From the other image, brilliant blue eyes stared out at me from beneath a shock of pale blond curls.
“Oh, shit!” I pushed to my feet, took a step forward. “That’s ...”
“Nineteen year old Gabriel Lewis was believed by his mother to be staying at Colum Delaney’s since Friday evening, whilst Colum’s parents ...”
Dad stood, retracting his mobile from his jeans pocket, as I worked my own out. He paused, nodded to me. “Go on. You make the call, Ethan.”
Shelley Lewis’s number had been saved in my phone book since the beginning of the year, right after we met for the first time. I hit dial and paced to the window. September sunshine, of the early morning variety, blinded me as my phone rang.
It took only a few trills for her to answer. “Ethan?” Her voice held hope, as well as a heavy weariness and the thickness of tears.
“Is it true?” I’d promised to support her—a lone parent, a female no less, raising a werewolf son with no guidance. So far, I’d delivered on that promise.
The sob hitting my ear gave confirmation enough. “Oh, Ethan.”
“Hold tight, Shelley. I’m on my way.”
“I’ll come with you,” Dad said, as I hung up and spun to him.
“Shout Sean, too—in case we need to do any scouting. I think I heard him stir upstairs.”
“What about Connor’s lot?” The Larsen’s made up the other half of our eight-wolf pack, but lived separately to us on the south side of the forest.
Dad shook his head. “I’ll update Connor whilst you deal with Sean—”
“And Jem?” I asked with a lifted eyebrow.
Dad’s lips twitched, but he continued as though he hadn’t noticed my reference to his buck-passing. “Just the three of us will go. Connor and his boys can spend the morning here and stay close to Jem and your mother unless we need them.”
***
“Oh, come on.” Jem waddled after us down the driveway to the truck, her outstretched arms doing a crazy windmill dance. “Let me come.” She turned to Sean, my brother—her mate. “Baby, let me—”
“No, Jem.” He stepped forward, sweeping a hand across her swollen mound of a stomach. “Gabe is the seventh werewolf to go missing since middle July. Seven in seven weeks. You expect me to allow you out in public whilst this is happening?”
“Jem?” Mum called from the doorstep. “Let them go.”
The set of Jem’s jaw clammed her lips together as she turned. “You’re not helping, Beth.”
“That’s because I agree with them.” Mum descended the steps. “And don’t think I won’t be keeping a close watch on you this time.” The previous time Jem had been left in Mum’s care, she’d snuck out to come find us; Mum had not been amused. She linked her arm through Jem’s. “Let them go.”
Jem’s mouth opened and closed. She went back to Sean and tugged on his arm. “Don’t be long, okay?” The resignation of losing the battle showed in her tone.
“I won’t be.” Something stirred within me, as Sean squatted down and placed a kiss against her navel. “Take care of our boy.”
“Or girl,” Jem murmured.
Sean smiled. “Our bambino.”
***
We arrived at Shelley’s just before nine a.m.. Like she’d been looking out for us, the front door to her house opened the moment the truck drew to a stop. I didn’t have to get close to see the panic in her eyes and the deep blush of unrelenting emotions in her face.
The slam of my door drowned out her delicate steps along the path to greet us. Her hands reached out, as if she considered us her lifeline, before she pressed her fingers against her lips. “I can’t thank you enough for coming.” A shiver jerked her tiny shoulders as she spoke; three singular tears rolled down cheeks still red, probably from an earlier batch.
“Come on.” I slid my arm around her and drew her to my side. “Let’s go in.”
Her crown barely reached my armpit as she leaned into me and allowed me to guide her toward the house. Behind us, Sean and Dad’s feet hit the path.
The brightness of the day gleamed through the window, bathing Shelley’s magnolia-coloured home in warmth and light. Four dirty mugs sat beside her mobile and house phones on the coffee table. A burgundy throw, which matched the deep shade of her hair, lay scrunched into a heap on the sofa as though Shelley had spent the night there on constant vigil.
I walked her across the room and sat her down, but she pushed back up.
“Please don’t make me sit.” She worried at the nail on her thumb. “I’m so sick of sitting and waiting for everyone else to do their job.” Her gaze met mine. “Do you think it’s like those others?”
“When did you last see him, Shel?” I asked.
“Friday.” Her fidgeting feet brushed over the carpet as the two armchairs creaked beneath Sean and Dad’s weight. “Friday dinnertime. Is it like the other disappearances?”
I frowned. “Friday was four days ago.”
“He was staying at his friend’s. He wants more independence—doesn’t like me hassling him all the time. I thought he’d be okay.” Her eyes beseeched me as she tilted up. “He promised they’d be indoors before dark. Col’s parents were away the weekend—”
“Colum Delaney?” The other kid from the news.
Shelley nodded.
“Is he ...” Rubbing a hand across the crick forming in my neck, I lowered myself onto the sofa and took Shelley’s arm to draw her down with me. “Is Colum a wolf, too?”
Her head shook as she balanced on the cushion’s edge.
“Human?” Brow lifted, I angled toward Dad, who frowned, and turned back to Shelley. “And there’s no sign of him either?”
“No. Dave and Lisa ... Col’s parents—they came back last night from their break. That’s why Gabe stayed over—they had the house to themselves, had plans to ... I don’t ... but Dave said they came home to the back door wide open, the coffee table smashed, take out trashed on the carpet ...” She sucked in a deep shuddering breath, wringing her hands together.
“So they rang the police.” My jaw tightened as the scenario formed in my mind. “Figures they would. Why didn’t you call us?”
“I hoped they’d show up, I think. It all seemed so definite when the police knocked on my door and made the report. I was about to call you this morning ... then ... on the news ...” The panic cleared from her eyes a little as her gaze bored into me. “Is it like the others? Tell me the truth, Ethan. Is it the same as the other disappearances you warned me about?”
As much as I wanted to lie and ease the blow, I couldn’t. “Except for the missing human?” I gave a small nod. “It looks that way.”
“The others haven’t been found, have they?” she asked. “They haven’t shown up—”
“Yet,” Dad cut in. “Doesn’t mean they won’t.”
Shelley turned to each of us. “How much do you know about the disappearances?”
“Nowhere near enough,” Dad said.
“You must know something, or you wouldn’t have called me last week to keep a close watch on Gabe.”
Dad’s gaze met mine—Sean’s, too. The worry over how much to tell her seemed to cross all of our minds.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she asked.
We all faced Shelley.
“I get it,” she said with a small nod. “I’m not part of your pack, so why—”
“I was contacted”—Dad leaned forward—“the evening before Ethan called you, by Jack Brosen—he’s the Alpha of a pack who runs here, in Shropshire—to find out if I’d followed the news, and to ask for the favour that if I knew anything, I share it.”
Lines creased Shelley’s brow, but she didn’t say anything.
“His son has gone missing—just like Gabe,” Dad continued. “But he kept it off the radar. The ones on the news are the ones officially reported. We have no idea how many more have been taken. Just as we have no idea where they’re going, or who’s taking them, or why. Jack’s also
worried it’s more than just werewolves that have gone missing.”
Shelley pushed out her fringe of blonde-streaked red. “What do you mean, Nathan?”
“Five of the reported disappearances have been female,” Dad said. “If there were that many female werewolves nearby?” His shoulders lifted with his shrug. “Trust me, I’d have heard about it.”
“So ... so, they are taking humans, too?” Her brows rose higher with each word.
Dad shook his head. “I don’t think they’re human either.”
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Praise for Caged
“Belfield hits a grand slam with her latest Holloway Pack novel.” ~ L.S. Murphy, author of Reaper
“Can any girl resist Ethan?” ~ Julie Reece, author of Crux and The Artisans
“CAGED is more than just a pretty cover—this book tastes as good as it looks!” ~ Carmel, Rabid Reads Blog
“Trust me, you’ll be one of the fiending females who wants to get Caged with Ethan Holloway.” ~ Keri Lake, Sons of Wrath author
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