Chapter 2 Callisto
CALLISTO
I jolt awake from a dead sleep, drenched in sweat. The memory of the towering black mass, the image of its golden eyes and massive horns, is burned into my mind. My heart pounds as I scan the room, moonlight filtering in through the curtains. It’s quiet… too quiet.
The witching hour.
Again.
The same dream every night for over a week now…
“My little witch. Are you here to come again?” I whimper at the contact, sharp fangs grazing against my collarbone.
“Please.” I can feel his low rumble as I look up at him, my demon.
“You always beg so pretty. Now open your legs for me.” I do, Gods I do. The covers shift as I do what he asks, strong, thick fingers dragging over my core. Teasing as his claws slowly trail up to my breasts, one thumb brushing my nipple until it hardens under his touch.
“Always so responsive for me,” he breathes, so low, I almost don’t catch it. Like he is in awe of how I melt for him, crave him. The smell of amber and earth consumes me. Warm, grounding, ancient. Like freedom. Like stepping into a world I’ve never known…
My thighs press together at the memory. “Guess I’m up now,” I mutter, sighing as I push the covers aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. A strange heaviness lingers in the air, an unsettling feeling like something is watching me. I can feel him, my monster of sorts.
From the moment I found that pendulum, I can’t shake the presence it has left behind.
The way it just appeared one day sends a chill up my spine.
At first, it felt gentle and almost comforting.
But then… The darkness I felt was overwhelming, as if it would consume me if I let it.
I prayed that whatever I called didn’t open the door to something else… Something more dangerous.
I’m still new to this. I’ve always been aware of my magic, but haven’t a damn clue how to control it.
That was the last thing my parents wanted me to learn, lest I use it against them, but not knowing leaves me dangerous.
It breaks through when my emotions are high and grows stronger by the day, showing me visions in my dreams I can’t escape.
I have no idea what this power is capable of or how to use it.
Giving the pendulum to Cade was the right call.
It vibrates with magic—that even he shouldn’t be able to deny.
He needs to know what’s out there, to feel what our eyes can’t see.
I am convinced that whatever came through the veil will do just that, both for him and for me.
I just wish these nightmares would ease up.
I rub my eyes and lift myself off the bed.
My body is heavy and sore from the poor night’s sleep.
I head to the bathroom and turn on the faucet to draw a bath.
Sweat-damp leggings cling to my skin, and I shiver as I peel them off…
Gross. I grab my favorite bath salts and sprinkle them into the steaming water, hoping the heat will wash away the lingering unease.
The lights flicker—once, twice—accompanied by a faint buzzing that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
I freeze. It’s not me. I can tell when it is.
“What the fuck?” My voice is barely a whisper. It’s just a faulty wire. Nothing to worry about.
Wrapping a towel around myself, I scan the bathroom, pulse pounding in my ears. Something caresses my shoulder, almost like a breath that pebbles goose bumps over my skin.
No… Not me.
“Who’s here?” I call out, trying to sound braver than I feel. Earthy tones fill my senses—the scent from my dreams.
Heat blooms over my skin, and it isn’t from the steam.
My chest tightens, the air feeling thick and heavy.
I close my eyes for just a second and an image flashes in my mind: a towering black mass looming in a corner.
It appears to move, almost as if it’s pointing to me, when I hear an eerie whisper—
“Mine.”
My eyes snap open, gaze darting to the corner. Nothing’s there.
I bolt from the bathroom, my bare feet padding against the cool hardwood as I rush toward the kitchen. The sensation of something right behind me fuels me to move faster. My heart hammers as I turn the corner—and slam into a solid body.
I scream, the sound ripped from my throat, my heart slamming against my ribs.
“Shit, Calli! It’s just me,” Jack says, gripping my arms to steady me.
“Damn it, Jack!” I snap, trying to catch my breath. “You scared the hell out of me.”
He raises his hands in apology. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep…”
I flick the kitchen light on, and as his voice trails off, his gaze drops to the towel clinging to my body.
“Next time, turn on a light if you’re up,” I scold, brushing past him to grab a glass from the cabinet. “Unless you want to give someone a heart attack.”
“Yeah, right. Got it,” he mumbles, eyes darting anywhere but at me.
I fill the glass at the sink, gulping down the cool water in an attempt to calm the heat still crawling over my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him sneaking glances, but he does that with any woman with a pulse, a hopeless flirt. Something I easily fell for when we were young.
We don’t talk about it, knowing Cade would murder Jack if he ever found out I lost my virginity to him when we were teenagers.
We were isolated, bored, and left alone.
And I wanted to know what it felt like to be the center of someone’s attention.
Jack was more than willing to provide that attention.
Though I know he wouldn’t do anything now.
We have evolved. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend, and both of us decided it was better this way—friends.
“Cade will be back later this afternoon,” he says, breaking the silence.
“For how long?” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be, but Jack just shrugs.
“Not long. I found Allen White. He’s not going to miss his chance to get to him.”
My stomach twists. I get why Cade is doing this, but that doesn’t make it any easier. The Covenant is no joke—they have a literal God on their side. I haven’t seen it myself, but my parents did. And for all their neglect, they never lied to me.
I drift back to the night Cade found out I was meant to be sacrificed. Deep down, I had always known, and I had accepted it. But not Cade—he refused.
His rage was explosive.
Our parents said I should feel honored, like I had been chosen for some grand purpose, but Cade didn’t buy their bullshit. Ever since, he’s been obsessed with tearing the Covenant apart, but he doesn’t understand the supernatural side of it. He has no clue what he’s really up against.
“I’m worried about him, Jack,” I admit quietly.
“Don’t be,” Jack says, leaning against the counter with a confident smirk. “If anyone can take down the Covenant, it’s Cade. Your brother’s a badass.”
He isn’t wrong. They trained him in hand-to-hand combat, made him a person capable of tracking, hunting, and capturing people.
They had unknowingly built the perfect weapon against them.
Cade never trusted our parents—and he never stopped protecting me.
In his own fucked-up way, he’s the only one who’s ever really had my back.
Though for many years I didn’t realize it.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I say, setting my empty glass in the sink. I turn and start back toward the bathroom, but Jack catches my arm before I reach the hallway. His deep blue eyes burn into mine, an attempt to calm me.
“Trust him, Calli. We know what we’re doing,” he says, his voice steady. I lift an eyebrow at him but nod.
His mouth curls into a teasing smile. “By the way, what the hell are you doing walking around in a towel at three in the morning?”
I roll my eyes. “None of your business,” I snap, but after a beat, I sigh, his hold still firm on my arm. “Fine. I had a bad dream and woke up sweating. I felt gross and needed a bath.”
“Need any help with that?” he jokes, his eyes glinting with mischief.
I glare at him, about to fire back, when I see the cabinet behind him swing open. A glass flies out, hurtling across the room. The sharp sound of it breaking shatters the moment.
“Shit! Calli, get back!” Jack moves between me and the mess, and I step away from the scattered shards. My breath catches as I attempt to put logic to what I just saw.
He kneels to clean it up. “Go on,” he says without looking up. “I’ve got this.”
That wasn’t me. I know that wasn’t me. My feet stay rooted for a moment too long—any doubts in my mind have been quelled; this is full confirmation to me.
I’m being haunted. My eyes dart around the room, trying to see whatever is clearly trying to get my attention, but I find nothing.
Gripping my towel to my chest, I back away.
I’m used to weird shit, but this is ridiculous.
Just my luck.
I head back to the bathroom, only to find water spilling over the edge of the tub, soaking the floor.
“Fuuuuuuuck.”
After spending twenty minutes cleaning up the massive mess I made, I give up on the bath and opt for a shower instead. I attempt to wash away the lingering unease under the hot water, to get myself to feel a little more human.
Freshly dressed and somewhat calmer, I settle onto the living room couch with my favorite book, Death, the last book in the Four Horsemen series.
I flip it open, hoping to lose myself in the words—but after reading the same sentence four times, I drop it in my lap, frustrated.
This sucks. Of course I would attract a fucking poltergeist. I’ve done nothing my entire life.
No job. No purpose. No luck. Just existing in the background.
Easy to overlook.
My only redeeming quality is my dreams. They have always held weight—flashes of things before they happen, like a twisted form of déjà vu. I’ve always been able to sense when something is coming, like a strong gut instinct. Maybe not the best judgment… But it’s always given me a sense of pride.
And right now? My gut is screaming that something is here.
Setting my book aside, I head back to my bedroom and pull open the top drawer of my nightstand. My fingers brush against the cracked leather of the old grimoire. One of the many artifacts my brother took after we left the house where everything fell apart.
I sit down on the bed, my heart pounding. I take a steadying breath before opening the book at random, the pages crackling beneath my fingertips as they settle on a section about demons. Thinking back to my dream, my stomach twists.
Oh, hell no.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Snapping the book shut, I press my palm flat against the cover.
I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I sure as hell know a red flag when I see one. Maybe I can ignore it. If I don’t feed into it, then it will get bored. Because unequivocally: Fuck. That.
“I do not claim any bad energy. You hear me?” My voice is firm, but there’s a tremor beneath the surface I can’t quite hide.
Silence.
Not even the hum of the fridge or the distant tick of the hallway clock. A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I push myself upright. Soft golden light spills through the window. Morning already. I could really use some breakfast.
I tuck the grimoire back into its hiding place and head toward the kitchen.
A sudden creak breaks the silence, the sound crawling up my spine like cold fingers.
The air thickens and my heart pounds as I turn to find the drawer cracked, grimoire lying open again…
this time on the section about a demon named Alabaster.
I linger on the image for a moment, stuck on his eyes—his golden eyes.