Page 96 of Deadly Lineage
My new perspective gave me a better view of the circle drawn on the floor. It was weird seeing it from this angle. It had looked so clear when I was slumped, head up. Now I could see the imperfections, the little flecks of red that raised off the brick and threatened to scuff away.
An idea took root. While I didn’t have a lot of energy, I could wiggle my body a little. My tennis shoe-clad feet hit a section of outer sigils. Shifting my foot back and forth, I hoped I managed to wipe some of it away. I inwardly snickered while thinking that McCallister definitely wouldn’t think this wasgoodbehavior. No, this was bad. This was definitely bad, and I was more than happy to flip to the dark side.
“A decent idea, but I’m afraid it’s pointless.” McCallister’s words hummed with humor. “The top layer is only there to give me visual assistance. The sigils are permanently burned into the bricks with a combination of my blood and other, more flammable ingredients. I’m afraid you’re just wearing yourself out. But if it’s making you feel better, then by all means, continue.”
My feet stuttered to a stop. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my body righted again and soon gave up. Lying on my side was it and I’d just have to accept the fact. Given my unique perspective, I could only make out McCallister’s dress shoes as he walked back and forth through the room. Humming met my ears and I realized it was McCallister. He appeared to be in a good mood, and anything that made him happy immediately raised the hair on the back of my neck.
“Your father will be here soon. This place is heavily warded, and I felt the tug when he scried for your whereabouts. I could have blocked him. I’m capable of that, you know,” McCallister bragged. “I wasn’t before I took Rebecca and Phineas’s abilities. It’s a shame that warlocks and witches can’t put their pasts behind them. If they chose to work together… Hmm, let’s just say that Fairy would not be pleased.”
Yeah, speaking of Fairy… “What do you think the fairies will do when they find out what you’ve done?” It was a rhetorical question. We both knew what they’d do, and it wouldn’t end with McCallister enjoying a long life.
“The question is pointless. They don’t know and they never will. And even if they do, by the time they figure it out, I’ll be too powerful for them to stop.”
“Pretty confident about that.”
“No reason not to be,” McCallister easily answered. “Captain Cicely couldn’t even get the Magical Usage Council interested in this case. I doubt they’d have better luck with Fairy.”
I kind of hated how right he was. Still, fairies didn’t like others flagrantly breaking their laws. That kind of thing pissed them off, and pissing off fairies wasn’t a way to stay alive.
I wanted to pound my head against the brick floor. Why hadn’t I thought to ask Aurelia to do that? I could think of a couple of fairies that Aurelia could have gone to that would have enjoyed taking McCallister down a notch or ten.
“I’ve never met your father. What’s he like?” McCallister asked calmly.
“He’s an arrogant, powerful warlock that loves his son. What do you think he’s going to be like? Oh, he’s also vindictive. I forgot to mention that part, but it seems like it might be important right about now.”
McCallister laughed. “You’re far more entertaining than I thought you’d be. I almost hate to kill you. Almost,” he finished with a chuckle. “But needs must.” McCallister sighed. “I’m afraid you know far too much. Depending on how things go, I may make it easy on you. I’ve still got the gun I finished Bart Livingston off with. That would be quick. I’m not sure about painless, but I believe it would be better than ripping your body to shreds. After taking your father’s abilities, I’ll also be too tired to do much more than put a bullet in you.”
My limited view of the floor didn’t allow me to see McCallister’s facial expressions, but I could envision them well enough. The casually callous, indifferent way he spoke of my death made his thoughts on the matter crystal clear. I was nomore than a stepping stone in his batshit crazy ladder. Pops was the true prize.
McCallister’s shuffling feet stopped and he let loose an excited squeal. “He’s here. Best get ready to greet him. It’s a rare occasion, standing in the same room with a warlock of Nikodemus Holland’s caliber.”
Dear Gaia, the hero worship in his voice made me feel more ill than before. How was that even possible?
“Time to sit up and play bait properly. I wouldn’t want your father thinking I’ve already done away with you, what with you lying there looking all pathetic.”
McCallister’s shoes came back into view, along with his slacks. Fingers gripped my shoulders and hauled me back into a sitting position. A fresh wave of nausea churned my stomach as the room spun. Closing my eyes didn’t help much, but it did allow me to keep all my stomach contents carefully contained.
A groan slipped through my lips and McCallister’s breath tickled my ear as he whispered, “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.”
My heart raced. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted… Gaia, I wanted to be back at home, Franklin’s arms wrapped around me and a glass of sweet tea in my hand. I wanted Pops sitting on the porch with us, Momma sitting opposite as she fussed and grinned about how sweet Franklin and I looked together. It was a beautiful picture. It was a vision I feared would never come to fruition.
“Almost here.” McCallister sounded giddy with anticipation.
Dread filled me. Had Aurelia come through? Did Pops know what he was walking into? Could he know, even with Aurelia’s warning? I wasn’t certain how the circle on the floor worked, only that I’d seen the evidence thatsomethingMorgan McCallister did had been successful. He’d been careful before—choosing victims who wouldn’t be missed. Pops was different. I was different. Clearly McCallister no longer feared discovery.
The basement door didn’t creak open; it exploded, splintering. Those splinters were contained within a protective barrier. If I hadn’t been inside, Pops would have let them fly, hoping they hit a fleshy target.
The absent door left Pops standing there in all his warlock fury. Gaia, he was impressive. He was also livid. I’d never seen Pops’s eyes like that—cold and packed full of venom. His tall, broad figure took up the entire doorway, but it wasn’t his physical presence that sent the hairs on the back of my neck standing. It was the power radiating off him.
Pops’s eyes quickly scanned the room, racing back to me, narrowing on the individual holding a gun to my temple. At least, I figured that was the cold metal I felt pressing against my flesh. All his ill-gotten power, and McCallister still relied on human weaponry. The disgusted look on Pops’s face said loud and clear what he thought of the gun.
McCallister’s breathing increased, but I doubted it was due to fear. The man had a real hard-on when it came to Pops, and when he spoke, his words were breathy with excitement. “Warlock Holland, how nice of you to—”
“Release my son.” Pops’s deep voice echoed through the room, reverberating through my brain and inadvertently making my headache worse.
“All in good time. First I’d like to—”
“Erasmus, are you injured?” Pops ignored McCallister, treating him as if he were insignificant.
