‘Fuck. Voxy…” he whispered, reaching out to brush his fingers through Vox’s arm. “I miss you, man…’
“Vox, I know where they are!”
Vox rolled his eyes and shook his head like he was going to brush me off.
“I’m serious! Vox! Listen to me!”
The spirit glanced at me and frowned as Vox continued to ignore me in favor of shoving the gnome into the back seat of the car next to Theo.
‘Tell him you’re talking to Gavin,’the spirit said, and I didn’t hesitate.
“Gavin’s spirit is here. He’s telling me he knows where Cal and Naomi are. Damian took them. We have to gonow.”
Vox froze. I had never seen the mercenary look shocked before. His face was usually an impassive, grumpy wall. But the second Gavin’s name left my mouth, his silver eyes widened, and his lips parted in shock.
“I would listen to him if I were you. Ryan’s always had a weird thing with the dead. Don’t waste time being a non-believer,” Theo said, and Vox glanced at her before finallynodding. He looked at me with an expression that said:I’m listening.
I looked to Gavin, whose lips formed a firm line.
“They’re in the basement at Apex. You guys might need some help getting in. Do you have any friends that can help?”
My consciousness came back in phases.
The first thing I became aware of was the fact that my hands were tied behind my back. I groaned as I shifted in what felt like a steel chair. I felt like my ankles were tied to the legs, limiting my mobility even further.
“Ah. You’re awake.”
I knew that voice. It was the voice that whispered to me every night in my nightmares. It was a voice I never thought I would hear again.
“Damian,” I croaked, rolling my head up from where it had been lolling against my chest.
I was in a concrete room again, though there was no bathtub in sight. Just me, Damian, and this fucking chair.
A single light hung from the ceiling, flickering slightly in the dank space, casting eerie shadows across the face of my captor.
A face that was barely recognizable anymore.
Damian was no longer the strikingly handsome man that I had known nearly my entire life. He was horrifically scarred.
His thick, chestnut hair was gone. Instead, his head was all puckered, burned skin, likely courtesy of my grenade.
His entire face looked like a barely healed burn, and if it weren’t for those scorching whiskey eyes, I would have never been able to pick him out in a crowd.
I snorted.
“You look like shit.” I grinned, and his eyes flashed with rage, but he didn’t retaliate. He simply remained where he was, staring at me with a look that promised pain.
“You have been very, very bad, Callum.” He finally said, his voice dripping with hatred.
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t afraid of him. If I died here, so be it. I was done bowing to him; he no longer controlled me.
Looking at him now, he was just a shell of the man he had been before. I no longer felt that pull to obey.
“I’m not afraid of you, Damian, so you can cut the fucking act.”
“You’re not afraid of me, Callum?” he whispered, and I met his gaze head-on, feeling the darkness I’d worked so hard to suppress take me over.
“No, Damian. I’m not afraid of you. You’re nothing I haven’t seen before. You’re just another monster.”
