“Callie!” he yells as soon as the phone connects.
“H-hello?” I bring the phone to my ear.
“Thank fucking god. Listen, Roger knows you cast a spell on him and is pissed as fuck. He’s coming after you right now. I was following him but lost him somewhere in Lincoln Park.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” I say, surprised at how steady my voice is. “He was here.”
“Fuck, you’re okay?”
“I am. He shot me.”
“What?” Easton repeats. “But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I…I…” My eyes fall shut.
“Where are you?” Easton asks, sounding panicked.
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I open my eyes and suck in a shaky breath. “My sister’s house.”
“Be more specific, Callie, I’m coming over. I’ll deal with Roger.”
“You…you don’t have to. He’s dealt with.” I exhale heavily and look through the kitchen, expecting to see Lucifer reappear.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”
“Send me a pin with your location. I’m coming.”
I pull my phone away from my ear and hesitate. The less people who know the better, but time isn’t on my side and Abby has security cameras in the house. Deleting the footage is the last thing I know how to do, and I need to make sure it’s done properly so no one is able to recover it.
I’d ask Lucas, but…I flick my eyes from the phone to the window. The sun is insulting, it’s so bright. Before I have time to second-guess myself, I send Easton my location.
“I’m only a few minutes away,” he says.
“Okay. Don’t ring the doorbell.” I end the call and set my phone down, then continue my search for cleaning products. All the lower cabinets in the kitchen are baby-proofed, and in my frazzled state, it takes me a few tries to get the cabinet below the sink open.
Grabbing a bottle of Lysol and a roll of paper towels, I hurry into the foyer and kneel down by the front door. I spray the blood smear and ball up a few paper towels, carefully wiping up the blood without smearing it. I’m no crime scene expert, but I know enough to try and contain the mess as much as possible.
And I’ll have to get Lucas to come over later and make sure all the blood is gone. He can still smell it after it’s been cleaned, but maybe I’ll bring a blacklight for good measure.
Because there’s no way around it: I killed Roger in Abby’s house. If his Order of the Mystic Realm hunting buddies come looking for him, they’ll come here, right? Roger knew where I was.
But how?
“It doesn’t matter,” I mutter, shaking my head. I fold the paper towel in half, keeping the blood on the inside, and wipe up the red-stained bleach spray that’s rolling down the door. I unroll a few more paper towels and lay them out on the floor so I can put the bloody ones on top.
My hands start shaking again, and I have to turn and watch Abby’s chest rise and fall a few times, making sure she’s okay. Lucifer healed her, just like how my father healed me when I was sick. She made a complete recovery, and it was like the bullet never entered her body.
The bullet.
It’s still on the floor next to Abby. Standing, I take a step to get it but see something out of the corner of my eye. I turn and see Easton bound up the porch steps. I telekinetically open the door and slam it shut behind him once he’s in the house.
“Callie, what’s—holy fuck.” His brown eyes widen, and he looks at Abby lying on the floor. “Is she—”
“She’s fine,” I rush out. Tears spring to my eyes, as the fear of almost losing my sister crashes down on me all over again. Easton shifts his gaze from Abby to the blood on my hands.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks slowly and looks around the foyer. “Where’s Roger? Did he get away?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m pretty sure I killed him, but I told you, he’s gone and won’t be found.”
Easton looks at me unblinking for a few seconds, and then goes over to Abby, dropping to his knees and checking her pulse.
“She’s asleep,” I start. “Obviously. I cast a sleep spell on her.”
“It looks like she’s been shot.” Easton carefully pulls up Abby’s shirt. “But there’s no wound.”
“She was shot, but…but…” The less people who know the truth the better, I know. But how the fuck am I supposed to explain this to Easton? I need his help, and I know he’s stubborn enough to refuse to help until he hears what he wants.
“She was healed.”
“By magic?”
“Yes,” I say, and it’s not technically a lie. It is a type of magic. “I’ll explain it all later, I promise.” I actually don’t promise. “But Abby’s husband and daughter could be home any minute now and I don’t want them to walk in and see this.”