20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Callum

We were walking out of the club, when Michael pulled his phone out of his back pocket, frowning.

"Something wrong?" The cool air made me shiver after the heat of the club.

"Derek has called me a bunch of times," Michael frowned. "It might be important. Give me a second?"

"Of course."

He moved us away from the crowd that was still waiting to be allowed in. To give him a bit of privacy, I moved a few steps away, careful to make sure I stayed close enough that I didn't cause him any pain.

"That guy you're with is a dick, just so you know." Spinning around, I stared at the small, colorfully dressed man.

"Excuse me?" My eyes narrowed on him; pretty sure I knew who he was.

"He's okay in bed, but he'll toss you out right after he comes. Some fucked up rule about not sleeping with someone or something. Just warning you."

"You!" At the hissed word, he turned back to face me. "It was you."

Grabbing him by his elbow I ignored his high-pitched screech. He shook his arm, trying to break out of my grasp. "Let go! Are you nuts?"

Michael hurried over, having heard the commotion. "You! We need to talk to you."

The other man's lips turned up in a smirk. "Hello handsome, how's your luck been?"

We had attracted notice, and I implored Michael with my eyes and a jerk of my head to head down the sidewalk away from the crowd.

"Walk," my voice was low in the man's ear, "now."

He did what I said, not that I gave him much of a choice, my grip holding him fast. When we were away from prying eyes, I let go of him. Pointing my finger, I demanded, "Tell me what spell you used."

His eyes widened a fraction, flicking between me and then Michael.

"It was nothing, just something to give him a bit of bad luck." He still had that damn smirk on his face, and I had never wanted to punch anyone as much as I wanted to punch him.

"Break the spell," I ordered, "now."

"You break it!" he shot back, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"If I could, I would. Now break it."

Michael was watching us with wide eyes but had remained silent so far.

"How'd you even know about it?" the man asked, flicking his hair out of his eyes.

"Because I'm a born witch," I hissed, pointing a finger at him, "unlike you."

His eyes grew big and for the first time he looked scared. "Look, it was just a bit of harmless fun. I got it on the internet. I use it when someone is being a dick, just to give them a taste of their own medicine. Have a bad day like he made me have."

"Bad day?" Michael finally said, his teeth clenched tightly. "I lost all my cases! I nearly got hit by a car–several of them–when I tripped and fell into traffic! My condo building caught on fire! Innocent people could have died! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The man's face paled, and he shook his head. His voice was trembling when he said, "That wasn't me! It was supposed to just be a bit of an annoyance. Spilled coffee, maybe your car wouldn't start. That kind of thing. No one was supposed to get hurt! I've done it before and nothing like that has happened!"

"Break. The. Spell," I bit out.

"I can't!" he cried. "Only he can!" He pointed at Michael, who looked as shocked as I felt.

"What?" Michael whispered.

The man–I wasn't inclined to even ask his name–ran a shaking hand through his hair. " You have to break the spell. I can't do it. It's part of the spell. At least I think it is. I'm not very good at this stuff, I just dabble."

"How?" Michael demanded, "Like with true love's kiss or something?"

"Dude," the twink snorted, "what the fuck? This isn't some Disney movie."

Grabbing Michael's hand, I gave it a squeeze, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed by the other man. "Dude, hate to break it to you, but your boyfriend's been stepping out on you."

"No, he hasn't, Dude . Trust me on that. How does he break the spell?"

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and I could tell he was trying to work out the relationship between Michael and me.

"He has to put someone else before himself." Pointing an accusatory finger at Michael, he muttered, "You're a selfish prick, so good luck ever breaking it."

"I was," Michael agreed, "you're right." Turning to me, he whispered, "We'll just wait for Daphne to get home. It's probably what we should have done in the first place. Can she still…do whatever she does?"

Running my hand down his slightly stubbled jaw, I whispered, "She should be able too, yeah. You're sure you want to wait?"

"I'm sure. Let's go home."

"You," I waved my finger in the twink's face, "stop putting spells on people! You can't just get something from the internet and go around messing with things you know nothing about. And if you don't, I'm going to find you. And you won't like when I do."

He must have taken my threat seriously because he ran down the sidewalk, away from the club, looking back once before disappearing around the corner.

Michael was staring at me, an incredulous look on his face.

"What?" I demanded.

"That was kind of badass."

Rolling my eyes, I grinned at him. "He irritated me."

We started walking towards the parking garage where we had left Michael's car. "Oh, I think we all got that message."

"Did you reach Derek?"

"No," Michael shook his head, pulling his keys from his pocket when we were close to the garage. "I tried him a couple times, but I just got his voicemail. I'll try him from the car and if I don't get him, I'll just leave a message."

Stifling a yawn, I waited while he unlocked my car door. He had made a big deal about opening my car door when we had left Salem. Once he had me tucked in, he walked around the front and got in. Securing his seatbelt, he leaned over and gave me a kiss before he started driving.

Sitting at a red light, he hit the Bluetooth feature on his phone and the sound of ringing came through the car speakers.

"Michael!" A frantic, deep male voice filled the car as the light turned green. "Where are you?"

Michael checked his rearview mirror, frowning. "We're on our way back to Salem."

"We? Who is with you?"

"Callum, I told you about him."

The car's interior was suddenly illuminated with bright light. Turning to look behind us, I was blinded by the car behind us. The driver was so close, all I could see was the other car's intense headlights.

Blinking, I turned to face the front again, mumbling, "Asshole."

"Dude, go around," Michael muttered, and Derek's voice demanded, "What's happening?"

"Nothing," Michael assured him, "just a guy riding my ass."

"Michael, I need your twenty," Derek demanded .

The car behind us backed off, then sped up, getting so close I tensed in my seat, afraid he was going to accidentally hit us. My muscles tensed involuntarily, but it was more than just the guy being a dick.

There was an edge to Derek's voice that caused a chill to race up my spine.

"We're almost to the highway," Michael relayed, keeping his eyes on the car's headlights behind us.

"Michael, Marcone put a hit out on you!" Derek's voice rose, "What street are you on? I'm sending a black and white."

My head spun in Michael's direction, my hands gripping the leather of my car seat. He looked calm, but his grip on the steering wheel was tight. "How sure is your intel?"

"One of our C.I.'s brought it to us," Derek said, "he's reliable. And…"

His voice trailed off, and Michael frowned, "What?"

Turning to look behind us, I was again blinded by the high beams of the car following us, but I couldn't tell how close the other driver was. But I knew he was too fucking close. He very well could just be an asshole driver, and I was being paranoid, but everything inside me was screaming that danger was all around us.

"Shelby is missing." Derek's voice was quiet in the car. "She's been missing since last night. It looks like they were waiting on her when she got home. "

Michael's face visibly paled, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel. I felt the car speed up as he put distance between us and the other car. The street was busy, and I was thankful that we weren't the only ones out tonight.

"Is she…?" Michael swallowed hard, unable to finish his sentence.

"There was blood, but we don't know yet if it was hers."

Michael nodded, "Am I getting on the highway, or am I going past the exit? What do you want me to do, Der?"

Whatever Derek said was drowned out by the crunching of metal hitting metal. The impact felt like it came from two sides, the rear of the car and the driver's side. The force jerked me forward and sideways, my head banging against the windshield hard enough to make me see stars.

The car spun in dizzying circles, until I wasn't sure which way we were going. Glass shattered, car horns blared, and there was yelling. So much yelling. Me, or Michael, maybe both of us.

Derek's voice was yelling through the phone, filling the car's interior, but I couldn't make sense of what he was shouting.

Finally, after what felt like way too long, the spinning stopped. Pain sliced through my head, and I blinked to clear my vision. Something wet fell into my eyes and I blinked harder, trying to see .

A hand grabbed my shoulder, frantically pulling on my shirt. "Callum?"

Michael's voice was low, barely above a whisper, and I rolled my head towards him on the seat. Wincing when pain nearly blinded me.

Blood streamed down the side of his face, and glass sprinkled his hair and shoulders.

"I'm okay," I whispered, reaching for him.

Gunshots rang out around us, and we both jerked. Pounding feet rushed the car, yelling, and more shots were fired but none sounded like they hit our car. My door was yanked open, and I was dragged out. I felt Michael's hand on my shirt, grabbing for me, and then it was gone.

Whoever had grabbed me half dragged, half carried me further from Michael. Until I was too far, and his anguished screams reached my ears just before I saw the butt of a handgun racing towards my face, and everything went black.