The Beast of Callaire_An Urban Fantasy Novel by Saruuh Kelsey

Author:Saruuh Kelsey [Kelsey, Saruuh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00JVY0SWG
Published: 2018-01-26T17:57:16+00:00

Five

Joy was reluctant to leave Bo’s house. She didn’t resist as he convinced her to stay for dinner, and then corralled her into helping him tidy the cupboard under the stairs, snickering through a Harry Potter reference every other minute. It was nice, this almost-father figure in her life.

It was nice to be around an adult who had life figured out and could help Joy figure out her own. But the illusion of safety was interrupted when her phone blasted out a Little Mix song and Victoriya’s image popped up—her beautiful face glaring out from the middle of her two favourite dogs, one enormous and scowling, the other tiny and vicious. Victoriya did not call except in emergencies. Joy’s stomach dropped.

“Victoriya?” she answered meekly, already feeling her face heat in preparation of tears.

Mor—she was gone. Joy knew it in the twisting pit of her stomach.

“Joy?” There was absolute worry and unexpected relief in her witch sister’s voice. “You bastard. Where are you? Gus was worried about you.” Translation: I couldn’t find you and I panicked.

“I’m with Bo. Bo Pride? We figured out something about the fountain. Maybe. Something weird, either way. I tried to purify it and it didn’t work at all—”

“Joy,” Victoriya cut her off in a voice that had become flat. Unsettlingly flat for a voice usually full of scorn. “You need to get to the clinic. Salma fainted.”

“What?” Joy’s knees were suddenly weak. She reached for the cupboard door to keep her standing. “What do you mean she fainted?”

“I mean she fainted,” Victoriya snapped. “The healers think she’s poisoned. Mum says they’ve had seven witches come in today with the same symptoms.”

Joy shook her head. No. This wasn’t making sense. It couldn’t be—not Salma, not her friend. “Is she—is she okay? Is she stable?” That was the word they used in soaps and on

Casualty. Stable. Unstable meant death lurked close by. Joy’s throat closed up; she gripped the cupboard door very hard.

“For now.”

“That’s not,” Joy said through her aching, swollen throat. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, Victoriya.”

“Just get here. It’s bad enough Maisie can’t get in. We need you here.” The phone went silent and Joy lowered it, staring at the cupboard under the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” Bo asked, no trace of his usual charm and humour in his voice. Not even his deadly serious cop voice. He peeled her fingers from the door one by one and pulled her into a hug.

“Salma—” Joy couldn’t get out the rest. “I need to go to the clinic.”

He squeezed her once and let go when she could stand properly. “I’ll come with you.”

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