The Macgregor
“Calix Campbell listened intently to his cousin, Callum. Each word wound him up, one gear at a time.
‘And so,’ said Callum, ‘as far as we know, she’s a loner. But she’s a strange one. A brazen little bitch.’ Calix hissed softly. Brazen wasn’t the word for it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so pissed off. To be challenged by a lycan was insufferable. But to be beaten by one was an outrage too great to bear. She had practically confessed to shooting his sister with a silver bullet. Worse, she had outwitted him. No one had witnessed his shame. His desire for revenge was utterly consuming.
‘So,’ he said, ‘you’ve seen her at the racing yard, both at a distance and then more recently on the property?’ Callum shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen her, but Cordelia has. She suspects that the lycan may have developed some sort of relationship with Sean Duncan.’ Calix stood up and crossed to the drinks cabinet. From a small fridge he pulled a plastic bag.
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