Chapter 19
CALISTA
There’s a dossier waiting for me the next morning.
I flip through it soundly, noting the mug shots and forlorn expressions of men who unknowingly put themselves on the Dragon’s shit list.
“See that they do not return to their beds tonight.”
My eyes dart to the woman sitting across from me, the woman who holds the keys to Wolf Hollow. I’ve always wondered whether the town’s board members would laugh or cry knowing their revered leader drinks her morning coffee with a fuzzy bathrobe on.
“Who are they?”
“Don’t know and don’t care.” She sighs before taking another sip, “One of my suppliers filed a complaint and I promised them a quick solution.”
I cast my eyes down, tallying up the number of kills on this sheet. It’s well into the double digits and that’s before you take into account any friends lingering in the vicinity.
“Will that be a problem?”
The harsh tone draws my attention back to the woman across the table.
All sharp angles and long dark hair, my mother is one of the few people in Wolf Hollow who falls beyond the realm of beauty.
Her lips are a bit too thin, her nose a bit too long and the cruel cut of her face leaves Maleficent Drache with a striking appearance instead of an attractive one.
She’s an unpleasant looking woman but I can’t help but admire the features that speak to her character rather than her complexion.
“No.” Straightening my shoulders, I lock eyes with the guardian who taught me everything I know, “I’ll see that it is done.”
“Good.” She sits back in her chair, regarding me carefully, “Once that business matter is settled, I need you to renegotiate with the White family. This next batch of drugs is going to be worth a pretty penny and I don’t want them taking more than their usual share.”
“Already done. I discussed the terms with Evelyn White last night.”
“And?”
I smile, “Not a single price increase in sight. She agreed to make the compromise for an old friend.”
A glimmer of pride shines through her dark eyes.
It’s a look I used to live for, a spark of recognition that used to put some life back into my soul. Achieving the impossible fueled me for years until even the Dragon’s approval couldn’t withstand the weight of my demons.
“Well done, Calista.”
Her fingernail taps the table. Long and curved, the talon is painted a striking shade of emerald, an exact match for my eyes.
Sometimes I flatter myself by saying it was an inspired choice. Other times I acknowledge the woman I will always be trapped under.
The claws that will never be fully released from my throat.
“Have you heard about the new thief in town?”
She watches my expression carefully, the same watchful eyes that ensured I became the person she designed.
“Christopher Deville.” Tilting my head, I purse my lips thoughtfully, “I heard he’s been making quite the fool of himself already. Something about emptying a casket?”
“It would seem he’s on the hunt for anything that sparkles.”
“In a town like this, I’m surprised he found anything at all.”
The joke falls flat on the kitchen counter, the distance between us not enough to dissuade the displeasure stretching across my mother’s face.
Once upon a time, that look would have sent me running for the closest corner to cower in. A safe haven until the storm blows over and my punishment was put to rest.
Nowadays, that look does nothing except amuse me.
“And if he turns his attention on Drache Manor?”
Her brows are arched, the underlying challenge loud and clear.
And if he gets the best of you, what then?
“Then I’ll deal with him myself.” My lips split into a wide smile, “There are far too many secrets buried within these walls to let them slip out.”
A beat passes before she lifts her mug and takes a sip.
“See to it that you do.”
“Oh, I will.” My grin doesn’t waver as I stare her down, “After all, a woman’s worth only goes as far as her word. Isn’t that right, mother?”
The Dragon smiles back at me, her eyes glimmering with an emotion far greater than pride.
“Only time will tell.”
My heels echo through the halls as I leave the kitchen, the noisy departure the only sound for miles. The security detail does not stray farther than the guard towers stationed along our property, and the staff who work to keep our space livable are paid to stay in the shadows.
It’s a big empty house, save for two people who are rarely home.
Lonely is a word that often comes to mind whenever I walk through these halls. It’s the grandest structure in Wolf Hollow, but not even the largest family could fill these walls.
There’s simply too much space.
Cold, empty space that feels a lot like the one in my chest.
There’s only one person capable of lifting my spirits on days like this and I find him waiting for me outside my bedroom door.
“There you are.”
Ronan’s tail starts to thump the ground, his ears perked with excitement. A low whistle tells him everything he needs to know, a signal mixed with a silent call for help.
I can always count on Ronan to help.
The warmth of his body crashes into me, the love and devotion radiating from his enthusiastic kisses doing their best to chase away my sullen mood.
His tongue catches the tip of my nose and I laugh, sinking to the floor and wrapping my arms around the beast who never fails to welcome me home.
“How have you been, baby?”
He barks before crawling onto my lap and offering his belly. I scratch it with a smile, feeling the ache start to dwindle and dissolve.
“Mama’s been chasing down the town’s newest bad boy. You remember him, don’t you?”
A corresponding growl has another laugh slipping out.
“That’s him. Caused quite the scene at White Castle but I have a feeling we’re going to catch him soon.”
Ronan makes himself comfortable on my lap, his chin resting on the jagged scars running along the inside of my thighs.
I drag a fingernail down the grotesque skin, thinking about the men who left them there. Seven businessmen in total, they each took a turn sneaking into a little girl’s bedroom and tying her down so there was nowhere for her to run.
Nowhere for her to hide.
It was my first test. Pass or fail, the scars are a reminder of all the times I failed. All the nights I screamed and cried until their disgusting needs were satisfied.
They took everything from me.
My pride. My future. My life.
Stripped as easily as they did my nightgown all those years ago. It was humiliating, even for a pre-pubescent girl.
So I got smarter. Stronger.
And when I was finally strong enough to take back what was mine, I took it all. I took until their screams broke through my callused shell. Until their blood soaked through my clothes and the life drained from their eyes.
Their pride. Their future. Their life.
I took back what was mine.
Ronan’s wet nose nudges me gently, knocking me free of my thoughts and back into the present. He’s looking at me expectantly, our morning exercise long overdue at this hour.
“You’re such a good boy. Always keeping me on track.”
I bend down and cover his scars with my lips. Kissing away the past, I cuddle my baby boy until he’s antsy and restless to run.
“Alright, go get your collar.”
He lets out a bark and goes to get the sparkly monstrosity I fell in love with a few weeks ago. Clipping it onto his neck, I ruffle his ears one last time and straighten my spine.
“You ready?”
Tilting my head, I study the white scars breaking through his dark fur. The lines so faint and pale you would have to know exactly where to look to see them.
I bend down and run my finger over his skull. Pushing the fur aside, I feel the bumpy ridge that caresses the bone, the years of abuse leaking through years of recovery.
Abuse that can be easily hidden by a thick patch of hair.
Or murals of ink.
I press my fingers against the scars, thinking about the uneven texture of Christopher’s skin. A texture no tattoo artist would have been able to create, not even with the most intricate design.
A chill settles deep in my bones, one that won’t be easily washed away by my baby’s affection. It’s the kind of gut-clenching feeling that drives my feet through the forbidden forest and into the darkness.
Knife in hand, I go racing for the closest solution.
The wrong that almost makes me feel alright.