shy eyes.

"A little word of advice?" Mitch says from behind her. She spares a glance up at him. Up, at her little brother. "Don't speak out of turn. They'll turn your mouth into a zipper and close it. And they might conveniently forget to undo the zipper spell." 

Katherine looks to Russell, raising an eyebrow. When he doesn't protest, she files into the room behind Mitch.

The three of them are sat on the bench built into the wall, and the fifteen women, plus Lois and Louise, are sat at a massive round table. When the seventeen women join hands, the lights turn off. Plunged into total darkness, Katherine grabs Russell's knee and reaches for the knife holstered at the back of her jeans. The room is pitch black and totally silent. 

And then the table begins to glow. Rich light flows along the edge of the table, like lava, setting the characters and vines carved there aglow. In unison, the coven speaks a single sentence, which Katherine didn't catch. It's foreign. It's Latin.

Candles come to life in a single loud whisper, and the room is cast into a warm glow. Candles line the built-in ledges along the four walls. 

Katherine's fingers tighten on Russell's knee, and he rests his hand over hers, fingers delicately curving around her wrist. Just sitting there, like the mere touch of her skin brings him comfort.

"Salve," Lois says. "Grata."

The cogs in Katherine's mind turn for a moment. She's greeting the coven. Hello, welcome. Jesus, is this whole thing going to be in Latin?

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Lois continues, in English. Oh, thank fuck. "You might notice we have new faces in this room. My granddaughter, Katherine Louise." Everyone looks at her. Katherine freezes, fingers stuck around the hilt of her knife. Russell tightens his fingers around her free wrist. "Her familiar, Russell Taylor." Katherine's eyes snap to Lois in fury. Whispers engulf the room.

"How the fuck does she know your last name?" Katherine hisses.

"I don't know," he returns, equally as soft. Unease turns his stomach. With his full name, any of these witches could set a curse on him. Hex him.

Every eye at the table turns to Russell. Smiles brighten the severe lines of shadow on the witches' faces. Katherine can't tell what kind of smiles they are, but they don't seem threatening. Her heart pounds in her ears. 

Mitch's hand wraps around her forearm, the one tucked behind her back, and slowly brings her arm to rest at her side. He pats her hand and returns his hands to her lap. 

No one is saying anything.

Everyone turns to look at Lois again, who is standing now. "When Mitch came to us fourteen years ago, you saw into his heart and knew he was good, and you gave your blessing for him to practice magic under our wing." Lois looks at every woman around the table. Katherine's eyes snap to Mitch. His spine goes rigid at the coolness of her glare, but he doesn't meet her gaze. Witch? It's a hiss in her mind. "I am again putting forth a member of my family to ask for your blessing."

"Come stand before us," a woman says, her voice smooth and confident and commanding. Lois extends her arm to her side, looking at Katherine. Her mouth has gone dry. 

Katherine stands, and Russell's fingers slip from her wrist. All sense of security, of comfort, has gone. She takes one step towards Lois before the same voice calls out, "And your familiar, young one."

Katherine's eyes search the table for the owner of that voice, but every pair of eyes is on her. It's impossible to tell who spoke. She looks behind her, eyes sweeping his face. He stands up and follows behind her. They stand at the head of the table, and Lois has shifted into a corner, hands folded in front of her. Her face is unreadable.

"You wish to practice magic?" The same voice asks. Katherine found the owner. A woman who couldn't be more than ten years older, tanned skin, dark features. Almond eyes. She's at the far end of the table, sitting tall. 

"Not necessarily," Katherine says. 

"Then why are you here?" The woman asks. 

"They asked me to come," Katherine replies. 

"Do you have the gift?"

Katherine purses her lips. "I've cast a few spells before," she admits. "Several months ago. I haven't bothered since."

"Why?"

Katherine shrugs. "I don't have the need for it."

"What spells did you cast?"

Katherine sizes up the woman directly across from her. "Who are you?" She asks. The coven whispers amongst themselves. The woman just smiles.

"My name is Lena Dunhaven," she replies. "We have a common ancestor. Katherine Yates."

Yates... "She was burned during the Witch Trials," Katherine hums. 

Lena nods once. "To avoid persecution, her second son changed his last name to Dunhaven."

"Similar enough, I guess," Katherine remarks. 

"Which spells did you cast?" Lena asks again.

"A tracking spell," the huntress responds. "And one to lock a barn."

"Why?"

Katherine's tongue mashes against the roof of her mouth. Russell watches her throat bob. "To find a demon," she responds. "And to trap one." More voices, at conversation level. They aren't whispering anymore. 

"Ladies," Louise cautions. 

"Did you bargain with this demon for your power?" Lena asks, to which Katherine instantly snarls,

"No."

Lena's dark eyes glint. "Which demon were you trying to find?"

Katherine takes a deep, stilling breath. "Lilith."

The room explodes into chaos.