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What a hypocrite I was for getting up on my high horse and looking down on someone else for being a killer, when it was all I’d done with my own life since I was sixteen. Until I had real answers, I couldn’t start judging anyone based on their murderous habits.
It only felt different because it was a teenage boy. And because I thought Calliope was above that sort of thing.
“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with. ”
Holden could go through the gate on his own, but Desmond was another story. Desmond was technically extra forbidden in Calliope’s realm. First, because he was a werewolf, and shifters were notoriously unstable in fae realms, and second, because the Oracle had outright forbidden me from ever bringing him back.
But he was staying with me until we got to the bottom of the whole Kellen situation. I was worried if I let Desmond out of my sight for even a moment, Lucas would manage to make him disappear. God knows what would happen if I went into a fairy realm. I
might come back out and find Desmond was long gone and there was no easy way for me to get him home again.
So the wolf was staying with me until I brought Kellen home.
I took Desmond’s hand and held tight as we approached the entrance to the coffee shop. The gate to Calliope’s realm was designed to allow through only those in need of her aid. I was pretty damned sure we qualified, but whenever I came to the passage with anyone else, I had the nagging worry it wouldn’t let me through.
Don’t let today be that day, I thought.
Holden passed through first, and instead of stepping into the foyer of the Starbucks, he vanished. One down, two to go.
“Don’t let go,” I instructed.
Desmond said nothing but squeezed my hand firmly. I approached the door and pulled us both through. Normally a faint tingling sensation was all that accompanied my transition through the pass. Stepping in this time felt like entering a vacuum, which was the first sign something wasn’t right. Desmond’s hand tightened on mine so fiercely my bones felt like they were grinding against each other. I tried to call out in protest, but the air was sucked from my lungs, leaving me gasping.
When I looked at Desmond, his face was pale, and he was clutching the front of his shirt. He couldn’t breathe either. I kept trying to suck in air, but it was about as fruitful as a fish on dry land gasping for water.
Then the cold came, chilling me so suddenly I wondered if we hadn’t been dropped into ice and frozen solid. Shivers racked my body, setting my teeth chattering and covering my skin in goose bumps. Desmond’s hand felt clammy and waxy in my own, like he wasn’t real anymore.
I tugged him onward, not sure anymore if we were actually moving, or if we were going in the right direction. It was obvious we couldn’t stay where we were, though. He resisted. His nails dug in, and in an instant they weren’t human nails anymore. His lupine claws shredded my skin like Kleenex. I didn’t want to let go, but the agony of his claws burned through my wrist like my bones themselves were made of hot coals. I screamed soundlessly and swiped out at him.
It wasn’t until the blood pooled on his forearm that I realized my own hand had transformed.
We stared at each other, truly breathless, and I understood what was happening. We were too close to the full moon, and now that I’d changed, I could no longer control my wolf in Calliope’s realm. I started to panic, wondering if we’d be trapped here forever, however short a time that would be without air, when the vacuum gave way.
Desmond and I, both bloody and gasping, stumbled through the other side of the passage and found ourselves safely in Calliope’s waiting room. A fire was burning, and Holden stood next to the Oracle, waiting for us. Desmond pulled his claws free from my wrist and collapsed on the rug, sucking in air and holding the wounds on his forearm. I cradled my brutalized wrist in the crook of my arm and tried to keep my half-wolf hand hidden.
It was pointless. Neither of them missed that we’d staggered into the room claws-deep in each other.
Holden’s nostrils flared as the scent of fresh blood filled the room.
Calliope, wearing a crimson-colored satin party dress, her black hair hanging in loose waves over her shoulders, gave Desmond and me a cursory once-over.
“Secret, you promised me. ”
“I know. ”
“Yet here you are, and here he is, and it seems once again you’re asking me to break my rules for you. ” She crossed her arms and frowned, her supple lips turning into a delicate pout. It was almost offensive how beautiful Calliope was.
“We need your help,” I said.
“Clearly. ”
I followed her gaze to Desmond and watched him tremble. A line of hair grew and then faded on his neck. Over his body the same thing was happening—coarse hair appearing and instantly vanishing, seemingly in time with his heartbeat. Just watching him made a shudder rumble through me. My wolf could smell his wolf, and she wanted to accept the invitation to come out.
I had to look away from Desmond. I wanted to help him, to hold him until he got himself under control, but I was certain the moment I touched him my humanity would melt away entirely and we’d all be screwed.
My inner wolf wasn’t exactly a good listener.
Holden seemed to sense the internal dilemma I was wrestling with and came to stand beside me, placing a hand on the back of my neck like Desmond had done in the elevator. His touch felt blissfully cool against my too-hot skin. Just his touch and the nearness of the scent of vampire helped me pull back from the edge. The bones of my hand realigned—very painfully—but by the time I glanced down again they were normal.
