Chapter 22 #2
“You’re nothing more than a faceless voice. Why would I be scared of that?” Something heavy crashes to the ground behind us. I refuse to acknowledge what it is. “If you were powerful and ancient, you wouldn’t be hiding in the attic of a boys’ school.”
A heartbeat later, a man is standing in front of me.
He’s wearing a loose-fitting shirt with puffy sleeves, a pair of skin-tight pants, and knee-high boots.
He sniffs the air in front of me with a wicked smile.
“Chamberlin’s child.” He bows his head. “Welcome.” He sweeps his hand through the air graciously.
“It’s not much to brag on,” I answer, hoping to hide the terror behind my words. “Callum O’Brien?” I already know the answer.
“At your service.” He looks behind me, as if he’s looking for someone. “Where is your father?”
I scoff. “If you mean Harrison, your guess is as good as mine. He’s been sort of an absent father.”
Callum’s deep laugh surprises me. “You amuse me. That’s rare.” Curly red hair and bright blue eyes are not what I pictured when I thought about the man whose wrath makes Harrison Chamberlin nervous. He looks more like a leprechaun than an ancient vampire. Oh, my God. Are leprechauns real?
“Where’s Cyrus?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know who Cyrus is.”
“With all due respect…you’re lying.”
Callum smiles, moving closer. “Not only are you beautiful, but you’re also quite brave.” Or dumb repeats through my mind. He steps even closer, bringing deep growls from behind me. Callum turns his attention toward the wolves. “You brought dogs, I see.”
I refuse to take his bait, ignoring his jab at my friends. “We’re here for Cyrus.”
Callum stands straighter. “I believe you mentioned that.” He looks me in the eyes. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“For me.”
Deep lines form as he smiles, highlighting an action that’s been repeated many times before.
“As lovely as you are, my dear, you are not what brought me to this godforsaken land.” He dramatically wipes his hands on his waistcoat as if they’re covered in filth.
“The humans here are so…” he clears his throat, stopping his sentence midway through.
“No,” he continues. “Other than your delightful company, I’m here for someone far more powerful and intriguing.
” Callum turns his back toward us, peering through an old window overlooking the street below.
“Someone whose powers are far more than I’ve experienced before.
Someone with powers that are highly… desirable.
” A name whispers through my mind…Terrin.
He turns quickly, almost as if he heard my thought.
“Whoever they are, they sound pretty amazing. I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I lie.
One side of Callum’s mouth lifts higher than the other. “Is that so?” Abandoning the window, he resumes his spot from earlier. “One thing antiquity gives you, other than fine woodwork and artistic talent, is the ability to see through lies.” He sniffs the air, reminding me of Simon. “He’s nearby.”
“Who?” I continue my facade.
“The boy,” he answers. “The one I’m seeking.”
“The school is filled with boys. To be honest, that’s a little creepy.” Why am I antagonizing the ancient vampire?
The smile leaves his face. “Do not mistake my hospitality for acceptance. I could take the life of you, along with your dogs, before you noticed any movement.” Seconds later, he’s behind Stella, with an arm wrapped around her neck.
She yelps in response as Gideon leaps toward the vampire.
Before he makes contact with Callum, he’s thrown to the side, knocking him into the brick walls of the attic.
Simon is clearly torn between protecting his sister or his father.
He moves closer to Callum, growling a pointless warning.
“Okay,” I answer, hoping to diffuse the situation. “You’ve made your point. Let her go.”
Callum follows instructions, releasing his hold on Simon’s sister. “Bring me the boy, and you can have your precious Cyrus.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” I retort. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Without remorse, Callum has Stella back in his arms, slicing a nail through the lycans throat.
Blood pours from the wound as I stare in disbelief, not sure if I’m seeing reality or if my mind is playing tricks on me.
Her eyes are wide as she realizes what’s happened.
She shifts into human form, collapsing to the floor in a pool of blood.
Gideon and Simon leap toward the ancient vampire in unison. Callum swipes the giant wolves aside, like they’re nothing more than flies at a picnic. Dread fills me as reality sinks in. We’re all going to die.
I stare at the spectacle in front of me in disbelief. Simon and Gideon shift back into human form as soon as they hit the brick wall. All three lycan are unconscious on the wooden floors. I hear three heartbeats, telling me they’re alive.
“Shall we try again?” Callum says with a sickening smile. “The boy is close. Bring him to me.” He kneels next to Stella, licking her blood from the floor. “The lycan are still alive. They won’t stay that way long.”
My brain reels through all possible scenarios to end this situation. None of which work. “I need help,” I whisper.
Callum smiles. “I have just the woman.” He claps his hands grandly, and a woman steps from the shadows. The moment she comes into view, her energy rushes me. Aurora. What the actual fuck?
“I don’t need her help,” I spew.
“I’m afraid she’ll have to do,” Callum retorts. He looks around the attic, taking a needless breath. “This was once filled with young female vampires much like yourself. I secured their passage from France myself.”
Girls? History and reality collide at the realization that he’s talking about the casket girls. Young women brought from France in the 16th century to marry French settlers. “Oh, my God. You were a casket girl?” I ask Aurora.
Aurora laughs. “You’re not the smartest, are you?
I’m much too old to be a casket girl.” She moves closer to Callum.
“No, dear. I am not a casket girl. However, I helped Callum with his quest.” She scoffs.
“The name Casket Girl was always so absurd. They were nothing more than suitcases,” she answers. “Humans and their half-truths.”
“The legend is true?” I ask, feeling more human than vampire.
“Of course,” Callum answers. “Most legends stem from a bit of reality.” He reaches his arm toward Aurora, and she moves toward him quickly.
“Hello, Father,” she says, bowing her head slightly.
Placing his finger under her chin, he lifts her eyes even with his. “Hello, my child.”
“Callum was your maker?” I ask, stating the obvious.
“I made them all,” he answers. “Rescued from a life of poverty and abuse, they were my gift to the city of New Orleans. To America, really.” He pauses. “It’s what I do…rescue the innocent and offer them an eternity.”
“He has Cyrus,” I announce, hoping to break through the trance Callum holds over Aurora.
“I am aware,” she answers with a shrug. “Cyrus is one of many. Everyone dies.”
“You are a bitch.”
Her laugh fills the room once more as long fingers cover her heart. “Oh, how you wound me.”
“Find the boy,” Callum reminds. He pulls an antique watch from his waistcoat. “Tick-tock…time is wasting.” My stomach curls as he licks a smear of Stella’s blood from his finger dramatically. “You have until the lycan awaken to bring him to me.”