Carnival of Souls

CHAPTER 28

ALMOST A FULL DAY later, Kaleb stood outside Mallory’s house. It was so late in the day that he should be able to meet with Adam. By daimon law — and by witch law — Mallory was Kaleb’s now to do with as he wanted. The witches couldn’t support Adam without going against their own laws. Adam, of course, could kill him, but that would kill or injure Mallory. There were ways to dissolve the matrimonial bond, but not easily and not without risk. Kaleb hoped that they could avoid conflict; he didn’t relish the thought of quarreling with Mallory’s stepfather. A more likely scenario was that Adam would take Mallory and run, but since Kaleb was married to her and because she was pack, he’d be able to find her anywhere. Adam had no legal way to deny Kaleb’s rights. If she were a witch or a human, it would be different, but she was a daimon. Mallory was Kaleb’s to command.

He knocked on the door of Mallory’s house. This time the wards pulsed against him. The sensation of insects biting him from head to toe was only a warning, a discomfort to remind him that this was a protected house. For anyone not permitted entry, crossing the protection over the boundary would be fatal, but Mallory didn’t need to invite him now that he was her spouse: they were bound as if they were one entity. Where she was, he could enter.

First, try to talk to the witch.

When the door opened, though, it was not Adam. Mallory stood there. She was partially blocked by the doorframe. Kaleb knew by her expression of barely contained anger that she knew what he was, but she didn’t slam the door in his face. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“You aren’t welcome here.”

“Why?” Kaleb prompted quietly. There was no way to stop this conversation, despite the horror he saw in her eyes. She knew a lot more than he’d thought when they’d met — and all of it influenced by witches.

“Because you’re a daimon,” she said.

“I am.” Kaleb debated crossing the threshold, but he thought it wiser to wait. “He raised you to hate us. I understand that. Witches and daimons have a long history of hatred, but we’re not all bad — neither are witches.”

“Your kind killed his family. They… you are why we run.” She looked directly at him as she moved her hand from behind the doorframe so that he could see that she held a gun, a matte black thing that he knew had more than enough bullets to kill him. She offered him a smile that was reminiscent of the one Adam had worn when he tortured Kaleb. “Adam and I just want to live in peace. I won’t let you hurt him. It’s bad enough that I let you into our home. Don’t think I’ll let you hurt him.”

“I don’t want to hurt Adam.” Kaleb didn’t back away.

She lifted the gun so it was pointed at his chest. “Have you seen him?”

“No.” Kaleb winced inwardly at the alarm in her voice. The old witch wasn’t there, which, on one hand, was great, but on the other hand could mean trouble. Now that Kaleb had married Mallory, the protection the witch had had from Marchosias himself was gone. Marchosias was a lot of things, but he adhered to law. If the law declared Mallory Adam’s child until she was eighteen, Marchosias wouldn’t come to retrieve her until her eighteenth birthday. He might exploit a loophole — by allowing Kaleb to marry her — but he wouldn’t break the law outright. Now that Mallory had been given into Kaleb’s possession, Adam was just a witch without reason to live. None of which Kaleb wanted to explain to Mallory.

“Did you hurt him?” she prompted.

“No. I’m here because of you, because I care for you.” He stared at her, looking for the flicker of relaxation that would let him take the weapon. He didn’t want to frighten her. He had hopes that she’d never see him the way he was in the fights. “I’m not here to hurt you or Adam. I swear it.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Kaleb kept his gaze fastened on her. “I haven’t lied about the important things. I just couldn’t tell you everything.”

“I’m sick of everyone keeping things from me,” Mallory muttered.

The secrets Kaleb had kept from her weren’t any worse than the ones Adam had kept — up until now. The temptation to tell her that they were wed vied with the reality that Mallory was apt to run from him if he told her that detail. Silently, he vowed to them both that once they got past these secrets, he wouldn’t keep anything from her. He simply couldn’t tell her everything all at once, especially when she was already upset. For now, all he said was, “I will answer questions, as many as I can.”

“What was that woman? The one with the birds and the ashes?”

“Watcher,” he said softly. “She’s called a Watcher.”

“They’re a sort of daimon,” she half asked, half stated.

He nodded.

“And she was here because of me?”

“Yes,” he said. “Others will come too. I’m here to protect you; I’ll stay by your side through any threat.”

Her shoulders went back, and she stared at him. “I have spent years training, and there are…” Her words faded.

“Wards,” he completed. “Adam is a witch who has warded the house.”

“That means you can’t come in.” Mallory swallowed nervously and lowered the gun a fraction — which was all he needed. He caught her wrist with one hand, forcing her arm upward so that if she did squeeze the trigger, she’d be firing into the air. At the same time, he stepped into her house and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He held her firmly against him and walked forward, using his larger size and momentum to propel her.

He caught the door with his foot and shoved it closed.

The gun was now aimed at her ceiling, and she struggled in his grip, but they weren’t standing exposed to any passerby who could see her weapon aimed at his chest.

“Actually, I can come in,” he said. “It’s better to have this conversation inside, and it’s easier to protect you.”

She wasn’t listening though. Her free hand was hitting and clawing at his face. At the same time, she pulled her knee up as hard as she could. He grunted in pain, but he didn’t release his hold.

“Let go,” she demanded.

“I need you to listen, Mallory.”

“Let me go.” She went limp, using her weight to try to throw him off-balance since he wasn’t responding to her attempts to tug away or to her striking him.

“Stop.” Kaleb growled this time.

At the sound of his very not-human growl, Mallory froze. She stayed completely still in his grasp. “I don’t know where it is, but if you tell me what he took, I might be able to help you get it, and then you can give it to them, and—”

“I know what he took,” Kaleb interrupted. “I’m not going to give— I’m not here to help someone else, Mallory. I’m here for you. I meant it when I said I would stand beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m telling you the truth.” Kaleb kissed her chastely.

Her lips were motionless under his, and he had to remind himself that they had a connection even if she was denying it. She was his wife, and even if she didn’t know yet, she would. A swell of panic filled him at the thought of her fate — and his — if she refused to accept him as her mated partner. Marchosias would kill him and give Mallory to another daimon.

Calmly, Kaleb said, “I came here even after the witch threatened to kill me because I want to be with you. You know he was ready to kill me, but I’m here. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

MALLORY’S INSTINCTIVE — AND FOOLISH — desire to trust Kaleb vied with years of her father’s lessons. Those lessons had never concentrated on daimons manipulating her. In Adam’s myriad lectures, the focus was on the fact that daimons were crude brutes she should kill at first chance. He spoke of their strength, their cruelty, their history of brutality against witches. He didn’t tell her they would kiss her and promise to help her. He didn’t tell me a lot of other things, a guilty voice reminded her. She wanted to believe in him, but he’d kept secrets, spelled her, and, despite his assurances yesterday, he’d not come home to give her the answers he’d promised. She floated between worry that the daimons had found him and the possibility that he was avoiding her.

She wasn’t going to share her doubts with Kaleb though, so she said, “When my father gets here—” Her words were cut off as the window beside the door shattered.

An arm reached through the broken glass toward the dead bolt — and then, in an almost simultaneous moment, went still. The arm drooped, and she heard a thump outside the door.

“Shhhh.” Kaleb held up one finger in a wait gesture.

She nodded.

He released her and mouthed, “Wait.”

Then he walked to the living room window and pulled back the edge of the curtain. He turned to her and said quietly, “Stay inside. I’ll take care of this.”

“What happen—”

“I’ll take care of it,” he repeated. “You stay inside.”

Then he left.

The 9mm still in her hand, she peeked between the blinds — and saw Kaleb carrying someone down the street. At least she thought she did, and then a moment later it was as if she had imagined it. She stared at the street and saw absolutely no one. No Kaleb. No body. Mallory clutched the gun and glanced at the window. The window was intact, as if the wards were still in place. Working wards would stop any entry and repair the entry point. How did Kaleb get in then? She walked over to the window, laid her hand on the perfect pane, and shook her head. She lowered the gun, but still held it loosely in one hand. She stepped backward — directly onto the broken glass all over her floor.

She glanced at the window again. The details didn’t add up. If Kaleb had been in the street, he wouldn’t disappear. Do daimons vanish? If the window was unbroken, the wards should have stopped Kaleb too. She glanced at the red numbers on the microwave. And if it’s this late, my father should be home. Gun still in hand, she walked over to her phone, picked it up, and checked for messages. There weren’t any.

A sound at the door made her lift the 9mm again. She raised it up, ready to fire, and tensed. The door opened.

As he stepped inside, Kaleb held up his hands, palms out in a halt gesture.

She let her breath out in a sigh. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She lowered the gun again. “I’m standing in my house, holding a pistol, wondering why there’s glass on the floor if the window isn’t broken… and wondering why you disappeared. My house’s wards kept whoever that was out, but not you. My father isn’t here. You’re a daimon… and is that person-witch-daimon dead?”

For a moment, Kaleb looked very much like the sort of person who could calmly dispose of bodies — which could be because of their current circumstances or because of the blood on his jeans. This was not the boy she’d been falling for the past month or so. This was a daimon who had lied to her and misled her.

“You did just carry a man down the street, didn’t you?”

Kaleb sighed. “Yes.”

“Someone tried to break in, and the wards stopped him,” she said. She knew it. The proof was on her floor and on his jeans, but she wanted to hear the words too.

“Yes.”

“Is he—”

“Mallory,” Kaleb interrupted.

She looked at the window again. “You walked through the wards that killed him. The wards worked, but not on you.”

He turned his face away then, looking at the window or maybe through it into the street.

They stood silently for a moment, and then he asked, “Do you have a dustpan?”

Mallory followed his gaze back to the floor.

“A dustpan,” she repeated. “Someone just died, and the daimon in my house wants a dustpan. This is insane.” She walked away from him, trying not to notice the tiny pieces of glass that were embedded in the undersides of her slippers.

Mallory rummaged around in the kitchen until she found a dustpan and broom. The reality was that someone had tried to break into her home. It didn’t occur to her to call the police: her father’s injunction against letting strangers into the house included the police.

After handing the broom and dustpan to Kaleb, she picked up her cell phone. There still weren’t any messages — or missed calls. It was charged, but her father hadn’t called.

“Call him.”

“What?” Mallory looked down at Kaleb.

He didn’t meet her gaze. “Call Adam. Tell him whatever you want. We need to know if he’s safe or not, and if he is safe, he needs to know about this.”

Kaleb finished sweeping up the broken shards of glass and poured them into the trash while Mallory called her father’s cell phone, office phone, and then, when she had no answer on either of those, she called the building receptionist.

“Stoneleigh-Ross.”

“I’m trying to reach my dad… Adam Rothesay.”

“Mr. Rothesay didn’t come in today.”

“Are you sure?” Mallory sat down unsteadily. “Maybe—”

“I’m the only one on duty, dear, and I’d have noticed Mr. Rothesay if he had signed in, so yes, I’m sure. Hold on.” The sound of papers shuffling was all Mallory heard, and then the receptionist came back. “Some of the staff had an emergency. Perhaps he is with them. You should’ve had a call from the division coordinator if so.”

“I didn’t.”

The clacking of keys filled the pause, and then the receptionist said, “I’ve entered a note for an update call to be sent to this number. Is there anything else, Miss Rothesay?”

“No. Thank you.” Mallory disconnected. She kept the phone in her hand, but she wasn’t sure what to do next.

When Kaleb came to stand in front of her, she looked up at him, and she saw that he’d heard her side of the conversation with the receptionist. He said nothing, but he brushed her hair back.

She flinched away from his touch. “He’s not answering his cell phone, but the receptionist said there was an emergency. I guess they were to call me, but didn’t.”

Kaleb sat down next to her on the sofa. He didn’t put his arm around her, and she didn’t move closer to him. On the table in front of them was the gun that she’d held only moments prior.

“I’ll be here for you. Whatever it is, I’ll be here. You can trust me.” He sat so stiffly that she wondered who the real Kaleb was: the one who casually carried a body away or the one she had first met. He seemed like two different people.

She glanced at him and wondered what sort of person disposed of bodies without question.

He’s a daimon, not a person.

Beside her, Kaleb looked at her expectantly, and when she said nothing, he stood. “I need to wash the blood out of these before it sets in.”

He was halfway down the hallway when she admitted, “I want to trust you.”

Kaleb stopped and turned back to face her. “I want that too, Mallory.”