“Are they still alive?”
He shrugged, frustration colouring his features. “I don’t know.”
“Why?” My brain struggled to come up with a viable reason why these experiments were going ahead, especially in relation to LIXER and blood farming. “Why would they be wanting to remove the limitations for turning humans into shifters? What could they hope to gain?”
The sound of his back teeth grinding preceded his words. “I have no clue.”
It was something we’d have to find out quickly. A surge in shifters created by science could never be a good thing. Who knew what was in the human and shifter’s systems for the change to happen?
“Did your sister know someone in the Blue Mountains?”
I searched my brain, thinking back to any slip in a discussion we may have had. “Not that I’m aware of. I left Blackheath a damn long time ago. It meant our calls were limited and rare. Just a couple of times a year.” Sadness swept over me, wishing I had done something, anything differently. I’d offered to get her out so many times, and she’d always refused. So why would she leave with the help of someone else? She’d known I had the connections and resources to make it happen.
Tentatively, he said, “Debbie?”
I sat up straighter and tore my phone out of my pocket. “Holy hell. Debbie.”
“Who’s Debbie?” Thatch searched my gaze.
“She was Hazel’s best friend when she was a kid. Her parents died, so her big brother, Grady, looked after her. He mated when he was eighteen and took Debbie and his other sister with him when he changed packs. My father was pissed, threw a stink about Grady leaving rather than bringing his new mate into Blackheath.” While I’d been young when it had happened, Grady had been a good guy. He’d left me a contact number for David, the alpha of the pack he was transferring too, promising me if I needed help, I should call. He’d known about the beatings I’d received, the level of cruelty. Everyone had. It was a number I’d memorised and had automatically added to every phone I’d ever had. Some habits died hard.
“You think Lucinda may be there?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
The call picked up on the fifth ring. “Who’s this?” The voice was gruff, authoritative.
“David Laketon?”
“Yeah.”
Relief flooded through me that the number was still active despite all these years. “My name’s Callen Blackheath. I was wondering if Debbie or Grady Morton were still—”
“I know who you are.” While there was no shift in tone, no welcoming reassurance, he hadn’t spat my name in distaste either. I hoped that was a good thing.
“Okay. That makes things easier. My sister, Hazel.” I was silent a beat. I could not break or allow my emotion to bleed through. “My niece, Lucinda.” I slammed my eyes shut, and the warm reassurance from earlier pressed through me. Thatch’s hand was on my shoulder. His touch welcome and grounding. “Is Lucinda there?”
For five long seconds, he was silent. “You not asking for Hazel?”
“I found her yesterday.”
“You did?” Relief pressed through the line, evident in those two words.
“You didn’t report her missing.” Accusation slithered through my words, but even as I said them, I knew they were ridiculous and futile. She’d been on the run. “Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay.” He was giving me a pass, so unlike many pack alphas I knew. Tiredness spilled into his voice when he said, “Is she alive?”
“No.” I shook my head, my eyes swimming, and Thatch’s hand squeezed firmer. “My niece.”
“She’s safe.”
Phone still at my ear, my head dropped, my hand covering my face. Tears swam in my eyes unbidden, relief visceral and all-consuming. She was alive and safe. “I—” My voice cracked.
“This is Agent Liam Thatcher of the SICB.”
I held my breath and refocussed, grateful to Thatch for taking the phone from me.
“David Laketon.” His voice came loud and clear, and I realised Thatch had put the phone on loudspeaker. “Hazel, what happened to her?” The alpha’s voice sounded hollow. Grief coloured his words. I clung to the emotion, taking strength from it. It seemed genuine.
“Hazel was taken. We think from the street after work.”
David cleared his throat before he spoke. “That would be right. She’s been gone for almost a month. She was working at one of our local bars. She’d been working a late shift and never returned to the pack’s land.” His voice came out as a growl when he said, “You catch the bastards who took her?”
Thatch flicked his gaze to me. I’d calmed a little and collected myself enough to sit upright and focus intently on Thatch and his conversation. “No. But we will. We’re closing in.” His gaze fixed to mine the whole time. And while he’d been answering David, I heard the promise in his words. “Have there been any more abductions?”
“No, nothing.” David sounded frustrated. “She was so careful, knew her father’s pack had been looking for her. She had a new identity, kept close, never strayed from the pack’s rules.”
“Yet she was walking out in town by herself late at night?” I growled the words out, my bitterness unable to be contained. I was all too aware that I should have protected her, kept her safe. Knowing I hadn’t done anything to save her… it wasn’t something I’d ever forgive myself for. That I hadn’t known that she’d left our old pack wasn’t a good enough reason.
I should have known.
David sighed. “I know you’re upset, pissed, so I’ll let your accusations slide, Callen. We’re just as angry that she was taken. We assumed it was Blackheath, had the feelers to the ground but haven’t heard—”
“It wasn’t,” Thatch interrupted. “It was a private organisation involved in some nasty shit. Things are precarious for shifters at the moment.” I was all
