4. Caleb
I was overreacting.
I knew that, I really did, yet I was still wandering around a college campus like I wasn’t entirely too old to be there. Plenty of students got started later in life, but as a thirty-two-year-old man, I felt surrounded by teenagers—which was entirely plausible when some undergrads started at seventeen.
Ugh.
I had nothing against children or teenagers, but I didn’t really enjoy interacting with them. I preferred to keep my distance. So why was I walking around a college campus? Well, I may or may not have gotten one of my shadier connections to run the plates of the car I saw pulling away from BLX.
I was doing too much.
But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t get that scent out of my head, or my worries about the new wolf. I’d heard horror stories of loners or abandoned pups shifting for the first time in front of humans, then going into a frenzy that ended up accidentally killing someone they loved. I hated the idea of that happening to anyone, so I just wanted to make sure the girl was safe. That was all. It had nothing to do with the fact that she smelled like...
I cut that thought off and recommitted myself to the search, seeing if I could pick up any shred of that familiar scent. I was beginning to grow frustrated. I’d already checked out the home of the car’s owner and come up empty.
I was also a little relieved. The house the car was registered to was a giant, soulless mansion: lawns too green, topiaries too maintained, and a driveway far too long. I had nothing against people with money in general; it was just that the ones I met in the upper tax brackets were complete and total assholes. There was a reason they were comfortable having so much while those below them often had so little.
True, I’d committed a little harmless breaking and entering to get into the car in question, but her scent had only barely been there, already masked by the overpowering scent of upholstery cleaner. That meant it wasn’t a vehicle she rode in often, as her signature smell would’ve sunk much further into the fibers. In the modern age, cars could be a lot like miniature dens, and shifters tended to mark them thoroughly. Even if she didn’t know what she was yet, she likely would’ve had the compulsion to do that.
After doing a full perimeter scan, I was certain the girl didn’t live there. I then turned to social media, using the name the car was registered to, and found someone far too old to be the male I saw at the club. I checked if he had any children. Lo and behold, I found the social media profile of a kid who looked exactly like the gentleman I saw with the new shifter.
Bingo.
From there, it was fairly easy to find out what college he went to. It wasn’t a guarantee that the shifter would go to the same college, but it was fairly plausible. At least my natural shifter youthfulness didn’t make me stick out like a sore thumb. We did tend to age pretty slowly, and I’d likely look like I was in my twenties all the way up until my forties or fifties.
I’d hoped when I’d first strolled onto campus that I’d magically run into the girl and we’d be able to talk, and she’d be perfectly safe. However, it wasn’t turning out like that at all. After a little over an hour, I managed to acquire the phone numbers of four women, two blisters, and exactly zero signs of the new shifter. I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the girls, as most of them were young, but I figured it’d be easier to find out if a random animal started attacking the campus if I could contact several students who went there. Though I really hoped to run into the girl before she went through her first shift, as the hours ticked on, that was becoming less and less likely.
Why did the college campus need to be so big, anyway? Were students really expected to walk across all this with their backpacks? Sure, I could do it, but I was a shifter and had preternatural healing abilities as well as strength and endurance. I saw students who were barely one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet.
My phone buzzed, and I took a moment to check it, eager for a moment’s relief from the failure and frustration growing within me.
Hey, what are you up to?
You’re still not on that new shifter kick, are you?
It was Keller. I swore sometimes he knew me too well, but that was what came from being friends and pack mates for so long. There wasn’t anybody else I’d want to cover my back in a fight, but sometimes it was irritating to be seen through so easily.
I could have taken the time to answer him, but I didn’t wanna risk him talking me out of what I was doing. If I wanted to waste my time, that was my business. My inner alpha just couldn’t let go of the idea that somewhere close by me was a ticking time bomb of a girl with no idea what was waiting for her. I could just see her shifting alone somewhere, frightened, in pain, scared that she was dying, and the thought made me sick. Even if she were all right, I would feel so much better if I could just confirm that. Was that so wrong?
My phone rang, and my first instinct was to answer it, all so I could bitch at Keller that he’d only just texted me. There was no need to act like a particularly needy girlfriend. But thankfully, I had the wherewithal to check the caller ID and saw that while it was a familiar number, it wasn’t anyone I wanted to speak to.
I shoved it into my pocket and willed myself to forget about it. I had too much to worry about now.
Feeling put off by the call I’d very deliberately dodged, I headed over to one of the benches by what looked like a very informal quad. Plonking myself down on it, I tried to think of a better plan than what I was doing, because clearly it wasn’t working. I hadn’t gotten to be an alpha or lived to the ripe old age of thirty-two without having a decent brain.
I pulled out my phone again, fiddling with it like it would give me the answer. I was still thinking when the clock on it ticked 1:00 PM. About one minute later, the quad was flooded with people all walking speedily in different directions and to different doors. Right, the change of the hour usually meant a change in classes. Duh. I hadn’t really gone to college, and even I knew that.
Watching the overwhelming surge of bodies, I was once again inundated with so many scents. With so much noise in the background, could my olfactory senses ever hope to locate that girl again? Or was I really on a fool’s errand?
Part of me wanted to give up, but then that same familiar scent slammed into me again, practically with physical force. Jumping to my feet, I rushed after it, hoping against hope that somehow I could find the girl and make sure she was okay. Then I could go back to my regular life and stop having to worry so much.