Page 11 of Haunting the Hunter
“Nothing’s here, Calli. You’ve gotta stop feeding into that shit—it’s clearly getting to your head.”
Her face hardens, eyes narrowing at me.
“Don’t you fucking patronize me, Cade. I’m not stupid. We grew up with this shit. You think just because you’re bigger and stronger and quieter about it that it didn’t fuck us both up?”
Running my hand over my face, I deflect. “It almost killed you.”
“Because ofthem, not because of me. Not because of what I am. You don’t get to rewrite that.” I clench my jaw so hard I swear my molars will crack.
Goddamn. Why does she have to make this so difficult?
“That symbol they carved on the back of your neck wasn’t a game, Calli. They didn’t see you as a daughter. They were deranged, and their belief in this bullshit is what started it.”
“I know that! And I’ve lived with that longer than you have—because I didn’t get to hide behind training, and rage.”
I stare at her. Her voice is rising, breaking with emotions.
“I stayed here, in this fucking house. With the aftermath. With the silence. With the ghosts of our parents and with the grimoire.” She throws one of her hands up, nearing hysteria. “It’s fuckingalive, Cade. I didn’t ask for this. Any. Of. This. But I see things. I feel things. And just because you can’t beat it into a wall, doesn’t mean it’s not real. I believe in what I do because of what I’veseen.”
She pauses, breath catching, then whispers shakily, “I see them when I sleep. I see you, covered in blood. Screaming for something you’ll never let yourself have.”
“Magic is not real, Calli—it’s all in your head.”
I want to reach out, to comfort her. To do what a brother would.Should. But I’m broken. She clings to magic and fairy tales, but I live in the real world. The one where a psychotic group of fucked-up people are hell-bent on murdering an innocent girl. All because they believe her death will bring them a power that doesn’t exist.
“I see with more than my eyes, and I don’t care if you believe me or not. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
“That’s thedefinitionof things that aren’t real.” I brush off her words, standing to leave.
“Don’t walk away from me.”
She’s shaking now, still clutching her book. “Let me in on this—I need to help. Because if I don’t… If you keep shutting me out, I’mgoing to fall apart. I’m hanging on by threads, Cade. This house, this silence, pretending I don’t know what’s coming. It’s killing me. I don’t have your armor. I don’t have your rage. All I have is this… this belief that maybe, if I can help you, if I can dosomething… I won’t disappear completely. I’ll matter. Just let me matter.”
We stand in silence, staring at each other. Two broken, fucked-up souls.
Her hands are trembling, pressed into the book, knuckles white.
I study her. She’s unraveling—not from fear, but from hope. Or a lack of it. She needs to believe this means something… thatshemeans something.
I watch her. The weight of her words hangs between us, raw and sharp. She’s not delusional—she’s desperate. This isn’t a belief. It’s survival.
I blow out a breath. “You’re only twenty-one, kid—you’re still so young. I know it’s a lot. But I’m only doing this so you have a chance.”
“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child, Cade. Twenty-nine isn’t that big of a difference.”
The world an awful place, and she doesn’t understand. I’m only hard on her because I care. Granted I’m not the best at showing it. But she knows I won’t pretend with her. I wasn’t raised that way. I was raised to be a machine, a leader. Not a nurturer.
I stare at her for a moment. I’ve never understood magic, never really wanted to. But I understand this.
“You’re only seeing what you want to see,” I say, and her shoulders flinch like I struck her.
“How could you say that to me?”
Fuck, I’m fucking this all up. I just want to keep her safe. Why can’t she just stay out of my way and see that’s all I want?
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
“You’re supposed to be my brother, Cade. It’s just us. We are all we have in this world.”
