Brighid's Mark by Cate Morgan Page B

blood washing her hands. Liam’s eyes were full of silent sympathy while he pressed his forearm across Chase’s throat. How could she have not seen the truth before? Donny had forgiven Eva, but Chase had never forgiven her.
    Because she’d been so focused on the hunt—and Liam—she’d been oblivious to all else.
    Something else Brigitte said stuck with her, then her first conversation with Yshotha came back to her in a rush. The final pieces, at last. She stood, hands dripping. Chase followed her approach with wary, hateful eyes.
    Callie stopped just behind Liam. “How many, Chase?”
    For a moment surprise superseded hate. “What?”
    “When I was off having a chat with Brigitte, dying by inches, she mentioned Keepers that were lost. Then there was that lovely talk I had with Yshotha. Buried in all its posturing was the lasting impression more than one Keeper had been visiting. Liam’s dream supports my theory.”
    “And?”
    “Far as I knew, Eva was the only one gone. I’m still kicking, despite your best efforts. So I need to know how many Keepers are lost. What’s the official count?”
    Liam slowly released Chase from his chokehold, moving out of Callie’s path. Together they waited for the answer.
    Callie’s temper snapped. “How many, Chase?”
    “Seven,” he answered, almost before she finished shouting. “Seven.”
    Liam had been right to get out of the way. Callie simply stared at Chase while her shocked mind came to terms with this new information. Then she hit him so hard the back of his head smacked against the brick wall. She grabbed him by the jacket and smashed him against the wall again. “Nineteen Keepers.” Again. “Fifty-four contingents.” And again. “Those are two of the very few things that stand between humanity and total annihilation. And you would put that in jeopardy over a grudge?”
    “What about you?” Chase shot back. “You act like the fate of the entire human race lies on your shoulders alone. And for what? So you don’t have to be one of them? So you can hold yourself apart?”
    Callie glared. “My reasons have nothing to do with you.”
    “They have everything to do with me.”
    “We’ve talked about this.”
    “You’ve talked. I stood around like a chump, waiting for you to come to your senses.”
    “So what happens? In fifty years, and I still look the same, and I’m still hunting? How long would it take for the resentment to come back? For you to start hating me again because I can do what you cannot?”
    “Does humanity have fifty years, Cal?”
    “Thanks to you? Probably not.”
    “Then why, really?”
    She had no choice. What she’d spared him from when he was eighteen with the light of the hunt in his eyes, she gave him now with both barrels. “I don’t love you.”
    “And him?”
    She dragged the words kicking and screaming out of her heart. “He’s what I want.”
    Chase coughed on dark laughter. “Him? In this…place?”
    “It’s what people like us do.” She got in his face. “And you’re not a part of it any longer.”
    “Callie.” Liam’s voice, his hand on her shoulder, made her turn.
    In fighting with Chase, she’d been unheeding of her surroundings. The courtyard was knee-deep in thick mist. Liam looked startled, and not a little awed.
    And so he should. Brighid stood right behind the crumpled form of Donal’s body, hem fastidiously clear of the lifeblood pooling beneath him.
    In that instant the world stopped, freezing Chase in his anger. This left Callie and Liam to face Brighid together.
    Callie hadn’t seen her since her first ascension, a century or more ago. And like Callie, Brighid looked just the same. Knee-length hair amber-gold with hints of red highlights, eyes blue then gray then green and finally gold. She was all women, all at once. Imperial and serene.
    “You let your hair grow,” Brighid greeted her. “I like it.”
    “Eva,” Callie begged. “Tell me Eva—”
    Brighid’s face filled with