Chapter 29 Callisto
CALLISTO
“Calli! You need to come back!”
Alabaster’s voice slices through the dark like a blade. My vision blurs, body too heavy to hold upright, and I slump back into the mattress.
“I know where he is!” I gasp, trying to stand—only for my legs to buckle, the room spinning. Alabaster catches me before I hit the floor.
“Easy,” he murmurs, cradling me to his chest. “You’re bleeding.”
It’s the way he says it—gentle, careful.
My eyes sting, my face wet. I glance toward the mirror and freeze.
My nose. My eyes. Blood streaks down my cheeks like tears in a horror film.
“What is this?” I ask, voice trembling with a hand frozen halfway to my face.
“You pushed too hard, stayed too long. Magic always takes its toll,” he tells me, his own voice steady. “Your body wasn’t built for what you just did.”
I groan, resting my head against his shoulder. Karma comes up, rubbing against my side. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you have limits.” He says it too gently, like I’ll break if he raises his voice. Then he looks down adoringly at Karma. “She really was worried.”
I look up at him, narrowing my eyes.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m fragile. I’m fine,” I snap, lifting a shaky hand to wipe at my cheek, my free hand caressing Karma’s soft fur.
He doesn’t flinch at my tone, his golden eyes steady on my face.
“No, that you are not.” His tone stays flat, but there’s softness buried beneath it. “Just take it easy, pretty girl.”
He carefully leans me back against the headboard and leaves the room for a moment. I hear the water turn on and off again, and he comes back in with a wet hand towel. Then, without asking, he starts gently cleaning my face.
“I’m not a baby,” I grumble as he wipes away the blood with soft, even strokes.
“Shut up,” he replies sweetly—brushing me off like I didn’t just almost die.
My thoughts spiral—images I can’t unsee clawing their way to the surface as he cares for me.
Genni.
She’s a witch… and they have her.
She was the closest thing I ever had to a real friend… The realization that she’s trapped—suffering in a place far worse than this—splits something open in me. Then Cade flashes behind my eyes. His pain. The sound of him.
The way his voice cracked. The look in his eyes.
The smell.
Gods—the smell of his burning flesh.
It punches me in the gut so hard I double over, knocking Alabaster’s hand away from my face. Karma scurries out of the room.
Crack.
The memory of bones breaking echoes in my skull and my body convulses. I lurch forward, heaving onto the carpet.
“We have to get them out,” I gasp as bile and drool slides from my lips, hanging off my chin like strings of guilt, tears welling in my eyes.
Panic flares in my chest like fire—wild and out of control.
I can’t sit still. I can’t wait.
I shove out of Alabaster’s arms, shaking and unsteady but driven by something feral.
“I need Jack.”
I stumble toward the doorway—my legs aren’t ready, but I make them work. Weakness be damned. If Cade can be strong, so can I.
I don’t stop until I’m downstairs, clinging to the railing, knees trembling. The door creaks open under my hand as I spill out onto the porch—barefoot, breathless, and still bloody—to find Jack with his back to me, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling around him like fog.
“Not now, Calli,” he mutters, voice low and worn, defeat clinging to his body.
“I know where Cade is,” I tell him, my voice barely holding together. My chest is rising too fast, and I force my breaths to slow.
He spins around, shock wide in his eyes as the cigarette slips from his hand and dies on the wood.
Jack doesn’t ask questions. He just ushers me into the living room, steady hands guiding me to the couch. I sink down, still trembling, and he drops beside me with his laptop in his lap, already in motion.
Tabs spring open, one after another—maps, traffic cams, databases I don’t recognize.
“I tracked him on the freeway,” he tells me absently, eyes scanning fast. “Caught a few glimpses near the 101—but I lost him just outside L.A. I know the general direction, but nothing concrete.”
“He’s in Topanga Canyon,” I say, my voice firm, surprising even myself. “Rosa’s main house. That’s where they’re holding him.”
He freezes, fingers hovering over the keyboard before I can see him mentally shrugging.
He begins hammering down on the keys again, faster this time.
More tabs. More frantic clicks. His mouth parts slightly when he pulls up an old photo, then cross-references another—his pupils flicking back and forth.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes, shock in his voice. “You’re right. If I match Rosa’s tagged location history with this address… It’s the same house. It’s right there, hiding in plain sight.” He laughs, looking over at me. “How the hell do you know this?”
I hesitate, my fingers twisting in my lap.
“I saw him,” I say softly.
Everything in him stills and I flinch.
Recognition flickers behind his eyes, the kind that carries weight. Fear, maybe. Or awe. Or both. I can see him holding back—deciding whether to ask the question forming in his throat.
“Is he…” Jack swallows hard. “Is he okay?”
The question settles something in me, knowing that he’s at least trying to accept this. It’s the answer that breaks me.
My throat closes, and tears rise before I can stop them. My head shakes slowly, and I try to breathe through the pain of it—but I can’t. The moment he asked… It made it real.
Made it too much.
Jack shuts the laptop and turns to face me fully, his hand finding my shoulder, grounding me with slow, steady pressure.
“He’s alive, though,” he states. Not as a question. As a tether.
I nod, barely. “Yes.”
His expression softens, and he reaches up and brushes my hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers still when he sees the blood, swiping a thumb across my temple.
“Is that… is that blood?” His voice tightens, his eyes dancing over my face in that clinical way of his. “Christ, Calli, are you okay?”
“No,” I confess in a whisper. My voice cracks, and I can’t hold it back anymore. The comfort—the kindness—undoes me.
The sob hits before I can brace for it. My chest caves, body trembling as hot tears stream down my face.
Jack pulls me into him. Strong arms wrap around me, and I let myself fall apart against him, sobbing into his chest.
“Hey… hey,” he whispers, holding me tight, rocking me slowly. “It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna get him back. I promise.”
He pulls back, cupping my face and forcing me to meet his eyes. There’s no room for doubt in his voice when he says, “I’m going to get him out.”
“You won’t need to,” I say, my breath still shaky, my fingers curling around his wrists. “That man—Benjamin. He wants to save someone. A girl. I think he loves her. But he needs Cade to do it.”
Jack’s jaw ticks, his eyes narrowing. “We can’t rely on that.”
“I know her—knew her,” I say, my voice low and almost pleading. “Genni. We played together when we were kids. We can trust her—at least enough to count on her wanting out. She wants to help Cade. She has to. She’s stuck there, same as he is. Same as I would’ve been.”
Jack doesn’t hesitate, already on his feet, storming off toward his room. “Then I’m going to go get them.”
“No—Jack, wait. You have no id—” I surge to my feet, panic at the thought of losing him sending me stumbling after him.
He whirls around, jaw clenched. “No, Calli. You don’t get to keep secrets from me, then turn around and tell me what I can’t do.”
I flinch at the heat in his voice, the betrayal there.
“This whole time,” he spits, shaking his head in disgust, “you’ve been pissed that we kept you in the dark. But you’ve been doing the same damn thing.”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me,” I say, exasperated, throwing my hands in the air.
“I barely believed it myself most days. And I only just started learning how to control it. I still don’t know what I’m capable of.
” I plead with him to understand as I trail him to his room, hovering in the doorway.
He grunts sharply, dragging a duffel from under the bed and shoving random clothes inside like he’s on autopilot, his frustration and anger bleeding into every movement.
“Fine. Whatever. I hear you,” he snaps back to me as he rummages through his bedside table. “But I’m still going. I’m not leaving this up to that asshole. I saw what he’s capable of—your little possession trick fried my PC, but I saw enough of Benjamin’s files to know he’s not safe.”
I move to him, placing my hands over his to stop the frantic packing, gently squeezing them.
“Then let me help you,” I say, voice steady this time, my eyes catching his.
He blinks at me.
“What are you thinking?”
I exhale and sit down on the edge of his bed, pulling him down with me.
“I’ll tell you everything I know, I promise.” And I do. I give him everything I know: Genni’s a witch. She plans to heal Cade. Ben’s involvement—maybe for love, maybe survival. Frank’s a brute. Rosa’s the one in charge.
The only thing I leave out is the ghost.
Some part of me feels like I’m not supposed to know. Like I’ve been let in on a secret that was meant only for Cade.
Jack sits quietly, absorbing all of the new information with quiet resolve. When he finally speaks, his voice is low. “Cade asked me to research how to kill a God. I thought it was just part of the game he plays—one of his weird power fantasies.” He looks up at me, eyes serious. “What’s its name?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, unable to hold his gaze, guilt heavy in my chest. “I got pulled out before I could hear it.”
“Can you go back to him?” he asks, calculating.
“No.” I shake my head, lower lip trembling. “It was too much. I barely made it out. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t push, taking my hands in his again. “Don’t apologize. I don’t know anything about magic or spirits or whatever the hell this is, but that was brave, what you did. That couldn’t have been easy.”
I stare at the back wall, trying not to cry again. “No,” I whisper. “It wasn’t.”