Page 78 of Dead End

That’s it… The athame. Ichabod’s doing blood magic.

Holy shit, this was bad. I’d read about blood magic after the aunties kept dropping hints about it. It was dark stuff, even darker than necromancy. It was forbidden in the witch and warlock communities and considered taboo for thousands of years.

“Why are you doing this, Ichabod?” I asked. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, can’t you at least tell me what I’ll be dying for?”

He faced me with a confused expression. My body was racked with shivers at the gleam in his eyes. “Would you like me to give you the big villainous play-by-play so you can somehow figure out a way to pull a miracle out of nowhere and thwart me? How very mortal of you.” He laughed madly. “I don’t think so, Miss Hallowell. Now sit tight. You’ll be dead shortly.”

“You’re disgusting,” I snapped, my breathing shallow because this was it—the end. I’d just found love again, and I was going to die without telling each of my guys how much they truly meant to me.

Ichabod ignored me, instead turning his attention first to the moons and then to Cal. “Now, Calvin,” he demanded.

I watched Cal’s entire body stiffen. He came towards me with dread in his dark eyes and approached the bars with the athame in his hands. “Give me your palm,” he said, hardly able to look me in the eyes, the coward.

“Go to hell!” I whispered hoarsely past the lump in my throat.

“October…” His voice lowered to a whisper, and his suddenly panicked eyes flickered to where his father had his back to us, preparing for the ritual. “I’m going to get you out of this,” he promised, his eyes unyielding and hard.

I blinked, not comprehending. Was this a joke?

His voice lowered even more as he said, “I sent someone to get your friends, but I can’t stall my father for much longer.”

“I don’t believe you,” I sneered. “You kidnapped me, you prick. Who does that?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” His jaw was clenched tight, but his eyes flickered nervously at his father again. “October, I don’t have time to explain, but I’m so sorry for my role in this. I’m going to help you. He’s got this sick obsession with—” He stopped nervously.

“With what, Cal? What the hell is he trying to do?”

His face dropped, and my stomach clenched as he said, “He’s trying to raise your mother from her grave.”

Every muscle in my body was locked up. The world seemed to go silent as a cold fury seeped through me. He wanted to raise my mother. She’s been dead for a year. There wasn’t much left by now to even raise. This man was truly sick.

Cal kept going. “He’s convinced the only reason she chose David was because he used his powers to force her. He actually believes she would have chosen him. It’s a fucking obsession, but he can only bring her back with the blood of a necromancer. It’s the only way to complete the ritual during an eclipse.”

“If all this is true, why would you want to help me? What do you get out of going against your own dad for someone you barely even know?” I was stalling, pulling at the last thread of hope.

He sighed heavily. “Believe it or not, I do have a fucking conscience. He’s had me going along with this shit since you got here, and I’ve done my best to throw him off, but he’d kill me if he found out.” His eyes held mine, and I could see the truth.

His father was a psychopath, and Cal had been at the end of that for who knows how long. I almost felt bad.

“Where are the guys and Maddie? What about my aunties?” I asked, needing to know if they were safe at least.

“Hopefully on their way. I sent someone to get them, but he’s a little dumb.” He cringed, biting his lip worriedly.

“Oh, my fucking god,” I groaned. “You’re talking about that freaky marionette dummy, Roger, aren't you? I can’t believe this shit is happening.”

“Give me your hand before he gets suspicious.”

“I’m not handing over my blood, Calvin. Fuck off.” The fucker didn’t deserve a nickname, so calling him by his name seemed appropriate.

He shook his head. “I’m not going to use your blood, but I need to make it look like I am. Give me your hand.”

I contemplated it for a moment. I wasn’t sure I could trust him. I wanted to, but after kidnapping me and letting his father place me in this cage... But what choice did I have? I held my palm against the iron bars. They were just wide enough to get my hand through, and Cal grasped my wrist gently. Using his body to cover us, I watched him slip a little pocket knife from his sleeve and make a slit in my palm. I winced and yanked my hand back.

Cal pocketed the knife and held the athame out in front of him, pulling up his own sleeve and making a slit in his forearm. The athame was bathed in Cal’s own blood as I watched with wide eyes. He winced as he put his sleeve back into place to cover up the cut, and then he met my eyes.

“I’m sorry for my part... I don’t want to see you get hurt. My dad’s not been right in the head for a while now, and he’s deluded himself into thinking your mom can come back. I just can’t stop him alone.” He pleaded with me to understand, and in a way, I kind of did. Family was family, and you couldn’t help who you cared about.

“You should have told me a long time ago, Calvin,” I gritted out, peeved about all the lies, but at least he was helping me now. “Just stall him until everyone gets here. Please.”

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