Page 120 of Anomalies

He pauses in the doorway, head tilted to the side in curiosity. “Lucina, you need rest⁠—”

“I’m rested and I’m perfectly fine,” I tell him, turning to Gemma. “Right, G?”

She pulls her hands away, and that gold light vanishes, slipping back through the pores in my skin. “She’s fine, all healed.”

I look back at Callan, brows raised in a silent challenge.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Get dressed.”

The Ajax coven has a bunker in the woods. It’s nothing but a hatch door in the ground, and Devon and Pax are out front when we get there. Their long stares turn skeptical when they see me.

“Boss?” Devon queries, gaze tracking mine.

“She wanted to come,” the Captain tells him, and Pax’s smile is taunting.

“Feeling okay, little Reenan?” His red hair is tousled, and there’s a small splatter of blood on the edge of his white shirt. Fenton’s blood, I bet.

“I’m perfectly fine, Paxton.” He grimaces at the name. “Just figured I should be involved.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Lucina,” Pax taunts, brown eyes swinging to Callan. “You’re about the see the Captain in all his glory⁠—”

“Fuck off, and open the door, Pax.”

My eyes spring wide, but Pax obeys—grinning as he does—and the hatched door in the ground creaks open to reveal five or so stone steps leading down into the damp earth. Callan’s demeanor shifts entirely, his face stone-cold and vacant as he takes the first steps down, and I trail close behind.

Dim lights flicker on, cutting through the dark space and illuminating⁠—

Fenton Thorneveil is tied to a rusted metal chair in the center of the room. His ankles are bound to the metal, and his wrists are secured behind his back; a white strip of cloth is tied around his mouth.

The second he sees the Captain, his eyes widen in fear, but the second he sees me⁠—

He starts screaming.

The sound is muffled by the cloth as he thrashes against his restraints, a vein along his forehead bulging. Fenton’s blonde hair is soaked in sweat, a portion of it matted with blood, and dried drops of it trail down the side of his bruised face. Before I can even inhale my next breath, magic cracks, and Fenton’s entire body stiffens as Callan strikes him with⁠—

Lightning.

Holy gods. Ropes of it pour from his outstretched hand, and Fenton’s body jerks against the metal chair—his teeth gritted so hard that blood pools at the corners of his mouth.

I break out of my stunned silence when his eyes roll back. “Callan!”

The Captain’s hand falls away instantly, and Fenton sags against the chair, panting and grunting against the gag in his mouth. Callan stalks towards him, not a single ounce of remorse on his face, and the blonde Diviner tracks his movement with wide, fearful eyes.

“Good morning, Fenton. Sleep well?”

When he doesn’t answer, the Captain yanks down the bloodied cloth in his mouth. But instead of pleading his innocence or begging for his life, Fenton looks me straight in the eyes and snarls, “You filthy bitc⁠—”

Callan’s fist slams so violently into Fenton’s face that the chair topples backwards, and I flinch when metal clashes with stone.

“That wasn’t very nice,” the Captain grits out, yanking him upright by his collar, and the legs of the chair settle back on the ground a heartbeat later.

Rivulets of blood pour from Fenton’s crooked nose, bright splotches of purple already blooming beneath his eyes as he tries to focus them on Callan.

“I’ll be honest with you, Fenton,” the Captain starts, crouching before him. “Usually, the questioning comes before the killing, but I’m finding it hard to give a fuck. So, I’m going to ask you once and only once. If you lie, I’ll make sure the only memory you enter the afterlife with is the brutal way in which I kill you. Sound fair?”

All the breath is knocked from my lungs, and Callan turns his head to me at the audible exhale. There is no mercy on his face, just a deadly calm that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand. His grey eyes are as heavy as storm clouds—a dark promise of brutal thunder.

“I did it and I don’t regret it,” Fenton rasps, spit flying to the stone floor as his confession cuts through the air. “She deserved it.”