Chapter 34 Callum
CALLUM
Istep back into my office, shut the door. I lean against it for a second, eyes closed, breathing through my nose.
Keira wanted to push. I saw it in her face, but thankfully our mom intervened and told her it's okay and got up. This is the life of a leader.
And Keira listened.
Thank God.
I don't have time for explanations. Don't have time to manage their emotions or field questions I can't answer yet.
I move to my desk, pull out my chair, and sit.
The iPad is still where I left it. I unlock it, pull up the recording again.
I rub my forehead and sit forward.
Focus. I need to focus.
I have about an hour, give or take, before everything arrives, and I need to answer the biggest question I have right now. Where the hell is the Old Ruins?
I pull open the top drawer of my desk and pull out the stack of files I've been collecting since this all started. Everything Octavian gave me, the documents Matei sent over, and notes we've made or uncovered.
I look over them, my eyes scanning page after page.
Nothing.
I replay the recording again, as if I'll hear something I haven't already.
But all I hear is the location I don't know.
"Old Ruins. Old Ruins," I say out loud.
I rewind the recording and play it again.
"The Morrígan is disappointed in you, daughter. Now we must please her."
I freeze.
Is he really planning to please his fucking make-believe goddess? No. I can't finish the thought as my jaw tightens.
If he harms her, if he does any of that sacrificial bullshit, I'm going to rip his windpipe out with my bare hands.
I take a breath. Then another.
Relax. Focus.
If he's planning a sacrifice, where would he do it?
Not the warehouse Zaria brought me to. She would've said that name in passing. I know she would have.
Being that he made her believe he had my mother, it's got to be somewhere more secluded. Secret, or meaningful even.
I flip through the newspaper clippings, the police reports, the property records.
Shit. This is frustrating.
I slam my hand on the desk, rattle the pens in the cup.
Think, Callum. Think.
I replay the recording again, this time staring at Zaria's note. The one I found on her dresser.
I have to go home. Don't try to find me. I won't come back to you.
Home.
Where the hell would be home to her, or him for that matter?
Wait.
I pull one of the older files toward me, the one Octavian first gave me. It's about Cormac's family, his parents, the massacre, the fire.
I flip to the property records.
There. The address where it all happened and he survived.
I pull up Google Maps and type in the address.
I click Street View, and once the page loads, I pinch and zoom in.
It's the office complex. I drove by it. No home there anymore.
Dammit.
But something catches my eye, something I'd seen before but never noticed.
There's a sign out front. I zoom in.
My blood goes cold.
It reads: Old Ruins Complex.
I fucking got you.
There's a knock at my door.
"Come in."
The door opens and Octavian steps inside.
"Anyone with you?" I ask.
"No." He shakes his head. "There's some men outside talking to Tommy. Declan's not here yet."
"Okay. Sit."
He does, folding his arms across his chest.
I sigh, leaning back against the desk. "Cormac has Zaria."
Octavian leans forward. "The girl Matei brought you? His daughter?"
"Yes."
His jaw tightens. "Shit."
"And we're going to get her back," I say, my voice steady. "But as far as Declan's concerned, we're going just to kill Cormac and end this Morrígan Order bullshit once and for all."
Octavian shrugs. "It's all the same to me. I've been itching to put a fucking bullet in more of them since they took Keira."
"Well, now's the time."
The door opens again, and Declan walks in, his face stern. He's already in a black tactical vest, a gun holstered at his side.
"This better be what I think it is," he says.
"It is." I stand. "I've got Cormac's location. Let's go fucking kill him."
Declan nods, a grim smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know what? I don't even care how you know right now. After everything, the warehouse this morning, finally, I'm ready to end this."
Tommy walks in behind him. "Men are ready, boss."
"Good. Let's go down to the basement, load up weapons, and head out. I'll brief everyone when we're by the cars."
All of us head out of the office, moving through the house in silence. Down the stairs and into the basement, where we keep the arsenal.
"Go tactical, like Declan here," I say, pulling off my suit jacket, tossing it on a chair.
I grab a black vest, strap it on, grab a Glock handgun, and slip extra mags into the pockets on the vest.
Declan grabs an AR-15, checks the chamber, slings it over his shoulder.
Octavian pulls a knife from the rack, tests the blade against his thumb, then tucks it into his belt.
"Stay sharp," I say, looking around at the men gathered. "This is it."
We head back upstairs, out the front door, where six black SUVs are idling in the driveway.
"Listen up," I say, looking around. "We're going after Cormac Donoghue.
The man responsible for my father's death, the warehouse fires, the attacks on our routes, Declan and Keira," I say, glancing at the ground, "just about fucking everything in recent months.
He's holed up at the Old Ruins Complex, south side of the city.
When we arrive, I'll give further instructions. Until then, stay ready."
I don't mention Zaria. Not yet.
That's mine to carry.
I climb into the lead vehicle. Declan and Octavian take the back seats. Tommy drives.
The SUVs peel out of the driveway, tires screeching as we hit the main road.
Six vehicles moving in formation, speeding south.
The city blurs past as we weave between cars.
My hands rest on my knees, fingers tapping as thoughts of her flash in my mind.
"You good?" Declan asks from the back seat.
"Yeah," I say, glancing back at him.
He studies me for a second, then nods. "We're gonna end this."
"Yes we are."
I stare out the window, watching the buildings shift from residential to industrial, with warehouses, abandoned lots, and graffiti-covered walls.
"ETA five minutes," Tommy says to me.
"Okay," I say.
I lean forward, checking my Glock one more time. Slide it back into the holster.
My mind drifts to Zaria again. To the way she looked at me last night before falling asleep. The way she smiled, tired and soft.
Then to the way she sounded on that recording. Terrified.
My chest tightens.
Hold on, Zaria. I'm coming.
The SUVs slow as we turn onto a narrow road lined with chain-link fences and overgrown weeds.
Ahead is the Old Ruins Complex. The sign out front is rusted, barely legible.
Tommy pulls up to the fence, idling.
I stare at the building.
It looks empty, but I know better.
"Ram the fence," I say.
Tommy doesn't hesitate. He guns it, and the SUV slams through the chain-link with a crash. The fence tears apart, posts bending, wire snapping.
The other SUVs follow, flooding into the parking lot.
We stop, and I look around. It's quiet except for the engines running.
Suddenly, bullets explode against the windshield.