again. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced that he didn’t just leave his Grimoire behind so that no one else would get their hands on it. Free security, courtesy of the family that he duped.”
“He must have set that trap with the bracelet, not knowing you would try to find him,” Genie said quietly, as if to herself.
I nodded. “I came to the same conclusion. He made it so that anyone who got hold of his Grimoire wouldn’t be able to trace him with it. And I was the idiot who attempted it, out of some stupid sense of wanting to know more about him. I should have stopped with my mum’s mantra, that ‘he was an arsehole who never deserved us.’ Though she always said she was glad to have met him, because she got me out of it.” I shrugged. “But I suppose that’s the stuff parents say so their kids don’t blame themselves.”
“You don’t look like him.” Genie narrowed her eyes, inspecting me. “No… you don’t look like him at all.”
I laughed bitterly. “Small mercies, I suppose.”
“Well, I can understand why you wanted to keep it under wraps,” Persie admitted, giving a low whistle of astonishment. “I’m not sure there’s anyone in the magical world who wouldn’t hear that name and freak out.”
I picked at the bracelet’s leather. “Exactly, which is why I never took his name. I am Nathan O’Hara, and I’ve never wanted to be anything else. If people knew about my father, they would never trust me, even if I didn’t give them a reason to doubt me.” I held Genie’s gaze for as long as she would let me. “Then, there’s the rarity of my ability itself to consider. There are some in this world who want all Necromancers dead or imprisoned, and there are others who would seek to use it for their own ends. So, I’ve done my best to stay off the radar.”
To my surprise, Genie shuffled to the edge of the bench and reached out, taking my face in her hands. “You are wonderful. You are not your father, and you are not defined by his name. You are you. And I owe you my life.” She laughed, her face lighting up. “Although it would’ve been fun to haunt you. You’d never be able to walk into a room again without wondering if I was there. Oh, and you can forget about showering.”
I gulped. “I already have my fears about that, thanks to your invisibility spell.”
“I know.” She winked, giggling in the cutest, most maniacal way as she toppled forward into my arms, holding me tightly. I didn’t know what else to do but hug her back, my hand resting on the indents of her ribs so I could feel every breath she took, grateful beyond comprehension that she was alive—and that she was still undeniably Genie. As she buried her face into the side of my neck, I heard the faintest sniffle. “Thank you, Nathan. Thank you so much for what you did. And, while I’m at it, thank you for being honest. I know who you are… and you’re nothing like your dad.”
My eyes prickled with tears. Those last four words were like a salve to the nightmare of being Davin Doncaster’s son. Not wanting Genie or Persie to see how moved I was, I held Genie tighter and concealed my face in the wet fabric of my jacket, still draped over her shoulders. Because of her, I’d used an ability and revealed a past that I had suppressed my entire life. And, because it was her, it felt utterly worthwhile. On the one hand, I was a firm believer that if it was your time to go, then you had to go. But that black-and-white notion could turn to shades of gray when it was someone you cared for deeply—that was a truth universally acknowledged by all Necromancers. If only the Purges afterward weren’t so horrific, I imagined many Necromancers would use their skills more often. I myself had forged a rock golem back there in the trees, which now lay safely inside the puzzle box. But even that unpleasant experience couldn’t dampen my joy at having Genie back.
“Let’s just not make this a frequent occurrence, okay? I’m not sure I could handle it,” I mumbled into Genie’s shoulder.
She laughed, her breath tickling the back of my neck. “Why, am I a bad hugger?”
“I… uh… meant the dying part.” My glasses started to fog up again,