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Caleb

Page 10

by Willow Hazel


  “Then I have a reason to come back.” He opened the door and stepped through.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sarah was sitting on Caleb’s couch, her legs crossed, when the knock came from the door. Her gaze went to the gun on the table in front of her. She snatched it up and stood.

  Her heart pounding, she tried to think the situation over. Caleb wouldn’t knock on his own door, and if he’d sent someone from the pack, he would have called ahead, especially since he knew she’d be armed and jittery.

  That suggested someone who wasn’t in the pack, which was a big problem. After all, to get to the apartment, they’d have had to walk through the bar, which was already closed and locked up.

  Another knock came from the door, this time louder.

  Sarah took a deep breath and glanced again at the gun in her hand before stepping toward the door. She peered through the peephole.

  On the other side, under the dim stairwell lights, stood a huge suited man with brown hair and sunglasses. The rest of his look made her uneasy, but the sunglasses make her stomach lurched. What kind of weirdo wore sunglasses indoors at night? She certainly didn’t recognize him.

  “Go away,” Sarah yelled. “Or I’ll call the cops. You should also know I have a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  She backed away from the door and raised the gun. She rehearsed the plan in her mind. Empty the gun into the intruder, and then flee to her car, just like Caleb told her. By the time the guy had regenerated, she’d be in a car speeding away.

  Just as Sarah began to mentally rehearse the plan for a second time, the door flew open, a loud bang echoing in the stairwell. A wood chip from the bashed door sliced her cheek, and she gasped.

  The suited man lowered the leg he’d used to kick the door open and straightened his tie. “Sorry about that, but I’m in a bad mood, and I have some other stops tonight, so I figured I’d move this right along.”

  Sarah raised the gun and wrapped both hands around the grip. “You’re going to turn around and leave right now, or I’m going to kill you. I don’t want to, but I will if I have to. Even if this doesn’t kill you, it’s going to hurt like hell, and I’ll be long gone by the time you get back up.”

  The suited man chuckled. “Then go ahead.” He spread his arms out to his sides. “I’ll even make it easy and let you know I’m seriously thinking about killing you depending on what you say in the next few minutes.”

  Sarah’s pulse thundered in her ears, and her stomach lurched. “You don’t look like True Son trash, so why are you doing their work for them?”

  “True Son?” His brow furrowed. “Oh? You don’t think I look like a True Son. I suppose I don’t.”

  She didn’t quite understand what he meant. Was he just playing games with her? Maybe she needed to change strategies.

  “You’d kill a Blooded?” Sarah said. “Every wolf in this area will tear you apart once they’ve found out what you’ve done.”

  “Oh, I might kill a Blooded, if necessary. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do if necessary.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Then I’m sorry.” She lowered the gun and fired at his leg.

  He arched a brow and shrugged. Had she missed?

  She looked down. No. There was a hole in his pants, but no blood, and he’d not so much as flinched. Not only that, but a smashed-up bullet lay on the floor next to his shoe, like it’d hit something hard and strong as metal.

  Sarah snapped the gun back up, trembling. “There’s a silver bullet mixed in. Don’t make me use it. I don’t want to have to kill you.”

  “Come on, then, finish me off, Sarah,” he said. “That’s your name, right, Little Miss Sarah Lindsey the Blooded?” He shook his head. “Caleb shouldn’t have left you here alone. That was a stupid plan.”

  Sarah pulled the trigger again. And then again. And then again. She kept firing until the gun clicked, and even then, she pulled several times in the desperate hope a bullet would magically appear.

  Though she’d perforated his suit jacket, shirt, and tie, there wasn’t even a hint of blood. Several of the bullets lay on the ground, again compacted, as if they’d hit a wall.

  Sarah gulped down some air. She wasn’t missing. The guy was just bulletproof. Was he wearing a bulletproof vest?

  She stared at him. No, not a vest. She could see his skin through a few of the holes. His skin itself was deflecting the bullets. Caleb hadn’t told her that was even possible.

  The man clucked his tongue. “It’s a good thing there’s not anyone who lives nearby. I’d hate to have to deal with suspicious police investigating all that gunfire.”

  Sarah fell to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes. It didn’t make sense. It should have at least slowed him down. Now she was going to die.

  “I just have one question for you, Ms. Lindsey.” The suited man advanced on her until he stood right over her. “Where is Caleb Drake?”

  “Doesn’t matter if you kill me,” Sarah said. “You want to know where he is? He’s on his way to finish off your pack. They know where your hideout is, and he’s going to end this, once for all. You lose, True Son.”

  The suited man burst into laughter. When he finally calmed down, he said, “Oh, I’m no rabid dog. I’d be more insulted, but we haven’t been properly introduced, and I’ve been admittedly misleading about the whole thing.” He pulled off his glasses revealing cold, reptilian eyes.

  “You’re the King of Maricopa County,” Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The dragon laughed even harder. “Oh, if only.” He smiled. “No, I’m Greg Thomas, and I serve the King of Maricopa County.”

  Sarah took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I don’t understand why a weredragon is helping out the True Sons.”

  “Who said I was helping out the True Sons? You’ve just made a number of assumptions. About the last thing I would do is help some pack of rabid dog hooligans in some interpack dispute.”

  She blinked and stood. “Then why are you here?”

  “For you.” Greg pointed at her. “More specifically, to figure out what your plans are and act accordingly.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Greg crossed his arms. “Neither Mr. Drake nor Mr. Silvestri made me aware of you, and I only found out about your existence and your knowledge of our kind through a second-hand information source. The reason for that was unclear to me until you said you were a Blooded. Still, from what little I have gathered, you’re new to this world. And that raised questions and complications.”

  Sarah nodded. “I didn’t know about all the shifters until recently, yes.”

  “Those wolves shouldn’t have hid you from me.” Greg sighed. He raised a hand. “And don’t worry, it’s not as if I’d start a war with wolves by unnecessarily killing one of their Blooded, but that doesn’t change my duty. I need to know what your plans are. There are after all, many different ways we can handle this without violence.”

  “I don’t understand what plans you’re talking about. Plans for what, exactly?”

  Greg rolled his eyes, which was both unsettling and slightly comical given their inhuman appearance. “I want to know your plans for your future now that you are aware of our world.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m going back to graduate school. Did you know about that?”

  “Please, give me some credit. I can do a basic background check.”

  Sarah sighed. “I just know I want to spend more time with Caleb and the pack.”

  Greg nodded slowly. “And you don’t want to tell the world? Reveal this ancient secret? End up on television?”

  She laughed. “And what would I tell them? That shapeshifters exist? Most wouldn’t believe me, and that’s if I could even get the message out without some… well, dragon stopping me. And I don’t want to anyway.”

  The dragon smirked. “So you have no intention of trying to spread this information?”

  “No. Why would I? In the end, it’d caus
e trouble, probably a war. A lot of innocent people would get hurt, and if my time with Caleb has taught me anything, it’s that shifters are just like normal people, some are good and some are bad. So what’s the point of all that bloodshed, then? Fifteen minutes of fame?”

  Greg nodded to himself as if satisfied. “True enough. Then, I suppose this visit will end more pleasantly than I anticipated.”

  “So you’re not going to kill me?”

  “No.”

  “And you believe me?”

  “Yes. Let’s just say, I’m good at telling if people are lying to me.”

  “And you’re not going to lock me up?”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Okay, then.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Her heart was still thundering like she was running a marathon, but at least she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out.

  “This has been interesting, but I think I’m done here.”

  “Wait.” Sarah found the courage to glare at him. “Why isn’t the King doing something about the True Sons?”

  “Why should he? They may be rowdy, but they haven’t exposed our kind yet.”

  “You think shooting my car up in broad daylight on an East Phoenix street wouldn’t normally draw unnecessary attention? If Caleb hadn’t shown up, they would have probably left all sorts of evidence.”

  Greg’s smile disappeared. “Now that I wasn’t aware of.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is the problem. You give anyone a small little bit of freedom, and they abuse it. I’ll make the King aware of this issue, but from what you’ve mentioned to me already, it shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “The best thing to do with rabid dogs is let other rabid dogs handle them, and that is the King’s policy. It seems Mr. Drake is more resourceful than I anticipated, and I suspect that soon the True Sons will all either be dead soon or leaving Maricopa County. In either event, it will no longer be the business of my King.” Greg slipped his sunglasses back on. “And if the issue hasn’t been resolved, then dragons will handle it. Until then, good night, Ms. Lindsey.”

  Greg had taken two steps when Sarah called out to him. “What about the door?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “What about it?”

  “Aren’t you going to pay for it? The lock is smashed, piece of it came off, even.” Her cheek still stung.

  The dragon sighed. “Don’t press your luck, little Blooded. You put over a dozen holes in a five-hundred-dollar suit. Let’s just call it even.” He stepped into the hallway and then disappeared down the stairs.

  Sarah grabbed the gun and reloaded it with a fresh magazine. She could only pray that no other visitors showed up and that Caleb would return home safely.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Caleb and the eleven pack mates he’d brought with him all parked several blocks away. It was too bad that Thomas was still recovering from his silver injuries, given that one of his best talents was knocking heads.

  Still, if all went well, they wouldn’t need an all-out assault. That depended on a number of things, though, including getting the drop on the True Sons.

  The rest of the pack surrounded him in a half-circle, and he gave them all a nod in turn, looking for anyone who looked uneasy. Even Malcolm looked eager for battle.

  “You all know what to do,” Caleb said. “Follow the plan that I sent in the text. If the True Sons mess the plan up, then follow your instincts. But no matter what happens, Jake Silvestri is mine.” With that he shifted. The other eleven shifted.

  Caleb let out a long, low growl. He wanted to raise his head and howl, but that would let their enemy know they were on the way.

  No. Today they would surprise the True Sons and make them ever regret setting foot in Devil’s Den. He’d prove to Greg and the King that his pack was to be respected.

  The wolves padded through the darkened streets, into an alley, and into the warehouse area. Caleb sniffed the air every once in a while, seeking scents, human, wolf, or otherwise. The faint traces of the True Sons hung in the air.

  Caleb caught the much stronger stench of BO and alcohol. He let out a low growl and stopped. The rest of the pack halted.

  A disheveled vagrant holding a paper bag turned the corner. His eyes widened at the sight of the twelve huge wolves.

  Caleb tilted his head, staring into the man’s eyes, reaching into the beast within him and pushing it toward the man with a bit of concentration.

  The man stared back. A paper bag containing a wine bottle slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a clink.

  The alpha let out a low growl, concentrating harder. A second later, the vagrant collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Animal magnetism. The poor sucker would remember nothing once he woke up, but at least he wasn’t dead.

  The pack continued padding forward, still sticking to the shadows.

  A low growl from Remy caught Caleb’s attention. The other wolf had spotted the bikes of the True Sons. Remy crept forward and padded toward the warehouse, waiting for a second before padding back.

  The scout shifted back into his red-headed human form and whispered, “They are all still there. I counted all thirteen on the first floor.” He shifted back into his wolf form

  Caleb snort growled. Too cocky. The damn True Sons thought they still held the upper-hand. Still thought they were untouchable because they were hiding like roaches instead of standing tall like real wolves.

  He nodded his head once. All the other wolves nodded and burst into a sprint, quickly surrounding the building. Caleb leapt directly toward a window. The crash of the many wolves smashing through windows was deafening.

  His pack surrounded the True Sons. The bikers all shifted. Snapping and growling filled the room.

  Everything was going according to plan. He didn’t want to just surprise them and kill them all. He had a point to make, and that required survivors.

  Caleb shifted back into human form. “The only reason we’re not fighting yet is because I don’t think all of you True Sons are pussies. So I give you some respect.” He pointed at Jake, remembering his wolf form from their first encounter. “He’s the pussy. When he first showed up at Devil’s Den, I challenged him, and he sent someone else to fight for him, and then he ran.” He growled. “So I’m going to make this easy. I think we should resolve things alpha to alpha. If I die, my pack gets the fuck out of this area, and you get to tell everyone in Arizona how badass the True Sons are. If Jake dies, then you all get on those bikes and leave.”

  Jake shifted back into human form. “This is bullshit. What, are you too pussy to fight me pack to pack?”

  “Hey, I took on two of your guys by myself already. I just don’t think your pack should have to suffer because you’re a weak coward.”

  “We’ll see who the coward is when we gut you.”

  Several of the True Sons shifted back into human form. The bald bastard who’d threatened Sarah snorted. “Drakeyboy is right. If he’s wolf enough to challenge Jake, then Jake should be wolf enough to challenge him.”

  The rest of the True Sons shifted and started chanting, “Challenge! Challenge! Challenge!”

  “All right already,” Jake shouted. “I’m going to be kicking some asses once I’m done kicking Caleb Drake’s ass.” He glared at Caleb. “But if I win, I’m also taking the sweet pussy of that Blooded.”

  Caleb snorted. “I hope that’s the last thing you’re thinking when you die.”

  His pack spread out on one side, and the True Sons shifted and spread out on the other side.

  “I’m going to really enjoy this, Jake,” Caleb said.

  “I hope you enjoy hell. You’re going there soon,” Jake snarled. “And soon your bitch will be moaning my name.” He shifted.

  Caleb shifted and immediately jumped to the side. The two wolves collided, biting, scratching. Blood stained their fur.

  They jumped away from each other and snarled. Pain radiated from several parts of
Caleb’s body, but he didn’t care. He could already feel the wounds healing, and Jake wasn’t in much better shape.

  Both wolves charged each other again, but this time Jake slid under the leaping Caleb and raked his underside with his claws. His stomach on fire, Caleb landed on the ground, growling.

  The two went at each other again, both getting a few bites on the legs and heads in but nothing fatal.

  Caleb backed up, snapping and growling at Jake. The other wolf returned the favor.

  Ignoring the pain and not waiting for the wounds to heal, Caleb bolted for his side. Jake charged, but then Caleb leapt to the other side. He spun around just in time to leap on Jake’s back and brought his jaw down on the other wolf’s neck.

  Jake tried to fling him off, but Caleb tightened his grip. With a crunch of his neck, Jake collapsed to the ground, shifting back into human form, unconscious, his head angled far to the side.

  He’d live and regenerate if Caleb walked away, but then this wouldn’t be over. The True Sons would think Caleb was weak, and they’d keep coming again and again, until one of his pack died.

  No. Jake accepted the challenge, knowing the stakes. Caleb would expect no mercy if their roles were reversed.

  He flipped Jake over and raised his head, letting out a triumphant howl.

  All the other wolves, his pack and the True Sons alike, joined in the howl.

  Now he just had to finish it. Claws and fangs did their work, and soon Jake’s heart was removed.

  Caleb shifted back, wiping some of the blood off his face. “Jake Silvestri is dead. Who’s his beta?”

  A middle-aged man with fading blond hair stepped forward and bowed his head in reverence. “You’re not to be fucked with Caleb Drake. I’ll give you that.”

  Caleb resisted the urge to shift and attack the man. Even though he wanted to, he wouldn’t risk more of his pack getting hurt just for revenge. The best way to protect his pack was to make sure that the True Sons left.

  “Get the hell out of my city before I change my mind. I’ll take care of Jake’s body and his bike.”

 

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