Midnight Wolves

Chapter Thirty Nine: Trouble

Young-Callie was dumped on the ground, the cold from the floor seeping into her dress.

The man winced and gripped his back. "Your mother put up more of a fight than I thought. I should have killed that mutt sooner," he spat.

Callie frowned up at him. "That's not a nice word."

He leaned down, his eyes glaring into Callie's, filled with disgust. "She was mutt and never deserved him. And now, you'll be just like her. You're lucky I can't bring myself to kill you."

Callie's wolf rose up in anger and lashed out, sinking her teeth into the man's leg.

He roared and stumbled backwards, kicking her off. "You little bitch!" he shouted. Callie smiled, blood gushing down her chin. She'd bitten him deep, deep enough to scar, she hoped.

"I hate you! My dad hates you too," Callie screamed.

His snarl was violence incarnate as he turned and kicked young-Callie in the head.

*

Callie woke on the cold wooden floor of the house. Dust laid around her, on her, as it settled in the air. Her limbs were heavy as she slowly pushed herself into a seating position and looked around.

Memories swirled around her, merging the future and past. She'd just remembered her mother's murder. No matter how hard she tried, she could not picture the man's face, but she could taste the coppery blood in her mouth, could feel her younger self's anger.

A part of her soared at remembering her first claiming with Vik but at the moment it was shrouded in the terror that followed. His words kept coming back to her... 'I should have killed that mutt sooner.'

Why was that so familiar?

She picked herself up off the ground and stumbled out into the sunlight. It was beginning to darken as evening set in. She knew that Vik was still waiting for her. She should go to him, wanted to but... 'mutt'.

Where had she heard that?

She started walking in the direction of her house when it hit her.

Mutt.

'They were, to a degree. But Beverley was a...God, what did he call her? A mutt – that was it. Not of pack origin, you know?' That's what her uncle had said. Had said about Henderson.

"No," she whispered in shock. It couldn't be. Surely not him, he'd been so warm to her, so welcoming.

So quick to confirm her suspicions about her uncle.

Callie turned from the direction of Vik and headed off in search of Henderson – it was time to find the truth.

She knocked on his door, trying to be as patient as possible.

He answered, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Callie, what are you doing here?"

She gave him a tight smile. "Mind if I come in? I have a few more questions about my uncle."

Henderson frowned softly but agreed and opened the door wider, letting her walk inside. She felt like she was entering the lion's den. Maybe she should have told Vik where she was going.

"What else did you want to ask?" he asked carefully as they each took a seat in the living room. Her eyes searched the room again This time more intent than before. She wasn't sure what she was looking for.

"My uncle, he and Beverley didn't get on, right?"

He nodded sadly. "That's right."

She nodded in time with him. "When I was with him, he called her a mutt, does that sound familiar to you?" She knew she could have handled it better, could have led him towards incriminating himself. Instead, she'd gone in bluntly – and had overplayed her hand.

He eyed her closely at the use of the word. "I'm not sure," he lied, "maybe. Tell me Callie, have you been having memories of that night?"

Callie shivered at the tinge in his eye. He noted the movement. Her blood went cold as his face changed and he lunged for her.

*

KENNEDY

"Callie, that you?" Vik called from upstairs.

"Nope, it's me," Kennedy answered, taking a seat at the kitchen table and sighing loudly. She'd had a long day. Felicity had been stapled to her side for most of it. The she-wolf wouldn't leave her alone. She'd even roped Kennedy into working in her store for a little while.

Vik strolled down the stairs looking slightly dejected. Kennedy smiled, he was missing his mate. It was sometimes easy to forget why she was here - what she would soon have to do.

"Have you seen her?" he asked as he sat on the chair in front of her.

Kennedy stretched and shook her head. "Sorry," she said, scratching the back of her shoulder.

Vik sighed and put his head in his hands. He looked tired. Kennedy was tired too. They'd kept her awake most of the night. "I'm going to stay in one of the guest houses tonight," she informed him. "Sofa's uncomfortable," she lied.

Vik nodded, reading her too easily. He was grateful, excited about seeing Callie. It was sweet really, how much he loved her. He was worried too and whether it was his worry that she was picking up on, or her own, Kennedy could admit that she was becoming concerned.

No one had seen Callie in hours. She'd asked on the way over when she'd sensed Vik's loneliness.

"Can't you sense her via the pack link?" She asked to his unspoken concern.

Vik shrugged, "the packlink feels weird between us. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't."

"Give it a try," Kennedy suggested, her fingers tapping against the table top impatiently.

He glowered at her, as was his way, but closed his eyes and went unnaturally still.

His face darkened, twisted and when his eyes sprang open his wolf was already raging in them.

"Something's wrong. Callie's in trouble."