Chapter 18
Callie
Nolan is wrapped in the blanket, curled in on himself in one of his black recliners, staring dead-eyed out the window. The other guys are collected around him on the matching couch and floor, their expressions grim. My rage burns from a dark, cold place deep inside me, and my magic answers, coiled like a viper waiting for the order to strike.
“I will paint her in black salve while she lies on a bed of leaves from a gympie-gympie,” I announce, my voice the deep freeze of winter twilight. “She will suffer slowly, desperate for death, but she will live for every day you have suffered because ofher.”
“I don’t know what all that meant, but it sounded scary,” Felix comments from his place on the floor next to Nolan’s chair.
Donovan leans against the top of the chair with an impressed smirk. “Black salve is made up mostly of bloodroot and zinc chloride and it burns through skin tissue. The gympie-gympie’s leaves have stinging hairs that deliver a potent neurotoxin when touched. It’s known as the suicide plant because the pain is so excruciating some choose death to escape it.”
“Holy shit, pretty girl! That’s hardcore,” Felix exclaims, his green eyes open so wide I can see the white around the entire iris.
“Yeah, but where do we get the supplies and a place to stash Witch Bitch?” Donovan wonders out loud, standing back up to pace the short distance between the windows and Nolan’s chair.
“Mei’s family has the supplies,” I offer with the same deadly calm from my place on the opposite end of the room, trying to give Nolan as much space as he needs. Every time I consider taking a step closer, I recall the way he recoiled from my touch, and my rage grows a darker, sharper edge.
“I’m really starting to like Mei,” Donovan comments, his smirk growing into a vengeful grin.
“You can’t actually be considering this,” Kaleb interjects from his position on the couch closest to Nolan, a horrified expression taking over his features. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but we don’t torture and murder people.”
“Youtold Callie back in October to do something about Witch Bitch when she was being harassed and made to look insane. Well, you’re getting your fucking wish,” Donovan counters, heated fury burning at the edges of his words.
Kaleb launches to his feet and advances on him until they are inches apart, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You know what I meant, and it wasn’t murder!”
“I will take on the burden of her soul,” I announce once more, feeling the pull of the ancient magics that tie all living things together.
Kaleb grows very still and carefully turns toward me. His deep voice parcels out his words slowly, “Callie, what do you mean, take on the burden of her soul?”
“Spirit witch justice,” Connor supplies, steady as a mountain from his position on the side of the couch closest to me. His tone rings of the many deaths that stain his hands, of an alpha that must be willing to do anything to protect his pack.
“That kind of justice was a long time ago,” Kaleb argues, looking at the others in hopes that someone will agree with him.
Connor shrugs. Felix shrinks in a way that exposes his uncertainty. Donovan gives an unbreakable glare.
Nolan shifts his focus directly to me, his piercing blue eyes as cold as my rage. His voice is firm and unwavering as he says, “No. She is mine.” He lifts his chin in challenge, while his gaze communicates that we are two mirrored souls of betrayal and suffering. Two victims that fight to be anything else. “We are not allowed to kill your father for what he’s done to you. You will not touch Gina for what she’s done to me.” There’s a harsh tic in his cheek from his clenched teeth. “Iwill deal with her.”
With a request that is impossible for me to counter, my magic dissipates into the family stone, and though I’m still angry, I’ve lost the murderous edge. Tired and heartbroken by my own helplessness, I collapse into the opposite reclining chair.
Donovan strides in front of Nolan’s chair, and with hands braced on each of the armrests, he forces Nolan to look directly at him. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he vows in a deathly calm that highlights that I’m not the only lethal being in the room.
Instead of frightening me, it’s like stroking fingertips inviting my darkness to play. I grip my necklace tightly and breathe through the desire to destroy in his name. The thought of the two of us at our most deadly is both arousing and disturbing. Wearedangerous.
Sensing my internal struggle, Connor stands up and places a warm hand on my shoulder. I place mine on top of his and squeeze, taking in his stable comfort and acceptance of all that I am. Kaleb watches the exchange with his mask firmly in place, so I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling.
Satisfied with Nolan’s answer, Donovan steps away and goes back to pacing, his simmering rage still evident in every step. He’ll respect Nolan’s wishes, but he’s not going to be happy about it.
“What will you do?” Kaleb questions cautiously, his voice smooth and even as he sits back down on the couch.
Releasing a shuddering breath, Nolan pulls the blanket tighter around himself. “I’ll let you know when I have it figured out.”
Before anyone can prod further, Felix leans his head back against Nolan’s foot and asks, “Is there anything we can do to help you now?”
Nolan glances at me then looks back through the windows at the cold wet outside. He clears his throat. “I need to talk to Callie for a minute… alone.”
“You sure?” Donovan checks, his eyes flicking back and forth between us.
