Page 7 of Callen's Captive
Chapter Two
CALLEN
Callen followed Kate through the streets. From the way she dodged in and out of the shadows, it became clear she’d been here before. She knew this place as well as he knew the woods in and around his pack’s territory. Already, he longed to be back home, surrounded by familiar scents and sounds, to have the freedom to shift whenever he wanted. To run, simply run for the sake of stretching muscles and enjoying the fresh air. Most of all, he missed the peace he found there. His wolf practically purred at the thought of returning home, but he couldn’t leave Kate, not when she was in danger.
This small woman with a pixie’s haircut and the bravado of a shifter wasn’t what he had expected. She was cautious, street-savvy, and decisive. Yet, she’d let Anna call her Katy, a name she didn’t like, all because she seemed to need a friend. How could someone as smart and beautiful as Kate not have any friends?
As they wove through the streets, he realized he hadn’t been among so many humans in a long time. He’d noticed the sneers and disgusted looks the humans had given him in the bar. No one had focused on his eyes, which is what he assumed would draw attention, given how the yellow had a tendency to overtake the brown when he was stressed.
He’d forgotten about how skin color mattered here in the human world, how he might be viewed differently than Blade or Frank on that basis alone. Back home, when others feared him it was because of his position as Damien’s enforcer—his reputation for being cold and callous when it came to doing his job—not because of his skin color. So many things were backward in the human world, like how one small female could be so alone, so harmless and yet have the entire WSSO hunting her.
“In here,” she said as she slid a piece of plywood aside and squeezed through the window of a condemned house several blocks from the town’s main street.
He pried the wood off to fit through as he followed her in. Once he was inside, he grabbed hold of her arm. “Wait here.” She didn’t object, which pleased him. She could easily have been one of those females that objected to or questioned everything a male did simply because they needed to assert their independence. Clearly, Kate was very independent, and she didn’t need to prove anything to him or anyone else.
The house was small, with two bedrooms off the back, a kitchen, bathroom, living room, and a basement. Yellow paint peeled from walls that bore gaping holes, as if someone had gone at them with a sledgehammer, and the ceiling had water stains with mold in the corners. The rug in the living room had been soaked through at one point and had obvious signs of mildew. The entire place stank of stale, putrid air, and given the droppings everywhere, one or more rodents called this place home. On the positive side, the house had running water and was far enough from the town’s main street to ensure some privacy. It would serve their purpose for the interim.
Kate plopped into a faded red recliner, sending a cloud of dust into the air. She didn’t try to hide her exhaustion. He’d like nothing more than to get her somewhere clean and safe, but they’d seen nearly a dozen mercenaries while weaving their way through the town.
She reached in her pack and withdrew a flashlight.
“Leave it off.”
“I can’t see well.”
“There’s nothing you need to see here.” He could see well enough for both of them.
“That’s not for you to decide, is it?”
“Bedroom,” he said, trying to keep his growl low. He wasn’t used to being challenged over security issues.
Kate grabbed her bag and raced for the window. He stepped into her path. “You said you’d hear me out before leaving.”
Brown eyes flickered toward the bedroom. “You getting laid wasn’t part of the deal.”
His wolf stirred at the idea as if he were a teen with nothing more important on his mind. Callen took a deep breath and reined in his emotionsandhis wolf. He didn’t know why he felt so unsettled around Kate, but he did.
“If you want to use the flashlight, you have to go to the bedroom where there aren’t any windows. I don’t want anyone seeing the light.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks reddened slightly. It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t a big talker. Blade had always accused him of being too quiet. Callen had always found silence worked better, especially in interrogations. Outside of work too, quite frankly. As alpha, Damien always had a commanding presence while Hayden was generally quiet, but knew how to speak up and oppose anyone, including Damien when he disagreed. Blade tended to be quick to speak, too quick, but he was a hell of a guy. Hell, Callen was thinking about Blade again, wondering if he, Anna, and Frank had made it back. He needed to get his mind off of them.
“Come on,” Callen said, taking Kate’s hand in his and guiding her to the bedroom. Once he shut the door and shoved an old blanket under the door, so no light would escape, he set her flashlight on a flimsy wooden desk and turned it on.
The stream of light revealed a room more dismal than the rest of the house. A dirty and disgusting mattress sat atop a rusty metal frame, making it only marginally better than the floor.
“Why would anyone ever live in a dump like this?” Callen mumbled under his breath.
“Are all shifters as spoiled as you?” Kate tossed her pack onto the bed, which groaned from the weight.
“Spoiled? Because I have enough pride in myself not to live in filth?”
Kate surveyed the room, her face crestfallen. “Do you see that small shelf over there? That’s where I kept my school books, the ones I found in the dumpster behind the school I used to attend before I had to leave.”
She opened the tiny closet and retrieved the sole hanger, white plastic with tiny bite marks from a small animal. Probably a mouse or rat.
“This was my only hanger, which was fine since I only owned one coat which I kept on during the winter, twenty-four seven.” Her fingers trailed over the dust-laden desk next, leaving five lines across the top. “I studied here by lantern at night. During the day, I was in the kitchen where I had sunlight. But I liked it best in here because it was warmer. Kind of hard to study, even stay awake, when you’re cold, no matter how many layers you have on.”
Callen’s heart sank as she moved on to the dresser next, with another story, painting a picture of life in this house, enough to make him wonder how long ago she’d lived here, how poor her parents had been that they couldn’t afford heat. And why she’d had to root through dumpsters for books, so she could educate herself instead of going to school which was free to all human children.
