A Soulmark Series

by Rebecca Main

  Keenan’s jaw ticks. He steps up onto the landing step with me, towering over me once more. “I’ve already told you, your lover and the ring will be returned as soon as he’s healed. The witches have been taking care of him, so I’m sure he’ll be in a state fit to travel soon.”

  “My lover?” I choke out. Keenan’s eyes darken a fraction, but his intense regard doesn’t waver. “He’s my brother,” I tell him bluntly, pushing past him up the stairs. I feel a small pang of guilt in my heart and realize a short second later that it doesn’t come from me, but Keenan. I fight the urge to turn around and face him and argue till I’m red in the face. It isn’t the time or place.

  “It’s the third door on the right. The one at the end of the hall.” I follow his instruction, knocking gently on the door before opening it without delay.

  “JJ,” I breathe. He lies prone on the bed, shirtless and with a sterile white bandage around his waist. No one else occupies the room, but a number of miscellaneous bottles and bowls are scattered across a large dresser near the bed. I close the door behind me as softly as possible, not wanting to wake him from his slumber.

  A sheen of tears clouds my vision momentarily, and I hastily work to blink them away. He’s alive. That’s all that matters. A lonesome tear escapes and falls down my cheek. I quickly dash it away, afraid that with it more will follow.

  “Cal?” his hoarse voice whispers.

  “JJ.” I’m kneeling by his bedside before I can blink, my hand reaching out to take hold of his. “You’re okay.”

  He grunts, blinking away the sleep as he works his way up higher on the pillows. “I’ve been better,” he tells me gruffly, sitting up straighter. “How did you find me? How did you get here?”

  I swallow past my swell of emotion as the memories come rushing forward. “The full force of the swarm was too much. I cut myself to draw the golems attention and led them to the wolves hiding out in the woods. I heard the van peel out, but I thought you were in it, JJ. Why weren’t you in that van?”

  “I rolled under it. I don’t think Naomi or Wyatt saw. I think they thought what you thought, that I made it into the van.”

  “But you didn’t,” I whisper horrified.

  He shakes his head grimly. “Some of the golems took chase after the van, but they didn’t get very far once they realized I was still there.”

  “So how did you survive?”

  “The wolves,” he says bitterly. “You?”

  My mouth goes a bit dry. “The wolves.”

  “I don’t like this, Cal,” he whispers, eyeing the door suspiciously. “We’ve got to find a way out of here. They’ve got me on forced bed rest, but whatever the witches have given me has sped up my healing process tenfold. I could be good to go by tomorrow. We just need to make a plan.”

  “There’s already a plan in place, JJ,” I tell him softly, not daring to meet his eyes. “I made a deal with the wolves. Once you’re able to travel, you and the ring will be sent back to the Banks Facility.”

  JJ’s face screws up in confusion. “What? How did you—”

  I shake my head sharply, effectively cutting him off. “I stay. I stay with the blade.” JJ opens his mouth to speak, but I give his hand a sharp squeeze and shake my head more slowly, giving a sidelong glance toward the bedroom door. He nods with understanding, regarding me with solemn eyes.

  “So, they just get to keep you? For how long?” I shrug and keep my face composed in a neutral expression, turning my gaze back to his. “You didn’t have to make this kind of deal, Callie.”

  I give JJ a sad smile, mustering an ounce of warmth to it. “Come on, JJ. You can’t always save the day. Besides, this was all my idea in the first place. It’s my responsibility to set things right.”

  “You know we’ll come back for you. The full force of the Wardens. Do they know that?”

  “I know they’ll come back for the blade at the very least,” I tell him with a weak laugh. This time JJ is the one to squeeze my hand, and with a surprising amount of strength.

  “I’ll come back for you, Cal. Always.”

  I shake my head sadly. “Don’t make more of a mess of this than it has to be. Follow orders, JJ, and do right by our family. We both know there’s no real coming back from this for me. It doesn’t have to be that way for you too.”

  JJ looks pained at the words but doesn’t argue. He pulls his hand from my grasp, resting it gently on his abdomen with a rasping sigh. I curl my arm inward and duck my chin down to rest it on my forearm.

  “You’ll stay with me?” he asks tiredly.

  “For as long as I can,” I assure him. He frowns back at me.

  “Where are they keeping you?”

  My fingers toy idly with the end of the blanket. “The alpha’s residence.” JJ’s eyes widen. “It’s fine. My accommodations have been recently upgraded from prison cell to heavily guarded guest room. Anyway, I don't know why you're making that face at me. You do know you're staying at the coven’s leader’s home, right?”

  “The old ladies?” he asks dubiously.

  “There’s a fairy here too, JJ,” I tell him, real excitement tingeing my voice. “And she’s not at all how you’d imagine. She’s beautiful. Completely unearthly. Snow white hair. Purple eyes. She says the witches glamoured her wings and flowers away.”

  JJ slowly shakes his head, and my idle play comes to an end. “That’s not what a fairy is, Cal. They’re—”

  “I know! Green, gross, and gnarly teeth. But she says she’s a fairy and whatever we described is an imp.”

  “But that’s not what the books say,” he continues, a bit condescendingly.

  “Well,” I give another shrug and straighten my back, “maybe the books are wrong.”

  JJ scalds me with his glare, so much so I have to look away in shame. “The books have been around for centuries, Cal. We’ve learned everything from them. When have they ever been wrong?”

  His comment is a sharp reminder of my past wrongs. “They haven’t,” I whisper dejectedly.

  “Don’t let them fool you, Callie. They can play nice all they want, but never forget what they are. They can’t be trusted.”

  I sink down to sit fully on the floor. “I know,” I mutter, feeling a pang of guilt once more, this one all my own.

  Chapter 13

  Lesson Learned

  Keenan gathers me from JJ’s room when the witches come to apply more of their medicines. I make a note of their faces. One has cocoa skin and hair pulled back into a neat chignon, her eyes green and piercing, cat-like almost. The other has her white hair plaited and draped over her shoulder. Her alabaster skin is covered in scars, but they don’t mar the kindness in her eyes. They are “the aunts,” Keenan tells me as we make our way down the stairs. Even as we leave, I can hear them making a fuss over JJ: shaking out his blankets, opening the lone window at the far end of his room, the tinkling of glasses and bowls whose contents will no doubt be smeared across his skin. He answers them in short responses, ones I strain to hear as we reach the landing step. Then a round of laughter sounds from the room. Including JJ’s.

  “He’s fine,” Keenan tells me quietly, placing a hand on my lower back and urging me gently forward. “They know what they’re doing.”

  I allow Keenan to guide me toward the front door, but I can't help but glance around for the not-fairy. She’s nowhere to be seen.

  “She’s in the forest.”

  Keenan holds the door open for me. “Good for her,” I mutter. His sigh of frustration is almost inaudible as I steam past him toward the truck. The remainder of my time with JJ hadn’t gone as planned. I hoped to receive some kind of praise or acknowledgment for my plan but had been dealt a monotonous lecture on the importance of our cause.

  As if I need reminding of the people we have sworn to protect, or that we are in the midst of terrible and powerful creatures. I know, for heaven’s sake. After an hour of hearing himself speak, JJ finally took note of my putout demeanor and wrapped up his lecture
. He clasped my hand and told me he would always be my big brother. That he would always look out for me and make sure I got home safe and sound.

  Then I lied to his face and told him I’d be waiting. Waiting! The soulmark felt like some ugly brand against my skin as I hid the truth from him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Keenan asks once we’ve gotten into the truck and fastened our seat belts.

  “Not particularly,” I respond, resting my head against the passenger side window and gazing at the witches’ house.

  Keenan’s hand envelops my own, capturing my full attention with ease. “Are you sure?” The question is low and soft. It takes me unaware when combined with the solemn set of his brow and the concern pulsing through our bond weakly. My chest constricts as I nod dumbly and pull my hand from his.

  “Let’s not pretend like you didn’t hear every—”

  Keenan shakes his head swiftly. “I was downstairs with Luna. I may have heard bits and pieces at the start, but I did my best not to listen. Thankfully, Luna can be quite the handful, so I was distracted easily enough with her ramblings.”

  “Oh,” I murmur, averting my gaze to the dashboard.

  “You’re upset,” he says simply. My disagreement is on the tip of my tongue when Keenan reaches out and cups my chin. He turns my face back toward his then releases me. “You are,” he continues, baring his forearm and pressing his fingers to the soulmark. “I can feel it.”

  “It’s nothing,” I tell him dispassionately, schooling my features into one of indifference. “We just talked.”

  “Clearly about something unpleasant.”

  I shrug. “It was nothing I haven’t heard before. Can we go now?”

  Keenan sits back in his seat and pulls out the keys. When the engine rumbles to life, he passes me an unreadable look. “Big plans tonight?” he asks gruffly. For a moment, I am struck stupid by his blasé comment until I recognize the wry note of sarcasm in it. A gurgle of laughter pushes past my lips at his remark, one I try desperately to cover with a scoff. The smirk that plays on the corner of his lips tells me I haven’t succeeded, but at least the heaviness inside my chest is lessened. I even let our fingers brush against each other on the way back.

  +++

  Dinner is a lackluster affair. A plate of food is brought to my room, per my request, but I merely poke at the white fish and rice. I can’t seem to get the conversation with JJ out of my head. Nor the niggling notion that I’ve made an awful mistake in sealing the soulmark and not telling him. What will happen if the Wardens do come for me and I am separated from Keenan? Slowly go mad? Sink into a depression I can never fully recover from? Be forced to marry Wyatt and forsake the soulmark? There is far too much nervous energy careening through my body for me to have much of an appetite. I need to fight to clear my head. Or at least get my hands back on my butterfly knife. My hands feel incomplete without it.

  A knock sounds at my door. “Come in,” I call, pushing aside my plate

  Keenan’s head pokes around the corner of the door, his eyes quickly darting to my half-eaten plate of food before turning their focus on me. “Busy?”

  I fight down the urge to grin and quell the stir of excitement in my stomach at his presence. It’s just the soulmark. He steps more fully into the room when I don’t immediately reply.

  “I'm obviously not,” I finally respond.

  “I was wondering if we could pick your brain for a bit?” he asks casually. I raise a brow.

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “A few of the top-ranking wolves and myself.”

  My eyes narrow on his neutral expression. “About what?”

  “Other supernatural creatures.”

  I capture a lock of hair and twirl it loosely around my finger as I weigh the pros and cons. If I go along, I can potentially learn more about Nova’s whereabouts and even more about the magical barrier. It also meant sharing trade knowledge with the enemy, something I’m hesitant to do.

  “All right,” I agree unenthusiastically as I stand, brushing imaginary crumbs from my lap. If it means learning more about Nova or the dangers JJ could encounter on his way back to the Banks Facility, it’s best to go.

  We walk to the study we were in yesterday. In it are six men and two females. From the bunch, only two faces are familiar to me. Atticus gives me a smile and nod as I enter with Keenan. He makes room for us to stand around the large desk, very clearly nudging aside the other familiar face. One with dark hair and a devious smirk. His eyes scream mischief as they follow our entrance.

  “About time,” he tells us jovially. This is the man who kissed Quinn, I realize, the night of the first robbery. The boyfriend, Ryatt. “Shall we all go around and say our names and favorite hobby?” I scowl at his imprudence and cast my gaze around the gathered wolves.

  “I’m inclined to agree with Ryatt,” a man with olive skin and dark hair that reaches almost to his shoulders says. He has piercing green eyes, even more so than the witch I met briefly earlier with JJ. From his words and stance alone, I know him to be the alpha. “I’m Xander,” he continues coolly, not minding at all the minor glare I send in his direction. “You’ve met Atticus, my beta.” Atticus bumps me with his elbow and sends me a wink. “Beside him is my younger brother, Ryatt. Our third.” Ryatt inclines his head, the wicked smirk still plastered across his face.

  “Kevin,” a surly looking redhead offers. “I’m the fourth.” He bears a fresh black eye and keeps tossing scowls to the raven-haired beauty next to him. The woman's hands are stuffed in the pockets of the long vest she wears, but I’m sure they're coated in bruises.

  “Irina,” she says with an overly sweet smile directed my way. Her eyes take a leisurely path in their assessment of me. I don’t bother to straighten under her regard and wait for the next man to announce himself.

  The lean blond smiles softly at me, head ducking as he gives me his name. “I’m Micah.”

  “Keenan’s protégé,” Ryatt pipes in. The lean man sends a short glare Ryatt’s way, but his eyes don’t make it past the other’s collarbone. He must rank much lower in the pack if he can’t meet Ryatt’s eyes, which begs the question as to why he’s here in the first place. Keenan is only ranked fifth, after all.

  “Hi, Calliope,” a dainty woman with golden brown skin waves shyly at me from across the desk. I give her a small, strained smile in return. “I’m Zoelle.”

  My smile drops. “So, you’re the one who likes to mess with peoples’ emotions?”

  She rolls her eyes toward the alpha, a scowl emerging over her features. “I just wanted to help facilitate a calm and open-minded environment. You were hitting each other earlier!” Zoelle’s voice is flush with agitation, as well as her cheeks. “It was Quinn who kept harassing me to do the other one.”

  “Was that supposed to be an apology?” I ask dryly.

  She huffs. “I can’t help putting emotions into my dishes. Okay? It’s just a part of my magic. At least I didn’t make you angry or sad.” She crosses her arms defensively and seals her lips shut.

  “Don’t worry, Calliope. You’re not the first person to fall prey to Zoelle’s particular magic. Think of it as a test all new members of the pack have to pass,” Ryatt says.

  “I’m not part of your pack.” I spit the word out with as much venom as I can muster. All of the wolves’ shoulders sink in response, the somewhat lighthearted mood dropping out of sight.