Page 79 of Callen's Captive
* * *
KATE
Kate’s head throbbed, and she wondered if she was seeing double. There were two white wolves across from her, baring their teeth, and a brown and tan wolf directly in front of her, growling, except he was growling at the white wolves, and the white wolves were growling back at him. Only two shifters had taken her from the house. None of this made sense.
The growls were intensifying, but she had no idea what they were saying to one another, or if this was some weird posturing males did. She’d heard of dogs being food aggressive or possessive over toys. Oh, God. Were they getting ready to fight over her? Did they see her as some damn possession or meal? Whatever was happening, she wasn’t going down alone.
Slowly, Kate eased one arm out of her backpack straps, then swung the bag to her front. As she reached in, something sailed past her left side, clipping her and knocking her to the ground. A black wolf. Callen! He had pushed her out of the way, his long torso a vision of muscle and power as he extended his claws and sliced down the neck of the black and tan wolf. As the black and tan went down, the white wolves spread out, as if to surround Callen. Yellow eyes filled with rage.
Kate scrambled to her feet, pointed the gun at the white wolves, and cocked it. She would wait for Callen to attack one, and then she’d shoot the other. As she widened her stance, her foot struck the dying wolf. A hand grabbed her ankle, and she nearly jumped out of her boots. The dark-haired shifter wasn’t dead yet, but given the blood pouring from his neck, he would be soon.
Dark brown eyes were begging her for something. Finally, his lips moved as he struggled to speak. “Kate. . .”
* * *
CALLEN
Callen pitched his ears back as he landed to make sure he could hear Kate breathing. He heard her gun cock. Relief poured into him. She was alive and behind him, aiming a gun at the two white wolves. The cowards turned and ran. Smart move on their part.
“Kate,” a weak voice behind Callen called out. He knew that voice.
Callen spun around, disbelief making him freeze for a second, before his training kicked in. He shifted and threw his hands down on the wound at Blade’s neck.
“Give me your shirt, Kate!”
She didn’t hesitate to strip. His hand was already coated in Blade’s blood by the time she shoved the white cotton t-shirt into his hand. He pushed it against Blade’s artery and pressed down with all his strength.
“Tilt his head back, gently. Make sure he can breathe,” Callen ordered, thanking heaven he hadn’t sliced through Blade’s trachea.
Kate positioned herself behind Blade and carefully angled his head back. Blade’s eyes were closed, and Callen couldn’t stop the flow of blood.
“Callen?” Kate asked, her confusion clear, wondering what had happened, who this was.
“It’s Blade.” He couldn’t say more. The realization of what he’d done was too much. His best friend was lying on the ground, deathly pale. Too much blood coated Callen’s hands, the shirt, the ground beneath Blade.
“Your friend?”
The disbelief in her voice mirrored his own. He hadn’t recognized Blade’s scent, and he hadn’t seen him, only a glimpse of his coloring. Had he been positioned five inches to the left, he would have seen him, but that hadn’t been the best angle for the kill.
“I missed his trachea.” The horror of how much worse this situation would be if he had hit his target where Callen had wanted sank in.
“That’s good.”
“I shouldn’t have missed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s the first thing we’re taught when defending the pack. Destroy your opponent’s ability to breathe and move on to the next enemy. I struck his artery but missed the trachea.”
“Thank God for that.”
“There are arteries on each side, so slicing only one side doesn’t guarantee death if the shifter can apply pressure and give his body time to close the wounds. Crushing the trachea and slicing an artery leaves too much damage for our wolves to heal. Usually the shifter dies. Ripping the throat out entirely. . . There’s no coming back from that. I needed to get him away from you in the quickest way, but I didn’t have the right angle, or I would have. . . I would have killed him.”
“I think you’re in shock, Callen.”
“He’s strong,” Callen said. “He’ll make it,” he added, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.
“Tell me what I can do to help.”
