Chapter 36 Callum
CALLUM
The bulletproof glass spider-webs as rounds slam into the windshield.
I duck down, pressing my back against the seat. The glass holds. It's done its job, but another volley punches through the driver's side mirror, showering Tommy with shards.
I don't wait. I shove my door open and jump out, landing on the asphalt in a crouch. I bring my gun up and start firing.
The first shooter is maybe twenty feet away, hiding behind a dumpster. I aim and squeeze the trigger twice. The first shot hits him in the chest and he jerks backward, his gun clattering to the ground. The second shot drops him completely.
I fire three more times into the dumpster, making sure I get anyone else hiding behind it.
I duck back behind the door as return fire peppers the SUV. The sound is relentless.
BANG
BANG
BANG
I scan to my left, then right. The parking lot erupts in chaos as my men pour out of the other SUVs, laying down covering fire.
I see Octavian and Declan returning fire from behind their doors. Declan's got his AR-15 up, firing controlled bursts.
"Motherfuckers were ready!" he yells over the gunfire as he ejects a spent mag and slams in a fresh one.
The parking lot turns into a war zone.
I count bodies. Five down. Maybe six. But more pour from the building's side entrance, robes flapping, guns raised like they think they're soldiers.
I fire, catching two more, and they fall.
Just when I'm about to claim another, a sudden explosion hits.
The sound is deafening, like a thunderous boom that shakes the ground beneath my feet. I look up, and the top-floor windows blow outward in a shower of glass and debris.
Flames replace the windows, orange and violent, licking up toward the sky as black smoke billows out.
"What the fuck!" Declan shouts between shots. "Why is he setting the building on fire?"
My chest goes tight and adrenaline floods my system so fast I feel dizzy.
Zaria.
She's in there. She's in that fucking inferno.
Something inside me snaps, and all I can think is she's burning alive and I'm standing here like a fucking statue.
I don't think. I don't plan. I just move.
I abandon the cover of the door and start shooting, moving forward like a goddamn tank, firing at anything that moves.
A bullet whizzes past my ear, close enough that I feel the heat. I don't slow down.
One shooter pops up from behind a concrete barrier, and I put two in his throat before he can squeeze the trigger. Another charges me from the left, and I sidestep his wild shot and put a round through his eye socket.
"What are you doing!" Declan yells as he and Octavian move up beside me, shooting, covering my flanks as I push forward. Another robed figure appears in the main entrance and Declan's rifle sends a burst of shots into his chest. Octavian takes down two more from our right with single shots.
After a few moments, the shooting slows and bodies litter the parking lot, but the fire rages overhead.
I stop at the building's entrance, the doors hanging off their hinges now from the bullets as smoke pours from the upper floors, thick and black.
I turn to face my brother. "I'm going in. Stay here."
Declan lowers his AR-15. "Like fucking hell you are. The goddamn place is on fire. That roof could collapse at any moment."
"It's not up for debate. It's my call. Stay here."
"No!"
I stop. Turn back. "What did you say?"
Declan meets my gaze without flinching, his face stern. "I said no. You run the family. Fine. You want to be secretive with your intel. Fine." He takes a step toward me. "You running into a burning building, fucking committing suicide basically? No. I draw the line."
"You draw the line?" I step forward too, my rage channeling toward him because it has to go somewhere, has to find a target before it tears me apart.
"Yeah. I want the motherfucker dead too, and if you insist on running into hell, you're not going alone."
I open my mouth to remind him who's in charge, who makes the calls, but something stops me.
A scream tears through the air.
It rips from the building's broken windows, raw and agonized and unmistakably female.
The sound cuts through the scattered gunfire of our men making sure everyone's dead, through the roar of flames, through every thought in my head.
Zaria.
Declan's eyes widen. "Who the fuck was that?"
I don't answer. I look at Octavian, then turn toward the building and start running.
Zaria's in pain. Zaria's in trouble.
I burst through the main door, my shoulder slamming into the frame.
The lobby is chaos. Overturned furniture and shattered glass everywhere. The emergency lights flash red, painting everything in strobing crimson.
Four robed figures appear from a side corridor, weapons up.
I throw myself behind a doorframe as bullets hit the wall next to where I was standing. I return fire, and then I hear gunshots behind me. I turn and see Octavian and Declan following despite my orders, laying down suppressive fire.
"Cover me!" I shout.
I don't wait for confirmation. I break from cover and sprint, firing as I move. One shooter drops. Another stumbles. The third turns to track me and Declan's rifle fires once and his head snaps back.
I reach the stairwell door and slam through it.
Behind me, more gunfire and shouting, but I'm already taking the stairs two at a time, three, hauling myself up by the railing as smoke pours down from above.
"Callum!" Declan's voice echoes from below.
I glance down and see him through the smoke. "Outside! More cars, they're not ours!"
"Go handle it. I got this!" I yell down.
He curses, then turns and runs out.
I turn and keep going.
My lungs burn and sweat pours down my face. The temperature rises as I get closer to the top floor.
The smoke is growing thicker now, the air harder to breathe.
Zaria is up there.
She's in trouble.
I need to get to her.
I repeat it over and over as I reach the top floor.
The doors are hot to the touch, so I kick them open with everything I have.
The rush of oxygen I allow in feeds the inferno.
The fire roars to meet me, a wall of orange and yellow that nearly drives me back. The heat is staggering, pressing against my skin like a physical force. Smoke burns my eyes, sears my throat.
But I see her.
Through the flames, through the chaos, I see the altar in the center of the room. I see Zaria pinned there, a silver handle gleaming in the firelight. She looks hurt.
Her face turns toward me. Even from here, I can see the tears streaking through the soot on her cheeks.
"Zaria!"
I run.
"Callum, wait!"
Pain explodes through my left arm.
I stumble and look down. Blood soaks my sleeve, spreading fast. The bullet tore through muscle, maybe clipped bone. I can't tell. I can't think. I can only see red.
I look around and all I see are flames and smoke.
Shit. I'm exposed.
"No!" Zaria screams.
Another shot.
White-hot agony rips through my left foot and my leg buckles. I hit the ground hard, and my gun slides away from my outstretched hand. My palm scrapes across burning floorboards as I try to push myself up.
Footsteps approach through the fire as I try to find my gun.
Cormac emerges from the flames like a demon summoned from hell itself. His robes are singed, his face twisted in ecstasy, and in his hand is a revolver pointed right at me.
"I've been waiting forty years to burn you for the prophecy."
I don't answer. I just stare at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my gun. It's about five feet away, too far for me to make a move for it.
The pain in my arm and foot throbs in time with my heartbeat.
Cormac steps closer, flames dancing behind him. "I never thought I'd have my daughter on the altar when I did it." His smile widens, displaying teeth stained with ash. "But both of you can meet the Morrígan together."
A rumble shakes the building and a section of ceiling comes crashing down, showering sparks across the floor. Cormac turns instinctively toward the sound.
I crawl and then lunge across the floor.
My fingers close around my gun's grip. I twist, raise it, and pull the trigger.
The shot hits Cormac in the right knee.
He screams and his leg folds beneath him. He hits the ground and points the revolver at me.
I fire again.
The second bullet hits his shoulder and he drops his gun out of reach. He collapses, blood pouring from his wounds.
I force myself to stand.
The adrenaline is a twisted gift right now, numbing the pain in my arm and foot to a simple throb. I can't put my full weight on my left leg, but I can limp. I can move. And I can kill.
I walk toward Cormac, keeping my gun on him.
He's trying to crawl now, dragging himself across the floor with his arms, leaving a smear of blood in his wake.
I holster my gun and grab him by the throat, forcing him to stand, then slam him against the nearest wall.
The impact drives the air from his lungs. He gasps, clawing at my hand, but I'm stronger than he is.
I punch him.
My fist connects with his nose and cartilage crunches. Blood sprays across my knuckles. I hit him again, his jaw this time, feeling bone crack beneath the blow. His head snaps sideways, blood and spit flying.
"You motherfucker!" I yell and hit him again.
And again.
And again.
Each impact sends shockwaves of pain up my arm, but I don't care. I keep hitting him, watching his face transform into a ruin of blood and shattered bone. His nose is mush and his jaw hangs at a wrong angle. One eye swells shut.
Finally, the pain in my injured arm becomes too much and I step back, breathing hard, and Cormac slides down the wall, landing in a heap at my feet.
He tries to crawl away.
I watch him for a moment. This monster who tortured his own daughter, who murdered my father, who built an empire on blood and fire and madness and called it revenge. He's whimpering now, dragging himself across the floor, leaving a trail of crimson behind him.
I step forward and bring my boot down on his right hand. I wince because I have to put all my weight on my injured foot.
But I hear his fingers break. Cormac screams again, louder this time, his voice breaking.
"You like fire?" My voice comes out low. "You like burning people?"
I grind my heel into his hand, watching his face contort in agony. The face that ordered hits on my family. That called for Keira to be marked and Declan to be attacked, and my father's life to end.
I stomp on his fingers again. These are the fingers that did terrible things to Zaria's flesh.
I look over at her.
She's watching me from the altar, her chest heaving. I'm glad she is, because her monster is being destroyed. And I'm the one doing it.
I release Cormac's hand and grab him by his robes, hauling him across the floor toward the edge of the burning circle. The flames have crept closer now, eating through the floorboards, consuming everything in their path.
"Zaria." Cormac's voice is barely recognizable, gurgling through blood and broken teeth. "Zaria, please. I am your blood! I am the true vessel of the Morrígan!" He twists in my grip, reaching toward her with his ruined hand. "Tell him to stop!"
I look at Zaria.
Her face is pale, streaked with tears. The firelight dances in her eyes. For a long moment, she just stares at the man who called himself her father, the man who branded her, tortured her, sacrificed her sisters on altars just like the one she's on.
Then she looks at me and nods.
Her answer is my command.
I turn back to Cormac. I pull him up by his robes until we're face to face, until I can see every glimpse of fear in his remaining good eye.
"You're nothing," I say.
His mouth opens to beg, to curse, to pray to his false goddess. I don't give him the chance.
"This is for my father." I shift my grip. "For your attacks on my family." I step toward the fire, dragging him with me. "And for her."
I throw him into the flames.
The fire embraces Cormac like it's been waiting for him.
His robes ignite first, then his hair, then his skin. He screams, a distinctive sound that rises and rises until it seems to shake the walls themselves. He thrashes in the inferno, a human torch, arms flailing uselessly against the flames that devour him.
I watch him burn.
The screams grow louder, then begin to fade. His movements slow. His body blackens, curling in on itself like paper thrown into a hearth.
Then silence.
I turn away from what remains of Cormac Donoghue and run toward Zaria.