by Chant, Zoe
Callan hesitated. Ella might not want to, but it was his mission to make sure she was brought back safe and sound.
Well, I can’t exactly throw her over my shoulder and carry her back, he thought. Somehow, I’ll have to convince her.
He could already see that that was not going to be easy.
“Ella, whatever it is, you can tell me,” he said. “I came out here to protect you.”
Callan saw her momentary hesitation, before her eyes narrowed.
“All right, that’s fine – I appreciate it. But you can’t force me to do anything, can you? I haven’t committed any crime. I haven’t done anything.”
Technically, Callan knew that he could take her into protective custody whether she wanted to go or not. But he’d rather not use that option, since it was clear enough as it was that she was mistrustful of him – and perhaps all authority, given the way she hadn’t gone to the police about her house break-in.
“No, I can’t,” Callan said. “But I could help you, if you let me. To do that, though, I need to take you back to Canberra.”
“Then you can’t help me,” Ella said flatly. “Sorry, but no.”
Callan could see by the way she tensed her shoulders that she was about to turn away from him.
And it might have been a pretty dramatic exit, too, if only she hadn’t slipped over in the river of milk that had wended its way beneath her feet.
It was only a small slip, but Callan reacted before he could think, shooting out a hand to steady her before she could topple over. His hand closed around her upper arm, just below where the sleeve of her t-shirt ended, and –
“Ow! What the –?”
Ella jumped back, glaring at him, rubbing the skin of her arm.
Callan, on the other hand, stood frozen. Within him, his diprotodon had suddenly risen up, raising its head, eyes bright, massive front paws lifted off the ground. It opened its mouth, letting out a low, feral growl.
Mine!
Callan had felt the spark of electricity between them – and obviously Ella had too. If it hadn’t been for his diprotodon’s reaction, it might have been tempting to simply write it off as a shock of static. That was how touching your mate for the first time had always been described to him, by those who’d experienced it – Like a really strong spark of static. You’ll know it when you feel it.
And geeze, they weren’t joking, Callan thought, staring at Ella, wide-eyed.
His diprotodon was practically going on a rampage inside his chest, roaring and scrabbling, insisting that this woman was theirs.
She’s ours. Our mate!
Callan fought it down with some difficulty.
Calm down, all right? For fuck’s sake, show a bit of decorum! We’re in a shop!
And besides which, there was no reason to believe Ella knew what shifters were. If she’d had contact with her father and his research, she might have done. But at this stage, Callan didn’t think she did.
“So – does that mean I can go?” Ella asked, her voice snapping him back to reality. She was eyeing him warily, still edging toward the service station doors.
He opened his mouth, forced back the words his diprotodon was trying to make him say (which went something along the lines of You, you’re our mate, you’re ours!) and instead tried to come up with something that sounded halfway rational.
“Ella, I can’t just –”
He stopped. He tried to get out the rest of the sentence, but something was stopping him.
What the hell?
She is our mate, his diprotodon insisted. She is in need of our help. We must assist her, no matter what.
Callan frowned. You don’t get to decide that, he told it. We have a mission – find Ella Woodson. We found her, so now we’re taking her back to Canberra. I know she’s our mate, but we can explain that to her more easily once we’re back.
The diprotodon lowered its head, growling. It really didn’t like that idea.
No. She has something to do that’s important to her. As her mate, we must help her.
Callan felt it then: the tug of something more powerful than his rational mind. A deep-rooted instinct that he knew he couldn’t resist. The mated bond that had been sparked between them was compelling him to help her, in a way that completely contradicted his responsibility to the Agency – and his mission.
Callan felt stuck. He knew he’d been chosen for this mission because he was calm, responsible, and rational. He didn’t act impulsively. He never had – not once in his life. He had always set a goal, and then worked his way toward it, slowly and steadily.
But now…
Now, for the first time in his life, he realized that that just wasn’t going to cut it.
His emotions – his instinctive need to help his mate – were going to win out over his rational thinking.
Whatever it was that his mate needed him to do, his diprotodon was absolutely not going to let him talk it out of doing it. All the years he’d spent learning how to wrestle its animal instincts into submission may as well have been spent training to ride a unicycle to the moon, for all the good it was doing him now.
Ah, shit.
Robb was going to be mad as a cut snake when he found out about this.
Callan shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order.
And I need to stop just standing here staring at her like a creep. Geeze.
“Ella,” he said again, hoping she couldn’t hear the low growl in his voice. He took a deep breath. “Fine. If helping you means coming with you to wherever you’re going, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Ella stared at him, blinking. “What?”
“I mean it,” Callan said, as the diprotodon growled its approval of his words. “If you won’t come back with me, then whatever it is you need to do must be important. I can’t force you to come back, and I’m not letting you head out into the wilderness – or wherever you’re going – alone.”
Callan realized he sounded a little grudging, even as his diprotodon was feeling extremely smug and happy.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Ella said, after a long pause. “I don’t – I don’t want your help, if it means I’ll have to owe you, or something. I’m not interested in some quid pro quo thing.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Callan said. “I just meant that if this is what you need to do, then at least let me help you. It doesn’t come with any conditions.”
“And what if I say no?” Ella asked. “Are you just going to let me walk out of here?”
“If that’s what you decide to do, then yes,” Callan said, even as everything in him screamed the opposite.
No! his diprotodon roared, shaking its head. Let our mate walk alone into danger? Never!
Callan struggled to push its fury at the idea down. He knew he couldn’t let her do that, but he wasn’t about to start stalking her either. He’d have to find a way to convince her.
Ella frowned. “Well… my car’s broken down. I came in here to ask to use the phone to see if I could get someone to come look at it, since my mobile’s out of battery and there’s been nowhere else to pull over. But I don’t have the cash for an emergency call-out, and otherwise it’s a three-day wait.” She swallowed, licking her lips. “So I’m stranded here anyway.”
“I have a motorbike.” Callan pulled the keys out of his pocket, holding them up. “If you want it, it’s yours. But it’d be better if you knew how to ride it.”
“I… do not know how to ride a motorbike,” Ella said slowly. “At all.”
“Well, better not try, or I’d have to arrest you,” Callan said – he meant the words as a joke, but as soon as they were out of his mouth he wanted to slap himself upside the head.
What kind of dumbarse thing was that to say?! She just started talking to you finally!
But to his surprise, he saw the very – very – faint beginnings of a smile tugging at Ella’s lips.
“I probably wouldn’t get ten meters down the road anyway,” she
said. “So I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to decline. I’ll… figure something out, I guess. If I have to, I can sleep in my car.”
Callan shook his head. The thought of Ella alone, sleeping huddled up in her car was more than he could bear – and certainly more than his diprotodon was willing to put up with.
“Or I could take you.”
Ella’s eyes flashed up to his. They were so dark they looked depthless, and Callan found himself breathless as he stared into them. A tightness spread through his chest.
Say yes.
If she didn’t let him protect her, he honestly thought his diprotodon might force him to shift just so it could go on a rampage, and he really didn’t want to cause any more damage to the servo than they already had.
“You could do that,” she said slowly, as if she was at least contemplating the idea. Then she frowned. “Are you sure you’re a cop? Why’re you being so helpful?”
Because you are our mate, his diprotodon immediately said. We would go to the ends of the earth for you, and beyond. There is nothing we wouldn’t do for you.
Well, I can’t tell her that, Callan told it. Not right now, anyway.
“Because I know you need it,” Callan settled on instead. “I might be in law enforcement, but I got into it because I wanted to help people. I’m not much good if I’m not doing that. And besides which – are you going to give up on going, even if I tell you not to?”
Ella shook her head, eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Well. There you go. If you won’t be dissuaded, then I’ll need to come with you to protect you.”
“What – like a bodyguard?” Ella was staring at him now, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
“If you like. If you’re set on doing this, you will need protection. And it’s part of my job to provide it.”
That, at least, was the whole truth – there was no conflict between what his shifter instincts were dictating and what he knew his mission was.
Well, Callan thought, as he waited for Ella’s answer, let’s hope Robb sees it that way too.
Chapter 4
I must be insane, Ella thought.
That was the only explanation she could think of as she heard herself say, “Fine, then. If you insist, then that’s what we’ll do.”
He wasn’t insisting, though, Ella thought, as she watched the smile break out across his face – the face she’d already noticed was way too handsome to belong to a man who was talking to her, offering to protect her from a danger she didn’t even understand herself.
He offered to just let me take the bike... I mean, I can’t make it go anywhere without flying off and destroying both it and myself, but he didn’t know that when he offered it.
She hoped she wasn’t just having her brains addled by the fact that this guy was hot as hell.
Well… hot as hell was kind of an understatement, really. Ella had never seen anyone whose looks had hit her in the gut quite like this guy’s had. Brown skin, dark brown hair cut close to his head, stubble on his ridiculously square jaw. He had to be six foot seven, and he was, not to put too fine a point on it, built like a brick shithouse. Ella didn’t think she’d seen shoulders that broad anywhere outside of her wildest dreams.
But even though all of that was good, of course, it wasn’t what had made her agree to go with him.
It had been his eyes.
Well, and his smile.
And the way his smile had made his eyes shine.
They were dark brown, but it wasn’t the color that had made her heart stutter – it was, somehow, what she could see in them.
Ella wasn’t the trusting type. Nothing in her life had ever made her quick to make friends, or to feel like people were on her side. But there was something about what she saw in this man’s eyes – the gentleness, the honesty – that overrode what she’d thought was common sense when it came to dealing with people. Which had always been: Don’t trust them.
“You’re sure?” The man’s voice was deep and rich. Ella couldn’t stop herself from shivering, or her eyes from drifting down to his lips as he spoke.
She nodded before she could give herself time for second thoughts. It wasn’t like she had a lot of other choices, anyway. Not if she wanted to keep heading to the co-ordinates the man on the phone had given her.
She hadn’t been lying when she said she’d be fine to sleep in her car. She’d slept in much worse places – it wasn’t like she could book a hotel room as a teenaged runaway – but it wasn’t exactly her first choice, and just at this moment, time was of the essence.
I don’t want to be here when whoever was following me catches up to me again.
Ella shivered.
“And… you really are in the police?” she asked. Not that that made him any more trustworthy in her eyes, but he had said he’d come here to look for her after they’d found her house trashed.
He glanced at her. “It’s… a little more complicated than that. But I swear to you, your safety is why I’m here. And if that means coming with you to wherever you’re going, then that’s what it means.”
Yeah. Insane, Ella thought again. But the words that came out of her mouth were, “All right, then – so what’s your name?”
“Callan,” he said, holding out a hand to her. “Callan McKenna.”
Ella blinked, looking down at his massive hand for a moment before she reached out and took it.
Warm. He’s really warm.
His hand fully enveloped hers – his skin was work-roughened, but his palm was warm, and her skin tingled lightly at the contact.
Unbidden, the moment she’d slipped on the milk and he’d reached out to steady her rose in her mind, and she remembered the weird static shock that had jumped between them. The prickles on her skin now were like a smaller version of that. It wasn’t unpleasant, it was just… strange. The tingling feeling seemed to run up her arm and into her chest, where it settled warmly around her heart.
Maybe I’m having a stroke, she thought vaguely, as she stared up into Callan’s dark brown eyes, ringed by thick lashes. That would certainly account for the faulty decision-making she’d been doing over the last five minutes.
She suddenly realized she’d been standing there, holding his hand and staring at him for at least ten seconds, and, with an embarrassed cough, she pulled her hand away.
“I – well, okay. Callan, then. If we’re going, let’s go.”
Ella was aware of how brusque she sounded, but she told herself she didn’t care. They weren’t friends. It didn’t matter how hot he was.
Callan nodded, his Adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed heavily. “Okay. Well. Let me sort things out here. Pay for the, uh, the milk.”
Looking down, Ella cringed a little as she thought about how she’d hit him in the face without even stopping to think about it. He didn’t seem hurt at all, but it didn’t stop the guilt from creeping up her throat. Her only excuse was that she was running totally on adrenaline and fear. Between what had happened to her home and her lab, and then the car that’d been following her, she’d been scared out of her mind.
“I’m really sorry about that,” she blurted out. “I didn’t know – I just thought –”
Callan held up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s fine. It takes a little more than a dairy product to keep me down.” He ran a hand over his chin. “Though you have one hell of a swing on you.”
Ella bit her lip. She supposed it was a compliment, but she didn’t think she should say thank you for it.
She picked out a few snacks as Callan went to talk to the clerk and presumably smooth over the fuss they’d caused. She’d pay for the milk. It really was the least she could do.
The snacks she grabbed weren’t exactly healthy – a bottle of Coke, a packet of Tim Tams, some chips – but she’d never been a very healthy eater to begin with, and the approaching deadline for her PhD had only made it worse. There’d been several times when she’d looked up from writing or ana
lyzing her notes, only to find a whole day had gone by in which she’d only eaten a packet of pumpkin seeds.
Frowning, she put the Tim Tams back and grabbed a couple of muesli bars instead.
There. That’s healthy, isn’t it?
She made her way to the counter, her snacks clutched to her chest.
“I’ll pay for the milk,” she said, before either Callan or the clerk could say anything. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Already done,” Callan said. “Plus a little extra for the trouble. I offered to mop, but apparently it’s all right.”
The teenaged clerk nodded, eyes bright. “For a hundred bucks? Yeah, you can throw around as much milk as you like.”
Ella raised an eyebrow as she pulled out her wallet to pay for her snacks. A hundred? Who is this guy?
“Don’t worry, I’ll get those too,” Callan said, indicating her snacks. Before she could object, he’d already pushed a twenty across the counter to the clerk, who scanned her items and handed Callan his change.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get on my good side,” Ella said as they walked back out into the heat of the service station parking area. “What kind of cop throws money around like that? Which reminds me, where’s your ID?”
Callan glanced at her. “I’m not that kind of cop,” he said, after a moment’s pause. “The people who messed up your lab, your home – they’re not what you’d call ordinary criminals, I guess. I’m not trying to scare you, but…”
Ella shook her head. I’m already about as scared as I can be, thanks.
“This car that was following you – make, model? Did you get the number plate?” Callan asked, tone serious.
“I’m sorry, no. The number plate was all dented and one side was bent up so you couldn’t read it. And I don’t know a lot about cars, so I couldn’t tell you make or model. It was black, though – a black van.” She laughed. It was slightly possible, she supposed, that the stress was getting to her. “You said they weren’t ordinary criminals, but they’re driving around in the most cliché criminal car possible.”
A smile tugged at Callan’s lips. “Could be – maybe they’re just hiding in plain sight. Maybe it’s reverse psychology.”
