Danny Campbell Narrator Novels & Stories

Because when you're ready to rejoin the living, I'll be the only woman left in your world. I called my contact that evening, after Alessandro had finally emerged for dinner. He'd been quiet, distracted, but he'd sat at our table. He'd held our daughter. He'd played the part of the devoted family man, even with his heart breaking. "It's done," I said when the familiar voice answered. "I know. I saw the news reports." "Any loose ends?" "None. The car was destroyed. The body..." He paused. "Let's just say there's nothing left to identify."

Maybe they’re cutting through after patrol. I don’t like Lochlan, but I hate Eamon. Once, when I was younger and staying with the Campbells, they had him over for dinner. He was a big deal then. Declan Kelly’s beta. He leered at me all night, and then he said to Dan Campbell, “It’s a pity about her legs, but I guess they’ll spread just fine.” Eileen hustled me off to the kitchen to help her with the dishes. The past decade hasn’t been kind to him. His knuckles are gnarled, and the hair on his head has receded, although his mutton chops are as bushy as ever.

Sitting felt too much like being pinned. Kane stayed near the doorway, visible in the hall just like Maddox demanded. I caught a glimpse of Maddox’s shoulder down the corridor—close enough to see, far enough to pretend he wasn’t there. Kane waited until the silence settled. Then he said, “Your father’s name was Daniel Carter.” My grip tightened around my coffee cup. “Yes,” I said, careful. “That’s public record.” Kane nodded. “He was a county cop. He responded to a call—‘wild animal attack’—out near the ridge line.”

Present day. Denver, Colorado. Miranda Campbell, née Kane, hesitated outside Cassie’s Café. She caught a glimpse of her own face in the window, and she sighed at her haggard appearance, at the deep purple bags under her violet eyes. She’d barely slept the night before, and no goddamn wonder.

The one connected to my Sexy Red persona. Danny's name flashed on the screen. What could he possibly want? My hands were shaking as I grabbed the voice modulator and answered. "Hello?" I said in my altered voice. "Sexy Red, hi," Danny said, and something in his tone made my stomach drop. "Hi," I responded carefully. "I thought about everything you said," Danny continued, his voice oddly calm. "And there's something important I need to tell you. Can we meet? Just briefly. In the next ten minutes. This is very important."

Then he could go back to his normal routine of catching bullets. The FBI's tech had a name for their serial killer. Daniel Campbell. Fifty-four. He'd lived in and around Las Vegas for most of his life. He'd started out as an electrician before an accident ten years ago made an active lifestyle impossible. There was a string of minor charges against him for bar brawls, but otherwise nothing since his juvenile days, and those records were sealed.

Joseph said nothing, only lifted his chin in a slow nod, signaling him to go on. “Can you tell me more about them?” Danny asked, his voice thin with hesitation. Instead of answering, Joseph spoke with the measured patience of an elder. “Why don’t you tell me what you remember, nisókaa?” So, Danny did. He recounted the campfire tales, the trickster who shifted shape and fooled others, the pranks that often ended in pain. His voice grew tighter with each story, his shoulders stiff. Joseph sat motionless, never lifting his gaze, as if weighing every word.

“Alpha Andrew Campbell. Dark Desert Pack.” Before she could ask me another question, I turned around, walked out of the hospital and drove home.

Zane spoke quickly and excitedly. “I bet you are.” Daniels said with a big bright smile towards Zane. Zane and Daniels moved past the headquarters into the tented area in silence. They got past the tents and suddenly it hit Zane that he didn’t know the camp’s name. So he asked Daniels as we moved towards the barracks: “What's the name of this outpost?” He asked curiously “It’s Camp Delta.” He answered. They reached the barracks area and they looked like college dorms. Daniels told Zane there were two soldiers in a dorm room who would be roommates. They walked past a few barracks and eventually came to barracks J.

“Friendly? Donovan, she practically brings you coffee every morning. And she doesn’t do that for just anybody. Trust me, I know the look of someone crushing hard.” He shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “You’ve lost your damn mind, son.” I laughed again and I couldn't help thinking that the banter had softened the edges of the heaviness in my chest. For a moment, it almost felt normal for me again. But then silence stretched between us, and my thoughts from earlier dragged me back to the depressing pit I was in before. I sighed and leaned against the couch. “The Campbells are back in Boston. I saw them tonight.”