Calliope
Rain pours down my face as I stare at the wall at the end of the street.
I didn’t know where else to go. What to do. But I knew I needed answers. Answers I didn’t think anyone else could give me. So I went back to the scene of the crime. The street along the train tracks.
Where I saw something so many years ago.
I tried. I tried to ask questions.
I called Hadley who didn’t answer. I expected that. So I left a text. Simple really.
I know everything.
Then I called Calypso with a code black, she never even answered me. Not gonna lie it stung like hell.
I turned my phone off after that and left it at my parents’.
The little notebook sits nestled under my shirt in my waistband. Protected from the rain.
It’s old. And in Lazarus’s handwriting.
I know I’m barely hanging on to reality. And every step I have to remind myself this is real.
The sewer grate Calypso puked into is much the same. Though now water swirls down it as lightning zigzags across the sky and thunder rumbles overhead.
A few streetlights flicker then die.
All I can do is stare at that damn wall.
It’s much the same as it was all those years ago. The chair is still there, barely held up anymore. One leg missing. And because I know nothing about vampires, I rush over trying not to slip in the rain and break off the other leg.
It’s a great weapon, right?
Would it kill a vampire?
Do I even want to kill a vampire?
All my life I thought I imagined that moment. Well I didn’t at the beginning. At the beginning I knew with everything in me that it was real. Everyone else told me it wasn’t, that I was crazy, seeing things.
It was all true.
I know logically I should feel happiness that everything I believed was real. Hell maybe a little vindication at the very least. I don’t feel any of that. All I feel is a deep ache inside of me that has no name. It’s a simmer pot full of emotions I buried for sixteen years.
Half my life. Half of it.
My eyes flutter closed as tears threaten to mix with the rain.
“No.” I swipe them away and grip a slat and tug. “I refuse.” I pull harder breaking a piece of it off. “No one gets to conduct my life but me.” I pull another off and chuck it down the street. “No one.” I rip another off.
A hole Callie-sized opens before me. One leg then two and I’m through.
It’s much the same, another street. Lights out.
But on this side of the street the air feels more electric, and it has nothing to do with the storm.
There’s a small sitting area, a few wooden chairs, a rusted folding table, and even a television ruined by the elements.
Row homes line the street all the way until the train track curves, and I can’t see it anymore.
It’s just another street in Philadelphia.
Except it isn’t. It’s where my entire world changed, where one night twisted my life and created the human I am now.
And they all lied to me. Every person in my life lied to me and let me down. I spent years in therapy convincing myself that people are just people. They say awful things, they sometimes see things that aren’t there. They just are. I convinced myself that I was the problem.
And that’s what feels the most crushing as I weave through all the random street accessories. That I felt I was the problem. Not anyone else around me but I was the problem for speaking up, for saying too fucking much, for just existing in a world where everyone around me demanded I fucking shrink.
It was never me.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I yelp and spin toward the voice. A large figure stands leaning against a dark light pole. I can’t see much past the rain. Just the jean jacket, dark pants and glowing eyes.
I swallow my fear and take a step closer to him.
“Can’t you hear?” He lets out a low chuckle. “Girl like you shouldn’t be out here.”
“Why?” I ask past my fear.
“You’re a bride. And I think you know what that means now?” He pushes off the wall. “Don’t you, Calliope?”
I wish the moon would twist past the clouds to shine down on his face and tell me just who this man is.
No not a man.
“Are you—” I can’t say the word, but I force it out anyway. “A vampire?”
He laughs again. This time with a thread of impatience. And then suddenly he’s there before me. Standing over me like an avenging angel who holds answers I’ve so desperately sought for years.
“I know you,” I whisper, his face registering now that it’s closer. “Otto.”
“Good girl.” His lips twist and his dimples pop out. He’d be cute if he didn’t ooze fuck off or I’ll rip your neck out vibes. “You ran from me once.”
“Calypso,” I whisper. She ran and though she lied to me I still feel that pull of her opinion. And she didn’t have a good one of this man. Vampire. “She lied.”
She knew. That is the only answer I can find in this dark place. She knew. All this time otherwise why the fuck would she shove me into a tight vent and have me crawl out of a bar.
She. Knew.
I can’t close my eyes against the pain even as the burn of her betrayal makes me want to vomit. Her. Her of all fucking people should have known to at least tell me the fucking truth.
Now I don’t know if I can trust anyone. They all purposely left me in the dark. Left me to fend for myself. Left me to figure things out on my own.
“So what if they did?” Otto’s voice drops low, almost intimate despite the rain drumming around us. “They’re all liars, aren’t they? Calypso, your family, your friends. Every single one of them. Even that bride friend of yours that took off.”
“Hadley?” I choke on her name.
“Oh yeah the biggest liar of them all.” He laughs finding the pain sweeping through me amusing. He’s amused.
“And you’re not?” I take a step back, my hand instinctively reaching for the chair leg tucked in my waistband. “A liar?”
His smile widens, revealing teeth that seem just slightly too sharp. “I’ve never pretended to be anything I’m not. Can they say the same?”
Lightning flashes, illuminating his face for a split second. Those eyes don’t just glow but feel ancient, seeing right through me. My heart hammers against my ribs.
“Why are you here?” I ask, forcing steadiness into my voice that I don’t feel.
“Because you’re interesting.” He circles me slowly, like a predator assessing prey. “Most humans in your position would be hiding under their beds, not breaking into forbidden territories.”
I turn with him, keeping him in my sight. “I’m done hiding.”
“Good.” He stops directly behind me, his breath cold against my neck. “Because hiding doesn’t keep you alive. Knowing does.”
I spin around, nearly colliding with him. “Then tell me what I need to know. Is it real? Is all of this real?”
Otto laughs, the sound echoing unnaturally through the empty street. “So many questions. But knowledge comes at a price.”
“I don’t have money—”
“Not money.” His finger traces my jawline. I want to pull away but I hold as still as possible. “You going to run again, little girl?”
“So what if I ran from you?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my throat. “Maybe I was right to.”
Otto’s eyes flash, something predatory glinting in them. The finger at my jaw turns scraping. Stinging until the scent of iron bleeds into the air.
“Maybe,” he agrees, pulling his hand back. There’s blood on his nail, my blood and he stares at it while he speaks. “Or maybe you were running from the wrong thing.”
He smells the blood off the nail, closing his eyes and savoring it without ever tasting it.
The rain continues to pour down, soaking through my clothes, but I barely feel it. My attention is fixed on the vampire before me, every instinct screaming to flee while something deeper whispers to stay.
“Calypso said—”
“Calypso,” he interrupts with a dismissive wave as he backs away and paces around me. “Has her own agenda. They all do.” He stops in front of me again. “But you know that now, don’t you? About how everyone lies? How they all lied to you, sweet, sweet Calliope.”
The chair leg in my hand feels suddenly useless, a child’s toy against whatever this creature is. I tighten my grip anyway.
“Why are you here?” I ask. “Why now?”
Lightning strikes somewhere nearby, illuminating his face for a split second. In that moment, I see something that looks almost like... concern?
“Because you’re asking the right questions finally,” he says. “And because time is running out.”
“For what?”
“For you, little bride.” His thumb traces my jawline. “You’re unclaimed. You’ve had a coven from House Dagon circling you for months. Protecting you for years and here you are, wandering around a territory that belongs to another.”
Did I just fuck up? Did I wander somewhere I don’t belong? Somewhere Lazarus cannot save me.
I’m here now. May as well make it count for something.
“And you aren’t House Dagon?” I swallow recalling the story of Sophia and her sons.
Dagon. Asmodeus. Nergal. Crowley.
“No,” he states simply. “Different house.”
“Why are you here?”
“So curious, aren’t you.” He scrapes my skin again, stealing drops of my blood. Blood he only scents but never tastes.
“Is that the cost for answers?” I rip my face away. “Drops of my blood.”
“Are you offering.”
“The unwilling,” I whisper. “You can’t drink from me.”
“Like I said, information comes with a price and I’m hungry, little bride.” He grips my chin then.
“Why are you here?” I ask again. “Why did you approach me in that bar?”
“I came to claim a debt.” He leans in sniffing my neck. “And maybe because I’m not the kind of guy who likes liars and though you aren’t mine, I still believe you deserve answers.”
“A villain with a conscience.”
“No villain.” He shakes his head sadly. “Not anymore.” He drops his hand. “Dot. I’m here because of Dot.”
“Vex’s sister.” I frown partially terrified, partially curious. Though I always had the worst case of curiosity. It lands me in situations not meant for me. Not made for me.
“My Dot.” There’s this sadness that draws his face down. I’ve never seen anyone frown with their entire face before, and somehow, he pulls it off.
“Vex said she overdosed.” I focus on his eyes, on the complete sadness there.