Connor
Callie is quiet, absorbing the information before she speaks, while the rest of the party continues around us. More people spill out from the back door and head past the pool to the yard behind us. They’re carrying blankets, beer, and logs of wood, bumping into each other and laughing as they walk. Not their first beers of the night.
I watch Callie carefully, unsure why I told her about the pack when she already sees too much. It’s obvious in the way she looks at me sometimes, then again, she sees it because she knows what to look for.
Gritting my teeth, I fight back my wolf who’s been rising closer to the surface since meeting Callie. Every time her eyes go blank. Every time she wears a smile, but her knuckles are white. Every shuddered breath she releases when getting anywhere near her past. My wolf wants out. The need to protect, to defend, desperate to break free.
I don’t know what it is about Callie that brings this out of me, only that it started the moment I caught her scent. She smells different than any other witch I’ve met, but what I haven’t told anyone and the real reason I had to get closer that day, was that difference drew my wolf. He knows whatever that difference is makes her important to us.
“I guess I can understand the desire for loyalty,” Callie offers with pursed lips and a pinched expression that shows that she doesn’t agree, “but why can’t you be loyal to your pack and have friends with those outside of the pack? One doesn’t exclude the other.”
Because the Alpha is a piece of shit coward who can’t inspire loyalty so rules with fear.
Kaleb gives a prettier answer. “It’s not just witches that keep to themselves. Most supernatural communities stick to their own kind and only interact with others if they have to. Nephilim are usually busy with their own duties, and vampires and shifters have a long standing dislike for each other.”
She looks at me, clearly confused because of how close Nolan and I are. What she hasn’t fully grasped is Nolan is a stubborn son of a bitch, and always has been, even when we were little kids. No one was going to tell him who he could or couldn’t be friends with.
“So all of you guys being friends is a…” she trails off, her eyes growing large and her skin becoming deathly pale. The scent of terror pours off of her.
“Callie?” Kaleb cries, gently shaking her shoulder and getting no response.
Felix panics, shouting her name, because it’s all he can do.
My wolf immediately climbs to the surface, ready to destroy what’s hurting her, but all I can see are the idiots from earlier surrounding a small fire. I don’t think she knows them, at least not enough for a response like this.
“Not the fire again,” she whispers so quietly, I’m the only one that hears. “Please…” Then she screams, a heart stopping cry of agonizing pain, and what was a small fire explodes into a bonfire, setting clothes and blankets ablaze.
Without thought, I scoop her up and head towards the front, fighting against the endless stream of people pouring out to see what happened, Kaleb and Felix right behind me. She’s rigid in my arms, her breaths coming out in choking little gasps that sound like drowning, and I don’t know what to do. I have to get her away. I have to protect her.
I run for the car, my long strides eating up the pavement, and pissed off at myself for parking so damn far away; Callie’s so small and light that her weight barely registers. When we get to the car, clutching her close with one arm, I dig in my pocket for my keys. Throwing them at Kaleb, I growl, “Drive.”
Kaleb nods, moving to open the back door for me.
“I’ll tell the others,” Felix announces, hands curled into tight fists. “Where are you going? The hospital?”
“No. Her place,” I bite out before Kaleb can answer, because I know something they don’t. Callie’s aunt is a witch, and she has the potential to be better than any doctor. “Hospital won’t help.”
Kaleb frowns at me, but doesn’t argue. Good. Waste of time.
Felix nods once then disappears.
I climb into the backseat with her still in my arms, unable to let her go. My gums ache with the need to shift-- to protect with teeth and claws, but I can’t hold her if I’m wolf. Instead, I curl around her, as if using my body to fend off the outside will help her fight the monsters inside. Breathing her in, I piece out the pomegranate and white orchids of her scent from the terror. More magic pours from her, like water bursting from a crack in a dam. I’ve grown used to the tingling sensation and it no longer itches, instead smelling like deep untouched forests and the air right before a storm.
The Tahoe shakes with the force of Kaleb slamming the driver’s side door. He has to slide the seat forward several inches before he can reach the pedals, since I’m a half a foot taller than his 5’11”. The engine roars to life under Kaleb’s desperation, and he peels away from the curb.
“How is she?” He asks, glancing into the rearview mirror.
I glare back at his reflection as an answer, because it’s obvious she isn’t any better, before pressing my lips to her forehead.
I beg in a soft whisper, “Regresa a mí. Estás a salvo, mi tesoro precioso. Estoy aquí y yo te protegeré. Por favor. Por favor, regresa a mí.”
My mother’s language flows from my mouth, her voice a gentle murmur inside my head. It’s been nearly ten years since she left, but it’s always her voice, her words, that come to me when I feel helpless.
Callie doesn’t hear me, lost in whatever nightmare she’s living. She barely blinks, her eyes darting to unseen things, and her breaths are so rapid and shallow, I’m afraid she’s going to hyperventilate until she passes out.
“Tu respiras,Callie.Necesito que respires,” I plead, then try again in English. “Breathe, Callie. I need you to breathe.”
“What?” Kaleb shouts, trying to look over his shoulder and not crash at the same time. “She’s stopped breathing? We’re taking her to the hospital.”
