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this a joke?

His voice lowered even more as he said, “I sent someone to get your friends, but I can’t stall my father for much longer.”

“I don’t believe you,” I sneered. “You kidnapped me, you prick. Who does that?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” His jaw was clenched tight, but his eyes flickered nervously to his father again. “October, I don’t have time to explain, but I’m so sorry for my role in this. I’m going to help you. He’s got this sick obsession with—” He stopped nervously.

“With what, Cal? What the hell is he trying to do?”

His face dropped, and my stomach clenched as he said, “He’s trying to raise your mother from her grave.”

Every muscle in my body locked up. The world seemed to go silent as a cold fury seeped through me. He wanted to raise my mother? She’s been dead for a year. There wasn’t much left by now to even raise. This man was truly sick.

Cal kept going. “He’s convinced the only reason she chose David was because he used his powers to force her. He actually believes she would have chosen him. It’s a fucking obsession, but he can only bring her back with the blood of a necromancer. It’s the only way to complete the ritual during an eclipse.”

“If all this is true, why would you want to help me? What do you get out of going against your own dad for someone you barely even know?” I was stalling, pulling at the last thread of hope.

He sighed heavily. “Believe it or not, I do have a fucking conscience. He’s had me going along with this shit since you got here, and I’ve done my best to throw him off, but he’d kill me if he found out.” His eyes held mine, and I could see the truth.

His father was a psychopath, and Cal had been at the end of that for who knew how long. I almost felt bad.

“Where are the guys and Maddie? What about my aunties?” I asked, needing to know if they were safe at least.

“Hopefully on their way. I sent someone to get them, but he’s a little…dumb.” He cringed, biting his lip worriedly.

“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned. “You’re talking about that freaky marionette dummy, Roger, aren't you? I can’t believe this shit is happening…”

“Give me your hand before he gets suspicious.”

“I’m not handing over my blood, Calvin. Fuck off.” The fucker didn’t deserve a nickname, so calling him by his name seemed appropriate.

He shook his head. “I’m not going to use your blood, but I need to make it look like I am. Give me your hand.”

I contemplated it for a moment. I wasn’t sure I could trust him. I wanted to, but after kidnapping me and letting his father place me in this cage… But what choice did I have? I held my palm to the iron bars. They were just wide enough to get my hand through, and Cal grasped my wrist gently. Using his body to cover us, I watched him slip a little pocket knife from his sleeve and make a slit on my palm. I winced, and yanked my hand back.

Cal pocketed the knife and held the athame out in front of him, pulling up his own sleeve and making a slit in his forearm. The athame was bathed in Cal’s own blood as I watched with wide eyes. He winced as he put his sleeve back into place to cover up the cut and then met my eyes.

“I’m sorry for my part… I don’t want to see you get hurt. My dad…he’s not been right in the head for a while now, and he’s deluded himself into thinking your mom can come back. I just can’t stop him alone.” He pleaded with me to understand, and in a way, I kind of did. Family was family, and you couldn’t help who you cared about.

“You should have told me a long time ago, Calvin,” I gritted out, peeved about all the lies, but at least he was helping me now. “Just stall him until everyone gets here. Please.”

“I’ll try. My blood should throw him off when the ritual doesn’t work. He needs to place her soul back into the body, but without your blood, all he can do is raise empty shells,” he said, shuddering

“The zombies?” Holy shit…so that whole thing at the theater had been Ichabod all along? The morgue? It was all making sense.

“Yes. My father can raise corpses, but not souls. Only necromancers can control those. It’s why blood magic like this is forbidden. It’s sick and twisted, and he needs to be stopped.” At least we agreed on that part.

“Is he going to raise my mom's body?” My voice trembled, terrified. I didn’t want to see that. I didn’t think any part of me could handle having that image in my brain.

Cal shook his head. “I hope not. I placed a ward around their graves, but I don’t know if it’s strong enough to hold. I may be a warlock, but I’m not as strong as my father. My specialty is mainly potions, but I did what I could to hold him off. If he breaks through it…” It was out of his hands and we were doomed if that happened.

“Just get me out of here,” I said as I stared at that fresh hole just for me.

“Hold on, okay?” He gripped the bar and stepped back after a second.

“Cal,” I choked out, a single tear racing down my cheek, “don’t let him bring her back. Kill me if you have to, but don’t let him do that to my mom.”

His eyes held mine, and in them, I could tell he was telling me the truth. I could feel the remorse and the guilt rolling off of him in waves. “I’ll try, I promise.”

With that, he turned around with the bloody athame and made his way to his father, who was waiting for him impatiently. By now, the

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