The Soother (16 page)

He chuckled, the sound almost brittle.

Something was wrong. Calliope eased back. “What is it?”

“I need to feed.”

“Oh.” She blew out a breath. Untwining her legs, she tried to slide to the ground. Krystoff’s arms held tight, locking her against his hard body. He appeared dazed, like a man lost in a city of mirrors and corners. “How can I help? Other than the obvious, that is?” This was dangerous territory and Calliope knew she had to tread carefully.

“I need to hunt.”

Hunt. Holy Mother.
Okay. She could do this. Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Again. “Then we’ll hunt. Together,” she said, nudging his cheek with her knuckles.

Krystoff blinked, studied her. “You won’t like what you see.”

“I can handle it.”

He shook his head and then lowered her to the ground. Her feet touched down softly.

Calliope reached up, slid her hand across his cheek, lingered there. “You told me to look deeper. I can only see what you’re willing to show me.”

Jaw tight, he stared at her, his grey eyes almost completely coated in silver. The next few moments would be a game-changer. Was she ready?
Yes
, she thought to herself.

She swallowed. “You asked me once if I trusted you. I now ask the same of you.”

“So be it. We will hunt.”

Ever mindful of Calliope’s beating heart — the pulsing rhythm an alluringly hypnotic metronome — Krystoff crouched, Calliope on his right, and surveyed the area for prey. The pickings weren’t nearly as abundant on the mountain, and at this point, any animal would do. Patience was the key. Followed closely by speed. He had both in spades.

As time passed, he began to question himself more and more. The only excuse he could come up with for his poor judgment was that the shadows must have begun furrowing in his brain. Although his mental demise was inevitable, it still soured his gut. If not insanity, why else would he have invited Calliope to help him hunt?
Because she’d insisted in that pushy way of hers I’ve grown to love,
he thought to himself. He could have refused. He hadn’t. Krystoff wanted her to know him. No other, aside from Scout, had ever taken the time to care. Either that or he hadn’t allowed them to get close … not in a very long time, anyway. Which is why Scout’s betrayal had him ready to kill.

Early on, he’d realized his family and friends had only reached out because they’d needed — or more likely wanted — something he had. Or thought he had, which had been the catalyst for his desire to learn. While others had caroused and concocted, Krystoff had cultivated his magick, nurturing the art and studying all the elements required to become a master at his craft.

That he’d lost his soul in the process had seemed a small price to pay. Now he had more power than ever and he wasn’t willing to share with anyone.

“Is it always this hard to find blood?” Calliope whispered.

And then Calliope had saved him and he wanted to use his power to give her the world. Krystoff skimmed a thumb along the pulsing vein in Calliope’s neck. “Not hard at all. But since you’re not willing,” he said with a shrug, “I’ve got to settle. And settling means waiting. You can go back if you’d like, rest up for tomorrow. There really is no need for you to be here.” Telling her how much he needed her to stay — correction — needed
her
, would only amplify his agony.

Calliope ducked her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. It’s — ”

“You don’t have to explain, Calliope.” Leaves rustled beneath his feet.

“Yes, I do.” Calliope said, placing her hand on his arm and clutching his sleeve.

Even through his sweater, the heat of her touch seared him. His shadows shifted behind him like shimmering clouds signaling an impending storm. They wanted to feel her, too. Now was definitely not the time for that.
Soon
.

“I’m more than a little intrigued by the thought.”

Krsytoff clenched his jaw to keep his fangs from showing. They’d jutted down the moment she’d uttered the word
intrigued
. “Are you afraid?”

Brows drawn, she said, “Yes, but probably not for the reason you’re thinking. I’m not afraid you’ll kill me. Not in the literal sense anyway. What I’m afraid of is losing myself.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Nor do I know if I can explain it properly. I’ve only recently figured it out for myself.” Calliope fingered the zipper of her jacket.

“Will you at least try?” he asked, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.

She nodded. “I’ll try. It won’t paint me in a good light. But it is what it is. I can’t help the way I feel. Anyway,” she said with a slight tilt of her head, “because of what I am — ”

“A witch?”

“Yes and no. In my coven, each of us has a specialty magick. I’ve never questioned mine. As I said before, I know who I am. I’m a soother. Which basically means everyone else’s health and state of mind comes before mine. I’m not complaining. I love what I do. I honestly wouldn’t know what to do if I couldn’t help people. I’m very blessed to have been chosen for this particular magickal gift. But … ”

Krystoff encouraged her to continue by lacing his fingers through her, his mind swirling with emotions. She spoke calmly, which only added to the intensity of the moment. With the moonlight breaking through the clouds, Krystoff saw a trace of pink coloring her cheeks. “What is it?”

“It’s just that at the end of the day, there’s not much left of me for
me
,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“But your blood is your own.”

Calliope gave a tight nod. “It is.”

“And if I take it, there will be even less of you to go around?” That thought tugged one end of the rope while his cravings held tight to the other end. The red flag blowing in the middle taunted like the devil.

“That, and if I gave it to you willingly, I’d essentially be casting any self-worth I have to the wolves.”

“Leaving you with nothing,” he deduced.

“Exactly. I can’t live with nothing.”

“Nor would I ever want you to,” he stated truthfully. Which meant he had to come up with a way to help her. One she would either accept or learn to accept. Leaving was no longer an option. He’d stand and fight with her and her coven. When it was over, Krystoff had no doubt he would then fight for her. If she’d let him, he’d show her things she’d never imagined possible. “Come here.”

Krystoff tugged Calliope into his lap and held her close. Her weighty breath equaled his own. The conversation had taken its toll, but he was glad Calliope had confided in him. The not-so-distant future held a plethora of tasks. Three screamed their importance: Fight Riona (and win), find a way to make Calliope stronger, begin the search for Scout and therefore his soul. Once they’d succeeded, they’d sit down and have another important conversation. This one would involve forever. Or until his shadows took over. Whichever came first.

After giving Calliope a quick squeeze, he picked her up and gently deposited her to the ground. “Stay right here. No matter what you see, stay here.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I’m letting you keep your blood.”
For now
.

Using his staff, Krystoff traced a circle in the dirt. He took in a controlled breath in deference to the element of air. Eyes on Calliope, he pricked his wrist with a fang and then used his dripping blood to create a five pointed star within the circle. As he’d instructed, Calliope didn’t move, though her eyes had widened at the first sight of his blood. Krystoff stood in the center and pointed his staff at the sky, then banged one end against the earth four times, another show of respect. Water came in the form of a chilled drizzle. Only one element to go. Palm up, he conjured fire. The flames licked at his skin but never burned. Krystoff blew the fire out and then lifted a hand to squelch the rain. Now, he held a finger to his lips and smiled.

Two rabbits hopped to the edge of the circle, noses twitching curiously. Krystoff reached down and grabbed them both by the scruff with one hand, his motions a blur.

Calliope gasped, but otherwise said nothing. Her gaze flitted toward the trees. His did the same. There, about mid-way up, perched his owl. Krystoff nodded his head, looked at Calliope again and then turned his back. Breathing deeply, his fangs shot through the fur and into a vein. He drained one rabbit in about a minute. The second took even less time. His hunger pangs dulled, but didn’t disappear. He had a feeling no blood, other than Calliope’s, would ever truly quench his thirst.

Though he was never sloppy, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before turning around.

“Are they dead?” she asked, her voice steady, her eyes void of emotion.

“Momentarily. Give me a moment.” Krystoff stepped out of his circle and laid the limp rabbits on the ground. This time, he pricked his finger. One bright red bead formed and then another, sliding down his finger like overflowing lava. He bent and placed a drop of his blood inside each rabbit’s mouth. He straightened. “My friend needs a name.”

“Your friend?” Calliope asked, fists clenched at her sides.

“The owl,” he said, indicating the direction with a tilt of his head. “He found me recently. I think he may be my guardian. Either way, he needs a name.”

The rabbits jerked a few times before jumping up and dashing off, both stronger than they were minutes ago. Krystoff watched them for a moment, and then lost sight as they dove into the brush.

“You saved them. You didn’t have to.”

“No. I didn’t have to, but I don’t think you or the owl would have had it any other way.”

Calliope swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to watch him feed. In truth, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of him. She’d been fixated. Even if he hadn’t told her to stay put, she would have been rooted to the earth, linked in a very unexpected way. Krystoff had turned away from her in an attempt to shield his actions, but not enough that she hadn’t noticed his strong jaw, the pull of his lips, the invisible caress on her neck. Her fingers lingered there now, idly touching the sensitive spot just below her ear. That she hadn’t been completely grossed out spoke volumes. The word
disturbed
was more apropos.

Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she really didn’t know who she was. Blood magick was at work here. She should have ran, stopped it, done something. Anything other than what she’d done, which was nothing but stare like a gawking rubbernecker — a very affected and tempted voyeur.

Krystoff’s guardian — an incredibly beautiful owl — watched over him now, gold eyes shining like crackling fire in the dark of the night. The owl’s grey feathers were the exact color of Krystoff’s stormy eyes. The two shared some sort of a bond. That much was obvious. Calliope knew once formed, those type of bonds were for a lifetime. “The rabbits seemed different. After … you know.”
Grow up, Calli. Spit it out
, she thought to herself.

Krystoff offered his hand. When she begrudgingly accepted, he pulled her to her feet. “After I resuscitated them,” he finished for her. “They are different. Still rabbits, just slightly augmented.” He spun his staff absently.

Calliope refused to be deterred by his fascinating finger work. The staff was spinning faster now, like a windmill in a hurricane. She dragged her gaze away. “You altered who they are. What they’re meant to be.” It was one thing to use the rabbit for food. It was quite another to
augment
a being. “Do they feel different?” Her tone was accusatory and she didn’t care. What Krystoff had done was wrong. It was as plain and as simple as that.

“Hard to say. If I had to take a guess, I’d say they feel stronger.” His fingers slowed until the staff stopped spinning. “Probably a bit closer to invincible.”

Krystoff had tampered with nature. Sure he’d paid homage to the elements while doing it, but he’d tampered nonetheless. That didn’t sit well with her. Creatures of all kinds were created by a higher being, and he’d acted like he was a notch above, using blood magick to not only give back life, but to change their very essence. “Is that how you feel? Invincible?”

He tipped her head up with a light finger under her chin. He gave her a hard, intimate stare. “Not anymore.”

Before Calliope could respond — and boy, did she want to respond — Isabelle broke through the trees, skidding on her heels when she spotted them. “Geez. I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys.”

“What’s wrong?” Krystoff and Calliope asked simultaneously.

“Ambra just spoke. She called out for you, Calli.”

Calliope didn’t hesitate. She pounded dirt as fast as she could, her feet barely touching the ground. When she hit camp, she tore through the crowd gathered around her mother, shoving witches out of her way. Once they realized she was there, the witches moved back, offering Calliope an unobstructed path. By the time she made it to the front of the pack, Krystoff and Isabelle on her heels, she could barely breathe.

Ambra stood, Tia on one side, a giant oak on the other. Her eyes were vibrant and full of life, red hair swaying like flames in a hearth. Calliope blinked, heart stuttering the Morse code of distress. Ambra smiled, held out a hand. Calliope rushed into her arms, nearly causing them both to topple. Ambra embraced her with a strength that spoke of love and health. Calliope held tight, relishing the warmth of her mother’s arms.

Much as Calliope wished it, the tranquility of the reunion couldn’t last forever. Questions danced on the tip of her tongue until she could no longer contain them. Calliope stepped back. “Why? How?” Not her most eloquent moment. She mentally shrugged. She’d like to see someone else handle the situation better.

“This darling girl,” she said, pointing to a beaming Isabelle, “said you needed me.”

Emotion clogged Calliope’s throat, making her attempts to swallow a struggle. Ambra’s voice hadn’t changed a bit. How did someone not speak a word for so long and then have a voice as crystal clear as the tinkling notes of a grand piano? “You’re back?”

“Yes, Calliope. I’ve been away for a while. I really hadn’t meant to be gone for so long. I’m sorry about that.” She lifted her chin. “I’m here now and Tia tells me we have a bit of a problem on our hands. I’m assuming it has something to do with the shadowed man behind you?” Ambra’s brow rose in question.