Page 14 of Callen's Captive
Chapter Four
CALLEN
Ineed you, Callen. Her words reverberated in his head. Nothing made sense, except his drive to help her, to get her somewhere safe. The men who tortured him would be back, and they would kill her. Briggs had made that quite clear each time he had cut Callen’s chest or beat him with a pipe like he was a damned piñata.
The pain riddling his body seemed too great to overcome. His wolf was working hard, trying to repair the damage, but there were too many injuries. Healing would take time, time he couldn’t waste sitting here while she was in danger.
By sheer will alone, Callen sat up and took Kate’s hand. This small brave woman who had risked herself to come back for him tucked herself under his left arm and strained to support him. He’d crush her if he let her take all of his weight, so he let her steady him, which he desperately needed. In addition to having a broken arm and several broken ribs, his balance was off. Briggs had dealt him one too many blows to the head.
“Where to?” he asked. They were in the middle of a town he didn’t know, and they were miles from the woods. The woods were his domain, not this rat-infested town full of broken-down buildings and people who preyed on their own. Even with her help, he wasn’t sure he could make it to the woods. If he collapsed, she’d never be able to carry him.
“I know of a place that doesn’t get used too often. Not sure you’re gonna like it though.”
“Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s not here. Start walking.”
She knew the town like a rat knows the sewers, dodging between houses in areas that had dead ends, except for the small holes in fences or bushes that they squeezed through to bypass busy streets. In all, she led him through the town while avoiding police, street cameras, and every-day people.
The stand-alone one-story building she brought him to was tucked away behind a rundown strip-mall that appeared to be in business. They’d have to be careful coming and going, not that they’d stay long. A few days to heal, and then he’d take her back to his pack. It was the only safe place for her, at least for the short term,ifDamien let her stay.
There was a distinct possibility Damien would turn her away, given how determined the WSSO was to have her. The WSSO had already attacked their pack once. Damien wasn’t likely to risk another attack by the WSSO, but Damien had heart and protected his allies.
By the time Kate entered the code on the door’s keypad and helped him inside, it was pitch black outside. Her flashlight didn’t extend far, but then again, the shop was only fifty or so feet long. From the smell of ink and machine oil and the size of the machines in the back, he guessed she’d found an old-fashioned printing shop. No computers and scanners here. Nothing was high tech, except the door lock to the building.
Kate led him to a sofa in the office, where he gladly slumped onto the lumpy cushions. He was beyond tired and his eyes were threatening to close despite the uncertainty of their situation. He needed to ensure they were safe, but he was useless in his current condition. He’d have to trust Kate, trust that she knew what she was doing.
“How often?”
“Excuse me?” she said as she rifled through the desk drawers, looking for something.
“How often is this place used? Shifters heal faster than humans, but it still takes time.”
“Once every few weeks or months. They’re not on a schedule, if that’s what you’re asking. I can stay awake while you rest. Unless Briggs finds us, we should be fine here, at least through the weekend.” She moved to the closet, searching for something.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for a first aid kit. Ah, the bathroom!” She disappeared into the print shop before he could tell her he didn’t need bandages or medicine. He needed time to heal.
When she returned, she was carrying a wet towel. “No emergency supplies, but I can get you cleaned up.”
“It’s not necessary.” Callen eased his head back against the sofa. Every part of him felt like it was on fire. “I need to sleep a bit, that’s all.”
The cold towel cleaning his face jarred him alert, but then he quickly settled when her fingers glided along his cheek.
“It’s me. Kate,” she said, her voice calm and soothing. Without another word, she began cleaning his face, mindful of his bruises. He couldn’t sleep now, even if he wanted to. Having her so near, having her soft hands brush over his face, neck, and chest had woken every nerve in his body. Her touch soothed him as the wet rag cooled his heated skin.
Diligently, she worked her way around and over every bruise and cut, taking great care in how she touched him. He’d known her slightly over twenty-four hours, but already he liked what he saw in her. It was a shame she wasn’t shifter. When she started wiping the blood and grime off of his shoulders, he shuddered.
“I’ll see if I can find a blanket or something for you to wear after I clean your wounds.”
It wasn’t the cool air striking his skin that made him shiver, but he wasn’t going to tell her that or anything that would cause her to pull away. Her touch was a type of medicine in and of itself, one he sorely needed right now. He hadn’t been worked over like that in a long time and despite his position in the pack, he’d been mentally and physically unprepared for it.
Always the same question from Briggs. . .Where is she?Callen didn’t know much about Kate. Not her hiding places, her likes, and dislikes, not even what she’d done to make the WSSO want to kill her. Not that he would have divulged any information about her to Briggs. He would never endanger her.
“Why do they want you dead?”
“That’s a long story.”
Long or not, he needed to know. The WSSO made the elimination of shifters their mission in life. Killing a human risked gaining the attention of the government, which so far had remained relatively neutral when it came to shifters. Over a hundred years ago, representatives from all the shifter races had reached an agreement with the U.S. government. Shifters would stay out of trouble and not harm any humans, and in return shifters would be left alone, free to live apart from humans and govern themselves without being subject to U.S. laws. It wasn’t exactly the same as having citizenship and being guaranteed rights, but the arrangement had worked, more or less, especially since most shifters kept to themselves in the woods, away from the cities.
