I rested my head back on the yellow shingles of the house as I looked beyond the scattered cabins full of sleeping people to the tree line beyond. Was Callon out there running around? Was he planning on coming in sometime tonight, or would he avoid me until forced? I wished I had that option. It was getting that I couldn’t sleep without knowing he was nearby, preferably next to me.
I would’ve rather been at the lodge. Not that this place was bad. It was the opposite, in fact. It was amazing. But I wouldn’t be getting too much more time at the lodge. Days were numbered wherever you were. I knew that better than anyone, being constantly reminded of death. But there was something about having that number defined that added a preciousness that didn’t exist when time was sprawling out in front of you, seemingly endless.
The back door creaked and boots sounded on the wooden porch. I knew it wasn’t Callon before Dax leaned a shoulder on the beam, leaving a healthy gap between us. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders as a gust of evening air swept over me but uncrossed my legs and lowered my feet to the ground. Dax seemed nice enough, but that meant nothing. Lots of people seemed all sorts of things they weren’t until you met them alone with no witnesses about. There was nothing like the dark of night to bring out someone’s true shade.
He nodded in my direction. “I didn’t mean to startle you. If I’m disturbing you, I can go back in.”
I nodded, giving a tentative we’re fine. Not because we definitely were, but he was currently behaving. Also, this was his porch—and his house. It didn’t seem fitting to kick him out when the only thing he’d done so far was be an unfamiliar male.
He turned from me toward the trees, as if he sensed my unease with his stare. I was glad. I preferred having his back to me, even if it were a false sense of security.
“Dal mentioned you’ve had a bit of a rough go of it,” he said.
“You mean like half the population of this fucked-up world? Yes, I guess that’s true.” I might not be willing to hide my past, but that didn’t make it open for discussion.
He looked over his shoulder. “Maybe a little worse than?”
I gave him a faint grunt. He might not look that old, but he sure spoke like he was. I was having a fine time out here alone, and he was going to drive me back inside.
“Look, I know it’s none of my business and I can’t quite explain it, but I feel a closeness to you—”
I jumped up from the bench and took a few steps away from the house, my heart pounding, ready to run.
He held up both hands. “I’m sorry. That’s not the type of closeness I meant. Actually, it couldn’t be further from it.”
Only the thinnest thread of sanity kept me in my spot. I was overreacting. I knew it. Just being here alone with a man I didn’t know, with Callon nowhere around, made me feel vulnerable. It was as if I were back in the village, and everywhere I turned there was a threat. Like I’d forgotten that I could kill with a touch. I was the meanest, baddest thing in the Wilds, and I had to remember that. I didn’t need to run anymore. I was the predator. The top of the food chain. If I could stop feeling like the victim and remember it, maybe I wouldn’t be about to run through the woods with no shoes and a blanket pulled over my shoulders.
“I’m not afraid of you.” I gulped in a few deep breaths and took a step forward, and then another. I was almost back at the bench, and he was keeping a respectable distance.
“You like space. I can respect that,” he said, taking another step away as if the awkwardness were his fault.
The better he was, the more my skin burned. “I overreact occasionally, but I’m fine. I’m a lot tougher than I look, and being too trusting is stupid.”
“I completely agree.”
He needed to stop being so accommodating and shut up or I’d be telling him things I shouldn’t. I was already blathering like an idiot.
“Can I give you a piece of advice? You don’t need to take it, but just listen.”
I shrugged. He could take that however he wanted. I wasn’t talking any more, no matter what he said. Who knew what idiocy I’d say next?
“Callon is a hard man. For whatever reason, he’s willing to protect you, and he doesn’t seem to be looking for anything else. Don’t feel like you need to repay that.”
“I really don’t think this is any of your business.” I hadn’t planned on talking, but that definitely needed to be said.
“It’s not, but I needed to tell you anyway. I’m not blind. I see there’s something between you two. You need to understand that, at heart, he’s more beast than man. He’s got an untamed savage in him, and you need to realize that before you decide to get any deeper.”
“Nice way to talk about your friend.” He was lucky I didn’t have one of those dinner knives with me, or I might’ve stabbed him with it. Some friend he was.
“This isn’t a betrayal. He’d tell you himself.” He smiled like I hadn’t pretty much called him an asshole.
I stood, anger burning away any fear of getting too close to this man in the middle of the night. “Let me tell you something: he’s no more savage than I am.”
Dax let out a short, soft laugh. “You know, you really do remind me of my wife. If my daughter had lived, she might’ve been a little like you.”
But I wasn’t his daughter. I hadn’t had a father who gave a fuck; I’d had a jailer who tortured me. Sitting here waffling about things that could’ve been didn’t do anyone any good.
I nodded and then walked inside. The cost of fresh air was getting too steep.
* * *
Callon walked into the bedroom an hour or so later, bringing with him the smell of the forest and all things wild. Red tinted his eyes as the beast clung to him, not ready to be forgotten.
I turned, giving him my back as I burrowed under the covers a little farther. The mattress dipped as he stretched out beside me.
He pulled me to him until my back was to his chest and his arm was around my waist.
I shoved away from him. “I don’t need you to—”
He pulled me back to his chest. “I’m not embarrassed of you.”
I stopped moving.
“I would never be embarrassed of you,” he said.
I nodded, once again afraid to speak for fear of what stupid thing I might say. Or worse, he’d hear my voice crack. What he thought shouldn’t matter. I kept telling myself that, hoping I’d believe it soon.
Twenty-Two
Callon was already up and gone before I got up. I could hear the din of the full house as I made my way to the stairs. I paused halfway down and peeked over the banister to see a line of people extending from the front to the back. I turned around and walked back up the steps. I didn’t like people more than I liked the food. It was too early to be surrounded by this many of them.
I was curled up on the window seat a half an hour later when the door opened. Callon walked in and held out a biscuit with several pieces of bacon shoved in between the two halves. This was something different.
“I wasn’t hungry,” I said.
“Eat it. You’ll need it. Bitters is back. We’re going to go talk to him as soon as the house clears out.”
I took the biscuit. Was this a Southern thing? Or had they run out of other foods?
“Dal made it for you. She’s got a thing for bacon.”
I took a bite. The bacon wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t hot either. She’d made it a bit ago. He hadn’t wanted to bring it to me, but now here Callon was, a shoulder leaning against the window, bringing me food, waiting to take me to Bitters to solve my problems.
I wanted to be mad at this man, but the truth was that I didn’t know if I had the right anymore. Somehow that made me even angrier, because that was what I did when I was helpless. But I couldn’t this time.
I took another bite of my cold bacon sandwich and leaned my head back, watching Callon not watching me. He stared out at the field beyond the window, probably wondering how he’d gotten to this place as well.
> “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for trying to protect my privacy.” That was the hardest sorry I’d ever said. Truth was that I’d only said sorry a handful of times in my life. I hadn’t been in a position to cause harm to many people until recently, and if I had, they’d had it coming.
His eyes shifted to mine. “You’re a little fucked up. It’s okay. I get it.”
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t talk past the lump that had formed, which had nothing to do with the biscuit being dry and the bacon being cold. I hadn’t completely believed him yesterday, but I did now. He wasn’t embarrassed of me. But I hadn’t believed him because I was. My past was an embarrassment, and I wore it like a shield, so used to people shunning me that I pushed most of them away first.
I ate the last of my biscuit and bacon in silence.
When Callon turned his head slightly toward the door, it was showtime.
“They’re ready for us,” he said.
I got up from the seat while he went and took the jarred sample off the dresser.
I paused before the door, taking a few slow breaths. “Even if he can’t help with that,” I said, pointing at the jar, “he might still be able to remove the spell. At least it won’t be your problem then.”
I wouldn’t have to stay at the lodge, either fearing for my life or waiting for its destruction. Tuesday wouldn’t take it well. I’d have to leave like a thief in the middle of the night and leave her a note. She’d follow me otherwise.
Callon flattened his hand on the door. “Bitters can’t do that.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Dax already asked him this morning. He won’t deal in death spells.”
I should’ve been more disappointed than I felt. Maybe I would’ve been if I’d thought Callon was telling me the truth, but I didn’t. He seemed too determined to squash it. Why wouldn’t he ask Bitters himself? But that didn’t make sense either. Why wouldn’t Callon want the spell severed?
“That sucks, but I guess we’re stuck,” I said with a shrug. Bullshitter. We weren’t stuck at all. I’d be asking Bitters myself before we left.
Dal was waiting for us downstairs. “Dax is already down there filling Bitters in on some of the details,” she said, walking to a door at the underside of the staircase. “Don’t mind the smell. It’s the special blend of tobacco he likes to smoke. It’s safe—ish. Mostly safe? You might get hungry, but no lasting damage.”
Dal opened the door and disappeared. I took a last deep breath of fresh air before I followed her into the haze. Callon was right behind me, but I knew he would be. He always was.
The basement didn’t look like it belonged to the rest of the house, and it had nothing to do with the stone walls. The place was piled with scrolls and papers. Books were heaped high in front of and on top of the furniture. Stacks also climbed the walls. The only surface that wasn’t totally covered was a bed, and even that had some scrolls scattered upon it.
Dax stood in the far corner of the room beside a man who looked well beyond the grave. Bitters turned with a pep in his step that didn’t match the crumpled paper skin.
“So this be the girl?” he asked. His voice sounded younger as well. He walked toward me, taking a puff of the pipe in his hand. A foul-smelling smoke filled the air in between us, adding to the thick haze.
I wasn’t sure if it was this place, these people, or me, but this was the second normal human I couldn’t get a read on. My hunch was that it was the people. They were too odd, like flipping open a book in a language you didn’t know.
Callon moved around me, jar in hand. “This is the reason we’re here.”
Bitters put his burning pipe down on a stack of papers. Dax quickly picked it back up and put it on a metal plate before the place went up in smoke.
Bitters took the jar in his free hand and gave it a shake. He made a huffing noise. “How am I supposed to tell you like this?”
He cracked the wax seal before anyone could stop him and stuck his nose in the jar.
“That stuff ate a person,” Callon reminded him, although I was fairly certain he’d already been warned.
Bitters didn’t pull his nose from the jar until after he’d taken a really long sniff. “Smells a little foul, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”
I watched as the stuff was climbing the side of the jar, looking for an escape.
“It ate the Magician,” Callon said.
Bitters held up the jar, looking at it again, but without any urgency or alarm. He lowered it. “It’ll be okay.”
Dax and Dal were hanging back, staying out of the conversation. Couldn’t say I blamed them. Dax was the one who’d said to come out here. We’d traveled days and the guy was a nut.
Callon’s chest expanded and then slowly deflated before he asked, “Do you know what the stuff is?”
Bitters dipped his finger into the sludge. I took a step back and heard a gasp come from Dal. Then we all stared in horror as he licked the stuff off his finger.
“It’s some sort of magic, that’s for certain. Can’t say as it’s good or bad, but then, I guess good and bad depends on which side you’re playing for, right?” He laughed, screwed the lid on, and handed the jar back to Callon, who was speechless.
I inched forward, waiting to see if Bitters was going to die. If he was, I couldn’t see it. Maybe it had been too little? Maybe he’d die in his sleep? What I did know was that I needed whatever information I could get from this man before he went belly up and I did the same shortly after.
I stepped around Callon, who was partially blocking me. “You might not think that this stuff, which swallowed one of the scariest men I’ve ever met, is a problem. But it doesn’t want you. It wants me. It’s trying to get to me, and I need to know why.”
“I can see that,” Bitters said, motioning to the jar in Callon’s hand and the sludge that kept relocating itself toward my position in the room. “Come closer and let’s have a look. I’ll try to see if I can figure out why.”
I glanced at Callon. He ran a hand through his hair, as if to say we had nothing else to try.
Bitters walked to a spot in the corner, the only place that had two chairs that weren’t piled high with papers and bottles. They only had a couple of sheets of paper each.
Callon, Dax, and Dal slowly crowded in around us, leaving only enough room to not trip over us.
I sat in the chair opposite Bitters as he looked around until he found a large piece of curved glass.
“I have to say, the moment you stepped into the room, I’ve wanted to get a good look at you.” He brought the glass to his eye and then leaned in close to my face.
“Why is that?” I asked, trying not to lean away from him. I’d asked him for answers. I’d have to sit through his exam.
“You’ve got an odd glow about you that I can’t quite put my finger on. I know I’ve seen it before, but I can’t remember who from. It’ll come to me, though. It always does. This old brain forgets nothing, even the shit I want it to.”
“Do you think this glow is what’s driving the sludge toward me?”
“It’s not only the glow. You’ve got a strange feel about you too. An odd type of magic. Where’d you say you were from?” He took his fingers and opened my eye wider.
“My mother was a Plaguer. That’s where I get my magic.”
“You have the feeling of human, but not entirely.” He was staring into my one eye as if it opened up into my soul.
Bitters leaned back, and his eyes rested beyond my right shoulder. “There’s some sort of something here. I can feel it.”
“Do you think it might be the Death Spell? Callon said you didn’t—”
“He doesn’t deal in them,” Callon said, shaking his head, as if I’d said something drastically wrong to Bitters.
Bitters didn’t pay me any mind, ignoring my question completely. Maybe Callon hadn’t lied?
Suddenly, Bitters jumped out of his seat. “Wait! I know what to do.”
> He was telling us all to wait as if we weren’t sitting here hanging on his every word. Where did he think we were going? He was my last chance at answers because no one else had any. I wouldn’t be leaving until I got them.
He began rifling through tubes and papers, which created an avalanche at his feet. He continued undaunted.
“I got it!” Bitters held up a bag of what looked like salt.
He grabbed a long oval dish full of ashes, then turned it over and dumped it on the floor. Dal was whacking at Dax’s arm and pointing. Dax gave a shrug, as if he couldn’t do anything with him.
“We incurred a debt,” Dax said softly.
“How long is it going to take to get paid?” Dal asked.
Dax shrugged.
I lost interest in their domestic squabble as Bitters dumped the white grains onto the empty plate. He made two small piles before motioning to me. “I need blood. Not much. Just a couple drops.”
I turned to Callon, who was staring down the old wizard as if he’d asked me to slit my wrists. I ignored the expression and put my hand out. “I need your blade. Mine is dirty.” Mine was always dirty.
“A lot of things can be done with a person’s blood,” Callon said, as he continued to stare at Bitters.
“I vouch for him,” Dax said. “He’s crazy, a complete slob, nearly burned the house down five times already, but he’s loyal.”
I kept my hand out. “This is why we came. If he can give us answers, I’m not leaving without trying everything.”
Callon didn’t budge, and neither did I. The tendons in his neck were strung a little too tight, the line of his mouth too straight, and there was that flare in his eyes. It didn’t matter.
“Fine. I’ll use my dirty one,” I said.
There was a small move of his head to the right. I was fairly certain if we’d been alone it would’ve been a full shake and his eyes would’ve rolled skyward.
He drew out his dagger. “Give me your hand. You can’t cut for shit, and unlike your knife, mine’s sharp.”
I gladly did. He was right. I was klutzy with a knife. I had a scar from when I’d helped Issy peel potatoes.
Savage One: Born Wild Book Two Page 14