Chapter 26
CALISTA
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
A motto my mother lives by, it is one I was forced to adopt at an early age. The taste of bitter resentment staining each morning and every night until there’s nothing but contempt.
Hatred.
Two things that fester and grow until the pieces you thought you knew turn into something unrecognizable. An infection that consumes you until there’s nothing but the ugliest, darkest slivers left inside.
My knife glides through dark skin, meticulously removing each layer of the man’s face. His tears disappear into the cavities of his cheekbones, his anguished cries lost to the trees standing guard around us.
After a while, the screaming stops.
But it doesn’t make a difference.
The mutilated body falls limp next to the others, the mass of bones and muscle tissue looking nothing like the group of men I found earlier tonight.
Five against one, the little girl didn’t stand a chance.
And neither did they.
The damp sponge of moss bleeds into my skin like the tears that were lost. Kneeling beside the wide-eyed child, I press two bloodstained fingers against her eyelids.
And slowly lower them closed.
“You’re safe now.”
I whisper the promise as I gently push her body into the nearby stream. Her stained dress billows out around her, carrying the lost princess to a kingdom far greater than this one.
Ronan waits patiently by the tree line, his head bowed as my sullen mood spills into the river and spreads across the forbidden forest. Trees tremble and creatures cower as they wait for the screaming to stop, for the diseased soul to finally return to her own territory.
An itchy layer coats my skin when I finally drag myself away from the riverside. Blood in its final form is dry and brittle, a callused reminder of what it once was.
I carry it with me, the final piece of the men who took something that wasn’t theirs to take. I let it sit along my cheekbones, across my chest and down my torso.
I let it feed the dragon etched in my skin so we don’t forget.
The past. The present.
The dismal future waiting for us.
There’s a tremble in my step when I start the long run home. A shake to my hands as I slip the knife back inside my sports bra.
Right foot. Left foot.
Ronan bounds through the trees, his massive form clearing the path so I don’t have to do anything but stumble forward, forcing my feet in the direction I want them to go.
The Drache Manor soars high into the sky, the sharp peeks and equally tapered arches serving as a knife to anyone who dares to pass. Designed to withstand the strongest army, each window is reinforced with bulletproof glass and guard towers are stationed at every entrance.
It's amusing to me that it's designed to keep thugs and thieves from breaking in.
No one ever stopped to ask whether there was a little girl who wanted to get out.
My phone rings as I’m approaching the front steps. Ronan hangs back, his eyes glued to the rodents disappearing through the trees. He looks back at me with pleading eyes, the desire to stay outside ringing loud and clear.
“Go on. Mama will catch up with you later.”
I watch him take off, galloping into the trees with a sense of freedom I never had.
Tasting the bitterness on my tongue, I force the thought aside and answer the call.
“Have you heard from him? It’s been over a week.”
Impatience flows down the line and into my ear, Marlin’s exasperated tone offering a surprising degree of comfort in my current state.
“It’s so nice to hear from you too, dear friend.”
“Christopher Deville needs to make a decision. Our window of opportunity is growing smaller with each passing day.”
My mother’s minions don’t spare me a glance as I start walking up the stairs. They’re on duty twenty-four hours at a time, a constant rotation that ensures the Dragon’s survival, and more importantly, her well-being.
“Are you getting nervous, Marlin?”
He sighs, “I do not enjoy basing the essence of our plan around someone else. Particularly someone who is as reckless as he is.”
I pause at the top of the landing, studying the ferocious creatures guarding the arched doorway. Wings flare out and teeth snarl as the dragons do their best to prepare guests for what lies ahead.
“We always knew it would come to this.”
“We knew it would come down to acquiring the skills of a thief. Not jeopardizing our entire operation because a notorious criminal suddenly got cold feet.”
“You give him too much credit. Christopher isn’t worth much on this side of the pond.” Tilting my head, I study the statues for a moment longer, “Besides, I think he found some warmer socks.”
I hang up the phone and look at the man lounging beneath the dragon’s wing. He’s watching me, dark eyes scanning every inch of my body while he lays hidden beneath the shadows of my mother’s empire.
“Is there a reason why you’re always covered in blood?”
A smirk hits my lips, “Hunting season.”
“Hunting season hasn’t started yet.”
“You hunt?”
“No.” Sitting up slowly, he winces, pressing a hand against his abdomen, “One of my many stepfathers would count down the days until the season began. Had a bunch of hunting dogs he would take with him.”
I nod, remembering the brief mention of Roger Dearly in Marlin’s report.
“Fitting husband for a woman in the fur trades.”
“Something like that.”
Christopher climbs to his feet, his movements similar to what you would expect from an old man. Groans ring out as he stands up and brushes the dust clinging to his t-shirt.
I watch him with idle amusement, “Do you need assistance? A terry cloth and a cup of tea, perhaps?”
“God, I miss English tea. Your stuff here is shit.”
He sighs, staring off in the distance before turning his attention back to me.
“We need to talk.”
“I’m listening.”
“In private.” His eyes dart towards the guards making their rounds, “Where no one can hear.”
Men. Always so paranoid.
Instead of leading him into the house, I turn and walk back down the front steps. Christopher follows me at a careful distance, his presence drawing attention from every guard on duty.
Those fools had no idea he was here in the first place.
We round the back of the manor and enter the chain-linked fence that’s been broken for years. It leads to a gravel path, one that winds its way around the dead branches and scraggly shrubs until we hit the greenspace.
Few people know of its existence, partly because of its proximity to the town’s feared leader but mostly because no one ever cared to look.
“Wow.”
Christopher blows out a breath as he looks around the tiny patch of earth that stores the handful of positive memories I have of Wolf Hollow.
Miniature bridges erupt from the luscious ground, their bright colours and delicate frames serving as a prop to the fairy garden that’s laid out in front of us.
A multistep waterfall cascades over rocks and flows into a reservoir built within the ground.
Three figures flutter over swaying petals and loose leaves, their cheerful dresses identical to the delicate petals around them.
“I feel like I fell into a fairytale.”
Wonder fills his voice as he follows me through the paths designed for a child. I brush the wings of the fairies as I walk past, feeling the grim expression of Flora as she takes in the dirty state of my clothes.
“It was a gift from my mother.”
I don’t look at him as I run my hands beneath the waterfall. Cool liquid rushes past my fingers, washing away the bloody residue and temporarily erasing the sins staining my skin.
“That’s one hell of a birthday present.”
“It wasn’t a birthday present.”
Cupping my hands together, I splash water over my face, thinking about the trials I had to pass before Maleficent agreed to build me this sliver of paradise.
Our relationship has been transactional for as long as I can remember.
Pass a test, earn a reward.
Simple rules that can be bent into any horrifying shape you want. People say a child’s imagination is the most wondrous thing, but truly they do not give enough credit for the twisted minds willing to play a little game.
A game which always takes more than you have to give.
“Didn’t you have something you wanted to talk about?” Making myself comfortable on the ground, I splash some water on my legs, “Something that needed to be discussed in private.”
I’m mocking him, poking at his paranoid exterior in hopes that he’ll react.
“Did you hear me, Devil? I said-
He reaches out and touches me.
Carefully, and oh so gently, it takes a moment for my instincts to kick in.
Grabbing his wrist, I twist it to the side and roll my body forward. My momentum knocks him off balance, the unnatural angle of his arm forcing him to follow me or risk dislocating his shoulder.
I have him on his back in five seconds flat.
My knife on his throat by the sixth.
“Your scars-
“Are available for viewing pleasure. Not touching.” Canines flash as I snap my teeth together, “Reach for my legs again and I’ll make sure you have a matching pair.”
Christopher blinks up at me, his eyes darker than I have ever seen them.
“You could have told me.”
“And you would have done what? Kiss them better?” A sneer hits my face, “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s too late. Nobody came to save me then and I don’t need anyone to save me now.”
I shove off the ground and put a few feet of space between us. My fingers are trembling as I slip my knife back inside my sports bra, the beads of pink liquid taunting the unsteadiness of my hands.
Christopher sits up, grass clinging to the longer strands of his hair. The predatory look in his eyes fades as anger morphs into understanding.
“I didn’t mean-
“Did you have actual questions or have you finally made a decision?” I cut him off, tired of the sentimental game he’s trying to play, “Either way, Marlin is getting impatient.”
He nods slowly, accepting the topic change without complaint.
“I need to know why.”
It’s a simple question yet the answer is anything but simple.