AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Who is Dante?” I ask, watching him closely for any flicker of a response.
His jaw tightens before he exhales a dark, humorless laugh. “I thought you didn’t hear anything.”
I shrug and ask another question. “Is he a vampire?”
Atlas hesitates. His brows furrow as he seems to consider his answer. “Yes.”
“You seemed angry on the phone. Why?”
He shakes his head. “Game over, Calla.”
“Why?” I push.
“It’s not your concern,” he growls in my face.
I stand my ground. “I don’t believe you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so fucking uptight right now.”
“I do not care what you believe. Now if you don’t mind, I need to—”
“I do mind, actually,” I cut him off in a sharp tone.
His lips press into a tight line, and he grabs my shoulder, holding me in an unbreakable grip as he drags me to the door. Ripping it open, he all but shoves me into the hallway and slams it in my face. It all happens too fast for me to have any reaction until we’re separated by a thick pane of frosted glass.
I slam my fist against the door. “Asshole!” I storm back down the hallway, knowing I’m not going to get anywhere with Atlas. Gabriel, though, I might have a shot gettingsomethingout of. He seems to have a soft spot for me, and I am not above using that to get some information. Desperate times and all.
Walking back to my room, I close the door behind me. I pull out my phone and open a new message. I’m not sure what brings me to do it, but I start typing a message to my mom.
It’s Calla. I have a new number. And a new address—with roommates.
I chew my bottom lip, reading the message over and over, debating on whether or not I want to send it. She knows they came for me based on what Brighton told me. With a sigh, I hit send and drop onto the end of my bed, staring at the ceiling until my eyes start staying closed longer with each blink. I’m dozing off when my ringtone blares, startling me awake and upright as I reach for my phone. I swipe across the screen three times before I manage to answer the call without checking the number.
“Hello?”
“Oh, my sweet Calla. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Hi, Mom.” My voice cracks, and I pull the phone away from my ear and clear my throat before bringing it back and saying, “What’s going on? Why are you calling me?”
She sniffles, and I can hear the pain in her voice when she says, “Your father is here, too.”
My stomach drops and my grip on my phone tightens. “Why are you calling?” I ask again, swallowing the lump that has gathered in my throat.
“I needed to hear your voice. After Brighton got in touch with us, I tried to reach you. I even looked into booking a flight there but… We’re so sorry, Calla,” Mom cries.
Dad clears his throat, and his voice is gruff. “We wish there was something we could do. If we could save you—”
“Please,” I cut in, my chin wobbling as I fight back tears. “There isn’t… You can’t. You never could.” This conversation is a perfectly painful example of why I’ve barely spoken to either of my parents since I graduated high school. As much as they can’t handle the guilt over the deal my dad’s family made, I can’t deal with listening to them apologize. And it’s only made worse by the fact my mom had no idea about the blood oath until it was too late. It was never her fault, and the guilt she carries makes me want to scream. It makes me want to hate my dad for keeping it from her, but even after all these years—even after being taken by vampires—I can’t hate him. He’s… he’s my dad.
“How are you?” Mom asks in a quiet voice. “I mean, are you… Have they hurt you?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “No. I’m okay, Mom.”
She chokes on a sound of relief, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I have to go. I…” It takes me a few beats before I can speak again. “Please don’t worry about me.” I want to tell her not to call me again. That it’s too hard to hear her voice—and dad’s—but I can’t bring myself to do it.
“I’m so sorry.” She cries harder. “We love you so much, baby.”
I shake my head, though they can’t see it. “I love you.” I end the call, and the phone slips out of my hand onto the bed. Tears slip down my cheeks, and the pressure in my chest from holding them back so long threatens to burst. I struggle to swallow the sob lodged in my throat. I choke on it, grabbing blindly for a pillow to muffle the sound. I cry into it, unable to hold back any longer. My shoulders shake and my head pounds, but that pain dulls in comparison to the agony of having my heart cleaved in two.
