“And what about Kenna’s disappearance? Do you think she might have something to do it this?” Eli wasn’t fucking around with these questions. He went straight for the jugular.
“What? No?—”
Cal slammed his fist on the counter, stopping me midsentence. “Keep those stupid fucking thoughts to yourself.”
“But you think Mr. Whitethorn might have been?” Eli ignored the anger simmering off Cal.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, looking between the two of them.
“It sounds like he was.”
“Dude, I warned you to shut the fuck up.” Cal flexed his fingers, balling them into fists, practically salivating at the idea of a fight.
My eyes pleaded with Eli to shut the fuck up and stop antagonizing him. Cal was short tempered and quick to fight, and Eli was poking the bear.
“Sorry, I’m not a good little lap dog like you.”
Cal lunged, fists flailing, and the two tumbled to the floor. Cal struggled, gaining the upper hand, and used the weight of his body to pin Eli to the ground. Cal clenched his right hand into a fist, connecting directly with Eli’s jaw.
“Cal, stop it,” Emory pleaded, trying to drag him off of Eli.
Laughter filled the room. At first, I thought it belonged to Cal, but no, it was Eli. He gave Cal a bloody smile, his teeth a deep crimson.
Cal froze, fist raised above his head as if realizing what he’d just done.
“Feel better?” Eli asked, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the kitchen floor.
We were going to need to sage the shit out of the house after this. The last thing we needed was all this negative energy suffocating Emory’s magic.
“Yeah, I do actually.” Cal extended an arm, helping Eli to his feet.
“Good cause you were like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute,” Eli said, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand.
“You did that on purpose?” I shook my head in disbelief at their stupidity.
“Yeah, and it worked.” He smirked.
The tension and anger from earlier were gone. Two minutes later, Cal sat next to Eli eating a jelly filled donut like he hadn’t just punched his best friend in the face.
I reached for the last chocolate sprinkle donut, but before I could take a bite a splitting pain tore through my head. I dropped the donut to the floor and stumbled backwards from the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Emory gripped my arm, trying to keep me upright.
I shut my eyes tight, trying to shut out the building pressure in my head.
“Lyra,” Emory’s hands tightened.
“The spirits…” I managed to get out. “We need to get to the church, now.”
CHAPTER 38
GREY
Iwoke bloody and broken. Pain and dark and loneliness were all that existed.
No, that wasn’t true. In the depths of my mind, I reached for Lyra. And a small smile spread over my dried, cracked lips.
One moment Lyra consumed my every thought, and the next my consciousness dragged me back to the church. A weight rested atop my head, blocking my vision. Or maybe the all-consuming darkness was because my eyes weren’t yet open.
