The Alpha King Call Boy
Chapter 89

Alexander

There were two steaming bowls of soup on the table when Kayden and I went back into the cottage, and the woman bade us eat. After we complied, we thanked the both of them for their hospitality and began our hike back to town. While we walked, I caught Kayden up on the intel I gathered from the little girl.

He took the information in very seriously.

"That's a pretty good lead," he said. Then he opened his mouth, hesitated, and laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that I was about to ask, out of habit, if you thought the source was credible. I mean, it's still a valid question. Just funny, considering."

Then it was my turn to chuckle. "I think we can trust her," I said, smiling amusedly but also earnest in my statement.

"Mean lady with the fishes," Kayden repeated quietly, thinking.

We returned to the dairy shop in town and purchased an assortment of artisanal sheep's milk cheeses. I overpaid in cash and refused to accept the change. "Thank you for your assistance earlier," I told the shop owner. "I can't tell you how much we appreciate your speaking with us and answering our questions."

She was flummoxed, looking at the hundred dollar bill in her hands like it was an alien artifact. "I didn't even really help you," she muttered. "I can't accept this, sir." Kayden was behind me, near the door. "Perhaps you could do us one more favor," he suggested, "and give us some directions, if you wouldn't mind?" "Sure," she answered. "Where you trying to go?"

"What's the closest fishing village around here, and how do we get there?"

"Oh, that's easy. The southbound night train will take you right there. It's just the next stop after this one."

Our train squealed to a halt at the seaside village an hour before dawn the next morning.

Kayden and I disembarked in the dark and camped at the station until the first bus of the day rolled up in perfect sync with the first sign of daylight.

We performed a similar routine as the day prior. Shopped at the tiny, rural town's meager selection of local businesses and made our inquiries. I had considered perhaps we'd be there too early to find many people in town, but it was just the opposite. Business started very early in the fishing village, apparently.

I dared not ask any of the townspeople about Iris directly, this time. Instead, I asked after Terry.

It did not take long to acquire walking directions to Terry's shoreside cabin.

We occupied ourselves in the town for as long as I could keep hold of my patience. Business was alive in the town center and fish market, but that still didn't mean that sunrise was an optimal time to disrupt a person at their home.

After an hour, several fish and potato breakfasts and countless cups of black tea, I told Kayden I couldn't wait any longer, and we set out on our hike.

The cabin was situated midway up a low hillside, less than twenty yards from the shore. It was surrounded by a massive, moss-covered and half-rotten wood deck, a quarter of which overhung the ocean, supported by concrete pylons plunged into the shallow depths.

It was eerily quiet in this private, isolated sliver of the world. The ocean was calm, sending only the faintest ripples of waves lapping up the muddy shoreline lazily.

The nearby dock was full up with small fishing boats tied in every slip, which told me the cabin's inhabitants were likely inside, not out fishing.

Kayden and I traded wary glances as we approached the cabin.

He stayed below. I ascended the deck stairs, gave a short but distinct knock on the door, and then retreated to stand next to him in the sand.

After a few seconds, I heard footsteps inside the house, coming closer. Then the interior door eased open slowly. A tall figure took shape behind the dark screen door.

I saw a mass at the figure's side and discerned that they were holding some kind of weapon.

"I am very sorry to surprise you like this," I called up the stairs. "Please forgive the intrusion. We are looking for a woman named Terry."

"Who are you?" she barked.

"My name is Alexander, and this is Kayden. I-"

"What do you want with Terry?"

"Well, we are looking for an old friend of mine," I explained, my sense of danger increasing with every passing second. "I was told she may be living in this fishing village with Terry. Her name is Iris." The woman was still and silent for about two seconds.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on edge.

Her next movements happened in rapid-fire.

The floorboard creaked under a single heavy footstep as she lunged forward, threw open the screen door, crossed the threshold and marched to the edge of the deck.

The woman was tall, blonde, and rough-looking. Tanned and wrinkled from long years of sun exposure but probably no older than fifty.

Planting her feet into a military stance, she raised what I now saw was a sawed-off shotgun, and aimed it at my head.

Kayden and I froze. Then we raised our arms slowly in unison, palms flat and inching skyward in surrender.

"No Iris here," the woman said. "No one here you should care about besides me and my rifle."

"I am very sorry," I said calmly. "We mean you no harm and will leave immediately."

The woman then descended the steps and began to stride confidently forward, the barrel of the gun and her two open eyes still locked on me.

Kayden and I paced backward, moving as a unit.

The woman pursued us slowly, giving chase.

"We are leaving," I said. "Please lower your weapon."

"I'll lower my weapon when you're out of firing range."

"Ma'am, we meant you no offense. Please, I have to ask you again, lower your weapon."

"One shot with the sawed-off will blast the both of you into fish food," she hollered.

Kayden and I kept moving backward, our pace nearing a jog now, keeping our hands up and our eyes on our aggressor.

"If you want to keep yourselves in one piece each," she said, "turn around now and start running."

She cocked the gun.

I did not come all this way just to turn my back and allow a manic fisherwoman to blast my beta and I into a heap of leadshot-ridden fish bait.

I was seconds away from shifting.

It would give me my best chance. I was strongest in my wolf form. Yes, the woman could shoot before I could charge and disarm her. But there was no way in hell that I was going to just passively turn my back to anyone with a gun aimed at my head. I had only just stopped retreating, preparing to lunge for the gun, when suddenly a voice called out from the house: "TERRY! TERRY, STOP!"

Finally our would-be shooter stopped moving forward. Kayden and I froze in place once again.

Terry kept her unblinking eyes on us. She said nothing in reply to the person in the house.

In my periphery, I saw a figure emerge from the cabin, pushing through the screen door and crossing the deck. I held my focus on the gun that was still pointed at my head.

"It's alright, Terry," the person shouted. "They're not a threat. Let them in. Please."

Only when the gun was de-cocked and lowered to Terry's side did I finally look over at the deck to see who it was.

A short brunette woman, about thirty years old, met my eyes.

She clasped both hands to her heart and smiled.

It was, unmistakably, Iris.