Wild Keepers
Page 8
Everyone at their table did the same. If the mood had been subdued before, it had disintegrated completely, now. Allie said goodbye to everyone and walked out of the bar into the night.
The street was filled with people. She could hear music wafting out of other bars down the street. She turned up the collar on her coat, walking quickly, dodging pedestrians. There was a taxi ramp further down.
Janelle was right. They shouldn’t be in crowded places, not when this sickness was still unknown. She had always thought that people who wore the white surgical masks when they were walking city streets were overly paranoid, but now, it just seemed like common sense. In these circumstances anyway. Perhaps she should duck into a drugstore and buy one.
Calm down, she told herself. But the fear was invading her blood; her pulse quickened. She could see why people panicked. No one wanted to get sick and die. They needed to protect themselves and their loved ones.
She glanced at people sitting at tables in restaurants as she passed by. Smiling and laughing. Eating their lovely meals and sipping their drinks. Not a care in the world. Not realising that it could all come crashing down in a heartbeat. Just as it had for that poor man in the bar. Just as it had for Frances.
She needed to get home, now.
There were no cabs at the ramp. She walked a bit further along and saw one cutting through the traffic. She hailed it, and it pulled up alongside her. She felt relief seep through her as she climbed into the back, telling the driver her address.
The city lights blurred as the cab zipped through the traffic.
“Busy day?” said the driver, staring at her in the rearview mirror.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. She didn’t really feel like talking.
“Have you heard about what’s happening?” continued the driver, ignoring her reluctance to speak. “An epidemic, the papers are saying! I took two people to the hospital today. They looked like they were about to keel over.” He swerved around a car in front, veering into the left lane. “I said to the wife we need to get out of the city. The city ain’t doing nothing, as usual. I don’t want my family infected by some strange bug.”
Allie sighed. “I’m sure it’s not an epidemic. Don’t panic.”
The man shook his head. “No, it’s bad. I’ve driven these streets for over twenty years, and I get to talk to a lot of people. It’s getting worse. Those scientists and doctors need to get off their asses and find out what it is.”
Allie felt a surge of guilt tear through her. He was right. They needed to find out what was going on.
The traffic had slowed to a standstill. The driver beeped his horn, cursing.
“Roadworks,” he spat. “At night. Can you believe it? I’m going to take another way, through some back streets, to get around it. Are you okay with that?”
Allie nodded. “Whichever way is fine with me, as long as you’re not trying to rip me off, of course.”
He grinned into the rearview mirror. “Never! I’m honest.”
He made a right turn, onto another busy street. She could see people clinging to the corners, in large groups. A strip of bars with neon lights. Her eyes widened as she saw a fight break out in front of one.
“Not a great area, this one,” said the driver. “Full of gangs. I don’t like to pick up from here after a certain time.”
“Fair enough,” Allie replied. She could see people sitting on the pavement, near the gutters. Women in short skirts and low tops slowly walking along, calling out to the cars as they drove by.
It was sad, thought Allie. A side of the city that she didn’t enjoy witnessing. But overriding that was fear again. She didn’t want to be living here. Oh, it was all okay in the bar where she had just been. That had been a hip street, full of ethnic restaurants and colourful pubs. But this…this was different. Seedy. Who would want to live here?
She was suddenly overwhelmed with nostalgia for the wide, pristine streets of her home town. Where she could walk without worrying. Where the worst thing that happened was someone losing their dog or a letterbox being vandalised. Where she could feel safe. Somewhere that there wasn’t a mystery illness spreading through the population.
The driver turned off, heading down a side street. It was considerably darker and industrial. Allie could see huge factories and warehouses, unlit. She wouldn’t want to be walking along this street, either.
The street was empty of people, except one. A figure was walking towards an abandoned warehouse, quickly. Something in the way the person moved made her look again. She recognised that walk.
The cab cruised past the person. Allie stared out of the window.
It was Caleb.
She was sure of it. She recognised the coat, and she could see his black hair underneath a street lamp. He had the collar of his coat turned up, and he was staring at the ground.
What on earth was he doing on this street? A street full of old warehouses, in the dark?
He turned, suddenly, towards the abandoned one. It had planks of wood tacked onto windows and looked like it was about to topple down entirely. Her eyes widened as he approached a rickety door and knocked. Before she could blink, he had disappeared inside.
The cab had reached the end of the street and turned into the next.
She sat back in the seat, stunned. It was Caleb, she was sure of it. But it made no sense at all. He was a university lecturer—a scientist. Why would he be walking the streets of this bad area at night, alone? And go into a seemingly abandoned warehouse?
Before she knew it, the cab had pulled up outside her flat. She paid the driver then let herself into the cold, dark apartment. She flicked on the lights and turned on the heater. The books that she had taken from work were still sitting in an untidy pile where she had hastily thrown them on the coffee table, before going out.
She sank into the sofa, picking one up absentmindedly. She stared at the title on the cover without really seeing it. All that she could see was the figure of Caleb, walking down that dark street, in that seedy part of the city.
She felt a shiver run through her, thinking about him. How he was sometimes so friendly and warm, and at other times…not at all. Distant. Remote. She thought of Janelle’s comment that he was a man of mystery.
Was this a part of that mystery? Did Caleb Stone have secrets? He obviously didn’t live in that area. How could he? He was a man who was an expert in his field and would be paid accordingly. A man who could afford to live in a leafy suburb, or at least in a trendy city neighbourhood. A man who shouldn’t be cruising seedy streets in the dark and knocking on the doors of abandoned warehouses.
What was Caleb Stone hiding? Who was Caleb Stone?
She sighed, opening the book in her hands. She had to put it out of her mind. He was a visiting expert and would be gone once this mystery had been solved. She didn’t need to know anything about him—his life, or what he did, when he wasn’t at work. Why he walked a seedy street in the dark and entered an abandoned warehouse.
She didn’t need to know anything about him at all.
Chapter Seven
Caleb walked into the warehouse, shrugging his coat off and tossing it onto a chair. It was cold in here, but unless he was outside he rarely felt it. Something to do with his internal temperature as a shifter. All wolf shifters ran hot, apparently.
Shay was lounging in a sofa, flicking through a magazine. He could see Evan preparing some two-minute noodles in what passed as their kitchen, opening the door of the microwave and taking out a bowl. Really, the kitchen was just a portable gas stove top and the microwave. A mini fridge stood in a corner. It was hardly a chef’s paradise.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten dinner yet. The scent of Evan’s noodles filled his nose. Maybe he should make himself some, too.
“Where’s Thad?” he asked, staring around. The alpha leader was usually here.
“Out with Zach,” said Shay, not looking up from his magazine. “Scouting a mission, I think.”
It had been a slow walk back here, after dropping the car at the car rental office. He always took it back at the end of a night and picked it up again the next morning. For starters, a car of that calibre would look out of place in this neighbourhood, especially parked outside this warehouse. He didn’t want to draw attention to the place.
And the chances that it would get vandalised, or stolen, were too high. No, it was better that he use it when he was being Caleb Stone, expert scientist, and leave it when he was back to being Caleb, shifter. As much as he would love to drive it always. In another life, he thought, slamming the fridge door shut.
He opened a cupboard, taking out a pack of noodles. There didn’t seem to be anything else, and he couldn’t be bothered going out again.
As he put the noodles in some water in a bowl, he thought of Allie. She had been going out with some of her work colleagues that night. The administration worker, Janelle, had asked him to go along, too.
He had been tempted. Too tempted. The thought of sitting at a bar and having a drink with Allie was enticing. He could almost picture her there, sitting on a stool, sipping her drink. Dressed up for the night, her long blonde hair falling over her face. Emanating that sexiness that so unstitched him every time he gazed at her.
But he couldn’t do it. The phone call had rattled him, and besides, he needed to keep his distance. So, he had said no and taken off. He had looked back and seen Allie staring after him. Her eyes—were they blue, or were they green? He could never quite decide—were large and solemn. Had he offended her, rushing off so quickly and saying that he couldn’t make it?
The microwave pinged, and he took the hot bowl full of noodles out, steam rising into his face. He sat down on a chair, slurping them. No, he couldn’t afford to wonder what was going through Allie’s mind. He knew that she was attracted to him—he could read it in her face and her body language. Her smell. Pheromones. It wasn’t just when he was about to turn into the wolf that his senses were sharpened. And he was as attracted to her; if she had his senses, she would know it in an instant. Maybe it was just as well that she didn’t.
He confused her, he could tell. Sometimes, his overwhelming attraction to her couldn’t be hidden. But then, he would remember and start to close down. Avoid eye contact. Speak in short sentences. He had to remind himself that he was doing it for his own good. He couldn’t afford to get involved with a woman. Not in a serious way, at any rate.
And he knew, instinctively, that there would be no other way to get involved with Allie Holloway but seriously. She wasn’t the type of woman that you could walk away from easily once the decision had been made. If he gave his body, and his heart, it would be for the long haul.
So, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
There was a short rap at the door. Shay got up, tossing the magazine aside. Caleb glanced down at it. Motorcycle Monthly. He should have known. Shay was obsessed with motorcycles; he always had one that he was working on in the undercover area, where it couldn’t be seen. Caleb had learned to live with falling over motorcycle parts.
It hadn’t been easy, learning to live with four complete strangers who had nothing in common but the fact that they all turned into wolves once a month. It had been a learning curve. He got along fairly well with everyone, but he and Shay butted heads quite a bit. He thought a lot of it had to do with where they were positioned in the pack. They were both vying for a higher position and were very competitive with each other.
Thad walked in, trailed by Zach. Caleb hadn’t seen the lowest in their pack for a while; Zach had been on a mission in an outer suburb. Zach was the youngest in the pack, as well as the lowest ranked. He had only been with them for about six months. A country recruit, just as he had been once upon a time.
He liked Zach. He was young, but he had his head screwed on his shoulders tightly. He had the potential to go far in the pack. Maybe make it to alpha one day. If he could keep himself from the ladies, that is. Zach was a bit of a ladies’ man, always boasting about his conquests. That was okay; they came and went, and there was never anyone special.
But it was also dangerous for a member of the Wild Keepers. Zach might fall for one of these women and decide to leave the pack and mate permanently. If that happened, all his hard work to make it to alpha would be for nothing. A decision he might live to regret, being so young, when his hormones overrode everything else.
The others in the pack dated, but sporadically. It wasn’t as if they had taken a vow of celibacy to join the Wild Keepers, but they all knew the consequences if they met a woman they wanted to mate with. End of service. And none of them wanted that. Their work was too important. And so were the bonds of their brotherhood, being with others like themselves.
It was a lonely old world out there without a pack. Living with your secret; trying to hide it from the world. Together, they were stronger. They knew what each other was going through, and how hard it was. Even though they didn’t always get along, and were often competitive with each other, they supported each other as well.
Caleb thought of Uncle Rich, whose position he had taken in the pack. Uncle Rich had been smart and strategic. He had served the Wild Keepers for a long, long time by keeping as far away from women as possible. And he had chosen the time when he had enough, and found his mate. He had chosen the life he wanted.
But it hadn’t worked out for him. Caleb thought back to his phone call that afternoon. It had been Uncle Rich. He had ended his relationship with his wife and was very upset. Upset about losing the woman he loved, of course, but also regretful that he could never come back to the Wild Keepers. He had lost the ability to shift once he had mated.
“Be very careful, Caleb,” his uncle had said on the phone, his voice breaking. “If you ever find a woman that you think is your mate, make sure it’s worth it. That it’s going to last. You will be sacrificing everything for her. And if it doesn’t work out…well, you can never go back. Your old life is gone.”
Caleb had taken his words very seriously. And really, they couldn’t have come at a better time. Uncle Rich had strengthened his resolve to leave Allie alone. To not flirt with the possibility of losing his life with the pack. What if it didn’t work out, and he was left unable to return to his life’s calling?
Then he would have nothing. No, it didn’t bear thinking about.
“How is the mission going?” Thad asked now, breaking his reverie.
“Slow,” replied Caleb, tearing his mind away from Allie. “We haven’t been able to isolate what is causing the outbreak, yet. With my help, I’m sure we’ll get there.”
He wasn’t that confident, but it wouldn’t be smart to tell Thad that. In reality, it was just Allie and himself. With the death of Frances, and the other guy ill, they were understaffed, and under the pump. And Dr. Morgan, the director, wasn’t making things easier by stubbornly refusing to entertain the possibility of other causes, and insisting they keep retesting for pathogens.
“You will have to work harder,” said Thad, frowning. “This has broken all over the city. The papers are full of it, whipping people up into a panic. More people are coming down with it.”
“I’m trying,” said Caleb, sharply. “It’s not as simple as putting one and one together to make two. These things are complex and often take time.”
Thad walked over to the water cooler, pouring himself a drink.
“Caleb, it’s a two-pronged mission,” he said, drinking the water and tossing the paper cup into the bin. “Yes, if you can find what is causing it and the cure in the conventional way, great. But don’t forget that you are also looking for possible Vilgath sabotage. Tell me about the people in the team, working on it.”
Cale
b sighed deeply. “The section leader came down with the illness and just died,” he said, frowning. “Frances, was her name. The other researcher, David, has fallen ill, too. I guess that we can rule them both out.” He paused. “Then there’s Allie. She’s new, a junior research assistant. It’s fallen on her shoulders to find this, with the others gone. And Dr. Morgan, the director.”
Thad stared at him. “What are your impressions of them? Could either of them be Vilgath or working for them?”
Caleb contemplated. Could they? His mind automatically shut down to the possibility of Allie, of course. He prided himself that he was a good judge of character, and taking away his violent attraction to her, he knew that she was a good person. She wasn’t a demon in disguise. He was sure of it.
But what about Dr. Timothy Morgan? He pictured the befuddled doctor in his mind. He appeared absentminded and benign; the type of person dedicated to his career, and who wouldn’t hurt a fly. But Dr. Morgan was also single-minded and razor sharp. The appearance of the doddering expert was just that—an appearance.
“There’s the director,” he said slowly. “Dr. Morgan. He’s been there for years. Excellent at his job. Well-liked and respected in the facility.” He paused, frowning. “I struggle to think of a motivation he would have to sabotage his own position. But then…” he trailed off, thinking of the meeting that day.
“Then what?” Thad gazed at him, waiting.
“I was thinking of a meeting today,” said Caleb slowly. “He was very insistent that we keep concentrating on looking for a virus or bacteria. I pressed to expand the search, to other things, but he wouldn’t consider it—even though all the evidence points to it not being caused by virus or bacteria.”
Thad nodded. “Would you assume that a man in his position would be open to all possibilities?”
“Yes.” Caleb sat up straighter. “He should be. It’s within the public’s best interest, after all. He doesn’t get a medal for finding a virus…and as a scientist, he knows that bias towards a foregone conclusion is wrong. Scientists are supposed to pursue all logical conclusions based on fact and evidence, not theory.”