Chapter 19
Nineteen
The Mage Board has thoroughly instilled that any devil or angel who allows their true inner self – their true form – to consume them they are to immediately be put to death. The magnitude of power that thing inside of ourselves has been said to rival gods.
Morals don’t exist for them. Thoughts, feelings – they don’t have them. No one knows what purpose they serve, only that they are a type of damnation and shall bring the end of worlds.
And yet. . . when Callahan broke through nearly every shield of my mind and screamed two words into it that nearly fractured my consciousness, I knew one thing. Those things in us. . . they have thoughts. Because it was not Callahan who said those words to me.
It was his true devil.
The thing that is now slowly consuming himself. The black ring around his iris covering all gold and white. His iris and pupil indistinguishable from each other.
With Thorne behind him, his hands firmly griping Callahan’s shoulders, I say his name again.
“Callahan.” A demand. Thorne was always better with trying to get him back than I was but nothing Thorne said got through. “Let Callahan back.”
His body seems like it’s made of stone with how rigid and hard he is. His face not even twitching, and his breathing doesn’t even move his chest. Black eyes darker than the nothingness between stars continue watching ashes drift.
My brain can’t focus on that though, because if Callahan fully unleashes his devil we’re all fucked. And most importantly, he’s dead.
“Callahan,” I try again. If this doesn’t work I’m going to have to call his mother. Without fail she has always been able to bring him back.
“She’s gone.” His mouth moves and it’s Callahan’s voice but not. It should not be possible for it to speak. “Mine, and she’s gone.”
I don’t dare let my eyes stray from his, even as he continues watching the ash. I don’t know how it’s possible, what happened or why Mavyn is gone and there are only ashes left, but his true devil is somehow fixated on her.
“We need Callahan back,” I say quietly. Cautiously. It still doesn’t look at me.
“She is mine,” it says again. “She cannot be gone.”
No, she can’t.
But I can’t even begin to process what has happened or how it’s possible. Right now my only priority needs to be to get Callahan back.
“Bring Callahan back and we will find her.”
It sounds like a promise, but I don’t know how I can keep it. I don’t even know what happened.
Finally, solid black eyes inch towards me. There’s an unfathomable depth to them that makes you want to look away. Staring at the eyes of a thing beyond parallels. Something too twisted to be a god and yet with power surpassing them. It’s like looking at endlessness.
“We’ll find her together,” I continue, praying to the damned gods above Callahan will come back. “But I need Callahan. I need him back to find her.”
There’s a ripple in the endlessness of its eyes. Then right around the edge of its pupil red lights up. A sliver of Callahan back.
“I need Callahan back to help me find her.”
A shudder works through his body as the black in his iris retreats. Returning back to the edges of his iris and golden eyes are now looking at me. Golden, tortured eyes.
“Varian,” he croaks. This time it sounds like him. And then he crumbles.
Thorne is there to catch him as I grip under his arms. A broken sob rips out of his throat as his fingers curl into my white button up. Already rumpled from staying up way too late last night and then sleeping for a couple hours in it.
I hold Callahan and for the first time since coming here look around the room. Ms. Waterstone is hidden within Mr. Ruleten’s arms as her body shakes. Sobs heave out of her as Mr. Ruleten stares in shock at the ashes still slowly drifting down behind me.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I clear my throat and try to get the vampyr’s attention. “Mr. Ruleten.” He doesn’t even budge. Enforcing more power into my voice, I demand, “Mr. Ruleten!”
He eyes too slowly slide over to mine. Caught in a daze as he stares at me but I’m not sure if he’s actually seeing me.
Callahan is still sobbing in my arms and Thorne looks nearly distressed. I need to know what happened. I need to see it for myself. And with the true devil still lurking near his surface, I can’t go looking through Callahan’s mind.
“I need your permission to enter your mind so I can see what happened,” I say slowly and with more power influencing my voice. Just barely he dips his head and I don’t waste a second in case he changes his mind.
He lets his few walls down so I can walk right in. Strong, well-built walls, but nothing compared to hers.
His shock splinters into absolute petrification and I realize he’s been hiding his emotions as well. Whatever happened must have been unthinkable.
Passing his emotions, I weave through the library of his mind to the memory of what just happened. Beginning it with him standing behind Ms. Waterstone as she opens the door to her dorm.
The first thing he notices is Callahan. He’s sitting on a wooden chair facing one of the beds. The side of the room always so bare, always so sad. It shouldn’t be fair that she should have to live like this when it was never her choice to come here. No one should be forced into. . .
I shove past every minute thought and emotion he has. I’m not here for his opinions of the bloodsucker, I need to know what happened.
Looking from Callahan, he finally looks to her. And I almost fracture his mind as she comes into view. As I see her, sitting crisscrossed on her shit-looking bed, arms behind her as she rests on them, with her bare legs exposed.
Bare legs absolutely covered in scars and bite-fucking-marks.
. . . six, seven eight – nine fucking bitemarks just from what I can see. With scars you can tell were made from multiple objects.
It takes every ounce – all the practice I’ve had these past two hundred and fifty years – to keep from shattering the vampyr’s mind. To keep that thing inside me at bay.
Distantly, outside of this mind I’m currently in, someone asks, “Are you okay?”
I nod my physical body because if I were to speak or move in any other way more than an inch that true devil would be unleashed. The type of rage – the wrath that wants to be unleashed. There’s barely a couple inches between each scar from one another.
Continuing the memory, I continue flowing through it. Hearing her speak and confirming that the vampyr and mage knew about her scars. She threatens Callahan to keep his mouth shut about them. And then she stands. Her shoulders rolling as she stretches her neck side to side.
And then poof.
There’s no flash, to flicker, no explosion. No whisper of a spell or crack of a curse. The sun isn’t even up yet so it’s not as if she could have burned away faster than half a fraction of time. And now she’s gone.
Exiting Mr. Ruleten’s head I come back into my own mind and body. Thorne is staring at me as he continues to grip Callahan’s shoulders. The latter who’s still slumped into me and drenching my shirt with his tears.
He should not be having this severe of a reaction.
But then again, I nearly let go of my control over my true devil when I saw her.
Illogically I would say it was with good reason.
Those scars, the markings, they couldn’t have just happened from accident.
And they couldn’t have just been from her trying to distract herself from the devil. Those were torture marks.
But I must think logically.
Gripping Callahan’s sides, I pull him away from me and up.
Easily lifting him so his face is level with mine even though his legs have given out.
I’d almost say he looks pathetic, but I can’t even think that with everything else that has happened.
He needs me and knowing Callahan he does not need any weaknesses pointed out at the moment.
Tears continue to stream down his face in rapid succession. Red already rims his eyes and snot has started to drip down his nose. He looks worse than distraught. He looks as if someone has just ripped out his. . .
I look past Callahan to Thorne and his eyes widen just as the thought enters my mind.
But. . . that can’t be possible.
Except I look back to Callahan’s eyes, the splintered rawness within, and somehow I know.
“She’s your fated,” I breathe, barely more than an exhale of breath. But it’s as if I shouted it with the way everyone else jerks back.
And I see it. I can see it all within his eyes.
The only way to physically see, to look upon the soul of another.
Callahan pauses his turmoil as I watch the embodiment of his soul.
A soul that is torturing him because the one who links with him is not here.
That is why it was possible for his true devil to be able to communicate with me. Why it wants her.
So much is seen through his gold eyes. So many answers I’m given.
Staring into the eyes of a true devil or angel is like staring at endlessness. It’s the nothingness between stars. But looking upon a soul through the eyes of another is like the universe giving you every answer to everything and nothing.
A true form is more than just what we are on the inside. A true form, the reason its power can surpass gods, is because it’s an embodiment of fate. And Callahan’s fate is death.
“She can’t be gone, Varian,” he mumbles, his voice choked with emotional torture. “She can’t – “
Another sob escapes him and I bring him into my chest for a proper hug. A proper grip on him as his tears continue rolling down his cheeks and onto my shoulder. I’m sure what he’s feeling right now is nearly unbearable.
Catching Thorne’s eye, I barely manage to get the words I need to say out.
“Get Castiel, now.”
I need someone else knowledgeable in these things. Someone who has traveled farther than I ever have. Who knows things I would never be able to learn.