Chapter 32 Callisto
Chapter thirty-two
Callisto
The phone on my desk rings, startling me out of a deep focus on my current case files. I check the display to see Hale’s name.
“Yes?” I answer without preamble.
“I have Red Jones on the line. Will you take the call?”
“Always,” I say, scrambling my hands across the desk to find my mobile. The lock screen shows a missed call from both Red and Rickon.
The line clicks as Hale transfers and hangs up, and a second later Red’s voice sounds down the line. “Callisto?”
“Hey b—” Shit, I almost called her beautiful right off the bat. “Hey, Red,” I say, completely fumbling.
“Hi.” She sounds breathless.
My heart throbs and I check the time on my monitor.
Maybe I should drive out again tonight. “Um, s-sorry I missed your call,” I stammer.
“I was researching and didn’t see my phone.
” Damn, am I making excuses for prioritizing work again?
Clearing my throat, I swivel away from my screen.
“But I’m all ears now. Is everything okay? ”
“Well, we’re fine over here, I think. But I felt a surge through the bond and got worried about Zack. It doesn’t seem like he’s passed out or anything because we can both still feel him, but could you ring the prison and check? The only thing they’d tell me was to book a visitation appointment.”
My heart sinks a little. Of course she’s calling about Zack. “Sure thing. I’ll phone right away.”
“Thanks. And, um, I also wanted to ask you something, but I think it needs to be in person. Any chance tomorrow we could—”
Hale sticks his head through my doorway and waves, calling my attention away from what she’s saying. He whispers, “I have Alpha Lodgings on the line.”
A shiver works down my spine. This probably isn’t good news. “Hang on, Red. Apparently the prison’s calling me now. Let me put you on hold.”
“Shit!” Red gasps. “That means something’s wrong, doesn’t it?” Her voices rises, anxiety shredding her tone.
“We don’t know yet. Stay on the line.”
Hale runs back to his desk and does the transfer.
“Callisto Wren speaking,” I say as the line clicks over.
Zack’s voice comes down the line, sullen and rough. “Cal-ee.”
“Hi, Zack.” I close my eyes in relief. If he’s allowed to use the phone, that’s a good sign. “I was just talking to Red, and she said something happened. What’s wrong?”
“Zack listened to heavy music,” he declares.
I lean my elbow on my desk and rub my forehead. “Okayyyyyy. And what else?”
“Only listen to music.”
“I hear you.” He sounds like Rickon’s blasted parrot. Like he’s repeating what he’s been told. My eyes widen. “Did something bad happen while you were listening to music?”
“Yes. Alphas fall down in bookshelves with lots of blood.”
Holy shit. I press my fist to my mouth, digging my teeth into my knuckle. Al said the attacks would keep coming, but Zack’s only been back in prison for a couple of days. I jump to my feet, packing my laptop and finding my keys while hugging the receiver against my shoulder. “Did you get hurt?”
“No. Tell ohm-ga, Zack good.”
My heart thumps heavily, the inner relief unexpectedly sweet. “Okay, I will. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Of course. Zack only listened to music. Don’t like heavy music. Hurts my thoughts.”
I chuckle. “Me too, Zack. Did the guards say whether you could see your lawyer?”
“They say ask if you not busy.”
I scowl at my wall planner. Sounds like they tried to confuse Zack instead of getting him legal access as required.
And if I’m allowed to see him right away, that means they don’t have proof he was involved in the attack, unlike last time.
“I’m not too busy for you, Zack. I’ll be there as fast as I can,” I promise.
Zack rumbles. “They want me in quiet box because I only say listen to music. Zack don’t like quiet box.”
“You mean solitary? That’s normal, Zack. No one likes the quiet box.”
He huffs, the line crackling with his annoyance. “Cal-ee come?”
“Yes, I’m on my way. Keep saying you were listening to music.”
“Okay. Hurry.”
The line clicks off, and I switch back to Red, relaying Zack’s message. “I’ll find out what happened,” I promise.
“Thanks, Callisto,” she says in a shivery voice. “We’ll be waiting, so drop by the tent when you finish.”
The way my heart leaps at the invitation makes me shake my head at my foolishness as we say goodbye. “You’re a lovesick little puppy, Callisto,” I scold myself after hanging up the phone.
I catch Hale on my way out, asking him to search for any bail appeals where the applicants cited frequent time in solitary as a reason.
Maybe I can spin this situation to show Zack doesn’t understand the rules.
Or that he’s being unfairly targeted. I’ve lodged the request for an appeal, but the justice office is dragging their heels.
Most likely whoever barred Zack’s bail has a hand in this too.
I’m going to need a third party to apply some pressure.
I play Zack’s words over and over in my head on the drive out. It’s plain as day that they got attacked and Al gave him a story to tell. The gruff criminal boss seems to have an odd affinity for explaining things to the feral.
The prison’s expecting me, so this time I only have to wait a few minutes before getting into the visitation room. Zack gets brought in, locked in chains and simmering with annoyance.
As soon as the door shuts behind the guards, he asks, “Cameras in here?”
I shake my head. “No, just you and me. Did you get attacked?” He frowns and clams up, so I try again. “Al told you what to tell the guards, right? But you can tell me the truth.”
Zack crosses his arms. “But Cal-ee sends lawbreakers to cells.”
I wag my finger at him. “Usually, yes but now I’m your lawyer, so I try and get you out of prison. Tell me the truth so I can help—” My tongue tangles and I stop as the strangeness of our conversation catches up to me.
Zack only said a few garbled words, but I understood him pretty well. I know he’s learning at a frightening pace, but do I have a talent for understanding ferals? Zack’s the only one I’ve met, but maybe I could help others as well.
Zack grunts. “Truth? Alphas attack Al.” He turns his hands upside down and rings his fingers around his throat. “Squeeze here until he turn blue. Me—” He frowns. “Me or I?”
God bless him, working out the finer points of grammar. “I,” I tell him.
“I stop them. Then Al cut this off.” He holds up his index fingers, and my stomach rebels. Zack stares at me, blue eyes intense. “Ray talk but Zack hold back,” he declares. “But next time, I calculate and challenge him.”
“Good,” I say without hesitation.
And there I have it. The answer to all my professional conundrums: I’d rather protect Zack than uphold the law.
“But you can’t get hurt or caught fighting,” I warn, thinking of Red’s distress from feeling the bond.
Zack grunts. “Al and Owen say where cameras watch.”
Well, at least Alhedy’s earning his pay.
As I study Zack, I can’t help but think of the pitiful alphas trapped in cages in the mechanics’ basement, experimented on and forced into rut against their will.
While technically rescued, those men will get thrown in yet another prison cell and, if written off, potentially euthanized.
How many smart alphas like Zack are out there with nobody to interpret for them, nobody to believe in their potential?
Zack’s only been free for a few months, and he’s already talking about complex topics like plotting revenge.
Now he sits here, logically weighing his options.
Like a sponge, he’s absorbing everything, hungry for knowledge and meaning. The speed of his progress astounds me.
And Red was the only person who looked into his future and saw it all while he was still raving like a madman. My heart throbs, feeling like it tears open under the strain of the injustice.
“Zack,” I ask on a whim. “Would you like to help other alphas who are feral like you learn how to live?”
He twitches. “Who?”
I spread my hands. “Like the other fighters from the kennels. Most of them still live in cells in prison.”
He cocks his head, eyes narrowing, and a growl vibrates in his chest. “Go live with Red?”
“No.” I chuckle. “You don’t have to go that far. Just . . . I don’t know yet, but something different from prison.”
His jaw works as he considers until he nods slowly. “Zack knows. The scents, the challenges. Small, cold cells. Hurts.” He taps his chest and then his head. “Hurts big time.”
“Do you think you could teach them, like how Rickon taught you?”
Intelligence gleams in his big eyes. “Oh. Teach about laws?”
“Yeah, about laws and manners, and not fighting.”
“Difficult,” Zack mutters, rumbling at some distant memory.
I didn’t know he understood that word. Every time we meet, he surprises me.
“Will Ri-ckon help?” he asks suddenly, running his cuffed hands over his temples, as if a headache lurks beneath.
“No, probably not.” I shake my head. “Because Rickon’s busy helping Red.”
He looks down, tracing scratches on the table. When he glances up, a shiver runs through my soul at the burning look in his gaze. “Cal-ee good with words. Cal-ee help?”
I open my mouth to answer but he cuts me off with a chuckle.
“Zack have to protect Cal-ee. Fighters eat him alive.”
I groan. “Thanks a lot. Just what every alpha loves; having their weakness pointed out. But yes, it’s something we could do together.”
The big alpha smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort. But even the fact he can joke around proves how far he’s come.
“Think about it,” I say. “After we bring Ray down and get you out of here, it’d be something to do with your time.”
Even if he was poking fun at me, he has a good point.
I’d better complete the rehabilitation training as soon as my leave starts and, while I’m at it, I should speak to the OCB agent in Darinian who has two ferals in his care.
Not only is his pack organizing fundraising to keep ferals alive, but I bet he’d have some good ideas about how a system to support wild alphas should operate.
Zack reaches his arms across the table, bent at the elbow, with his hand loosely open. He stares at me until I clasp our hands together, as if we’re about to arm wrestle. “Cal-ee want to help ferals?”
I nod. “I’m helping you, aren’t I?”
His grip tightens, and his aura turns menacing. “When free, I test Cal-ee-stow to see if strong enough.”
My throat tightens, and adrenaline sings in my veins in instinctive response to his dominance. “Strong enough for what?”
“Everything.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises. Does everything include his omega and bonded alpha? I want to ask, but I don’t dare voice my thoughts; the hope is too fragile to be brought into the light. Regardless, my instincts tell me Zack acknowledges me now.
The alpha releases my hand and leans back in his seat. “When leave?” he asks.
“Ah, right.” I clear my throat, shaking off the daze. “I’ve submitted an appeal, so let me tell you how that works and what you need to say at the hearing, whenever we finally get assigned a date.”
He nods. “Zack listening.”
And he is, and I’m listening right back.