Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
We meet Caldwell on the roof, as expected. The dead night leaves the moon as the only beacon of hope and magic. The other buildings around campus are quiet as well, with the occasional light flickering and shining through the windows of the stony building.
Around Caldwell, few items are strewn on the ground: a shiny dagger, a satchel of herbs, and a vial of blood. I wince. Blood doesn’t make me queasy, considering my drink of choice, but I know Tobey isn’t accustomed to the ways of our world.
When I look at them, they appear perfectly calm. No flinch, no tremble.
“Are you okay?” I stand by their side and squeeze their shoulder.
“I’m fine.” They offer a tired smile. “Just ready to get this over with.”
“I bet you never thought you would find yourself watching a witch make such a weapon.”
“I definitely didn’t.” They turn away, peering at Caldwell as he makes a circle of herbs. “But as far as witches go, we have one of the best ones. He knows what he’s doing.”
I don’t want to say it aloud, but we’re lucky to have Caldwell on our side. His mother owns a witch shop, and I imagine he’s gathered more information than the rest of us. There are a few rude things I could say about Caldwell—a bit pompous, terrible eyesight—but I won’t doubt his intellect.
He’s quiet as he places the dagger in the middle of the ring of herbs, and there’s a wrinkle between his brows.
“What should we be doing?” Jun’s hands hang limply at his sides.
If he’s uncomfortable in our dorm, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now.
“Nothing,” Caldwell says without looking up from his work. “For now, stay there. I don’t need any help.”
“Whose blood is that?” I whisper to Tobey.
“Don’t tell me you’re freaked out by a little blood,” they say.
“Blood? No. Blood magic is another story. I’ve heard it’s chaotic. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite. I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t,” Caldwell says. “Blood magic is powerful, which means there is always an element of unpredictability.”
“You’re not exactly instilling confidence in me.”
Caldwell rolls his eyes. “This blood is mine, but the blood of any demon or half-demon would do. I’m giving the weapon instructions—to let it know what it’s meant for. Demon blood does just that.”
“You’re a half-demon?” Jun asks.
Caldwell nods. “My witch side is dominant, but there should be enough demon nature in my blood for the weapon to know what to do.”
When two supernatural beings procreate, one magic tends to be more dominant than the other, rather than an even blend of the two. While Caldwell has a demonic nature, it’s likely shown more subtly than his witchcraft.
Jun, on the other hand, is visibly demonic. He wears his horns and wings with pride, and his eyes flash red; Caldwell’s don’t, from what I’ve seen.
“Huh.” Jun hesitates. “Would more demon blood be useful?”
“I wasn’t going to ask, but…” Caldwell finally looks up, locking eyes with Jun. “Is that your way of making an offer?”
“Maybe. If you think it will help.”
“It may make the weapon stronger, especially with you being more demonic than I am.”
“You don’t have to do it,” I say. “Caldwell’s blood will probably suffice, and if you don’t want to get wrapped up in the whole blood magic thing… it would be understandable.”
Jun turns to face me, his head tilting to the side. “I would never offer to do anything I don’t want to do.”
I roll my eyes. “Lucky you.”
He’s smirking as he steps closer to Caldwell, offering his hand. “I’m willing to donate some blood if it means we have the most powerful weapon. We’re going up against a powerful demon, after all. We can’t be careful enough.”
And Jun shares blood with the very demon we’re taking down.
For so long, I considered Strode’s strength as the founder of our school a good thing. It was supposed to protect our school, and he provided us with funding. The red flags should have been more obvious. When you’re dealing with a demon, nothing is free.
What price is Strode holding over us? I shudder.
We still don’t know the demon is involved at all—there’s not a single sign pointing us to him—other than Jun’s word.
Jun stays perfectly still as Caldwell stands and draws the blade close to the other man’s hand.
“Inhale slowly,” Caldwell says.
“How much blood do you need?” I whisper.
Caldwell lifts a brow and jerks his head to the vial of blood. It’s smaller than my pinky. “About that much.”
“That’s not so—”
Before I can finish my thought, Caldwell cuts into Jun’s hand.
Rather than collecting the blood in a vial, it falls directly onto the blazing fire.
Jun winces and hisses, his eyes closing as the blood drips from his hand.
The scent hits me, powerful and spiced, like cinnamon.
It’s the same scent I’ve always smelled around Jun, and…
My fangs throb. Hunger replaces my nerves, and my lips part. I haven’t had a fresh meal in a month, and…
Hell, Jun looks good. His eyes meet mine, flashing red, and there’s a soft pulse between my thighs. Slowly, a smirk creeps onto his lips, as if he can hear my treacherous thoughts. As if he can feel my hunger.
It’s over before I can blink.
Caldwell drops the blade to the ground with a clattering sound, and Jun presses a clean cloth against his wound.
I step closer, holding my hand out. “Let me see.”
“What?” He snorts. “You thirsty, or something?”
I roll my eyes. “No.” Well, yes, but there’s another reason for my request. “I can stop the bleeding.”
With painstakingly slow movements, Jun offers me his hand.
I lift it to my mouth. My eyes close as I run my tongue over the minor cut. His blood collects in my mouth—rich and hot like fire, like spiced hot chocolate—but it’s not enough. A taste leaves me longing for more.
A soft moan escapes me, and Jun’s mouth opens, his gaze searing as our eyes lock. My fangs throb, but I don’t pierce. I don’t drink, no matter how much I want to.
My saliva coats the wound, and it closes.
This is closer than we’ve ever been. I’m dizzy.
Tobey’s stare is on me, and it’s as sharp as the dagger on the ground. Their gaze forces me to pry myself from Jun, leaving his warmth behind.
I lick my lips, savoring the remaining drops of his essence. Damn him. Why does he taste like that?
Jun smirks. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
His words are low enough that the others may not hear. I hope they can’t—a terrible little secret, just for us.
My stomach flips. I’m hot, I realize—a rare feeling for my kind. It must be the demon blood. The warmth spreads to my cheeks, leaving me flushed and flustered.
“You wish,” I mutter. “We’re teammates now. Nothing more.”
And I’ll go back to hating him as soon as this is all over—assuming that we both live through it.
“That’s all I need,” Caldwell says. “I can begin.”
The words break me out of whatever frustrating, bloodlust spell Jun has put me under.
I tear my attention from him, focusing on where Caldwell kneels on the ground. His pants are spattered with blood, but I suppose we’re all beyond caring about the gore. Tobey takes a tentative step closer, but Caldwell holds a hand up.
“I have to light the herbs,” he says. “Don’t come too close.”
Tobey nods, remaining in place.
The first thing Caldwell lights is a bundle of herbs, which he drops gracefully. The fire catches on the ring of herbs next, and the ring bursts into a blazing fire.
Caldwell picks up the dagger, drawing it through the flames, muttering Latin incantations.
I move closer to Tobey, taking their hand in mine.
“Have you ever seen him like this?” I ask.
“No.” Tobey shakes their head. “Never.”
But rather than looking confused, or even worse—getting the ick—Tobey gazes at Caldwell with fascination and admiration in her eyes.
“And?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“He’s powerful.” Tobey bites their lower lip.
What a freak.
Caldwell reaches into the fire without a care, and it doesn’t burn him; perhaps he has some demonic features after all. When he removes his hand from the flame, he’s grasping the dagger once again.
He stands, holding the weapon to the sky, and a moonbeam comes from the heavens. I see it vividly—silver light reflecting on the dagger and bouncing back to the sky. The fire diminishes as if he had poured water on it.
For a moment, Caldwell glows. A silvery essence surrounds him, but it fades once he steps out of the circle. He holds the witch weapon out to Jun, his expression somber. “I want you to keep this safe.”
Jun nods, taking the newly charmed dagger with a soft, precious touch. “I will.”
“When you use it, make sure you get him in the heart. Be precise. That’s the only way this will work.”
Caldwell’s job is done, and Jun accepts the charmed dagger.
It’s my turn, I realize. I have to make the next move. No one else can do it for me.