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When Callum nodded, Elle turned the lock and they headed up the stairs, coming to a stop behind the door that led into the kitchen. There was an eerie silence, the sort of ominous silence that occurs right before a storm broke. Callum gestured towards the wooden door separating them from the room beyond. Unlike the one downstairs, this one wasn’t reinforced. He held a finger to his lips.
Elle nodded and, instead of calling, texted. The reply was instantaneous, the vibration loud in the stairwell. Elle replied and Callum stayed alert, straining for sounds that would tell him what was happening. Elle turned the phone so he could read Lake’s reply.
Nearest armed response unit is in Glasgow.
Callum felt sweat break out on his lower back. That was three hours away by road. The phone buzzed again. Texts coming in fast.
Police mobilised. Coming in by air. One hour.
My team one hour later.
Active military regiment in Irvine. They are mobilising. 40-50 mins.
Stay alive.
The phone stopped buzzing. Callum looked at Elle’s pale face.
“They aren’t going to get here in time, are they?” she whispered.
No. They weren’t.
Callum handed the phone to Elle because she was faster with it. “Text everyone,” he whispered. “Tell them to retreat to the basement. Tell them help is an hour away. We’ll defend the basement until it gets here.”
Elle nodded and typed furiously on the tiny screen. She nodded when the message had been sent, and Callum inclined his head, indicating for her to go back downstairs. He kept himself between the upstairs door and Elle as they hurried downward. Behind him, he heard a short, sharp whistle, a warning his team were coming in, and then the door opened. Callum looked up to see Megan hurry through it. Dimitri followed, his gun pointed back into the kitchen, covering his wife.
“Ryan?” Callum mouthed at Dimitri.
He held up a hand to signal he’d be there in one minute. Ryan was obviously up to something, and Callum hoped to hell he knew what he was doing.
They hurried down the stairs. A gunshot rang out above them. Elle stumbled. Another gunshot. And then a massive explosion rocked the house, sending the four of them tumbling down to the door below.
The blast boomed through the basement, making the floor shift and the walls shake. Sophie started to cry, and Isobel held her tightly, shushing her.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s only a big bang. It’s okay.” She looked at Jack, who was facing the door, stun gun in his hand. “Jack?”
“I don’t know what it was.” His lips were a thin grim line, but his hands were steady.
“I should be the one standing guard,” Isobel said.
“Then you should have taken kung fu classes instead of eating cake with the three witches.” He smiled at her, trying to calm them all. Her boy, who wanted so badly to be a man.
“Okay, I agree, you have more skills.”
“And more muscle.” Jack’s attention was back on the bedroom door. “I don’t hear anything.” He cast a worried glance over his shoulder at her sitting on the bed, Sophie curled in her lap. “Should I check?”
“And do what?”
“Medical help if someone needs it?”
“Callum told us not to leave this room.”
“What if he’s hurt?”
Isobel had to swallow back the bile that burned her throat. “He won’t be.” He can’t be.
“He isn’t Superman,” Jack said, but he didn’t sound convinced, and Isobel realised that Callum had become exactly that to all of them—their larger-than-life hero.
“He has bionic legs.” It was the only thing Isobel could think to say. She wanted to reassure her kids, let them know that Callum did have superpowers.
