Chapter 5 Callisto
CALLISTO
I know he isn’t telling me everything, but from the little he did say, I don’t think I want to know. How he talked about the location sent shivers up my spine.
I pull out the tin of coffee and place three scoops of grounds in the filter. I flick the switch on the side of the machine, the red light flickers on, and the machine roars to life.
Resting my elbows on the countertop, I run my fingers through my hair, staring out the window. I look out at my garden, wishing it wasn’t fall—taking my one source of solace from me.
“This is so fucked up,” I mutter.
Cade has been planning this for years, carefully strategizing the perfect attack plan, but now that it’s actually happening… I don’t like it. Right now, I’m more concerned about how this is going to affect him. You can’t do the things he’s talking about doing and walk away the same.
My brother has been through a lot… too much.
He was always training when I was little, and he always seemed so sad.
Or angry. I could never really read him.
To be honest, it was a huge surprise when he reacted the way he did after finding out what the Covenant had planned for me.
Our parents had done a good job isolating me from the world.
The only friend I ever had was Genevieve, if I could even call her that.
We played a lot when we were kids—she was kind to me.
That’s been a rarity to me throughout my life… kindness.
Finally, the robust scent of coffee fills the air, providing my senses with a much-needed, though temporary, relief. I grab my favorite mug from the cupboard—I need a spoon for the sugar, but of course I forgot to empty the dishwasher. When I turn back around my mug is… gone?
Hold on.
I rest my hand on the counter where the mug should have been, as if it would magically appear. Confusion twists my face as I look back and forth between the island and the counter. I give up, and open the cupboard to grab another. And there it is. My mouth drops open…
I grab it gingerly, carefully setting it down. Like it might explode. Or disappear again.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, adding one and a half spoonfuls of sugar and stirring carefully as I hold the handle tight to ensure it doesn’t get up and walk away.
Nothing.
I cautiously try a sip. Nothing.
My headache begins to quell with the hit of caffeine.
I genuinely don’t know how much longer I can take feeling like I’m constantly on edge. Just waiting for shit to happen. And now I’ve got a poltergeist. But why do I oddly find that comforting?
With a breathless laugh, I say, “If you’re going to do something, just get it over with.” And now I’m speaking to the air. It’s too quiet. I gasp, feeling a sense of contact along my collarbone.
A whisper. “Do I scare you?”
Yes.
“No,” I reply.
Cade and Jack are still upstairs going over their master plan—as if there is such a thing—while my demon surrounds me. I’m about to take my coffee back upstairs, ignore what is so clearly happening around me, when I hear:
“I should…”
In a blink every cabinet door flies open. I suck in a breath, heart pounding, as I stand there for a moment—wide-eyed and in shock—before rushing over and closing them one by one.
I grab my coffee and run to the library down the hall, slamming the door shut behind me. I place my back against it and hold my hot mug of coffee to my chest like a safety net.
I take a few deep breaths as I try to calm my pulse—feelings of dread sinking into my bones. I slide down the door, hands trembling, still gripping my cup, eyes shut tight.
I feel the floor begin to vibrate under me, the room closing in on me.
I hold my breath as blackness dances across my vision, limbs chilling as the vibration picks up, like an earthquake isolated to this one room.
There is a roaring. I’m convinced this is all in my mind… I need to control myself. Fuck.
As my heartbeat increases, I can feel the energy build, and then—it bursts out of me.
All I can do is keep my eyes shut, pray that I can hold it back. But the room is in chaos, thudding books flying off the shelves, falling to the floor.
Stop. I plead.
“Stop!” The scream rips out of me.
I feel a banging against my back, and my eyes jolt open as I gulp in deep breaths.
“Calli? What the hell is going on?” I hear Jack’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.
I look around the dark room, books littering the floor around me. I set my mug down and slowly stand. My face is wet from tears. I didn’t even know I was crying. I open the door slowly.
Jack looks both white as a sheet and ready to take on the world. When my eyes meet his, I’m met with concern.
“Are you okay? Calli, your nose is bleeding.” He runs back to the kitchen and returns with a washrag. He flicks the light on and begins wiping my nose. I grab it from him and back away.
Holding the rag to my nose, my shoulders droop. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what happened.”
He looks around the room, examining the mess, and walks over to me. He wraps me in a tight hug, and it only takes a moment before I sink into him. I’m still crying. My chest heaves as I let it all out.
“I’m… scared, Jack,” I say between breaths.
“Shh… It’s going to be okay,” he says, holding me tight as he gently cups my head with one hand, the other tenderly tracing circles on my back.
No. No, it won’t be okay. He would never believe me if I told him what happened. Neither of them would.
I’m in hell.
Trapped in this house, this cursed body, this life.
I’m losing whatever little of myself I had left.
The only word that comes to mind is despair.
My tears begin to ease as the familiar numbness washes over me.
I stand in his arms, staring at the wall behind him.
My nose burns from the blood still trickling into my sinuses.
How depressing. Who the fuck do I think I am? I’m lucky to be alive at this point, even if it means miserably going about my days without purpose. A broken thing, a ticking time bomb. Nausea bubbles in my gut. I despise self-pity—and this pathetic state I find myself in.
I keep falling, keep backpedaling—every step forward I take, my mind and body push me back three steps. I’m not alive. I’m surviving. Constantly waiting for the next bad thing. My arms are cold and heavy. The pain in my chest reverberates through my body.
Everything Cade is doing, whatever the fuck is haunting me, it’s petrifying, but even that takes a back seat to the overwhelming anxiety.
I barely eat, I can’t sleep without the nightmares waking me up.
I need to show them I can handle this. Even if it’s just to prove it to myself. I’m done wasting away.
I pull away from Jack. Accepting that there is nothing he can do. I’m on my own with this.
It is what it is.
“Are you gonna be okay?” His voice is almost stern, wanting a genuine response. “Should I be worried?”
“I’ll be okay. I’m sorry,” I say in a quiet voice. “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll clean this up in the morning.”
I walk away, leaving no room for a response.
When I make it to my room, I allow the weight of my body to sink into the mattress. I’m not okay, I’ve never been okay. But I will be.