Home -- Wolv book 3

Six - It's me

The voice on the other end of the phone was raspy and hoarse, sending chills down my spine. It was all I could do to pick and keep the phone in my hands--instinct was screaming at me, begging me to end the call and to smash the satellite phone into a thousand pieces--yet my curiosity shouted back just as loud.

How did Abrams find me?

But then of course, it wasn't me that he'd 'found.' As far as he knew, Scott Abrams wasn't talking to Humfrey Michaels...

"Norman? Are you there?"

I pinched my throat with my free hand, changing the sound of my voice. "Hello," I wheezed.

"Ah, good! Thought I had a dead number there for a moment! This is Scott Abrams calling. We did some...business together last fall, as I'm sure you will recall!"

The man's voice, even through the phone, sounded torn and winded. Last I'd seen Abrams, he'd had a breathing by-pass valve in his throat; a stoma, as it was called, that enabled him to breathe. His throat had been mauled last year in Atikaki; he had attempted to destroy the pack there, only to find himself failing and on the wrong end of Mingan's jowls.

If only Mingan had bitten down a little harder.

"I remember," I rasped into the phone. "We sold you that boy."

"Yes, yes! That's right! Now, enough with the small talk. Might I ask where you are?"

"Uh...n-no..." My eyes widened, and I looked down at the phone in my hand. Abrams had a knack for tracking people and wolves alike down; he seemed to be quite fond of using GPS collars or chips.

Has he bugged this phone, too? Worse yet, what if he didn't need to bug the phone--what if he could track it regardless? If anyone could, he could--and I did NOT want to be found by the man again.

I lifted my thumb to mash the red "end call" button, only to hear his chilling voice trickle through the speaker once more.

"I see. Well, I suppose I can understand that! It doesn't matter, anyways. I'll be in touch soon enough! I was just wondering why you had my wolf in your possession?"

"What? I don't have any wolf!" Who is he talking about, anyway--

Mingan. Oh my word, he's talking about Mingan!

"Please don't lie to me Norman. I've got a GPS that says otherwise!"

"I don't--"

"Hush, now. I'm curious; how is it that you had access to two of those things? It seems like an awful big coincidence to me. I know what Humfrey Michaels was, Norman, just like I know what the wolf you have with you is. I think you know what I'm talking about."

It had taken less than two minutes for Abrams to go from saying "hello" to sounding eerily menacing.

"What are you getting at?" I whispered.

"You know exactly what I'm getting at. You know what I think? I think that you are just like them. You're werewolves too, aren't you? How else would you have come across two of mine--so far away from where they came, at that?"

"..."

"I don't expect you to admit that. Believe me, I sure wouldn't!" On the other end of the line, I heard the man break into a fit of raspy coughing. It was all I could do to keep on breathing; hearing the man's voice was driving me all sorts of crazy. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. I simply need a bit of help. I'd like to know how you came into possession of my wolf, and I would like it back. That is all! I'd be more than willing to...reimburse you for your troubles. You know that I have the resources to do so. So, what do you say? Would you like to do business with me, one more time?"