Chapter 8
The doorbell rang just as the storm reached its peak, the sound cutting through the drumming of rain and the low rumble of thunder in the distance.
I’d been sitting in the living room for the past ten minutes, waiting for Caleb to arrive, though it had felt a lot less like waiting and more like an ambush.
Dominic had positioned himself near the fireplace, his posture doing its best impression of relaxed as Trace sat on the arm of the sofa, close enough to me that his presence was a constant, reassuring hum at my side.
Neither one of us had said very much. There wasn’t anything left to say that we hadn’t already turned over from every possible angle.
All that remained now was to hear what Caleb had to say for himself—and pray to God it was the truth and that the guys believed him.
I heard Gabriel’s footsteps in the hallway followed by the creak of the front door opening.
Voices carried through the house, muffled by the distance and the pattering of rain outside the windows, but I recognized Caleb’s easy tone immediately as he made small talk with Gabriel.
That smooth, laid-back confidence of his, like the world had never once pushed back on him for anything.
A moment later, he stalked into the living room with Gabriel close behind him. His desert-colored eyes moved across the space, touching on each of us in turn as a cocky grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.
My stomach dropped a little at the sight of it.
“I got here as fast as I could,” he said, brushing water from his shoulders. “The roads are a mess with this storm. You’d think people around here would be used to it by now.” His gaze found mine, and the smile softened. “What’s up, Blackburn. You okay?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed roughly as though a piece of cotton had lodged itself in my throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” He cocked his head and studied me. “You look like you’re about to cry or something.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Dominic spoke first.
“Leave us, brother. We’ll take it from here.”
Gabriel stared back at Dominic for a brief moment, his jaw tightening as a hint of unease moved through his expression.
He’d seemed firmly on board earlier, but the reality of what was actually about to unfold appeared to be sitting differently with him now.
If he’d changed his mind though, he didn’t move to stop it.
After a tense beat, he gave a single, clipped nod and then stepped back and left the room without another word, his footsteps receding down the hall.
Caleb’s smile faltered. His attention shifted from me to Dominic, then to Trace, reading the room the way all Descendants had been trained to do. “What’s going on?”
“That’s precisely what we’d like to know.” Dominic’s voice was calm, conversational even, but there was an edge beneath it that made my stomach pinch with worry.
“I don’t—” Caleb started, but Trace cut him off.
“When was the last time you checked the wards?” he asked without preamble.
“I don’t know. A few days ago. Why?” Caleb frowned, confusion furrowing his brows.
“And?” pressed Trace, ignoring the question entirely.
“And nothing.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re holding fine. No breaches or weak points. I would’ve told you if there were.”
“And yet somehow the Order still managed to get through them. How very curious,” said Dominic, the corner of his mouth lifting as though he found it comical, but the dark glint in his eyes said he was anything but amused.
“That’s not possible,” said Caleb, shaking his head as though the very notion were absurd. “I layered those wards six deep. What’s this really about?”
I watched his face, looking for a crack in his expression or some tell that would give him away one way or the other, but I couldn’t find anything. He genuinely looked like he thought they were screwing with him, as though this was some weird setup or prank he wasn’t in on.
I really hoped that was the case.
Because if he believed we were bluffing, then he had nothing to hide. And if he had nothing to hide, then maybe they were wrong about him after all. And god, I really wanted them to be wrong about him.
“They did something to us, Cale,” I answered gently, gauging his reaction to see if he knew what I was talking about before I spelled it out for him.
He blinked at me, not appearing to understand my statement in the least. “Who is they? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about The Order.” I kept my eyes on Caleb’s face, searching for a flicker of recognition, guilt, panic, anything.
When I didn’t find it, I continued, “William admitted his High Casters worked a spell on us. Something tied to the deadly sins. And it’s not just affecting me.
It’s affecting everyone in the house. All of us. ”
“But that would require gaining entry,” said Caleb as he stared back at me pensively, the implications slowly clicking into place. “They would have needed to place some kind of talisman in the house to maintain the connection.”
“Exactly,” said Trace, his jaw muscle working. “So how’d they get past the wards, Caleb?”
“They couldn’t have. Not from the outside.” He grimaced, his eyes darting back and forth between us. “The only way a talisman can get past those wards is if it’s brought in by someone the house recognizes. Someone on the approved list.”
“Ah. The approved list,” echoed Dominic, sounding accusatory and threatening in equal parts as he looked at Trace and then me. “Meaning someone we trust.”
Trace rose to his feet. “That’s a pretty short list, Caleb.”
“It wasn’t me if that’s what you’re thinking,” he fired back, looking offended at the insinuation. “I swear on my life, I would never—”
“Then who?” Dominic’s question cut through the room. “Who else had the access and the knowledge to get past the wards and place a talisman here without being detected?”
“You're looking at the wrong person. I know how this looks, but I’m telling you it wasn’t me.” Caleb’s voice pitched with frustration as he continued, “Do you really think I’d ever do something like that to Jemma? Think about what you’re saying. You know I wouldn’t hurt her.”
Dominic didn’t so much as blink. “You’d do well to tread carefully before telling me what I know.”
The color went out of Caleb’s face in one clean pull, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly. But doubt had already taken root, and it was spreading faster than I could temper.
“Then who did, Cale?” I asked, the words coming out raw and hopeless. “If you didn’t let them past the wards, then how did they do this?”
“I wish I fucking knew,” he said, pushing both hands through his hair and leaving the copper strands disheveled and standing at uneven angles.
“Maybe the spell failed…or maybe they just have stronger magic than I do, and they found a way to get around it remotely. They’re High Casters.
The best in the Order. If anyone could find a way past the wards, it would be them. ”
“Are you saying you think they skirted your wards completely?” asked Trace, his eyes thinning.
“I’m saying I don’t know how they did it, but yeah, it’s possible. Anything’s possible.” Caleb’s arms spread in a helpless gesture before dropping back to his sides. “The kind of power and resources they have access to—it’s out of my league, man. Way fucking out.”
Dominic studied him carefully, his form backlit by the fire in a way that made him look almost menacing. “If they bypassed it without your aid, wouldn’t their breach have left a trace behind?”
“Not necessarily.” Caleb’s jaw clenched, his brows furrowing as he tried to work it out in his mind.
“They could have used some kind of intricate spell to cloak their magic. My wards are good, but they’re not designed to detect that level of subtlety.
It’s like—” He searched for the right words.
“It’s like trying to catch smoke with a net.
The magic I know works on a different frequency than theirs, and that’s not even taking into account what they’re actually capable of wielding. ”
“Well, you better start figuring out how to catch that smoke, Caleb, because either someone put a talisman in this house on purpose, or your wards aren’t holding the way you think they are. And both of those are problems we need to solve now.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” snapped Caleb, glaring at Trace.
“You’re asking me to prove a negative here.
If there’s a talisman, I don’t know where it is or how it got past the wards.
And if there isn’t, then I’m dealing with magic I can’t track or compete with.
I don’t even know what they fucking did. At this point, it could be anything…”
He was still talking when his words suddenly became distant and muted, as though sound were being sucked out of the room like air through a crack. A thin, crawling pressure spread behind my eyes, building fast enough to make my pulse spike and my breath hitch.
Something was very wrong.
My mouth opened to say as much—to call out to them—but the moment never came.
The whispers hit, and then they were everywhere at once, crashing into me with enough force to empty my lungs completely.
Caleb’s voice, Dominic’s response, even the rhythm of my own breathing, all of it swept under and buried beneath the onslaught.
…Sister, hear us…
“No,” I gasped sharply, my hands flying to my temples as though I could physically push their voices out of my head. My fingers dug into my scalp, nails biting into my skin. Please. Not again.
…Time is of the essence…
“Jemma?” Trace was beside me in an instant, his fingers gripping my chin and lifting my face to his.
…The Son of Perdition must be eliminated...
“Stop,” I cried out, the word tearing loose as I curled in on myself, but the voices were relentless, pounding against the inside of my skull with increasing ferocity.