Chapter 19 Callum
CALLUM
Ilean back in the chair after she finishes speaking, my fingers drumming silently against my thigh.
I can't fucking believe this.
Everything she's lived, everything she's survived, it's like getting handed a biography of someone who got every wrong card in the deck and somehow is still sitting upright.
I mean, your mom dies, then you go to your father who brainwashes you, exploits you, and draws your blood for some sacrificial bullshit.
Zaria sits on the edge of the bed, wiping at her face, trying to compose herself.
She looks small. Breakable.
I look away. I don't want to see this.
Going after the man who killed my father and tried to take out Keira and Declan is one thing. That's business. That's war. But seeing what Cormac does firsthand to his own daughter, his own fucking blood, is something else entirely.
It's twisted in a way I don't know if I'll ever understand.
I've done a lot of things. Ordered hits. Pulled the trigger myself. Watched men beg for their lives and ended them anyway because that's what this life demands.
But this is different.
Cormac didn't just hurt her. He molded her, shaped her into something he could use and discard. And the worst part is she still talks about him like he's got some kind of hold on her, even now.
I shift in the chair. I cannot shake my guard around her.
Every instinct I have is telling me I'm already too close to her, and I don't fucking like it.
I should have never let her out of the basement. Never should have kept her from my family. Never should have given her food, clothes, and a fucking room in my house.
But I'm clear past all that now.
I'm not acting like myself, and it's getting under my skin.
The more she talks, the more I understand, and the more I hate that I understand.
The big plus here, however, is that everything she's told me has been true, except for Shadowharbor pulling licenses and permits. That, I couldn't verify yet.
But Matei's men found the nurse, the one Brother George bribed and threatened, who swapped the IV bags. It was all exactly like she described.
There is no denying the fact that she hasn't lied yet.
But I need something else. Something more from her so I can put my mind at ease, trust her a bit more, stop thinking this is all part of Cormac's plan, because clearly the man will do whatever it takes, including forcing his own daughter to do unspeakable things.
Most importantly, I need to start looping in my family.
Declan is breathing down my neck, calling and texting what seems like every few hours. Keira is restless, and I'm sitting here playing twenty questions with the enemy's daughter while my mother prepares for my dad’s burial.
Sometimes a man needs a job to stay busy while he thinks.
My father's words.
He used to say that when I was younger, when I'd get too deep in my own head. He'd hand me a task, inventory, collections, a meeting with a contact, and tell me to work through it.
I need that now, maybe not for me but for Declan, so I can have time to figure out what to do with her.
I need something tangible. Something we can act on.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and meet her eyes.
"I need you to do something for me," I say. "Make things easier for me."
She nods quickly, her hands twisting together in her lap.
"Can you do that?"
"Sure," she says. "What do you have in mind?"
I watch her for a moment, searching for any sign of hesitation, but she's just giving me that wide-eyed, trying-to-please look.
"Give me a location," I say. "Something tied to the Order."
Her brow furrows slightly. "Like a ritual site?"
I nod. "Yeah, like that."
I'd love the location of the compound, but I know I'll need an army to take it. So I need to start small. Build it up.
She gives me this, then Brother George, then Cormac.
That's the best course of action.
She thinks about it, her gaze drifting to the window.
"Okay, sure," she says. "It's Wednesday, right?"
I nod.
"Okay." She exhales. "I can give you one that would have just been used. If you go tonight, there may still be people there, but there's a good chance no one will be."
"Okay."
She licks her lips nervously. "Can I have a pen and paper, please?"
I stand, walk to the dresser, and pull open the top drawer. I pull out a notepad and a pen. When I hand them to her, her fingers brush mine.
Her hands are small and delicate and soft.
"This is the harbor here," she says, and starts drawing.
Her words mute as I watch her hand move across the page.
She doesn't notice me staring or, if she does, she pretends not to.
My eyes linger on a scar that runs across three of her fingers as she draws lines, curves, and what looks like a cluster of trees.
Maybe it's because I'm starting to believe she's actually giving me something real, but I feel a twinge of violence rising in my chest. A need to destroy whoever gave her those scars.
I don't question it.
It's probably the same person I want to kill anyway.
"There you go," she says, and hands me the page.
I take it, studying the map she's drawn. I see a long road, the warehouse district, and a building near the water circled.
"Go there tonight," she says. "You'll see."
"What happens at these sites?" I ask.
My phone starts buzzing in my pocket and I ignore it.
"Normally it's symbolic rituals," Zaria says. "Now, it's killing. Blood lettings and sacrifices of my fellow Sisters. Friends. Which is what caused me to wake up."
Her voice cracks on the last word.
I pull my phone out and glance down at it.
Shit.
It's Keira and she's sending me text after text.
Call me.
Call me.
Call me now.
I fold the paper and shove it into my pocket.
"Stay on the bed and be quiet," I say, and press the call button as I walk into the bathroom, shutting the door slightly.
She answers on the second ring.
"Callum!"
"Everything alright?"
"No." Her voice is furious. "I just got off the phone with our connection at city hall."
"Okay?"
"Shadowharbor just pulled every fucking license they helped us get.
Every zoning permit for the hotels, apartments, construction, gone.
The liquor license for Third Street? Gone.
They even had an emergency city council meeting called last night and took our name off the plans for the new city park benches downtown we donated money for. "
I turn around and stare out the crack in the door at Zaria sitting on the bed looking around the room.
Son of a bitch.
This was the last thing Zaria told me I couldn't confirm, and now it's happening exactly the way she said it would.
"Okay," I say. "Okay. We'll figure this out."
"How, Callum? They totally fucked us."
"I don't know, Keira. But we will. Call Declan. You two come here now."
I hang up before she can argue.
I stand there for a moment, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
My knuckles are still bruised from the other night.
Fuck.
It just keeps getting worse and worse. This is the first time I wish I had my father here, just to ask a question or get some guidance.
I walk back out into the bedroom and stare at Zaria, gripping the phone in my hand.
"Our permits have been pulled," I say.
I shouldn't be talking family business with her, even if she was the one to tell me about it. But she already knew and tried to warn me.
She nods and sighs. "Told you. Just don't meet with them."
I pull out her map and hold it up.
"I'll check this out. If this is a trap, going back to the basement in the dark will be the least of your concerns."
"You're leaving?"
"Yes."
"When will you come back?"
"Not sure," I say, and continue walking toward the door.
"How long do I have to stay here?"
"As long as I decide," I say.
"Okay but," her voice cracks, "I gave you that."
I stop and turn around.
"You did. And I've given you a bed, food, and clothes. We're even."
I turn back toward the door.
"Outside," she says, and I can hear the shakiness in her voice. "You have a pool."
"Yes," I say, not turning back.
"Can I go for a swim? Just once?" she asks, and clears her throat. "I haven't been in one since I was nine, when my mom took me to the community center before it closed. I won't try and run or anything, I promise. I just want to feel the water."
I don't say anything.
I walk out and shut the door behind me, the lock clicking into place.
Tommy is waiting in the hallway.
"Sir?"
"Keep her in there," I say. "Keira and Declan are on their way. When they arrive, bring them to my office."
"Understood."
I head downstairs, the map burning a hole in my pocket.
If this proves useful, she'll get what she wants.
And I don't know if that feeling should bother me or not.