Lucas’s phone, which he left on the kitchen counter, rings. I reach for it, set on silencing the call so it doesn’t wake him. Then I see it’s Eliza, and though she’s the last person I want to talk to right now, I answer.
“Hey, Eliza, it’s Callie,” I answer.
“I need to talk to Lucas,” she says quickly, surprising me since usually she’ll huff and act bored and annoyed that she has to acknowledge my presence. “Put him on the phone.”
“He just fell asleep.”
“Wake him up. I need him.”
“Are you in trouble?” I hurry out of the kitchen.
“We are in trouble,” she spits. “Thanks to your fucking brother.”
Chapter 11
I come to a dead stop. “What do you mean, my brother?”
“Scott Martin is your brother, right?”
“Yeah, he is.”
“He’s on the city council and pulled a favor or something and got a friend from the Health Department to come to the bar. Thank fucking God I was here late last night and was waiting out the sun in the back. It’s like a bloody raid, and we’ve been tagged with a shit ton of health code violations that don’t exist. They say we have rats. Rats! There aren’t even any rats in the fucking basement! I’d smell them if there were.”
I close my eyes, heart racing as anger surges through me. “He’s going after Lucas to try and get to me.”
“No shit, you witch-bitch.”
“That’s not helping,” I snap. “Are they still there?”
“Yes, in the kitchen throwing stuff around as they look for messes that aren’t fucking there,” she yells so the Health Department workers hear her. “And I’m starting to get real hungry.”
“Don’t even draw your fangs,” I warn. “That’s what Scott wants. He’s not there, is he?”
“Oh, I wish he were here so I could rip him—”
“Eliza!” I interrupt. “He wants you to throw a fit and cause a scene. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone fakes an injury and tries to tempt you with blood.”
“They already did. One of these goons sliced his hand open on ‘broken glass’ yet I couldn’t find any glass. His blood smells like shit, but I know how to control myself. Lucas taught me, after all.”
“I will take care of this. Scott crossed a line. Fuck with me, whatever, but fuck with my friends…” Magic sizzles at my fingers. “Just, uh, I don’t know. Don’t kill anyone.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Eliza says and ends the call. I squeeze my eyes closed, and the magic around my fingers grows brighter. I clench my fist and release the energy, knowing I’m one step away from exploding with anger.
Setting the phone down, I hurry back upstairs and quietly sneak into the master bedroom. Lucas is sound asleep, lying in the same position he was in when I left. I grab my clothes and my purse and then rush back out of the room, getting dressed as I walk.
Scott is not going to get away with this. “Fucking asshole,” I mutter. The nerve of him to go after Lucas…
“He bribed people. He had to.” I shake my head, having a hard time controlling my powers again. The chandelier hanging in the two-story foyer starts to rattle. I yank my dress over my head and ball my fists. If I wasn’t trying to let Lucas sleep, I’d scream to help release some of this pent-up anger.
Though I’ll release it soon enough once I see my good-for-nothing, waste-of-human-space brother. Seething, I stomp through the foyer and into Lucas’s office to get a pen and paper so I can leave him a note. There’s a notebook open on his desk, and I go around to see if I can flip to the next page and write in it, or if it looks too official and is for business use only or something.
I recognize Lucas’s handwriting right away. It’s small and very neat. I read the first few lines written in the notebook, not really to be nosy but to be sure I’m not writing in an accounting book. I pick up the notebook and accidentally knock papers to the ground. I bend down, picking them up, and realize it’s the drafted paperwork for the white house back in Thorne Hill.
Lucas is buying the house, but he’s putting it in both our names. It really is my house, and he’s doing all of this to make me happy.
“You’re going down,” I say through gritted teeth, thinking of my brother. How fucking dare he do this to Lucas. I stack the papers back on Lucas’s desk, close the notebook, and end up grabbing a piece of paper from the printer. I scribble down my message so fast there’s no way anyone could read my writing. I flip it over and try again, forcing myself to take a bit more time.
Lucas-
I’m going to possibly kill my brother. Call Eliza and she’ll fill you in on why. Destroy this note so there’s no evidence against me in a murder trial. I love you.
-Callie
I bring the note with me and dash back to the top of the stairs, leaving the note on the floor where Lucas will see it as soon as he opens the bedroom door. And then I turn and march back down, shove my feet into boots, and step out of the house.
I’m not exactly sure where Scott works, but an internet search should be all I need to find the address of his office. And if he’s not there, I can use Abby’s phone to track his location since the “whole family” stalks each other.
I start down the block, thinking I’ll get an Uber to take me downtown, and then remember that Lucas owns like a million cars, and he’s told me before I’m free to use any I want while at his place during the day. I double back, disarm the alarm system, and go through the house to look for car keys.
The classic Chevelle and the McLaren are too valuable for me to drive. I’d be a nervous wreck the whole time, especially since I’ve grown accustomed to not driving in Chicago traffic. I take the black Mercedes, which is parked on the street outside just a few houses down. I get in, roll down the windows, and crank the air conditioning.
It takes me a minute to find the info I need, and after I enter the address in the GPS, I take off, speeding to Scott’s building.
“Hi,” I say, smiling pleasantly at the lady behind the desk. It’s not her fault one of the world’s biggest assholes works down the hall. “I’m here to see my brother, Scott Martin. It’s a bit of a family emergency.”
“Oh, goodness.” She picks up the phone on her desk. “Abby, right?”
“No, I’m the other sister. Callie. Make sure he knows it’s me.”
The woman, whose name is Sharon by the little plaque on her desk, dials Scott’s extension. He picks up after the second ring.
“Hi, Mr. Martin,” she says into the phone. “Your sister, Callie, is here to see you. She says it’s urgent. Should I send her back?”
Sharon’s brows push together, and she flicks her gaze to me for half a second. “Oh…okay. Thank you, sir.” She hangs up, and whatever Scott told her must have rattled her a bit. She knocks over her cup of pens and pencils as she gets up, sweeping her arm out.
“Your brother’s office is this way.” She leads me to the hall. “Third floor, and the door to his office is the first thing you’ll see when you get off the elevator.”
“Thank you.” I hurry past and hit the button to the elevator, tapping my foot impatiently as I wait for the doors to open. Two people get out, taking their sweet-ass time. It takes everything I have not to push past them or use magic to hurry them along. Finally, I get in and hit the button to go to the third floor. The elevator plods along, and this time I do use magic to make it bypass stopping at the second floor.
I walk out as soon as the doors open to floor number three. Sharon was right. Scott’s office is almost directly across from the elevator, and his name is etched into a large metal plaque that hangs on the wooden door. I telekinetically open the door and storm into Scott’s office.
He must have been expecting me, because he’s standing behind his desk with a smug smile on his face.
“Callie, how nice of you to come vis—”
“Cut the shit.” I hold my hand up and flick my wrist, magically slamming the door shut behind me
. Scotts jumps, smile faltering. That’s right. I don’t think he knows I perfected my telekinetic skills since I left home. “You had no reason to send the Health Department into Lucas’s bar. They’re not in violation of anything, and what you did is fraud.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re such a fucking coward.” I move closer to his desk, and Scott jerks back. “Your issue is with me. Leave my friends alone.”
Scott clears his throat and finds his bearings. “All I did was respond to a concerned citizen who got horribly sick after eating at The Taproom in Lincoln Park.”
“What did they eat?” I ask, knowing the bar doesn’t have a wide variety of food on the menu. It’s a bar, not a restaurant.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss personal details. They wished to remain anonymous.”
“Because it’s fucking bullshit!” The lights flicker above us.
“You watch your tone,” Scott says through gritted teeth. “You really think you can come into my office and try to threaten me?”
“Isn’t that what you did to me? You came to my store under a ridiculous pretense that I kidnapped Abby and forced her to join my coven. She couldn’t even pass through the door since she has no magical blood, but you don’t know anything about witches or magic, do you?”