28. Callan
CALLAN
Ihardly remember moving.
I hardly remember snatching her off the ground.
I hardly remember barking orders for people to move, but I do remember the music stopping like a record scratch, and I do remember the look on Gemma’s face when I bolted past her.
Fear. Gut-wrenching fear.
I clutch her tightly to my chest, and when I feel the fight wink out of Lucina’s lifeless body…
There is nothing in this whole world that could have prepared me for it.
No amount of death or violence, no amount of training or torture—nothing could have readied me to face the possibility of losing her.
I simply can’t.
Trees pass like white flags, begging me to surrender, but I run faster than I’ve ever moved in my entire life. Faster than the poison. I just have to be faster than the poison, but she has minutes. Maybe less.
The lights of the Infirmary blink through the trees. “Come on, Chaos,” I choke out, my lungs seizing. Her fingers grip the silver plating of my amulet, and that’s enough to shatter my heart into a million pieces. “Show me how you fight.”
I cut through the grass, doing my best to keep her head stabilized as I sprint down the shallow hill.
“You know I can’t do this without you,” I tell her, a knife twisting in my gut at the thought of her never hearing those words. “I need you. Gods, Lucina, I need you.”
I kick the door to the infirmary open so violently the hinges crack, then I’m rushing past all the nurses who shout after me, but I know exactly where they keep the antidotes, and I don’t have the time to explain.
“We’re almost there, Chaos, then you’re going to show me those eyes again, okay?”
In my head, I imagine her laughing, and the thought does nothing but rip me apart.
I hold her with one arm and throw my fist through the locked glass cabinet, turning my body to shield her from the shattered shards, then my trembling fingers rifle through all the small vials.
The black specks were a dead giveaway; it’s Ashvine, it has to be, I can’t afford to be wrong. I’ll never forgive myself if I’m wrong.
“Get me a bucket!” I shout at the nurses who followed me into the room, then I snatch the antidote. I rip off the lid, slump to the floor, and gather her into my lap.
“Okay, okay,” I breathe, adrenaline coursing through me so violently that I can hardly speak.
I dump the entire contents of the vial past the small gap between her near colorless lips, pouring every last drop down her throat.
I tilt her chin up, keeping her mouth shut until I’m certain she’s swallowed, then Gemma rounds the corner.
“Oh gods,” her voice breaks as she pushes past the crowd of nurses that have gathered. “Callan...”
I’m sure it’s quite the spectacle; me slumped against the shattered glass cabinet, pleading with Cin like she can hear me. “Show me those eyes, Chaos.”
Brutal, punishing seconds pass, and everyone in the room holds their breath.
When my eyes meet Gemma’s, an unholy level of fear passes between us both.
It’s not the same look I gave her when I climbed the Banyan.
Gods and I felt on top of the world a few hours ago.
This is the look that comes before grief.
This is the look that says—I won’t survive this.
All the warmth is sucked out of the room, and the space grows so cold that teeth begin to chatter.
“Come on, come on,” I beg, running my finger across her cheek, but she’s so cold. She’s ice fucking cold. “...please don’t break my heart.”
A sob rips from Gemma’s throat when Lucina’s eyes shoot open, and I drown in relief. Drown in those wide whiskey pools even as they fill with panic.
“Bucket!” I snap, grabbing a small bin that one of the nurses holds out for me, then I wrap Lucina’s mass of hair around my fist, right as she lurches forward, spilling everything into the metal tin.
All the moonshine, all the Ashvine. All of it.
“Good girl,” I exhale, rubbing her back with my free hand. “You’re okay.”
Lucina’s shoulders tremble as she heaves until there’s nothing left, then she slumps back down against my chest. Deathly silent. Her eyes flick up to me, then down to the way my chest heaves, watching as if she can sense the adrenaline coursing through my body.
“Lucina.” Gemma’s baby blue eyes are bloodshot, tears slipping down her cheeks as she rushes forward.
“Oh, my gods, are you okay?” There’s a flash of warm light as Gemma frantically runs Mender magic up Lucina’s arms and into her chest. It flares once, then fades.
“You’re okay,” she declares, and the breath that rushes out of me could move mountains.
A tear falls down Lucina’s cheek when Gemma lets her go, her skin still pale and her eyes still wide. My brows furrow when she opens her mouth, then shuts it. As if she’s afraid to speak or simply can’t.
“She’s probably in shock,” one of the nurses says, reading the confusion on my face, and Lucina swallows thickly as her gaze slides to the nurse. “We can keep you here overnight, if you’d like, make sure everything is out of your system.”
Lucina tenses up in my arms, shaking her head once.
Gemma and I look at each other, concern on my face and confusion on hers.
Something is wrong. She looks fucking terrified, and I can’t blame her, but Lucina Van Reenan isn’t timid, and she certainly isn’t quiet.
Even after I pulled her out of that fire, she had the capacity to make jokes, that’s how she copes with things that scare her, but this… this is different.
“That’s okay,” I tell her gently, pulling her wide-eyed attention. “You don’t have to stay here. Can I take you back with me?”
She nods. Once. Then her eyes well with tears.
I glance at Gemma, who still has no answers for me, but I don’t want Lucina to sense my panic. I don’t want to make any of this worse. “I’m going to pick you up, okay? Hold on for me.” I pull her arm around my shoulder, then I gather her to my chest and stand.
“I’ll come by first thing in the morning to check on you,” Gemma tells her, and Lucina nods. No words. She won’t speak.
My entire coven is waiting on the porch when I get home, and Lucina lifts her head when she sees them.
Pax, Hunter, Phoenix, Easton…and even Devon–they’re all tense and frozen to the spot.
She still hasn’t said a word, but there is something about the way they’re all waiting there that softens something in my chest.
Lucina’s eyes lift to mine, and I smile at the confusion in her stare. “I think they’re here for you,” I tell her, and her brows furrow, as if she doesn’t quite understand. “Do you want them to leave?”
She shakes her head, then she pulls her leg up, determined to stand. My arm falls away, and I gently set her to the ground, but I keep hold of her hand, lacing her fingers through my own. It takes her a second to find her footing, but then she’s climbing the porch steps, squeezing my hand as we go.
“Boss,” Devon says, and I turn my head towards him.
“Get me Fenton Thorneveil,” I reply with a certain edge to my voice that has all of their spines snapping straight. “I need him alive.” Then I reach over Lucina’s head and push the door open for her.
She stumbles silently into the living room, looking back to make sure I followed, as if I’d be anywhere else right now. Life has returned to her skin, but there is something about her that is missing. Maybe it’s her voice. Maybe that’s all it is.
The bedroom door creaks open, and the smallest hint of color blooms across her cheeks when she notices the sheets and how they’re all out of sorts from where I dragged her across them earlier.
But there is no witty comment, or taunting joke, and she would have made one.
She would have said something if she were the Lucina I came home to today, but instead she just slumps down on the edge of the mattress and reaches for her boots—
“Let me,” I blurt out, and her eyes snap up to mine.
She watches me curiously as I kneel before her, her gaze boring into the side of my face as I gently tug off her shoes, then her socks, and when I reach for the zipper of her dress, she doesn’t stop me.
I pull it down, and the fabric slides off her shoulders to pool at her waist.
She isn’t wearing anything under her dress, but I keep my eyes pinned on hers, tugging the material past her hips, and her skin litters in goosebumps.
“Stay here.” I fold the red fabric and stand, rifling through the top drawer of the dresser until I find the softest t-shirt I own. Her eyes are trained on me when I return, whole yet devastatingly vacant. “Arms up.”
She does as I say, finding her way through the arm holes until the grey fabric falls over her chest, bunching over the top of her thighs. I come to a crouch before her, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone bone and she ever so slightly leans into the touch.
“Say something. Please. Anything.”
Her eyes dart back and forth between my own. Then she pulls back the covers and takes hold of my hand. It’s hardly more than a whisper, but it might just be the best thing I’ve ever heard, “Stay.”
I’m unclipping my vest in an instant, sliding it off my shoulders until it hits the ground with a heavy thud. I unlace my boots and pull my t-shirt over my head, then I slip under the sheets she’s now wrapped in. We both exhale when I slide a hand across her waist and pull her flush to my chest.
If we could just stay like this, I might actually stand a chance in keeping her safe. I might finally be able to protect her.
Lucina laces her fingers through my own, gently brushing against the pad of my thumb while I press soft kisses into her shoulder. Everything about her feels small, as if the Ashvine shrunk that fire inside of her—as if it snuffed that light entirely.
“Lucina,” I breathe, and she hums to tell me she’s listening. “I’m going to have to kill him.”
I feel her lungs inflate against me, then they fall. “I know.”
“It won’t be painless.”
“I know,” she says again, her breaths coming out soft and even, and just when I think she’s fallen asleep, her voice cuts through the pitch black. “Callan?”
“Yes, baby,” I say instantly, folding my arm across the pillow, lightly running my fingers through her hair, and she twists until those big hazel eyes are peering up at me.
“I heard you,” she whispers. “I heard everything you said. I heard Gemma too.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, the corner of her lips tilting up ever so slightly.
“Well, I meant every word.” My fingers trace her jaw, drifting down to the pulse along her neck. Maybe nothing has ever been so simple. Maybe nothing has ever felt more like home than this—than her. “A world without you, Chaos, is a world I don’t want to live in. I think Gemma would agree.”
Those big eyes widen, then they catch fire, bright and hot and unyielding.
“There she is,” I say softly. “I thought I lost you for a second there.”
As quick as it came, it went, traces of fear tracking across her face, but it’s relieving to know she’s still in there…somewhere. She can have as much time as she needs, gods know I need it too, we’ve been through enough in the last few weeks to last a lifetime.
“One of these days,” Lucina murmurs, turning to rest her head back on the pillow, “I’m going to be the one to save you.”
I tug her closer, whispering softly into the dead of night, “We’re even, Cin, I promise we’re even.”