He rubs at his nose, then announces, “She’s a witch.”
Nolan looks surprised. A flash of wariness clouds his eyes but is quickly banished behind his playboy smile.
“I’m awhatnow?” I demand, pulling my sleeves over my hands and rapidly shifting my gaze to each of them.
“A witch,” Felix beams looking far less disturbed than some of the others.
“That’s impossible,” Kaleb proclaims. “Witches can’t see souls. Their magic is derived from the elements.”
Connor shrugs and looks back at me. “She can. Magic pouring out of her. Makes my nose itch.” He once again swipes at his nose to illustrate.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I interrupt, quickly tiring of being spoken around. “And who the hell are you guys? This guy sniffs me,” I gesture a thumb at Connor, “and I’m supposed to believe I’m a witch?”
Kaleb looks pensive, attempting to collect some logical reason or explanation I should believe a word they say. Connor looks unperturbed, like he doesn’t care whether I believe him or not. Donovan looks at his friends, rolls his eyes, then takes off his leather jacket.
“Hold this,” he commands Nolan, passing the jacket quickly to him.
Nolan squints, confused while he throws the jacket over his arm. Then he grins and silently chuckles when Donovan also takes off his black Henley.
If his plan was to distract me, it’s working remarkably well. To say he’s ripped is a shallow descriptor for the fine collection of well sculpted muscle and smooth skin before me. His chest is broad, his arms massive, and his abdomen cuts into eight clear quadrants that lead to the toned V of his Adonis belt; the part of a guy’s body that make all girls stupid. This one included, if I’m being honest.I’m managing to blink and not drool. I’m claiming this one as a win.
Kaleb’s gaze snaps to Donovan, and his eyes grow round enough to see the white surrounding his dark irises. “Donovan, what are you doing?”
“Giving her a reason to believe us,” he replies with what can only be described as an asshole smirk, then huge black feathered wings sprout from his back, towering far above his head and way below his knees. The long flight feathers shimmer with metallic color, like oil-dipped raven wings. They’re beautiful… and came out of freaking nowhere!
Holy crap! He has wings like Angel from the damn X-men… or like an actual angel.That small rational part of my brain is calmly pointing out I should probably be screaming, but instead, it all of a sudden becomes a lot harder to hear, like I stepped into a wind tunnel, and a light sheen of sweat coats the back of my neck.
“Donovan!” Kaleb barks, and as quickly as the wings appeared, they’re gone.
“Relax,” Donovan mutters from the other side of the wind tunnel. He pulls his shirt back over his head. “There’s nobody here.”
“Besides those people over there?” Kaleb grumbles, gesturing to the few kids on the lawn. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“They weren’t looking,” Donovan counters, reaching for his jacket and shrugging it back on.
“You have wings,” I stammer.
My vision grows dark at the edges, as I look down at my hands. My father cut off a finger once and kept me in the basement until it grew back. It took three days, and the growing back hurt a fuck-ton more than the cutting off. He had looked at me with a mixture of mounting frustration and rage. I thought he was upset that it took longer than a night’s rest.
Ghosts. Nephilim. Demons. Witches?
“Callie?” My name echoes against the basement walls.I’m sorry it didn’t grow faster. Please, let me out!
A low voice growls, “¿Qué pasa con ella?”
“I don’t know. Callie?” My name is closer. Sharper.But I’m alone here?
“Callie!”
With a start, I’m back in front of the school. Kaleb has one hand on my shoulder and was probably shaking me.Crap.Felix is inches away, hands hovering over my biceps. His eyes are round, fear and apology warring on his face.Why is he sorry?
“I’m fine,” I croak, blinking rapidly. Fine tremors quake through my body, and I rub my thumbs against the ribbed fabric of my sleeves.
Connor looks at me over Felix’s shoulder the way, I imagine, I looked at him earlier.That can’t be good.The rest share varying looks of concern.
“Callie…” Kaleb starts, my name an offer of patience and understanding. There’s a sadness in his eyes I don’t like.
I step away from him and square my shoulders.
