Still of Night, page 11
“Scott?” Miranda echoes. “He…he’s your brother, right?”
“Depends on who you ask.” I let out another sigh. “Thanks again, guys. I’ll…I’ll…I don’t know, eat my feelings tonight and then figure out how to deal with this.”
Easton opens his mouth only to snap it closed again. “I’ll do some digging and will let you know if I find anything.”
“Okay. Call me, though. Don’t show up in Thorne Hill again,” I warn. “And tell the rest of your hunter buddies to stay away too.”
“I will…when we’re on speaking terms again,” he mumbles.
“Why wouldn’t you be on—never mind. I don’t care.” I take another drink of wine. “Fine, I do. I’m nosey.”
“Not killing you and the vampire—”
“His name is Lucas,” I interject.
“Not killing you and Lucas,” he repeats, saying Lucas’s name with distain. “It didn’t look good for me.”
“Because I’m a witch?”
“Because he’s a vampire.”
Miranda leans against the counter and I realize I should have pulled out a barstool for her. It wasn’t that long ago that her leg was mauled by demons. It has to still be painful to walk on. “You killed a demon that was responsible for a lot of hunters’ deaths. Witch or not, we know we’re in your debt, so to speak.”
“Lucas helped too,” I say. “I wouldn’t have been able to defeat that demon if it weren’t for him.”
“I brought that point up, but well…” Miranda shakes her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Did you ever find out what kind of demon that was?”
I shift my gaze to Lucas for half a second. We did, and know that the demon rose straight from Hell, trying to find someone worthy to bring forth his old pal Pestilence and get a kickstart on the apocalypse.
“I never got a name.” I shake my head. “But it’s dead now, so what does it matter, right?”
“Right.” Miranda puts the light back in her bag and picks up her crutches. “This house is incredible,” she says, much to Easton’s chagrin. He knows it’s Lucas’s and he’d be damned before he admitted that Lucas had anything worth envying.
“It is,” Lucas agrees. “But I won’t miss it when Callie and I move in together in Thorne Hill. We’re restoring a century-old mansion. It’s Callie’s dream house.”
I do roll my eyes this time. “You’ve been in it,” I tell Miranda.
“That big white house in the woods by your place?” she asks, and I nod. “Oh wow. It seemed like it needed a lot of work.”
“It does, trust me, but it’s worth saving. I love old houses.”
“You seem to like old things in general,” Easton spits, meaning for it to be an insult, but all it does is make me laugh.
“Thank you again,” I tell them both. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly forgive Easton for what he did to me, but I do know coming here—to a vampire’s house—puts them at risk for being excommunicated from their group of hunters.
“You’re welcome, Callie,” Miranda says. “Really, it’s the least we can do after you helped us on more than one occasion.”
I walk them both to the door and watch to make sure they get into Easton’s truck safely before closing the door. I lean against it, head flopping back.
It’s late, I’m tired, and I want to sleep in my bed, surrounded by my familiars. I like being here in Lucas’s fancy house, but I miss Thorne Hill.
“You should get some sleep,” Lucas tells me.
“I know.” I inhale deeply and force my eyes open wide, as if that’ll keep me awake. “I won’t be able to sleep, though.” I had a lot on my mind hours ago, now I have more shit to pile on. I push off the door, planning on going into the kitchen, downing the rest of my wine, and crashing in Lucas’s bed.
But if we stay the night, we’ll have to stay the day, and I just want to be home.
“If we leave now, we’ll make it to Thorne Hill before sunrise.” It’s as if he can read my mind, and I’m so fucking thankful for Lucas. “Unless you want to stay.”
I shake my head. “I want to go home.”
He puts his lips to mine. “Me too.”
Lucas packed up a suitcase full of clothes, and has another full of things from his office. I quickly cleared out the fridge and took the trash outside for pickup later in the week. We don’t plan on coming back to Chicago for quite some time.
So much hangs above me as we get into Lucas’s Range Rover.
My dead mother.
My angelic father I’m desperate to see again.
Julian—my mysterious cousin who’s been watching me the last few months yet isn’t here when I need him.
The Vampire Council wanting Lucas to join them and represent vampires in a political sense.
The Grand Coven and their stupid rules.
Angels.
Demons.
And now witch hunters for hire.
“My dress will take about two months to come in,” I say, getting my phone out and opening up my Pinterest wedding board. “So I think a wedding the weekend after Samhain will be perfect. It’s on a Tuesday, so that whole week leading to the wedding will be full of festivities.”
“What do you do for Samhain?” he asks.
“We celebrate,” I start. “We start the night before with a feast. Then at midnight, right as it officially begins, something is sacrificed.”
“Something?”
“It’s usually a goat or a…a lamb.” I blink and remember the lamb from my dream, being led to the hellhound for slaughter. “It’s traditional, but I’ve always refused to watch it. Though I will eat the meat after it’s been butchered and cooked.” I shrug. “Then we eat, drink, and dance, mostly. Samhain is the day when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest, so we leave offerings to spirits, and young witches who haven’t gotten a familiar yet can partake in the Maelfica ritual in hopes of calling a spirit to them.”
“Interesting.”
I nod. “It’s easier to communicate with the spirit world then, but it’s also easier for malicious entities to come into our world too, so we’re encouraged to stay at the Covenstead. There’s always a masquerade ball Samhain night. I love dressing up in gothic Victorian ball gowns.” I smile, feeling a bit of disappointment when I remember Lucas can’t come with me to the Covenstead.
“And Halloween is actually a big deal to the town of Thorne Hill too. Probably because the town was founded by witches.”
“With the nons?”
“Yes. We have trick-or-treating downtown the Friday before Halloween. Kristy and I always make a really cool creepy scene in front of the store and pass out candy. And then that next day the town hosts a beer fest. It started years ago to try and keep the nons all together in one protected space. The Ley line can get a little wonky on Samhain, and if big bads are coming and going from the gates of Hell like Julian said, then things might get dicey this year.”
“You put a protection spell on the town?”
“Oh, there are tons.” I twist in my seat. “It’s hard to keep a spell like that going for more than a few minutes at a time, though, but on Samhain, the entire coven puts a collective circle of protection on the grassy area the beer and wine booths are set up on.”
Lucas puts his hand on my thigh. “Then I think the week after Samhain is perfect. Which puts our wedding date on the fourth.”
Hearing him say it out loud should fill me with joy. November fourth. It’s not all that far away. I’ll be marrying the man of my dreams, even though he stopped being a man years ago.
My eyes fill with tears that spill down my cheeks. We’re speeding along the highway and Lucas turns, blue eyes meeting mine.
“Why are you crying?” he gives my leg a squeeze.
“What are we doing?” I ask, voice a hollow whisper.
“Driving home,” he says slowly, knowing that’s not the answer I was looking for but not knowing what else to say.
“I mean, who are we kidding?”
“What are you talking about, my love?”
“This!” I hold up my left hand, ring flashing in the dim light. “I spent a lot of money on a dress today and we’re picking dates like everything is okay, but it’s not okay. Not at all. We’re not supposed to be together.”
More tears fall and everything that I’ve bottled up comes bubbling to the surface. Lucas speeds down an exit and pulls over and the side of the road.
“And I just can’t help but feel like I’m setting myself up for disappointment. I want to marry you, Lucas. I love you so, so much but I feel like everything is against us.”
My eyes fall shut in an attempt to dam up the tears, but they keep falling like rain, marring my t-shirt with little drops. I’ve never wanted anything more than to be with Lucas. To marry the one person on this earth that I love more than life itself.
“Angels, demons, and witch hunters aside, if the Grand Coven finds out we got married and Tabatha knew—” my voice hitches. “They’ll strip her of her title as High Priestess at least and then…and then…I don’t know.”
“Callie,” Lucas says, deep voice calm and soothing. “It’s going to be okay.”
“But is it?” I suck in a shaky breath. “I just want to marry you, that’s all.” I move my head back and forth. “And it’s not fair for them to say it’s wrong for us to be together. It’s not, not at all. You love me and I love you and we’re not hurting anyone by loving each other.”
“Callie,” Lucas repeats, just as gently as the first time. He cups my face in his large hands and tips my chin up. He kisses me, and some of the stress and anxiety melt away. “We will figure it out.”
“How can you be so sure? I want this so bad, Lucas, so bad it scares me that it’s not going to happen.”
“I want to marry you. You want to marry me. Together, Callie, we make a rather powerful couple. If anyone wants to tell us we’re wrong to be together, we’ll make them rethink it.”
I bring my hands up to his, taking solace in the way his cool skin feels against my hands.
“I guess I just wish I could have my cake and eat it too.” I blink away more tears. “Because the only way I can see this all happening is if I leave the coven for good.”
Lucas’s brow furrows. “You shouldn’t have to do that. The coven is your family.”
“You’re my family too. You’ll be my husband.”
“I want to marry you, Callie, but not at the expense of taking you away from your coven.” He takes my hands in his and fingers the big diamond on my finger. “We don’t need titles. Don’t need rings or white dresses.”
My heart speeds up in my chest. Is he un-proposing? It’s not because he doesn’t love me, but because he does.
“No,” I say firmly. “We don’t need them, but I want them. Call me selfish, but I want to walk down the aisle and kiss you in front of those who mean the most to me.”
“Then that is what we will do.”
My eyes, swollen from crying, beg to be closed. We’re about half an hour from Thorne Hill, and Lucas hasn’t let go of my hand the whole drive into town. I’ve faced a lot of bad shit the last few months. Been in a lot of situations that I didn’t think I’d get out of alive.
Yet there was always some shred of hope. Some unlikely way I’d find a way out. Lucas’s cool fingers laced through mine are giving me that hope once again.
I rest my head back against the seat and let my eyes fall closed. Anxiety rushes through me as soon as I start to drift off.
Angels want to kill me.
Demons want to use me.
Scott tried to kill me.
The fact that I’m certain it’s him who hired the Order isn’t what upsets me. He’s hated me since the day I first showed signs of powers, and I actually thought he’d tried to end me sooner than later, especially after I turned him into a cat. But what bothers me the most is that he’d risk Abby, Phil, or Penny.
The Martins are hardened pieces of shit, but they care about each other, if only for selfish reasons. Risking Abby is a new low, even for Scott.
Nancy probably called him crying, telling him how I embarrassed her in front of her friends by telling them that I’m marrying a vampire. Scott, being the noble son he likes to pretend he is, promised to handle it.
How he had contacts for the Order, I’ll never know. Though if these hunters are killing supernaturals for a price, it’s not surprising they’d approach someone like Scott or my former father.
They’d pay premium to have anyone remotely different than them murdered in cold blood.
I think about it as I drift to sleep, and my dream takes on a familiar form. In my dream, I’m sitting on my front porch, looking out at the side of the yard where the hellhound is. For some reason, I’m not afraid of it anymore.
“Hello again, Callie.”
I jerk my head up and see him walking toward me. My blood runs cold and I want to go into my house. He’s dressed in a black suit with a blood-red button-up shirt showing under his jacket. He throws out a hand and holds me rooted to the spot.
“Don’t,” he says, and when he blinks, his dark eyes glow blue for a split second. “I just want to talk.”
“What do you want?” I ask, voice shaky as I stare down Lucifer. “It doesn’t matter. This is just a dream.”
“Is it?” He tips his head and holds out his hand, snapping his fingers. All at once, he’s next to me on the porch. “You don’t really think it’s just a dream, do you?”
“I’m asleep, so what else would it be?”
Lucifer laughs, and the sound of bells and drums echo behind his laughter. “That’s a nasty cut you have there.” He reaches for the bandage on my shoulder.
“Don’t.” I jerk back and Lucifer holds up his hands.
“Fine. Heal at your annoyingly slow rate then.” He puts his hands in his jacket pockets. “You ran into Nancy Martin today.”
There’s a question in his statement, but I don’t know what to say.
“How’d that make you feel?” he asks, leaning back against the porch railing. “Angry, didn’t it?”
“Of course. How else would I feel to see the woman who just stood by and let me get sold to a research lab?”
Lucifer clicks his tongue. “They’re terrible people. I’ll make sure to save them a special seat in Hell, as you humans like to say. Anything for my one and only niece.” He claps his hands together. “Want to take your revenge now? I can help with it. Torture is kind of my thing.”
“No,” I say quickly.
“You want to, though, don’t you? It would feel good. Just think of all those years of pain. All those years of suffering. How long have you thought about getting revenge? Of letting the truth be known so the world can finally see what pieces of absolute shit the Martins are?”
“I do.” I’ve thought about it before. Many times. Of going on camera and spilling the beans on everything. Though it’s not that simple. Saying I was sold to a research lab because I have supernatural powers will make me sound crazy. That’s what the media will focus on, not the fact that William Martin is a complete and total twat-waffle.
“Then do it! You’re a witch! Get creative.”
My throat starts to feel tight. “No.”
“No? Why not? The world is your oyster, kid! You’ve got more power in your little finger than most humans can even comprehend. Blow shit up. Take control. Act on your desires.”
“Hurting the Martins will hurt my sister, and I don’t want to do that.”
“You love her more than you hate them?” He pushes off the railing and looks at me incredulously.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“Interesting. Almost disappointing, but interesting. Tell me. What do you get out of this relationship with the girl who’s not really your sister?”
“I…I…it’s not about getting something out of it,” I finally stammer. “I love her and she loves me. We take care of each other.”
A hand lands on my shoulder and I jerk awake. “We’re home, Callie,” Lucas says. I blink several times, feeling out of it from falling asleep.
It was just a dream. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Though even I know that’s not true.
11
“Can I help with anything?” Lucas comes up behind me, slipping his cool hands under my t-shirt. I’m standing at my small island in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. It’s Sunday, and my friends are coming over tonight so I can tell them about Julian.
We’ve spent the last few days hyper-focusing on the house. Lucas did it for my sake, I know, though we both know that shit is about to hit the fan, and if Scott sent witch hunters after me once, he’s going to do it again. I’m not sure how hitmen work, but I assume they don’t get their full payment until the job is done. We’ve both been on edge the last few days, though the only place safer than my house is the Covenstead.
I’ve upped the warding on the house even more than before, and my familiars have been constantly patrolling the woods. I cloaked Binx when we went to the hardware store again, and I made sure to go out of my way to say hello to Officer Maxwell, whose wife frequents the bookstore. The things you do when hired killers are after you…
But no one will protect me like Lucas, and he was more than ready to rip out throats and pull beating hearts right out of the chests of my enemies.
All in all, no one tried to kill me, and Lucas didn’t kill anyone. But we did pick out a stain for the refinished hardwood, finalize paint colors, and ordered a new runner for the grand staircase. I’m still debating on my lighting choices, and while the house will take months if not a good year to fully restore in detail, we should be able to move in sooner than we thought. All I really need is a functional kitchen, a working bathroom, and heat and electricity. We can live there while the finishing touches are being put on, or we could just stay here in my little farmhouse.
It makes more sense to stay here, but I’m getting impatient to move in with Lucas. I’ll miss this house, that’s for sure, but moving in together feels like a fresh start in some way.
