Callan: Outback Shifters #2

by Chant, Zoe

  But we still have to get there, she thought, clenching her jaw as Callan swerved the motorbike again, avoiding another attack by the van.

  Ella knew she’d go crazy if she tried to think through all the possibilities of what the person driving it might want just now, so instead, she tried to focus all her concentration on simply holding on.

  In front of her, she could see Callan glancing at the van, clearly calculating when it was likely to try to make its next attempt to push them off the road or force them to slow down. She supposed that was definitely an advantage they had over the driver of the van: the bike might not have been able to outrun it, but it was smaller and more agile, especially when being driven by someone who knew how to handle it. Given his skill, Callan would most likely be able to outmaneuver them.

  If we can get into the mountains proper, we might be able to lose them down one of the trails, Ella thought. In the next moment, however, all thoughts flew right out of her head – because the darkly tinted front passenger window of the van was slowly rolling down.

  Ella held her breath, staring, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever might be inside. They were keeping themselves out of view at the moment – Callan might have had a better angle to see their face, but Ella knew he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the road for more than a second at a time to check the van.

  Ella leaned forward, craning her neck – and gasped.

  I know that face.

  She did, too: red hair, pinched features. All jutting chin and prominent cheekbones, and a small, cruel mouth.

  It was the face of the man she’d seen at the coffee shop, staring at her. The one who’d shown up on the street corner only a few minutes later, still staring at her. The one she’d been convinced was only her paranoid imagination playing tricks on her, and was probably just some ordinary guy out for coffee.

  Clearly, she should have listened to her instincts when they’d told her the guy was a creep.

  More than a creep. A fucking kidnapper, who’s trying to run us off the road.

  The van made another swerve toward them. Again Callan skillfully avoided them, but the movement forced him to slow the bike slightly. Ella, holding on tightly to Callan’s sides, kept her eyes fixed on the half-open window – and the gun that had now emerged from it, the dark metal glinting in the afternoon sun.

  Oh. Shit.

  Panic flooded Ella’s mind.

  Is he just going to threaten us, or actually shoot?!

  Ella was pretty sure she wasn’t about to wait to find out.

  But what can I do? she thought desperately, as the gun leveled, pointing at Callan. She wasn’t even sure if he’d seen it.

  There’s got to be someth–

  Suddenly, the bottle of Coke she’d bought at the service station flashed into Ella’s mind. Without stopping to think, she took her hand from Callan’s side and shoved it into her bag, her fingers closing around its cool, plastic bulk.

  If it worked once, it’ll work twice, Ella thought as she pulled it out, taking less than a second to wind her arm back before hurling the bottle with all her might at the arm sticking out of the van window. It smacked square into the hand, throwing off its aim, jerking it to the side.

  She barely heard the BANG as the gun fired, but she did see the flash from the barrel. She sucked in a quick breath – had the bottle smacking into it been enough?

  The motorbike remained steady, and Callan didn’t seem to be affected – so Ella had to assume he hadn’t been shot. Relief surged through her, replacing the terror she’d felt only a moment before, but she knew things were hardly over yet. Guns generally had more than one bullet in them. She, on the other hand, was completely out of bottles of Coke.

  But as she watched, she realized something was wrong with the van – it swerved, but not with the intention to hit them this time. Rather, it was moving erratically, as if the driver no longer had control over the vehicle.

  What’s going on in there? Ella wondered – but clearly, Callan had no intention of staying to find out. As the van lost speed while the driver fought to maintain control, Callan zipped past it, pushing the bike’s engine to its limits. Ella gulped down a surge of motion sickness as Callan steered the bike in a serpentine motion, making them a far harder target to hit. Not that it would have been easy anyway to get them from behind, unless the man – men? Ella wondered, since the gun had come out of the passenger’s side window – wanted to shoot out his own windscreen.

  Ella glanced over her shoulder. The van was losing ground on them every second, falling farther and farther behind.

  “Hold on,” Callan called to her as they rounded a bend in the road, before Callan turned the bike and took it down a smaller, branching road. It wasn’t surfaced, and Ella had to lean into him as she was jostled in the saddle. They bumped down the uneven dirt road, the trees growing thicker and thicker around them the further they went.

  Ella almost didn’t dare to look over her shoulder again to see if the van had recovered itself and was following them. The road – though it was more of a track, really – seemed too narrow for such an imposing vehicle to follow them down, anyway. The trees pressed close around them, and scrubby vegetation was beginning to take over the already bumpy track.

  She wasn’t sure how long they’d been riding down it when Callan slowed the bike enough to pull up, putting his foot down on the ground as he stopped.

  “We lose them?”

  Ella shook her head, swallowing. “Maybe? I can’t see them coming. I don’t think they could drive down here in that monster van, anyway.”

  Callan pulled his visor the full way up, before taking the helmet off. Ella was struck once again by just how gorgeous he was – those dark eyes, full lips, the square jaw and the stubble…

  She blinked, realizing he’d asked her a question, and forced herself to focus.

  “Sorry, what was that?”

  “Have you ever seen those guys before?” Callan asked, and then paused, a smile tugging at his lips. “And nice throw, by the way. Clearly I’ve been underestimating groceries as weapons all this time. That was amazing.”

  Feeling a blush creeping up her neck, Ella shook her head. “I had to do something. You seemed like you had your hands full.”

  Callan nodded. “It’s appreciated. I didn’t need to be dealing with that as well as steering the bike. Would’ve been a bit distracting.”

  “You would’ve had a lot more than a distraction if you’d actually got shot,” Ella said. For a moment, she saw Callan hesitate, opening his mouth as if he was about to deny that having a bullet in him would be anything more than a minor hassle – but then he closed it again without saying anything.

  Ella frowned, but she decided she had more important things to focus on right now than someone’s macho posturing. Oh, I’m hit? No problem babe, haven’t you seen action movies?

  It would have been at odds with the unassuming personality Callan had displayed so far, but Ella had to admit that from a guy who looked like Callan did, she was still kind of expecting it.

  Which isn’t really fair, she told herself. And if I’m going to trust him, I better act like it.

  “Anyway, I didn’t answer your question,” Ella said. “I have seen that guy before – the one on the passenger’s side, anyway. I thought – well. I guess now I know he’s been following me around for a couple of weeks. At the time he kind of gave me the creeps, but I didn’t really think much about it. I guess I really should have taken it more seriously.”

  “If he didn’t actually do or say anything to you, then it would’ve been hard to know what he had in mind,” Callan said, cocking his head. “Anyway, if those guys are who I think they are, it would’ve been impossible to know what they had in mind anyway.”

  Ella bit her lip, staring up into Callan’s eyes. Confusion and fear swelled within her – now that they were out of immediate danger, she felt all the emotions she’d been suppressing begin to bubble up inside her, threatening to take over. />
  Okay, no. Just stay calm and breathe.

  “This has something to do with my father, doesn’t it,” she finally said, when she felt she could trust her voice not to shake. “Or… I don’t know, something he’s done. Isn’t that right?”

  She stared into Callan’s eyes, and saw a flash of sympathy there that told her she’d guessed correctly.

  Not that she had many other explanations for what had been going on – and definitely not for the phone call.

  “Ella, it’s complicated,” Callan said, his voice quiet. “Has your father contacted you?”

  “I… no. I don’t think so.” She shook her head. She barely remembered her father’s voice, but she didn’t think he’d sounded like the man on the phone. She realized that she had once again raised her hand unconsciously to grip the pendant where it lay against her chest. Impatiently, she pulled her hand away.

  She took a deep breath, swallowing. “Well, if it’s a complicated situation, don’t you think I’m owed an explanation?” she asked, keeping her eyes trained on Callan’s. “Because after the day I’ve had, I really feel like I’m entitled to one.”

  Callan nodded. “You are. But I’d like to ask you a favor, too.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I’d like you to tell me where we’re going, and why. Why you’re so set on getting out to this place in the middle of nowhere. What you expect to find there.”

  “All right, but you answer my questions first,” Ella said. “You said you’re a cop, but you didn’t show me any ID. You said you might know who the guy who’s stalking me is. And I’m guessing you know something about my father that I don’t.”

  “Fair enough,” Callan said, nodding. “I’ll tell you everything I can. But before we go any further, Ella, I have to ask you: do you trust me?”

  Ella blinked, surprise rippling through her. It was a fair question, though. She’d met Callan less than an hour ago, and now she was about to – she assumed – go traipsing into the wilderness with him.

  “I suppose I don’t have many reasons to,” she said slowly. “I could think you were sent by whoever wants to kidnap me, and that whole thing with the van was a setup to make me think I can trust you. You know – make it look like you saved my life.”

  Callan nodded. “I suppose you could see it that way,” he said slowly. He cocked his head, his dark brown eyes intent on hers. “But is that really what you believe? Is that what your instincts are telling you is true?”

  Ella hesitated. His eyes on hers were almost mesmerizing. “No,” she admitted after a long pause. “No, it’s not. I don’t know why, but –”

  She cut herself off, shaking her head. Nothing had been making sense lately. But she did know that there was something about Callan that was making her believe everything he said. It wasn’t a situation she’d ever imagined herself in, to think about how she might act or what she’d do. She’d never considered that one day, some musclebound hunk would burst into her life and give her the equivalent of the Come with me if you want to live line.

  “I’d like to,” she finally finished. “Like I said, I don’t know why. But I do. I want to.”

  “You don’t need to say any more, Ella.” Callan’s voice was a low rumble. “We both have a lot of questions for each other. But right now, I think we need to put some more distance between us and that van.”

  Ella nodded. “I agree – but how much further do you think we can go on the bike?”

  “Not far,” Callan said, glancing up at the dense bushland. “And I don’t think we should stick that closely to the hiking trails. They’ll be hard enough to shake off as it is.”

  She glanced at him, frowning. The number one rule as a hiker going out to wilderness areas was Don’t leave the trails. And what did Callan mean when he said the men in the van would be hard to shake off?

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Not usually, but I can tell you now, I’ve got a couple of tricks up my sleeve,” Callan said. “I know I told you I’m a cop, but that’s not the whole story. I’m an undercover law agent, and wilderness survival is my specialty. I know how to live out here for weeks at a time if I have to – though let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, obviously.”

  “Is that why you don’t have ID?” Ella asked.

  Callan nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. Not much good as an undercover operative if you carry your agent identification around on you.”

  “All right, I guess I can accept that,” Ella said, admitting to herself that it was a pretty good reason. It didn’t inspire much confidence in her that she was just dealing with a little blip in her otherwise normal life and that she’d be able to get back to business as usual anytime soon, though. Undercover law agent sounded like something out of a spy movie. She didn’t need to get dragged into one of those!

  To be honest, a small part of her was still kind of waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of the bushes with a camera, screaming Punk’d!... but was that show even on anymore?

  I haven’t had time to watch TV in years, Ella thought, a little sadly. All my pop culture references are dated as hell.

  At least she knew what she’d do in a spy movie situation now, she supposed: she’d dwell on irrelevant shit.

  Ella shook her head, forcing herself to focus.

  “So, when you say you want to put some distance between us and those guys…”

  “I mean we leave, now. We cover up the bike and we head out toward your co-ordinates as fast as we can on foot. And somewhere along the way, we answer each other’s questions.” Callan paused as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way Ella found hard not to stare at. “And maybe explain a few more things to each other as well.”

  “I can live with that plan,” Ella said, nodding.

  “All right, it’s a deal.”

  Callan smiled at her then – a dazzling flash of white teeth against his brown skin that left Ella catching her breath, her head reeling. It took her a couple of seconds to come back to herself, and realize that Callan was kneeling by the pannier slung over the front of the bike, frowning.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Hmm. Looks like I found out where that bullet went,” Callan said. “The one you probably stopped from hitting me – which believe me, I appreciate.”

  Ella took a couple of steps toward him, and then saw it – the neat little bullet hole in the leather of the bag.

  “Oh. Sorry. I hope there wasn’t anything important in there.”

  Callan glanced up at her. “Well – a little important.” He unbuckled the bag, reaching inside. Ella grimaced when he withdrew his hand and she saw what he was holding: a small, radio-looking device, which now had a bullet hole punched right through it.

  “Is that bad?” she asked, as Callan examined it.

  “It’s… not great,” he said. “That’s the device I use to let my boss know where I am – and it’s synched up to a receiver back at HQ, which automatically encrypts any messages I send him. Without it, I can’t safely make contact.”

  Ella bit her lip. She was pretty sure she knew what that meant, but she wanted to be sure.

  “So, in other words… we’re on our own?”

  Callan nodded. “Unless I can fix this – which is possible, I guess, but I don’t think we should sit here trying to find out right now. We need to move. And move fast.”

  Without another word, he put the radio device back into the pannier, before picking the whole thing up and slinging it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all.

  Ella watched, her knees wobbling ever so slightly, as he unbuckled the saddlebag on the back of the bike and hoisted it over his other shoulder.

  Just how strong is he? she found herself wondering – he looked almost as if he could pick her up with one hand, without so much as breaking a sweat.

  Callan glanced over his shoulder at her, cocking his head.

  “Ready?”

  Ella hesitated only the briefes
t second – and in that second, Callan extended his hand out to her.

  And to her own surprise, she reached out and took it.

  Her palm tingled where it touched his, and Ella swallowed.

  “Ready,” she said.

  Chapter 6

  Ella hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said she was an experienced hiker, Callan thought. She’d kept pace with him easily, even in the heavy scrub they were walking through. She was strong and she didn’t waver. When he looked at her, he saw only determination in her eyes.

  Our mate is strong and brave – as I always knew she would be, his diprotodon said, as direct in its approval as always. We were right to help her.

  Callan knew, of course, that it was right. He had his mission, but the Agency often gave its agents a fairly wide-ranging brief, and allowed them to make decisions on the ground as they saw fit. He couldn’t pretend to himself that Robb would be overjoyed at this turn of events – especially since, with his radio broken, he couldn’t call in his location and explain the situation – but he hoped it wouldn’t be evisceration-worthy, either literally or metaphorically.

  No one can stop us from assisting our mate when she is in need, his diprotodon said, in a low, dangerous growl. We do not care about the cost.

  You don’t care about the cost, Callan told it. Though even as he said it, he knew that he would never have refused Ella’s request, even if his diprotodon had had no opinion about it. He’d asked her if she trusted him, but that trust went both ways: he trusted her that if she was that determined to head out to the location she’d given him, then there had to be a damn good reason for it.

  And she is determined, Callan thought, thinking of the set of her jaw and the hardness of her eyes when she’d told him there was no way she was going back to Canberra. Maybe together we can figure out just what the hell is going on here.

  The men in the van – Callan had seen two of them, one driving, one in the passenger’s seat – hadn’t been messing around. As he thought back over what had happened, Callan felt the animal rage of a shifter protecting its mate from deadly danger rise up within him.