Chapter 17
Connor
The silence fills the room with a crushing ring, all of us transfixed on the girl in my arms and the friend that disappeared. Callie shows no signs of change, her outside the picture of calm while the monsters rage within.
“Did it work?” Nolan croaks, first to puncture the quiet.
“We won’t know until Felix comes back,” Kaleb answers with a troubled sigh. “Now we wait.”
Donovan crosses his arms, the leather of his jacket creaking, and his jaw is clenched. “How long do we wait?”
Kaleb cuts him a startled expression, Donovan’s real question underlying his words. How long do we wait before we think Felix is lost?
“Could you hold off on worst case scenarios for like five minutes?” Nolan snaps.
His skin is paler than normal and though I can smell the perfume of the girl he was with at the party, I don’t smell blood. One problem at a time.
“Yes,” Mildred declares, straightening her spine. “You told me to have faith in your friend, so have faith. Settle in and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll go heat the kettle. She’ll want something hot to drink when she wakes up.”
Nolan sits back down, pulling Callie’s feet into his lap. He rubs his fingers along her ankles, soles, and toes.
Kaleb settles on the other side of me, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. His hands curl into straining fists, before he slowly relaxes and drops them limp in his lap.
Donovan paces the handful of feet that mark the living room. With every pass, his eyes flash to Callie, his scowl shifting to open fear as the minutes tick by.
After about five minutes, he drops to his knees in front of her. He pulls her hand from under the blanket, his thumb gently running along her knuckles. He looks down onto her sleeping face that still rests against my chest, and with the gravel heavy in his voice, he utters, “You’re stronger than this. You tell whatever, or whoever, the fuck that is messing inside your head to fuck off.” He sniffs. “Then you and I are going to have a conversation. You’re one of us, which means your bullshit is our bullshit, and this disappearing on us is not okay. You’re not fighting this shit alone. Not anymore.”
“You should be a poet,” Nolan chuckles, leaning sideways against the couch.
He rolls his eyes then moves to get himself more comfortable on the floor, clearly needing to be closer to her like the rest of us.
After another eight minutes, according to the clock on the wall, Mildred returns from the kitchen with a steaming mug of earl grey tea, the bitter scent offset with milk and sugar. She places it on a small table near a black armchair that matches the couch.
“Would any of you like some tea while you wait?” She offers, her posture straight and hands loosely clasped. When we all shake our heads no, she sits down in the chair. Carefully sipping her tea, she looks at all of us. “It appears Callie has kept some things from me. Can I assume that since you’ve told her what she is, she also knows what all of you are?”
“Yes,” Kaleb replies, his eyes cracking open. “The basics anyway.”
“How do you know?” Nolan presses, suspicious. “Can you just tell by looking at us?”
She raises a single blonde brow. “You are looking a bit peaky, dear, but no. Research. When Callie told me who you were, I looked into your families. As you know, this town is fairly small.”
I tense, worried what she’s learned about the Alpha. It’s no secret that he’s a bastard, but as long as he sticks to the pack, no one interferes.
“I’m not like him,” I declare flat out, needing her to understand that I would never hurt Callie.
Her eyes soften, and her voice is barely above a whisper but easily heard in the waiting quiet, “I can see that.”
Releasing a deep breath, I relax some, relieved that it doesn’t look like she’ll try to keep me from Callie. I look back down at the girl in my arms. She’s so small, I can’t help thinking. Awake there’s an energy about her, a fierce sharpness that demands to be acknowledged, whether she realizes it or not. There’s a knowing in her gaze born from experience that feels impossible for someone so little. What have you survived?
More minutes tick by, then Kaleb sits up. He gently squeezes Callie’s shoulder before turning his attention to Mildred. His deep voice even and tired, he asks, “Why was Callie kept in the dark all these years? Why didn’t she know she was a witch?”
Callie’s aunt takes another careful sip of her tea. “I’d rather wait until Callie’s awake to answer that, as I’m sure she’s wondering the same thing, but I will tell you, it wasn’t my choice. She was… kept from me and raised by her father. She’s only recently been released into my custody.”
“What happened to her parents?” He questions, his kinder side breaking through now that it appears Mildred isn’t the root of Callie’s ignorance.
Wrinkles fan out from her pursed lips while she debates what to tell us. “Her mother… passed when she was a toddler. I doubt she even remembers her. And her father,” she pauses, the tick in her jaw telling me that I better never meet this man-- for his sake, “is in prison.” She touches her throat. “Please, Callie’s past is hers to tell, so I ask that you wait for her to elaborate further.”
Kaleb nods in understanding and goes back to his vigil. With gentle fingers, he brushes hair from Callie’s face.
We all continue to watch for any signs that Felix is succeeding, but it’s like living the shittiest version of Sleeping Beauty. Instead of waiting for some asshole prince to kiss her, we have to hope a ghost can lead her back without getting lost himself.
Sweat is slowly trickling down my back from all the excess body heat trapped around me, and my muscles are starting to ache from lack of movement. I flex a bit to try and get some of the blood back into my fingertips. My wolf’s whines have grown to wailing howls as we wait, the need to shift pressing harder against my skin, but still I fight him, refusing to let Callie go until she wakes up.
Whispering for her return, stroking her hair, hands, feet, face--- anything we can think of for her to feel that we’re out here-- we wait.
~*~
Exactly thirty four minutes after he left, Felix reappears, haunted and shaking. Before we can ask what happened, Callie takes a gasping breath and opens her eyes. They’re beautiful.
She looks around, taking in all of us gathered close around her, and groans, a heavy blush spreading across her now golden cheeks.
Weak with relief, a smile pulls at my lips.
“Hi,” she croaks. Her fingers shift to fidget, but one’s currently pinned against me and the other is lost in Donovan’s massive paw. “So, uh… this is awkward. I’m guessing you probably have some questions.”
Nolan chokes out a laugh. “Callie love, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or strangle you at the moment.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Well, I’d hold off on either until you hear what I have to tell you.”
“I’m so happy to see you’re alright, my darling,” Mildred beams, tears glittering in her eyes. She stands from the armchair she’s kept watch from, but is unable to get to Callie since we’ve surrounded her. She offers a gentle smile and a slightly amused expression at the rest of us. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please,” Callie answers, and Mildred scuffles away to the kitchen.
“Out with it,” Donovan demands, his aqua eyes focused on Callie’s clear water grey ones.
“Can I sit up first?” She huffs, squirming in my arms. “I’m melting here.”
With the major crisis passed, my human side is now very aware of the beautiful girl on my lap. I try to help unravel her from under the blanket-- her grinding into my groin helping neither of us-- but with the others so close, it’s more of an awkward flail of limbs, and of course, none of the assholes move.
She tries to push her hair out of her eyes, only to smack Kaleb in the shoulder, and when she tries to get her feet to the floor, I have to hold on tight to keep her from toppling onto the floor and into Donovan. Finally, she manages to get into a sitting up position on my lap and attempts to remove her leather jacket.
“Hold still,” I mutter, as I help slide the jacket off her shoulders so she doesn’t smack anyone again, only to find her golden skin covered in black lace. Right, the shirt.
Donovan and Nolan get the same stupid expressions that Kaleb, Felix and I were sharing earlier. Not a cocky smirk in sight, and I’m not the only one shifting awkwardly in appreciation.
She sighs heavily, splitting her hair over her shoulders and breaking their trance. When she starts twisting her fingers together, I take one of her hands and lace it with mine. She looks up into my eyes, even sitting on my lap she only comes up to my chin, and I hold her stare, letting her shadows dance with mine. You are not alone.
She nods slightly, as if she hears my thoughts through my eyes, and releases a slow careful breath. Mildred returns with a mug, peppermint scented steam wafting in lazy curls, and holds it out so Callie can take the handle with her free hand, then sits back down in her chair.
Callie takes a small sip, then lets the mug rest against her thigh. Quietly, she starts, “First, I can only tell you so much, there’s…” she falters and shivers. Nolan throws the afghan around her shoulders, and she gives him a weak smile. “A lot has happened to me, and I can’t… I’m not ready to talk about all of it.”
Donovan shakes his head like he’s about to argue, when I give him a hard glare. He purses his lips and narrows his eyes but keeps his mouth shut.
“Just tell us what you can,” Kaleb responds, ignoring both of us.
She squeezes my hand hard, and I return it with an answering pressure.
“My father abused me,” she blurts, then stiffens as if she’s terrified of the words coming from her mouth, and they’re like shards of glass to an already bleeding heart. My wolf howls with her pain, while the rest of the room sits in silence. “For years… he hurt me physically and got away with it. No one knew. No one would believe me, because… well, it’s easier if I show you.” She sniffs and takes her hand from mine, then looks at Donovan. “You’re going to want to move.”
Donovan, confused, slides away until his back hits the other side of the couch.
She leans down and places her mug of tea on the floor next to her feet, then pulls back her long lace sleeves. I expect to see marks of some kind, something that shows the abuse she suffered but in ways easy to explain, but her arms are a smooth tan like the rest of her.
We look at each other, unsure what she wants us to see.
With a frightening calm, Callie picks her tea back up and leans forward into the empty space in front of her. Then, without warning, she holds out her free arm and pours her boiling hot tea over it.
“Shit, shit, shit… that still hurts,” she hisses through gritted teeth, shaking her arm.
“The fuck, Callie?” Donovan roars, standing and ripping the empty mug from her hand, and Nolan quickly reaches for the injured arm.
Kaleb is immediately on his feet, heading towards the kitchen, I’m assuming for ice, and I’m about to pick her up and follow, when Nolan shouts, “Holy shit! Guys, look at this.”
With a silence made of horror and awe, we watch the angry blistered skin shift to a vibrant red-- the white bumps receding back into her flesh-- before slowly returning to the same golden color as before.
Nolan’s fingers hover over the freshly mended skin, but only after Callie’s nod of encouragement does he hesitantly touch her arm. “It doesn’t feel any different than the rest of you,” he whispers, exploring past what was damaged.
If we hadn’t seen it with our own eyes, there would be no way of knowing she just had second degree burns.
I knew we were similar, but it’s like looking in a mirror, her scars fading away like mine do with every shift. I pull her against me, and she comes easily, resting her head against my shoulder.
“This is nothing,” she grunts, tears escaping down her cheeks and dripping into my flannel shirt. She wipes them away angrily. “No matter what he did, I kept healing, and he would yell at me to save myself… but I didn’t know how.”
I feel nauseous and furious over what she’s suffered. At least I know I’m just supposed to take it, but for that sick son of a bitch to make her feel like her abuse was somehow her fault-- that she should’ve been able to stop a full grown man from hurting her-- forget hoping he doesn’t come across me. He better hope I can’t hunt him down.
“Oh, my darling,” Mildred cries, her brown eyes filled with tears, “there was nothing you could’ve done.” Her fingers curl like she wants to strangle someone with her bare hands. “Prison is too good for that bastard!”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Callie laughs wetly, before continuing. “There are certain things that can trigger memories, though it’s never been like this before. Um, open flames,” she offers a weak smile for understating the obvious, “large kitchen knives, baseball bats, and--” This time she looks embarrassed when she stops. “Stairs. I have a real hard time with stairs, but I’m working on that one.”
“I forgot the stairs,” Felix mutters so quietly I’m the only one to hear him.
Until now, I was so focused on Callie, I forgot he was in the room. He’s tucked away in the corner and looks like he’s watching without seeing, which makes me nervous. What did he see inside Callie’s mind? How bad was it?
“My god, Callie,” Nolan groans, rubbing at his face and drawing my attention, “why didn’t you tell me? There’s an elevator at the house we could’ve taken instead of all those flights of stairs.”
She shrugs meekly. “I didn’t want any of you to know. I don’t…” she grunts with frustration. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to freak out at stairs or fire, or worry that I can’t go to Kaleb’s baseball games in the Spring because just looking at the bats…”
“Callie,” Kaleb interrupts gently, sorrow in his voice, “those games don’t matter. I wouldn’t expect you to…”
“That’s not the point,” she fires back with frustration. “The point is that I want to get better. I don’t want what happened to me to keep me from living my life. I finally…” Tears drip down her face, and she wipes at them harshly. “I’m finally away from him and have a chance to really live.”
Kaleb sits back down next to us, reaches up and brushes away one of her tears. “That doesn’t mean you have to do it alone, and these things take time. Let us help you.”
She bites down on her lip hard and nods. “I’ll try. I’ve never had,” her voice hitches, “anyone… before. I’ve been… so… alone.” She grits her teeth and turns her head into my shoulder. Muffled against my shirt, she complains, “Damn it. I hate crying.”
“We’re not big fans either,” Donovan grumbles, as unsure as the rest of us on how to make things better, but it gets a laugh out of Callie.
She sits back up, takes a deep shuddering breath, and I can almost see her pushing down her pain and reshoring the steel in her spine. I’m in awe of her strength and furious about the conditions under which she forged it.
“So, that’s it. That’s the big secret. The, uh, healing thing didn’t start until a few years ago, but until recently, that’s all the witchy I got.” She laughs ruefully. “It was like the bastard literally beat the power out of me.”
“That’s exactly what he did,” Mildred whispers, silent tears dripping down her pale cheeks.
“I don’t understand,” Kaleb interjects. “I know some witches can heal wounds, but I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
“Callie is very special,” she replies with a twist of her lips. “You’ll find there are a lot of things she’s capable of that you’ve never heard of before.” She stands and holds out her hand to Callie. “Come, darling. It’s time you learned the truth about a great many things.”
We all tense, knowing this is it. This is the beginning where we lose her to the business of witches, and even though she’s agreed to accept our help, there will be things she can’t tell us. Parts of her world we’ll be locked away from. Except, I should know better. Callie is no normal witch.
To our surprise, Callie stubbornly shakes her head. “No, anything you say to me, you can say to them. I want them to know.”
Mildred’s lips press together into a white line, while we trade looks with each other. She sits back down and folds her hands in her lap.
Nolan is the only one not to relax after Callie’s demand, but he doesn’t leave and I’m proud of him for it. I know that everything to do with witches shakes him, so for him to stay… Hopefully what Mildred tells us will help set his mind at ease. I know Callie is different, but only her aunt can explain how.
“Very well,” Mildred opens, clearly unhappy, but bending to her niece’s will anyway. “I guess the best place to start is the beginning. Remember how I told you that you were the heiress to two very old, very prestigious families.”
Callie nods and clears her throat. “Yeah, uh, Mom and you are Volkov’s, and my father comes from the Lyncas family even though that’s not his last name.”
“You’re an heiress? Then you’re definitely taking me with you when you buy your first car,” Nolan teases. It comes out flat, but he’s trying.
“Oh no,” she laughs. “No death traps for me even if I do have magical healing powers.”
Callie takes his hand, as if she can sense how hard this is for him, and he runs his thumb along her knuckles. I shake my head and wrap my arms around her waist. She’s about to learn shit that is going to change everything she knows about herself, and yet she still has room to think about the rest of us.
Mildred gives Nolan a pointed be quiet look, before continuing. “Yes, well, what I didn’t have a chance to explain is how they’re prestigious. The Volkov’s and the Lyncas’ are two of the original seven bloodlines that birthed the race of witches. All the strongest and most influential of our people can trace their lineage back to the original seven.”
“So that’s why the women keep their maiden name?” Callie asks, her head pitched to the side in confusion. “Because being one of these original bloodlines is a big deal.”
Kaleb leans forward, his forearms on his knees, when he sees Mildred hesitate. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s clearly reading something in her body language.
She looks at all of us, her face drawn. “That’s what the council wants us to think,” she proclaims quietly. “I don’t know how much you boys understand about the hierarchy of the witches, but the council is made up of the strongest among us-- the most powerful in both magic and cunning, and it’s through them that our world is shaped. It’s rare that any council member isn’t in some way a direct descendant of one of the seven, and since the tradition has always been this way, no one questioned why female witches of the seven kept their name even after marriage.”
“But that’s not why,” Kaleb leads, his voice the soothing tone he uses with the damaged.
She shakes her head and her red rimmed eyes seek out Callie’s, who stills under the weight of her aunt’s gaze. “Your mother… the council ruled it a suicide, but I knew better. She loved you so much. She would never have willfully abandoned you. I told the council this, but they ignored me-- said I was just distraught and wanting to find reason where there was none, and your father was out of his mind with grief and tried to…” She trails off, taking in her trembling niece.
“Don’t stop,” Callie demands. Her voice sounds as fragile as fine crystal.
Kaleb takes Callie’s other hand, and Donovan slides back over to sit next to her feet, indifferent to the wet tea stain on the rug.
Felix seems to come back to us, carefully walking past to sit on the floor next to Donovan. When this is all over, one of us is going to have to talk to him about what he saw. The last time he was even close to like this it was right after he learned his family died along with him.
Mildred reaches for her tea and grimaces when she takes a sip, the tea likely stronger and bitterer now that it’s cold. “This part is complicated, but I’ll do my best to explain.” She sighs and mutters to herself, “Where to begin?”
Putting her cup back down, she straightens and folds her hands back in her lap. “After your mother’s death, I started doing more research and found Helina was one of many unexplained deaths related to female witches that came from the original seven. I also found that unlike Helina, many for some reason or another had their powers bound as children.”
“And that’s what happened to Callie?” Kaleb asks, concern and academic fascination coming out in equal parts. “Her powers were bound?”
“Why?” Donovan demands, clearly less interested in the how. “What reason could the bastards come up with to bind the powers of a child? And then to just throw her out…”
“I’m getting to that,” Mildred interrupts, annoyance cutting into her earlier sorrow. Honestly, I prefer her this way. Something about a witch as powerful as Callie’s aunt looking helpless doesn’t sit right. “Now, where was I?”
“Unexplained deaths,” Nolan provides, giving Callie’s hand a tight squeeze. It worries me that she has a similar look to the time she first learned she was a witch.
“Right, point is, there were a lot of dodgy instances that didn’t add up when looked at too closely,” Mildred huffs, getting back to her story. “So I looked further, started researching more about the original seven and what made them so special. I found that the original seven weren’t the original bloodlines that all witches came from; they’re the original bloodlines of a special type of witch… a very powerful witch that has access to magics none of the rest of us could hope to duplicate.”
None of us dare to interrupt her when she pauses. It feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, and we’re all jumping off together.
“According to various books and journals I’ve uncovered within the Volkov family seat in Russia, I believe Callie is what’s loosely translated as a Spirit Witch.” Mildred starts to speak faster, a frenzy filling her eyes. “It’s a line of witches that not only has control of all the elements, but the essence of magic itself… of life itself. They were the conduits through which mother earth watched over us all. They were meant to be the ones that ruled over the mortal realm and with their unfathomable power, they could force balance when the need arose. The rest of witchkind were meant to be their eyes and their will, because though there were witches that had some spirit magic, only seven-- one of each bloodline-- were powerful enough to serve as ruler for their respective corners of the world.”
“Force balance,” Nolan breathes so quietly I know I’m the only one to hear.
My wolf is annoyingly calm, which is unfair since I feel like the ground is falling out from under me, and Callie is trembling in my arms. Now I know why she’s different, but I still don’t understand why my wolf cares. Am I simply drawn to her power? Does he know that she’s precious and that’s why we must protect her?
“Callie,” I murmur in her ear.
“Yeah?” she whispers back, her voice small.
“That’s probably why you smell different,” I offer, remembering when she asked Monday at lunch.
She turns her head to look up at me and squints. “Because I’m some type of ancient uber powerful witch that’s supposed to rule over everyone, but there’s a conspiracy perpetuated by the council to ensure nobody knows about them?” She drawls.
“Yep,” I reply, biting back a smile.
“Thanks for clearing that up,” she groans, but there’s humor in her voice.
Smirking, I nod, and she rolls her eyes.
The rest of the guys release a tense laugh, and Mildred looks confused, but doesn’t ask for an explanation.
Kaleb shakes his head and attempts to draw us back on topic. “What happened to the spirit witches?”
Mildred blinks for a moment then clears her throat. “Um, yes, well, what happens to all with absolute power, I suppose.”
“The spirit witches became corrupt?” Donovan questions. He lays a hand on Callie’s foot, as if to assure her he won’t let something like that happen to her.
“Not the spirit witches themselves,” Mildred reassures, “but those that served beneath them. The world is a very big place, so these seven rulers relied heavily on their own councils of witches to help oversee, as well as be the voice for, their people. As I understand it, the councils were gifted great amounts of magic for their service, but it wasn’t enough. They wanted to rule, and used their influence over the people to get it. Fear is a powerful thing, and they wielded it well, convincing the people that it was only a matter of time before their benevolent rulers became tyrants. They deemed it dangerous and unnatural for one witch to hold so much power.”
“And everyone just rolled over and let it happen?” Donovan scoffed. “If they were so powerful, how were they taken out?”
Mildred’s gaze focuses on me when she murmurs, “They were betrayed.”
My wolf begins to growl over the insult, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from snarling. Callie grunts when I squeeze her tighter to my chest. She pulls her hand from Kaleb to rest it on my forearm, and I breathe her in.
“I wouldn’t,” is all I can manage to grind out.
Kaleb looks at me carefully, and I worry he’s catching on how much Callie means to me. I don’t understand it, so the last thing I need is Kaleb poking his nose into it.
“No, but your ancestors did,” Mildred counters gently. “During the time of the spirit witches, shifters acted as their guardians and most trusted friends. Volkov literally means wolf in Russian.”
I feel like I’ve taken a blow to the head. My mother was a human, Puerto Rican woman and the Alpha is as brown as I am. There’s no way I’m Russian… there’s no way I could descend from these shifters, but my wolf somehow knows differently.
I look at Callie, taking in her loosely curled blonde hair, her warm skin and how small she feels in my arms. In my mind’s eye, I conjure the delicate features of her face and the endless depths of her grey eyes. Is this why I feel this way? Because a long time ago my ancestors protected hers?
“This history lesson is all well and good,” Callie pipes up. “And later, I’m sure I’m going to want to know more, but what makes you think I’m one of these spirit witches?”
“Because magic wants to survive,” she replies bluntly.
“Cryptic, witches are cryptic,” Felix mutters, once again reminding me he’s in the damn room. I can see him in the corner of my eye, but he’s so unusually quiet that I keep forgetting he’s there.
Nolan and Donovan both snort.
“Yeah, you’re going to have to be a lot more specific,” Callie sighs, reaching up from my arm to rub at her face. She leans back into my shoulder, her body beginning to droop with fatigue. I tuck her head under my chin and adjust my arms so that she sits more securely against me.
Mildred gazes at Callie with sad eyes. “This is another complicated story that involves your mother, your father and what he did to you.”
“Is that how you knew what he did? Or that he did something?” She asks carefully. “Because you know I’m a spirit witch?”
“Partially,” Callie’s aunt replies, folding her arms. “I can feel the excess magic that’s pouring out of you. The only way that’s possible is if there’s a crack in the spell that’s binding your magic, and well, your magic has to be strong enough to create such a crack in the first place.” Her fingers tap against her bicep. “Like I said, magic wants to survive and in the case of a life threatening situation, if the witch is strong enough, their magic has the possibility of breaking a binding spell to save their lives.” She pinches her lips. “When I saw how you reacted to your father’s arrest, I knew it wasn’t an accident that cracked the spell.”
“That’s what he meant,” Callie whispers, her knuckles going white in Nolan’s hand. His face is drawn as he looks over at her. “He expected me to use my magic to stop him.”
“Yes, darling,” Mildred answers softly, sadness and guilt weighing down her words. “What he didn’t understand, or chose to ignore, was that your magic was already doing what it could to protect you. It made sure no matter what he did, you’d survive.”
“So, he knew what I was? He knew about spirit witches?” she retorts, heat building in her husky voice.
“I believe so, yes. Which is why I know the council is behind what keeps happening to the spirit witches.” Mildred releases a pent up breath. “Before your father was cast out, he was a leading member of the council. I think he knew that your mother was a spirit witch and helped her hide it.” A tear falls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. “I don’t know why she didn’t tell me. Maybe the bastard convinced her it was too dangerous to tell anyone. Lina would do anything to protect the people she loved.”
“Like kill herself to hide that her daughter is a spirit witch?” Kaleb interjects with kindness.
Mildred shakes her head violently. “No. No, she wouldn’t do that. Hide, yes. Kill herself… especially without any explanation? No. Absolutely not.”
Donovan leans back against the couch and folds his arms, his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. “None of this explains why you think Callie is a spirit witch,” he grunts, his patience, what there is of it, clearly wearing thin. “She’s a powerful witch, but with her magic bound, how can you tell she’s a spirit witch?”
“Ghosts,” she answers with a smug arch of her brow. “Besides the unfathomable amount of power spirit witches have, they can see and interact with the dead.”
We all look down at Felix, and he shifts uncomfortably under the attention. “Oh come on,” he exclaims, rolling his eyes. “You can’t be too surprised. They’re called spirit witches.” He does a quick sweep of his hand over his body, then points to his chest. “Spirit. It’s right there in the title.”
Callie laughs. It’s loud and tinged with hysteria, but it beats crying.
“I presume your friend has said something humorous that highlights my point?” Mildred comments.
Kaleb blinks at her for a moment, before murmuring, “Yes. He pointed out that being called a spirit witch might imply something to do with spirits.”
“Yes,” Mildred chuckles. “Very astute.”
“Okay, time for bullet points,” Callie demands once she’s gotten ahold of herself. “I’m tired and this is all starting to make my brain hurt. What you’re telling me is I’m some type of super witch that died out a long time ago because power, bullshit, etcetera. Being able to see Felix, the whole healing thing,” she tilts her head back to look up at me, “and that I apparently smell different from other witches, supports the spirit witch theory. My magic was bound because reasons, my father was cast out from the council because reasons, and he wanted to unbind my magic because reasons, so he tortured me hoping my magic would eventually stop him. Do I have it right?”
“And Connor is the descendant of the wolves that apparently screwed your family over,” Felix adds unhelpfully.
A low growl rumbles in my chest.
“Hey, don’t blame me,” Felix quips. “It’s your ancestors’ fault.”
“And I, of all people, won’t be judging others based on blood relations,” Callie counters, eyeballing Felix.
He looks properly chastised, and my wolf preens over her defense. I’m stuck somewhere between a smirk and an eye roll. My wolf is usually the least trusting, snarling at everyone to keep us safe, but right now, he’s ready to roll over and show her our belly. He’s kept me safe and alive this long, but damn-- magic makes everything weird.
Callie looks back at her aunt. “Time to fill in the blanks. My magic was bound, why?”
“The official reason is your father was severed from his magic and sentenced to live as a human, and since he was your only living parent, you were cast out with him,” she answers plainly. “Living outside the monitoring of the witch community, the council decided it unwise for you to have access to your magic when your father was severed from his. On your eighteenth birthday, the binding spell was to slowly fade, and myself or one of your other witch family members was to retrieve you.”
“I have other family…” Callie trails off then shakes her head. “Not important. Okay, why was the bastard cast out if he was this really important member of the council?”
Mildred looks down at her hands and sniffs before looking back up at Callie. “He used forbidden magics to try and bring your mother back from the dead. Witches are meant to keep balance, and death is part of life. For attempting to break such a law, there’s little forgiveness. The only reason your father was cast out versus sentenced to death himself was his position. Leniency was given because he was defended as a man lost to grief.”
“That son of a bitch!” Callie screams and sits forward, startling us all and making my ears ring. Her nails dig into my forearm, her fingers turning to talons as they grip my arm. “That’s what that kidnapping was about wasn’t it? He was trying again. All the shit he did to me. He needed me to bring her back.”
“Kidnapping?” Kaleb echoes, his voice calm in the growing storm.
Her eyes cut to him, and her breaths are angry, labored puffs. Gone is the girl who appeared weak and small in my arms, and in her place is one who makes it very easy to believe she’s a terrifyingly powerful witch. Wolf seems fine with the transition, the ass.
Donovan also seems more interested in whose ass needs to be kicked and less worried about calming our angry spirit witch, who has already caused an unintentional thunderstorm, exploding trees, and a raging bonfire. Nolan and I trade wide eyed stares, because what the hell are we going to do? Felix’s expression is hard to read, and it makes me want to know what the hell he saw.
“That fucking bastard who tortured me for years!” she screeches. “You know why he’s in prison?”
“No,” Kaleb answers gently, holding her gaze. Brave. “Why is he in prison?”
“Not for the shit he did to me,” she hisses, her teeth grinding. “Oh no, he’s currently locked up for the next five years in an Arizona state prison, because he was caught trying to abduct a woman who looked a hell of a lot like my mother.”
Kaleb swallows heavily and glances at Mildred. “That’s possible? Placing a spirit into another’s body?”
“Yeah, it’s called possession,” Donovan sneers. “Demons do it all the time.”
“Not without slowly killing the host,” Kaleb counters.
While they argue the finer points of possession, Nolan and I try to calm the ball of rage on my lap. He runs his hand down her arm and his thumb along her knuckles, while I murmur inconsequentially in Spanish about how she’s safe and he can’t hurt her now. I know she doesn’t understand a word I’m saying, but our combined efforts seem to calm her down some.
“I hate him,” she seethes, flopping back against my shoulder. “No. Hate isn’t a strong enough word.”
I ache for her, knowing the strength of that kind of hate-- that kind of rage that festers inside. The only solace I can think of is that he will never harm her again, and justice has a way of working out, particularly when I plan to help it along. Somehow.
Mildred watches Callie with a heartbroken gaze, before shifting her focus back to Kaleb. “To answer your question, yes, it’s possible to transfer a soul into another unoccupied body and have the body and soul survive… especially with the power of a spirit witch.”
“So he was going to kill her first then have me somehow shove my mother’s spirit into the corpse?” Callie retorts with disgust.
“Yes,” she answers quietly. “I believe that was his intent.”
Kaleb glances at Felix, while Donovan scowls and mutters, “Still sounds like possession to me.”
“Well, whatever he intended to do is irrelevant, because he didn’t nor will he succeed,” Nolan comments, squaring his shoulders and casting a determined stare. I worry this conversation is bringing up thoughts of his older sister. “Do I wish the bastard was rotting because what he did to Callie? Of course. But what’s important is that he’s gone and can’t hurt her anymore.” He looks into Callie’s eyes with conviction. “And we’ll help you through this. What he did won’t control you forever.”
She nods and bites her lip. “You’re right, and thank you.” She looks around the room. “All of you, for everything.”
“No reason to thank us,” Kaleb replies.
Donovan quickly adds, “Yeah, you’re one of us. Your shit is our shit. Get used to it.”
“Eloquent as ever,” Nolan chuckles, then smiles at Callie. “I did warn you that first day we planned to adopt you.”
“I already haunt your house, might as well take them on too,” Felix grins.
I rock her side to side. “You’re safe. We’ll protect you.”
She gives me an amused squint. “Aren’t I supposed to be some badass spirit witch? Shouldn’t that mean I can protect myself?”
“Not until you get that binding spell off,” Donovan counters, then looks to Mildred. “That’s the plan, right? Remove the spell.”
“Yes, that’s the plan,” she affirms with a sharp nod of her head. “For one thing, running around with a cracked binding spell can be quite dangerous.”
Nolan chortles sarcastically, “Yeah, we noticed.”
Callie winces. “Did I hurt anyone?”
I shake my head, and she sighs with relief.
“Nope, just lit some blankets-- and possibly clothes--on fire, but I’m sure they’re fine,” Felix chimes in.
I give him a deadpan, Why would you say that? glare, while Callie groans.
When Mildred looks at Kaleb with a raised brow, he shares, “Felix was offering details about what happened with the bonfire earlier. No one was hurt-- we’re pretty sure.”
More groaning from Callie. “Getting this binding spell removed will keep me from casting these accidental explosions of magic, right?”
“It will allow you to learn to control your magic,” Mildred answers.
“Did that sound like a non-answer to anyone else?” Felix questions.
No one comments, before Mildred continues, “Furthermore, it’s important that Callie gain enough time to learn how to use and control her magic before the council sends someone to retrieve her. As far as they know, Callie still believes she’s human and still has her magic bound.”
“Don’t they know I’m with you now?” Callie asks.
She shakes her head. “No. They’ve no idea about your father’s arrest or that you’re now in my custody. The council currently thinks I’m doing research in remote mixed supernatural communities to see how well they function and if some of the ways they retain peace can be implemented on a larger scale.”
“The coven currently follows the philosophy of ignore it until it goes away. I wouldn’t recommend that approach,” Donovan grumbles.
“Yes, well, not actually why I’m here,” Mildred replies. She looks at Callie. “I was searching for you when I was alerted to your father’s arrest, and everything I’ve done thus far… it’s been to protect you. You understand that, right?”
“Yeah,” Callie assures. “I get that.” She yawns and scrubs at her face. “I think this is all I can handle tonight. Is it okay if we talk more about this tomorrow?”
“Of course, darling,” Mildred answers.
My wolf is back on high alert, not liking the idea of leaving Callie alone after all that’s happened tonight, and I wonder how she’d feel if I watched over her home through the night as a wolf. Is it more weird or less if I’m shifted?
As if Nolan can read my mind, he suggests, “Is it alright if we stay the night? We can sleep here in the living room. With everything that’s happened tonight, I just think we… I know that I… want to be close.” He trails off, his gaze flitting back and forth between Callie and Mildred.
“If that’s something Callie wants, I’m okay with you staying,” Mildred answers.
Callie fidgets under all of our gazes, and I’m worried she’ll say no. “I, uh,” she stutters, then clears her throat. “It’s fine if you stay. I just…” She chews on her lip. “You should know, that I have nightmares sometimes, so umm, try not to freak out?”
Kaleb gives her a tender smile, the picture of understanding. “Nightmares are a natural response to the things you’ve experienced, and perhaps having us here might help if you wake from them. No matter the hour, we’ll act as reassurance that you are safe and no longer alone.”
She swallows heavily. “Okay.”
Mildred stands. “I’ll go track down some bedding for everyone.”
“I’ll help,” Kaleb offers, following her up the stairs.
Donovan gives Nolan a pointed look, before getting up and heading towards the kitchen. Nolan looks at all of us and shrugs before following him.
Callie watches them go for a moment, before sighing, “I’m tired and wired at the same time. My body feels exhausted, but I have no idea how to shut off my brain.”
“We could watch something,” Felix suggests, with a tightness around his eyes. “Still have your superhero movie repertoire to expand, or you know, TV is fine too.”
“Sure. Why not?” she replies, getting up to retrieve the remote from the coffee table on the other side of the room.
My hands curl into fists to hide their shaking. With everything that’s happened tonight, my wolf needs out. Neither one of us is good with emotional rollercoasters, and a good sniff around could set us both at ease. Problem is, I don’t know how Callie will react to my wolf.
I can hear Donovan in the kitchen with Nolan, and he’s asking if Nolan got a chance to feed at the party.
“No, but I’m fine,” Nolan murmurs back, his agitation highlighting that he’s not.
“Come on,” Donovan sighs. “You can feed from me.”
“I told you I’m fine,” he growls back.
“You’re not fine. You’re pale as fuck and having junkie grade mood swings,” Donovan grunts.
Nolan snorts. “Accusing me of mood swings is rich coming from you.”
“Let’s add, also acting like a dick,” he counters, then his voice drops low, “You agreed, no repeats of this summer…”
“I don’t remember it as all bad,” Nolan challenges.
Donovan doesn’t take the bait and keeps talking, “Hungry vampires aren’t what we need right now. Callie’s okay for the moment, so now we need to take care of you. You’re not taking, I’m offering, alright?”
“Yeah okay… thanks,” he mumbles back.
“No problem,” he replies as they head for the front door. “I don’t know why you have to be an ass about it.”
“Because nephilim are friends not food?” Nolan jokes.
“I swear to fucking god, if you say that one more time…” Donovan’s voice trails off when the door slaps closed behind them.
Callie looks up at the door, confused.
“Donovan and Nolan had something to take care of,” I explain, hoping she won’t ask for more details. “They’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” she answers, then with eyes that see too much, she focus on me. “You all right?”
I look past her face and rub at the back of my neck. Now or never. “Okay if I shift?”
“Shift?” She frowns at me for a moment, before the pieces snap together. “Right. Wolf shifter. Yeah sure, uh, shift away.”
Standing up, I tower over her, the top of her head barely reaching the middle of my chest. Again, I’m struck by how small she is. It’s too easy to miss the fierce and powerful person inside, though anyone that judges her by the outside is in for one hell of an awakening-- or will be once that binding spell is removed. Even knowing this, my shoulders tense up thinking of her out of my sight. Tomorrow, I’ll be better, but tonight-- and the living room isn’t the best place for me to shift to wolf.
I fidget with indecision. “Come with me?” I ask after a long moment with a subtle gesture towards the front door.
Her brows furrow but she nods and follows without comment.
There’s no sign of Nolan or Donovan once we’re outside, and I don’t look for them, knowing they’ll return when they’re done.
Motioning for Callie to stay on the porch where she’s easily visible in the light, I walk down the front steps. I want to give her plenty of space when I shift, so that I can slowly approach in my wolf form and hopefully not scare her.
I start taking off my coat and unbuttoning my flannel shirt as I approach my car, planning to keep my clothes in the Tahoe for when I need them. The air is a welcome cold against my heated skin, shifters running hot by nature. I’d been sweltering trapped between all the guys.
Reaching into my front pocket, I groan remembering Kaleb has my keys and turn to go back, when I catch Callie watching me. Her eyes trace along my bare chest, my arms, and then go wide when she reaches my face. A deep blush spreads across her cheeks, and she immediately stares at her feet.
A smile tugs at my lips, and my wolf preens under the attention. Being a shifter, nudity isn’t really a big deal since it’s either take the clothes off, or ruin them in the shift-- or possibly get trapped in them. As hilarious as it is to watch a wolf trying to scramble out of a pair of half destroyed jeans, it’s not something I want to experience if I don’t have to.
To give her a chance to compose herself, I try the door of the car and find it unlocked. Not surprising considering the rush we were in to get Callie to her aunt. I dump my jacket and shirt onto the driver’s seat, tug off my boots and socks, and make sure I’m good and hidden behind the car door before removing my pants.
Finally, I let the shift take me, and it feels like relaxing muscles that have been tight for hours. Normally, I don’t fight this hard against my wolf, one major reason is because it hurts… a lot, but rarely are we this at odds over what’s best to do and what form to do it in.
I shake out my fur and stretch, enjoying the gentle pull of newly changed muscles. The world is simpler within my wolf, instinct and desires not hindered by overthinking. My senses are sharper as well, Callie’s pomegranate and white orchid scent drifting along the air, as strong as if I was standing next to her. My nose twitches with the smell of her leaking magic, and I sneeze-- my wolf’s not as used to the scent of magic as my human form.
Stalking out from behind the car door, I shove my shoulder into it and it closes. I sit down on my haunches and pitch my head to the side, listening to my surroundings. Donovan and Nolan didn’t go too far. I can hear them in Nolan’s car, though it’s surprising that Nolan would risk blood on the upholstery. Other than them, there’s no other out of the ordinary sounds or scents.
Callie is still looking at her feet when I focus on the porch, and I release a quick yip to gain her attention. Her head snaps up and her eyes turn owlish, but I can’t tell if it’s surprise or fear. I don’t smell fear.
Carefully, I trot over, trying to look as least threatening as a wolf the size of a small pony can. When I reach the base of the steps, I sit back down on my haunches and wait, my head quirked to the side and curious what she’ll do. No screaming. Good sign.
“Wow,” she breathes, frozen and blinking at me. “You’re huge.”
I release a breathy cough.
“Are you laughing at me?” She shakes her head, coming out of her stupor. “Of course, you’re laughing at me. Have you seen you? You’re kind of surprising the first time… I mean, Kaleb said your wolf form was big, but damn. Anyone that mistakes you for a normal wolf is a moron.”
I take the banter as a good sign, and slowly make my way up the stairs. She moves to the side when I reach the top of the stairs, and I give her another good sniff just to be sure she’s okay. Pomegranate, white orchid, magic that smells like storms-- no fear, though her heart rate is slightly higher than normal.
To encourage her, I duck down and bump her hand with the top of my head, my tail subtly wagging.
“Is this why you don’t like talking? You’re too used to not talking as a wolf?” she asks, but does take the hint and pets the top of my head. Her fingers feel amazing through my fur, and she scratches a particularly good spot behind my ear.
“Huh. Your fur is softer than I expected,” she mutters, running her hand down my neck and between my shoulders, my head butted against her stomach.
My eyes drift closed, all of me more relaxed now that I’m close to her and can defend her properly. I rub my head and neck against her side, transferring some of my scent onto her.
She giggles. “Got it. ‘Wolf Connor’ is a cuddler.”
Not what I meant, but that’s fine too. I circle around Callie, brushing my body against her.
“Alright,” she laughs then yawns. “Let’s go back inside. I promise to pet you more in there. Can’t wait for my aunt to see you. Think she’ll tell you to stay off the furniture?”
I narrow my eyes at her, because I’m not a damn dog.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she chides, opening the door. “It was a joke. I promise to make sure she doesn’t kick you off the couch.”
I roll my eyes and follow her inside. I go where she goes, so good luck kicking me off anything.
Felix is sitting on the floor near the couch, and he grins at us. “Fluffy is a good look for you, Con.”
I yip at him, then sniff the air when I catch a scent that’s been gone for months. A very specific blend of sunshine and fresh laundry. What Felix smelled like when he was alive.
“Dude, could you not?” Felix grunts when I start sniffing the ground near him. “I get you can’t talk and I know I’m a ghost, but let’s pretend we still believe in personal space.”
I sneeze. His scent and the leaking magic mixing together making my nose itch.
“Not so funny when it’s you, is it?” Callie mocks. I’m guessing she’s referencing the sneeze when I first scented her.
She sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to her. “Okay, let’s leave Felix alone. Come here, and I’ll scratch behind your ears again. You seemed to like that.”
“Don’t think he’s the only one,” Felix mutters, but Callie doesn’t hear him.
I leap up onto the couch and settle myself over her lap, my head resting on my front paws.
Callie grunts under my initial weight, but doesn’t push me off or ask me to move. Instead, she does as promised and scratches behind my ears, down my neck, shoulders and back.
I release a relaxed sigh, content and enjoying the feel of her fingers buried in my fur. Some TV show I don’t recognize is on the television, but the other benefit of being in wolf form; I don’t have to pretend to pay attention. I can just lay here and no one thinks to check if the wolf is watching.
Mildred and Kaleb return downstairs, arms filled with blankets and pillows that they drop haphazardly on the floor. Callie’s aunt snorts when she sees me, but wisely doesn’t ask me to move, and Kaleb settles himself on the floor next to Felix.
Shortly thereafter, Donovan and Nolan return, both smelling of blood and the effects of vampire bites, but otherwise fine. Nolan once again has a more healthy cast to his skin and seems far more relaxed. They both chuckle when they see Callie half buried beneath me.
Nolan squeezes himself on the other side of Callie, his arm going around her, and her head rests against his shoulder. Both of their legs are up on the short part of the L on the couch.
Donovan eyeballs the small space I’m not occupying on the other side of the couch, and thinks better of it, grabbing some pillows and lying down long ways on the floor.
Normally, a wolf would feel anxious being away from the pack, but the pack hasn’t felt like home for years. Not since my mother left. No, my real pack-- my real family, is in this room, and with all my family safe and happy in one place, I let myself drift off into a light doze.