“Gross,” I cringe, my face twisting to fully showcase the yuck factor I’m experiencing. “Thanks for that… so we’ll be doubling down on that nope. Upgrading it to maybe a ‘hell no’, or perhaps a ‘fuck no’.”
“Let’s hope you don’t need it to control your magic,” he counters, with a hard squint while his knee bounces up and down.
“And that’s enough of that. Should probably spread out the creepy history and rituals,” I groan, closing the journal. “Now, how do we tell the others?”
“Don’t tell Nolan,” Connor demands, sitting up and cradling my hand between his.
“You too?” I lament.
Donovan runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. “Being able to make new supernaturals is even bigger than the ‘could wipe out several states’ thing. He. Will. Freak.”
Connor runs his thumbs along the back of my hand in soothing patterns, while his eyes beg me to understand.
My heart sinks, remembering how safe I felt in Nolan’s arms. The way he looked when he thought I was afraid of him, and his relief when I told him I wasn’t. Would he hate me if he knew the full truth of what I am? What I’m capable of?
“We won’t be able to keep this from him forever,” I reason, hunching in on myself while my free hand goes back to picking at my jeans. “Won’t he be mad when he finds out that we’ve kept this from him?”
“Oh, he’ll be pissed as fuck,” Donovan answers, not making any of this better, “but by then we’re hoping he’ll just be mad about the lie, not…”
“Scared of me?” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he sighs, rubbing at his face. “Look, it’s not personal. He’s just had the shittiest track record when it comes to magic.”
“I know the feeling,” I mutter, and he at least has the decency to wince.
Connor reaches up and lightly touches the side of my face, drawing my gaze back to his. “Give him time,” he murmurs gently.
“How much time?” I whisper, fearing the secrets inside me growing until I’ll burst.
Donovan clears his throat and rubs at his face with both hands. “Until the idiot can see you past your magic.”
“Great,” I groan, dropping my head down on Connor’s desk, my forehead pressed against the closed journal. “That’s just great.”
Chapter 11
Callie
Iwake up gasping with the taste of smoke and ash still on my tongue. The dream again.
First, it was the steel table, trapped and burning. This time, I was able to break free, but it didn’t bring me relief. Instead, engulfed in flames, I fed the fire-- my all-consuming rage manically encouraging it to spread. To burn down the house and man that made me a prisoner, the city filled with people that didn’t see my pain, the state with its isolating deserts, anything and everything until my wrath was quenched.
Except outside my prison wasn’t Phoenix, but Twin Cedar Pass with acres and acres of forest ablaze. And there they were. My friends-- burning, begging for help, and I stood frozen. Inept and cowering, as the flames were no longer my means of vengeance, but again a tool of my torture. I watched them burn until all that was left was Felix’s hate-filled eyes.
Adrenaline still pumping through my veins, I reach over for my phone on my nightstand to check the time. Twenty minutes until my alarm goes off. I could get up early, but the bed is warm and I’m exhausted. Taking a few deep calming breaths, I remind myself it was all a dream and roll over to snuggle back into my blankets. My heart skips a beat finding Felix standing at my window, staring at something outside, as if my nightmares conjured him to cast judgment.
“Felix?” I mumble, propping myself up on my elbows.
He doesn’t respond or seem to even hear me, his stance rigid and his attention fixed on something outside. That’s when I notice that the taste of smoke is not from my dreams, but real, a haze funneling into my room from the cracked door leading out to my balcony.
Fear grips me as I climb out of bed, and I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs, each breath stinging with the whiffs of smoke. I don’t want to see, but I have to know. With my hands clenched into fists, desperate to hold myself together, I walk the few steps to stand beside Felix.
Nightmares and reality blur together. Outside is a bonfire that reaches the height of my balcony-- the same spot Felix’s family was burnt beyond recognition.
My body becomes rigid, each muscle turning to stone, as I fight to keep myself from going under again. I choke on each breath, black dots dancing around the edges of my vision, and somewhere there are terror-filled screams.
Within moments, my vision goes blurry and I see nothing but fire like it’s crawled up the house into my room and is now a circling cage. My father’s furious words echo that it’s my fault. That if I wanted to, I could make it stop.
No no no. Please no. Stop. It hurts.
