Page 11 of Anomalies

Her eyes open like fireworks, honeyed, burning, and bloodshot.

Instantly, she’s up, as if she wasn’t half dead a second ago, blood spreading back through her colorless lips, turning them a deep shade of pink. Her wild curls fall in a tangled web around her shoulders, and every inch of skin that her bathing suit doesn’t cover is smothered in sand. Her frantic eyes search my face, then the faces of the five men behind me, widening at each weapon we have strapped to our bodies.

“Who are you?” she asks, eyes flitting back to me. Her voice is hoarse and shaky, her arms trembling as she wraps them around herself.

“Who are you?” Phoenix drawls, prowling a step closer, and I jut my hand out over his chest to stop him.

“I’m Callan. And this is Phoenix.” Her eyes widen when I nod to the four behind me. “Pax, Devon, Hunter, Easton.” I take a step towards her, and she takes a step back, fear flitting across her face. “Do you…remember your name?” I ask, and Pax snickers behind me.

Her brows pinch. “Of course I do, I’m not stupid.”

I can’t tell who laughs behind me then, but someone does.

“Well, if you’re not stupid,” I pull on the arms of my jacket, walking it over to her, “then what do you go by?” This time, when I approach, she doesn’t take a step back; she stands a bit straighter. I can’t tell if that’s a defense mechanism or not; her face seems innocent enough.

She takes it from me before I can slide it over her shoulders. “Lucina,” she says, teeth chattering as she wraps herself in the material, enough to cover most of her thighs. “Where am I?”

“You’re on the coast of Streatham.”

Her face pales. Ambered eyes widening on us.

“Where did you come from—fuck.” Her eyes roll back, and I jolt forward, catching her by the waist before she can hit the sand. She’s out completely, but there’s a pulse still, flickering violently beneath the two fingers I press there. I hand my bag to Pax and gather her to my chest, trudging back up the sloped sand while my coven spectates wordlessly.

“Um, Boss,” Devon says as I pass, but I don’t answer, I already know what he’s going to say. He’s going to tell me that I can’t bring her back, because if I bring her back, she won’t be allowed to leave. But I’d rather she wake up pissed than die out here.

“Callan,” Easton says this time, and when I turn around to face them, the girl—Lucina— tightens her arm around me as if I’d moved too fast.

“What?” I snap. “I’m not just going to let her die out here, and we don’t know where she came from⁠—”

“She’s Sol,” Devon says, pointing a burly finger to Lucina’s chest, and my eyes fall to the silver pendant there, the image of a burning sun engraved in the oath-bound metal. We all wear one; it’s the mark of a witch.

Lucina’s hardly moved, still sound asleep in my arms, when we make it to the Banyan tree. It towers amongst the dense foliage, its falling branches sinking into the earth. The coarse bark wraps every branch, the arms of the ancient giant like long, gangly fingers reaching for the surrounding soil. Spring has fully given way to summer, and the leaves are a vibrant green, soaking up every ounce of the burning sun.

Devon presses his palm against the rough bark, and with a trembling groan, the trunk cracks and splits, revealing an archway that swirls with liquid gold.

Lucina jerks awake, all but scrambling out of my arms. I catch her shoulders to keep her steady, but she yanks herself out of my grasp. “You kidnapped me!” She backs up, hand raised as if there’s a weapon in it, but it’s only her pointed finger.

“Kidnapping?” I rear back. “How old are you?”

She pauses. Sitting with the question. Then her anger flares anew. “You adult-napped me!”

“Gods,” I curse, nodding to Devon. They all take turns stepping through the velvet gold archway, and her face goes deathly pale as she watches them.

“Okay,” I sigh. “Look at me, please.” Lucina does, instantly, and there’s a fight in her eyes like she’s mad at how fast she listened. But that doesn’t matter, I only needed her attention. “I have more things to tell you, but they might be shocking.” Her brows pinch. “And the last time I did that, you fainted. Do you think you’re going to faint again, Lucina?”

She folds her arms across her chest, her hands swimming in the fabric of my jacket. “Do you think I knew I was going to faint the first time?”

I don’t have the patience for this. “Look, I’m not the enemy here,” I tell her.

“You’re…” Lucina’s stare trails down my body, “covered in blood.” There’s no trace of fear in her voice, just pure observation.

I don’t bother looking down, I know how bad it is. I’ve been hunting Rogues for seven days; I am covered in it. “It’s not mine.”

“Whose is it, then?”

“I’m trying to help you, Lucina.” I change the subject, nodding to the Banyan. “Through that tree is a safe place. We have plenty of space, food, and anything you might need, and if the Dame approves, you can stay as long as you like. But here’s the thing,” I step into her, just in case that sway in her stance gets too severe. “Where I’m offering to take you can never be found, so if you want to leave, I’ll have to make you forget that it exists. I’ll have to pull those memories right out of your head. Do you understand?”

“Not even a little bit.”