With an annoyed squint, Kaleb counters, “Careful what you ask for. If I pull the stick out of my ass, it’s only so I can beat you with it.”
That pulls me out of my stupor, and I’m so surprised by the comment, I nearly shoot yogurt out of my nose. Nolan chokes on the gourmet concoction that he calls lunch, and Connor silently chuckles next to me.
Donovan gasps with a hand to his chest like he’s been shot. “Did you just threaten me with bodily harm?”
Kaleb scrubs at his face and says through his fingers, “Donovan, you could frustrate Mother Teresa into threatening you with bodily harm.”
He grins back like Kaleb gave him the world’s best compliment, which elicits yet another groan.
Nolan pats me on the back, while I’m trying to cough and choke yogurt out of my sinuses. “You alright, Callie love? You’re starting to resemble the color of your yogurt there.”
I cut him a glare with no heat, and wheeze, “Fine.”
He leans in closer to me, and says with some flourish, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand you over the Kaleb and Donovan show. You know, no matter how hard I try, I always get the time wrong and can never remember to record it.”
Donovan flashes his trademark one finger salute, and Nolan returns it with a smirk and a wink, earning an eye roll.
There’s a long pause while we eat our lunches, before Kaleb says softly, “I know why you’ve been researching so much lately. Don’t go looking for them. It’s been ten years, and they haven’t found you. They probably think you’re dead. Let them keep thinking that.”
Ice slides through my veins remembering how Donovan told me he doesn’t expect to live past twenty-five. It’s hard enough to think about him going off to kill faceless demons-- but him facing off with those clever enough to kill his whole family alone, no. It feels like suicide.
“You can’t be serious,” Nolan whispers, all the humor draining from his face.
Connor drops his food onto his lunch bag, and his hands slowly curl into fists on top of the table.
Donovan’s grin immediately drops and is replaced with gritted teeth. “You don’t know that-- and if they do think I’m dead, it means I’ll get the drop on them. It’s better if I find them,beforethey find me.” He looks at Kaleb with a fatalist level of certainty. “Because eventually, theywillfind me, and when they do, a lot of innocent people will die in really fucked up ways before they get to me. I’m the last one.”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be the first thing you do,” Kaleb counters fiercely. “Training is one thing. At least wait until you have some semblance of real experience before you go after demons that have evaded some of the best dark nephilim for over sixty years.”
“Wait-- why would they look for you?” I ask, taking in Connor and Nolan’s downcast gazes and carefully blank expressions. “It’s not a fluke that you’re the last of your line, is it?”
Donovan’s face turns to stone, and no one will meet my gaze.
“Why will innocent people die when they find you?” I continue, my voice an angry hiss, because none of them look like they’re going to say anything.
I intensely stare Kaleb down, but for once, he refuses to crack. Somewhere in my mind that’s not ruled by fear, is a voice saying it’s not fair that I’m asking them to spill their secrets when I still have so many of my own. But I just keep thinking of my dream. Of the lives I end in a raging ball of fire, and they’re talking about people that we could save. I think of Donovan’s matter-of-fact acceptance that he’ll die young when there could be ways to prevent it.
“Answer me.” I slam my hands on the top of the lunch table, startling all of them. The ice in my veins has given way to a rolling boil.
Nowthey’re looking at me, and the silence seems to be filled more with shock than refusal to speak. Probably because this is the most life I’ve shown in the past thirty-six hours.
“Guys, could we not piss off Callie?” Nolan mutters, looking at me like the ticking time bomb that I am.
Just above a whisper, Kaleb asks, “Do you want me to tell her?”
“I’ll do it,” Donovan grunts. “I can’t research demons in the cafeteria, but since talking about how they murdered my family is fucking fine, she might as well get the full story-- not your sugar coated version.”
“Just because I see nuance where you like to make the world a binary of ‘with you’ or ‘against you,’ doesn’t mean it’s sugar coated,” Kaleb replies evenly, clearly trying to hold onto his patience that’s been fraying throughout lunch.
“Nuance?” Donovan scoffs, his eyes wide with disbelief. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“Stop it,” I grind out, and the stone between my breasts begins to warm.Oh that can’t be good.
“Stop talking around me, and tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Connor takes my left hand and threads his fingers through mine, and Nolan begins rubbing slow circles on my lower back. I’d be annoyed, if I didn’t constantly feel like Bruce Banner fighting to control the Hulk. I take in a deep breath and release it slowly through pursed lips.
Donovan flicks his black hair away from his face and crosses his arms, his biceps bulging under his dark grey Henley. All the buttons at his throat are undone, and the shirt opens wider as the fabric stretches across his chest and shoulders.
