Chapter Twenty-Five
Callum
Callum wiped Barnaby’s blood off his dagger.
The dupe tail slung over his shoulder and the carriage ransacked for any other things he might need, Callum was ready to leave.
The heist was in progress. He shouldn’t care what was going on, but he did.
He wondered how Avelina was doing. If she was going along obediently or if she was fighting Grahm tooth and nail.
Like she does to me, but at least when I’m there, it’s fun.
No, he reminded himself. She’s not fun. She’s a burden. We’re getting rid of a burden.
His one-way ticket to a free life was within reach.
All he had to do was forget about the woman down there with his crew.
Easy enough, he lied to himself. He just needed to keep lying till it became true.
I don’t care about her. I find her burdensome.
I don’t… But even he couldn’t come to think the words ‘care if she lives or dies’.
He did care. He cared so much he made Grahm take care of her.
Because if Callum had to put her on that train, then he’d get aboard.
Worry was a pit in his stomach he tried to outmaneuver.
The carcass slung over his shoulder weighed nothing compared to the ceaseless thoughts about Avelina.
The darkness, did she cast it? Was she safe still?
That moment where it was just them, where she almost asked him to explain, his lungs seized up.
His little viper had a backbone. A spiked one, at that, she looked ready to tear his head off.
His little viper, huh? Shit.
Get out now. Time was ticking and soon the slumbering Stronghold would realize there was a ruckus near the vault. They’d swarm and there would be no getting out of it. He needed to leave.
Callum tossed the hunk of tail into an alley near to the heist, as near as he could get without being dragged into it, along with his bloodied clothes. Pulling on a clean shirt and vest, he tucked his belts into a satchel he slung over his shoulder. Look at me? A new man. Or soon would be.
Sliding through the dark, he followed the empty streets of Parandor up to the northern train station.
During the day, up until the moment the moon rose over the lip of the walls, the Stronghold was a buzzing beehive.
When they arrived, all the refugees were clogging up streets.
Everyone searching for a home to hunker down in; it was a chaotic circus. The perfect disguise.
Then the sun set fully and Parandor tucked itself in for the night.
Most of the torches were out. The ones still alive burned low in front of taverns or inns.
He kept out of the glow to the best of his abilities.
There were a few stragglers here or there, and he held his breath as one or two patrolling guards wandered the streets.
But to his delight, the city let him pass through unnoticed. His pride surged. See, darlin’. Easy as pie. How she’d wrinkle her nose at the thought. He’d gotten through the whole city and not a single sideways glance. The look on her face would be priceless.
Callum stopped outside the glow of all the lanterns around the train station. His heart gripped him. Damnit. He glanced back over his shoulder. The Stronghold was quiet, no rushing Paladins in full platemail, no screaming alarms, it’s like the heist wasn’t happening.
I should make sure Grahm keeps his word.
Spineless fool, his priorities are always all over the place.
Grahm never took anything seriously enough.
It’s why he was still under Callum’s thumb.
He didn’t have the grit to do what Callum did, he could never be Cottonmouth.
Or Mad Madeline or Murderin’ Mary…he could probably do better than Daggertooth.
Callum licked his lips nervously. The pull came from deep in his gut.
A line drawn between him and his warlock tugged him toward the darkened city.
Get out! The lure of checking on her was precisely the reason he needed to go!
He’d spend a lifetime worried if she made it out of the city.
Fuck. He surged out into the light. His tail flicked irritably behind him as he followed a trundling family through the gateway to the ticket booth.
A little girl clung to her mother’s hand, a daemon family with royal blue skin and purple horns.
The boy snoring on his father’s shoulder had a crown of little horns that held back wavy black hair.
Cute… He shook his head, tearing his attention away from the domestic view in front of him.
They made a pretty picture. This is all her fault.
Avelina made him think of the future, of things other than him…
of how sweet it might be to see her holding a little bundle.
Of course, that was a foolish idea, their life wouldn’t allow for the safety required to rear children responsibly.
I’ve never thought of children before. He glanced up at the family in line in front of him.
The little girl peered through her mother’s sleeve at him.
Big, pink eyes that glowed as if backlit by candles, she bore through him.
A crystal-clear windowpane, that child saw directly through him and he flinched backward because of it.
Avelina would make pretty children. Her round face, slightly upturned nose, a tiny version of her would be pudgy and adorable.
Hopefully none of them had his features.
His heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes with the little girl.
Why would her kids have my features? Because even in his silliest of fantasies, he could only imagine her with him.
A strong sense of possessiveness filled his belly as he considered Avelina’s life after the heist. After waking up in the capital city with nothing but the clothes on her back.
She would still be a warlock—she could never return to her previous life.
There, of course, was the best friend to consider.
But where would she go? Would she disappear into the continent, pop up with a new name and no past in one of the other cities that didn’t care about Paladins or warlocks or the SunBringer? Would she find someone else?
That made his teeth clench and fists curl. He looked away from the kid again. Whatever Avelina did after was not his concern. If she made it out alive was not his concern. Avelina was no longer his concern. Just he…himself…and—
“What do you mean the trains aren’t leaving?” The family and Callum perked up as the woman at the ticket counter grew shrill. “I am due to be home for my grandbaby. I cannot be stuck here when I’m needed there.”
“I am so sorry, ma’am, but we’ve been told not to board anyone else on the night train. There’s been an attack on the vault. The Stronghold is on lockdown.”
Callum glanced back to the city, searching for the alarms. Nothing moved or shook or sounded, which worried him more. He scanned what he could see in the dark for merging bodies or rushing paladins but it was just as still and calm as when he arrived.
“Please take a seat next to the booth, your pass has already been scanned. Once the train begins to board again—” A beam of light, short lived but powerful, pierced the night sky.
Callum didn’t hear the desk agent’s other words.
His focus was on trying to pinpoint where the pillar of sunlight came from.
It disappeared without another sound. Still, there was no great rush of people or anyone poking their heads out into the alleys.
He slithered an inch to the side, lured by the light, with his head craned.
“Sir?”
Callum straightened and returned his attention to the gate agent. The family was seated with the elderly human who had been in line ahead of them. He flashed an apologetic smile as he approached. “I got a quick question. Yeah, this attack on the vault?”
“You have nothing to fear, sir. Any gold you have in there is perfectly safe.”
“Uh-huh,” he laughed, swinging his bag around his body.
He opened it slowly to give himself time to distract the agent.
They were an elven person with hair stylishly swept to the side, a tiara across their forehead.
Dressed in clerical robes with all the same emblems, but they worked behind the desk at the train station, stamping tickets and telling people which vessel to board.
Their uninterested green eyes kept on their pile of papers in front of them, not on Callum.
He cleared his throat, finally getting a mildly irritated glance from them.
Callum used his most precise, practiced voice, “I wonder how that is, when I don’t see any rushin’ forces or alarms going off.
Certainly, if there was an attack, they’d be doin’ more than just stoppin’ the trains. ”
The desk agent sighed, “You’ve nothing to be worried about, sir.”
“Really, the response by the Paladins is deplorable if they—”
He knew he’d pushed just the right buttons because the agent rolled their eyes. They pushed aside their papers before they folded their arms over the top of the desk. “Sir, we knew this attack was coming.”
Callum blinked once. “What?”
“Clearly you’re the nosey sort, so I’ll indulge you. We caught one of the outlaws at large, you might know him as Daggertooth Dan.”
Callum’s fake smile faltered for a moment. Dan? No. No Dan died! I heard him scream when they gutted him. Shit. His head filled with screams of fury as she nodded to the gate agent to continue.
“Well, he squealed. All those pathetic little outlaws do. He told us that some fools were planning to hit the vault, so we made it look like we were low on security to entice them to strike. I got word not that long ago that they’d made their move and we’re moving in on them now. Now…your papers, sir?”
Callum froze, fingers curled around the maw of his satchel.
Dan squealed? The entire heist was a trap.
He sent her into a trap. He sent her into a Paladin trap!
His heart skipped a beat as he glanced back out toward the city beyond the train station.
She’s a sitting duck. Sure, she could probably whoop his crew’s ass if she was scared enough.
And yeah, his warlock grew a backbone, but was she slaughter an entire Stronghold of prepared Paladins strong? Shit.
The crackle of voices caught his attention. Both him and the attendant glanced at a fancy opal sitting on the desk. A message stone. He watched in terror that maybe it would be Avelina on the other end, screaming for help. Only it was worse.
So much worse.
“Repeat, you are clear to board the trains. The perpetrators have been caught. They eviscerated the harpy, but we’ve arrested the Drakonis and Ms. Dalethorn. They’ll be waiting for processing in the temple with Dan.”
The agent exhaled happily, taking the stone in hand and putting it to their mouth. “Copy that, thank you, Knight Commander. That’ll be a hefty reward paid to Parandor, the king will be delighted to hear we got three in one go. Boarding the night train.”
“Fuck!” Callum barked.
He didn’t wait to hear what they said next.
He raced from the station into the city, satchel flying with him.
The cries of the desk agent followed him for a block or two, but he was gone.
Callum zipped through the streets in search of his warlock.
His stomach was in knots at the idea of her in the temple.
If they lay a finger on her. The plan was simple!
He was furious and if Grahm was still alive when he got there, he’s dead.
One job! Just the one! Grahm had one fucking job.
Get his warlock out of the city during the heist. If he’d done his fucking job, then she’d be on some wagon headed to Eshorion and likely Grahm wouldn’t be in chains.
Callum fumed, shoving a cloaked man stumbling out of a bar right back into the door.
He didn’t even stop when he heard the snap of some bone in the bastard’s body echo off the stone.
No one treated Avelina right. Not her righteous father who made her afraid of every raised hand or stern word.
Not her cowardly mother who didn’t prepare her for the world or teach her to love better people than Callum fucking Cottonmouth Zaspair.
Not his crew, not the Paladins, and certainly not Grahm!
If this rotten, traitorous world was not going to handle her properly, then he’d just have to do it his fucking self.
Madeline used to say, if you want something done right, you’ll have to do it yourself. And Callum was going to save her skin…again. She could hate him all she wanted, but she was leaving the city with him. We’re leaving together this time, little viper.