Caged

  “Yeh’re not from ‘round these parts, are yeh?”

  “Er … no.” Samuel glanced at me over his shoulder, like he could use a little guidance on what to say to the woman. I spiralled my finger through the air, telling him to wrap it up, and he turned back. “You couldn’t tell us where we are, I suppose?”

  “Aye, yeh’re in Winnedown.”

  Samuel scratched at his hair again. “And … that would be … where?”

  A small cackled laugh resonated from the woman. “In Yorkshire, lad.”

  He nodded. “So, if we follow the road from here, where will that take us?”

  I motioned for the others to start forward, ensuring Gabe and Lauren took the lead with me, to hide what a human would consider indecent when it came to Brook’s and Kyle’s appearance.

  “If yeh follow the road out ‘til yeh hit the main road, yeh’ll eventually wind up in the town of Huddlesbridge.”

  “Is there a phone box on the way?” I called as the woman came into my line of sight. The sooner I called Dad, the sooner we could get home and start organising the cleanup.

  Light danced in her eyes as she sent me a smile. “Well, if yeh wanted to use the phone, why didn’ yeh just say?”

  • • •

  We didn’t actually walk on the road out from the farmhouse. If any vehicles chose that route, no way would we have gone unnoticed, so we stuck to the fields, using hedgerows as cover.

  The call home to Dad had gone as expected. His heavy sigh had revealed his relief, followed by his single question of, ‘Do you know where you are, Son?’ Despite a suggestion from the farmer’s wife to await collection in the hay barn, I’d given Dad details of the road and direction we’d be following. I couldn’t afford to place the family in danger if the vampires decided to come searching. As soon as I’d relayed the size of our party, he’d responded with, ‘We’ll be there as soon as we can’.

  Although the generous offer of the woman had gone unaccepted, she’d refused to let us leave without filling us up with hot drinks, cake and bananas. She didn’t say a word when we polished off a coffee cake, as well as a carrot cake, and worked through three pots of tea—nor about our non-attire, which left me questioning just how many strange occurrences went on in what I presumed to be the Yorkshire Dales.

  Our refuelled energy reserves showed in each step we took, in the way we held our heads higher as we strolled across grass that spread off to the south like a rustic patchwork quilt.

  Brook hogged my side as I led the party, a slight limp to her left leg where she’d trodden on a stinger the size of a savoy cabbage. “I should explain,” she murmured.

  For some reason, the low volume of her voice had me glancing behind to check the proximity of the others before I asked, “Explain what?”

  “About Paul.”

  “What’s to explain?” The interaction between them had become pretty clear. “He seduced you into thinking he gave a shit so he could get you alone and spring his damn trap. Catherine used the same trick on Kyle.”

  “But how long for?” she asked.

  I peered down at the hurt in her eyes, and wanted to say something to ease it, yet didn’t have a clue what that something could be.

  “For weeks, Paul fooled me into thinking he was …”

  Special? “An okay guy?”

  She nodded.

  “You shouldn’t feel bad about it.” Fury roiled beneath the hurt in her eyes—an emotion I guessed she aimed at herself more than the vampire. “You probably weren’t the first person Paul pulled the stunt on, just as I doubt you were the last.”

  The firm set of her mouth told me she wanted to argue, to beat herself up over it some more, but instead she nodded. “Thank you.”

  “No worries. How’s the foot?”

  “I have had worse injuries and survived.”

  I turned to walk backward, taking in the others. “How’s everyone else holding up—you okay?”

  Mumbled words of affirmation and nods came from Samuel and Lauren, who’d taken middle position. Gabe nodded, too, behind them, but beside him, Kyle’s eyes flitted between Brook and me before I received his nod, and he murmured, “Just fine and dandy.”

  • • •

  An estimated hour later, figuring it wouldn’t be that much longer before the convoy showed up, I brought us all to a halt at a field gate that overlooked the main road to Huddlesbridge. Gabe got the job of gatekeeper as someone without open wounds and a familiarity with the pack, and Samuel propped forward against the bars next to him. The rest of us flopped onto the grass either side of the rutted wheel tracks that led to the field exit.

  “You shall be home soon.” Brook’s voice drifted across as she spoke to Lauren. “Your mother will be relieved, yes?”

  Knees drawn up and tucked beneath her chin, the young girl gave a small bob of her head as emotion glistened in her eyes.

  “So …” Kyle murmured beside me. “You and the shifter seem to get on pretty well.”

  I peered down at Kyle lying on his front with his chin wedged between his fists. “She seems okay.”

  His hands stretched the skin across his cheeks. “Thought you had a thing for …” His attention flickered across to Gabe for a split second. “… someone else.”

  “What’s that got to do with …” I followed his gaze to Brook, where she sat passing daisies to Lauren for the girl to weave into a flora-chain. My brows shot up. “It’s you who has a thing,” I whispered, staring back down at Kyle. “For a damn cat.”

  “No, I don’t.” His focus snapped back to me. “That’d be moronic.”

  “Yeah.” The notion of feline and canine united in such an alien sense refused to gel inside my brain. “Yeah, it would.”

  Engines growled in the distance. It took mere seconds to establish they were coming our way. I looked up at Gabe to see if he’d heard, but he’d already climbed onto the gate and leaned far enough forward to hang over the road. Kyle bolted up to a seated position, telling me he’d heard them, too.

  My shoulders tensed. My breaths stalled as I unconsciously held them.

  As first one, and another, then a third familiar rumble grew louder, and I recognised the pitches of Dad’s, Connor’s and Daniel’s trucks, I blew out in relief.

  “Cavalry’s here.” Gabe leapt over the gate.

  29

  Connor’s truck rolled away first with the two females in the back. Lauren’s wide green eyes stared out the rear window a bit before she turned around. In Daniel’s Toyota Hi-Lux in front of us, I could make out Kyle in the front seat with his red hair sticking up all over the place, and Samuel’s almost-black hair made a dark contrast beside Gabe’s blond on the rear bench.

  Ordered by Dad, he and I shared his newly-bought Ford pickup, and his hands tightened around the steering wheel as he followed Daniel and pulled away.

  I figured he had a whole heap to say to me, despite the relief etched into his features since the second he’d drawn alongside the gate.

  Rather than wait, I blew out a breath and dived straight in. “How’s Shelley?”

  “She’s not doing too well, Son. Hasn’t been since she had to tell us you’d gone missing. Something she only figured out once she realised you hadn’t taken your mobile or shoes … from the hotel room”—his voice deepened to a low growl, and the steering wheel groaned beneath his crippling grip—“which she apparently shared with you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  “For what?” He glanced at me before returning his attention to the road and manoeuvring us around a harsh bend to the right. “For lying to me about where you’d be? For disobeying a direct order and splitting up with Kyle, which placed the two of you in a danger we didn’t know you’d be able to walk away from? For your dishonesty over your relationship with Shel
ley?” He paused, and I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it again at his glower. “Or for the tears that have spilled from your mother and Jem since Shelley’s phone call?”

  I cringed. “I said I was sorry, Dad.” My jaw clenched. “But don’t ask me to apologise for anything that happened between Shelley and me … because I won’t—I’m … not.”

  “I never said what happened between you and Shelley was wrong.” On the approach to a T-junction, he followed Connor’s and Daniel’s lead and flicked his indicator up. “But you shouldn’t have lied about it.”

  “I didn’t.”

  A low rumble preceded his growl. “Withholding information from your Alpha does not un-constitute it as a lie, Ethan.”

  I twisted in my seat to stare at him. “I didn’t withhold anything from you, either.” As arctic frostiness in his eyes revealed his fury, I rushed on. “I didn’t, Dad. None of what happened was planned. We … I made a bad choice with regards to staying at the hotel—which I’ll take full responsibility for—but me and Shelley? We just …” … finally got our act together. I sighed and leaned my head back against the seat.

  Minutes passed with only the engine’s low grumble as the soundtrack. Hedgerows whizzed past, their natural shades darkening as the daylight showed signs of making way for night. The smell of leather, saturated in the pack’s body odours, permeated the truck’s cabin, as did a discarded sweater of Jem’s in the backseat, and for the first time in days, stiffness began its slow seep out of my shoulders.

  “You’re hurt.” Dad spoke without taking his attention off the road. “How badly?”

  “It’s nothing,” I mumbled.

  “Last time I heard those words from you, you had a hairline fracture in your skull. So, how badly are you hurt?” His voice held more force the second time. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I see in your eyes that something bad has gone on, Ethan.”

  “Just scratches, Dad. They’ll be healed in a day or so.” I lifted my right foot to the seat and hooked an arm around my knee. As I shifted to lean against the door, the glass offered a coolness that soothed the ache affecting my entire body. “It’s not me you need to worry about.”

  When his lips pursed, I thought he’d argue some more. Instead, he said, “Kyle stank of blood. You want to tell me about his injuries as you obviously don’t want to talk about your own?”

  I ignored his insistence that he have the last say. “Kyle got messed up pretty bad. The worst of his wounds are beneath his shirt … not as bad as Gabe’s, though—except Gabe’s are all healing already.”

  He turned to me, eyebrow raised. “They happened before you got there, I presume?”

  I nodded, peering off across fields turned bottle green as long shadows stretched out to claim them. “They’ve well and truly screwed the kid up.” I rubbed a hand across my face, sensing Dad’s eyes on me as the truck slowed for a stop sign. “And I don’t know if we can fix him.”

  “The doc should already be at the house; I called him before we set off.” He meant our family doctor, who Dad paid big sums of money to treat us without questioning his discoveries. Doctor Monkton—Craig to us—had been treating the pack since before I was born. “He’ll sort him out.”

  “What if …” I clenched my jaw, and tapped a fisted hand against my raised knee as I drew in a long breath, my exhalation rushing past my lips. “What if he can’t, Dad? What the hell am I supposed to tell Shelley?”

  “We’ll tell Shelley everything. As his mother, she deserves to know. And if she’s important to you,”—he aimed a probing stare my way before facing forward again—“she’s owed your honesty.”

  The skin tightened around my eyes as I considered what outcome my honesty could bring, but I shoved the thought out as fast as it entered.

  Dad accelerated and shifted the gearstick into fifth as we hit a straight stretch of road. “In the meantime, you can tell me what you know.”

  I raked my fingers into my hair, fisting them in there. “I don’t even know where to start. It’s a mess. A huge mess.”

  “Just start at the beginning.”

  I lowered my hand. “Can I call Shelley first? I should at least let her know we have Gabe.”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer to just collect her and take her home with us?”

  My father—the sage; even when furious with me, he never lost sight of how I felt or what I needed. I sighed. “Yeah, I would.”

  “Good.” His twist of the lamp lever spilled light across the road in front of us as more shades of darkness affected the land. “Now, fill me in.”

  • • •

  Clouds dominated the sky, light washed across the pavement from the streetlamps, and specks of rain decorated the windscreen as Dad secured the truck’s handbrake outside Shelley’s home. I stared at the distractions until they merged into an incomprehensible pattern of nothingness whilst trying to figure out how to word my apology to her.

  “What are you waiting for?” Dad kept his voice quiet, yet it still carried over the idling engine.

  “Nothing.” I looked past his profile at the house, my heart banging around like a mutant moth pumped with steroids at the thought of seeing Shelley again.

  “Faced with a deranged wolf and you’re fearless.” When he turned to me, I expected humour to mark his features, but only a deep concern lined his face. “So why do you look terrified about going in there to speak to Shelley?” His eyebrow lifted. “Would you like me to go in and ask her to come?”

  I shook my head, peered away. “How mad is she … with me?”

  “She’s furious. Apparently, you broke a promise to her.”

  I wanted to argue. It hadn’t been a promise. The wordage didn’t matter, though. I’d told her I was going nowhere and did the exact opposite. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees, brushed a hand across my sticking-up hair.

  “How much do you like her?”

  I tried to blank out his curiosity and deep breathed in preparation for stepping from the truck.

  “When did this happen?” Dad asked.

  At his hand on my shoulder, I glanced up. “What?”

  “When did my boy fall in love without my noticing?”

  An obstacle the size of a plum lodged in my throat. “He didn’t.” I opened the door, climbing out into a cool breeze and drizzle against my torso before spinning back to him. “Shelley and I just … gel.”

  “Denial won’t solve a thing, Ethan.” His serious gaze locked onto mine.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I ducked away and rounded the pickup, mounting the kerb to the pavement. I’d only taken one step onto Shelley’s path when the front door to her house swung open.

  “Ethan?” Her whisper drifted along the walkway as the sight of her froze me to the spot.

  I wanted to avert my focus, to take a moment, if only for composure, to better prepare myself, but my mind refused to allow the action to happen. Not even the falling rain offered distraction. Instead, my right shoulder lifted in a stupid half-shrug. “Hey.”

  Her eyes shone as she released her hold on the door and shuffled forward. She paused for a beat or two before stepping outside.

  Unable to read her expression, I waited—truly unsure for the first time ever what to do. With each foot of path she covered toward me, my heart beat harder; my breaths came shorter. The streetlamp illumination burned her hair to a fiery red, which matched the heat in her stare, and all I could think about was the taste of her on my lips.

  I forced the thought aside. “Shel, I’m so—oomph.”

  Her punch into my solar plexus stole my breath with a force I wouldn’t have considered her capable of. She followed up with a second from her left hand, thankfully swinging a little wide to hit with full impact.

  “You”—she smacked against my shoulder�
��“bloody”—a thump rippled through my chest—“arse. How could you?” A triple pounding hit the other side of my chest—each one knocking me back an inch. “How could you lie to me?”

  The second accusation of the day. “Shelley, I didn—agh.” My jaw vibrated beneath another blow as it resonated across my chin.

  “Bastard!” Another thump landed against my chest.

  “Shelley, will you le—ugh.” I choked on the word beneath her jab into my throat, and with a growl, I thrust out my arms to grip her hips.

  “Bastard!”

  More pummels rained across my upper arms as I strode forward with her squirming body between my palms.

  “Put me down!”

  Her feet kicked at my knees hard enough to bruise.

  “Now, Ethan!”

  A smack against my ear banged my head against the doorframe as I pushed inside the house. I gritted my teeth against any retaliation and ducked against another blow.

  Three more steps took us to the wall where I pinned Shelley with my chest. Nuzzling my nose against her throat, I inhaled the scent pulsating from her.

  “Please stop,” I murmured when her fists started on my shoulder blades.

  Each fresh hit arrived with a grunt or a sob and less strength than the last. Her body wriggled beneath mine; her knees knocked against my thighs.

  I released her hips, and took her arms, urging them down to her sides, and folding my own around her tiny frame.

  Her deep breaths heaved her chest against mine.

  Closing my eyes, I pushed my face into the hair teasing her neck. “Shelley, I found him.”

  Her entire body went rigid except for the flexing of her fingers brushing against my waist. “Say that again,” she whispered.

  “I found Gabe.”

  Her body shuddered beneath an erupted sob. “Where is he—why isn’t he here?” Her struggles kicked back in. When I lifted my face, the high shine of dread in her eyes matched the spike of fear drenching her scent. “Why haven’t you brought him home?” Her voice pitched high with anxiety. “He can’t … he can’t be—”