Corrigan Rage

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Corrigan Rage Page 2

by Helen Harper


  ‘Peace and quiet,’ I murmured. ‘Come on.’

  We’d barely reached a spot of relative silence between the brickwork of the Tower and the moat next to it when the same raven flew over our heads and swooped down, examining the grass intently by our feet.

  ‘Hello,’ I said softly.

  ‘It’s a damn bird, Corrigan. What do you think it’s going to do? Say hello back?’

  ‘Not very bleeding polite is she?’ Leah’s head swung down towards the raven and she gaped. It squawked in irritation. ‘What? Don’t tell me that a beast changer is surprised to see a talking animal?’

  ‘I ... I ....’ She stammered.

  I smiled and inclined my head. ‘Excuse my sister,’ I said politely. ‘She hadn’t realised that the ravens of the Tower were sentient.’

  ‘What else would Corux be?’ the bird asked, patently affronted. ‘Do you know who Corux is?’

  ‘Your name is Corux?’ It inclined its head, irritation still apparent in its jerky movements. ‘And you keep the Tower safe,’ I soothed.

  It wasn’t particularly appeased. ‘Corux does a bleeding sight more than that. As do the others. If there aren’t six ravens at the Tower, then it will fall. And the kingdom will fall along with it.’

  ‘That’s real?’ Leah said. ‘I thought it was just legend.’

  It closed one eye and squinted up at her. ‘Do you want to test out that theory?’

  She backed off. ‘Er, no. That’s alright.’

  The bird squawked again. ‘Thought not.’

  I crouched down to get closer. ‘You never leave?’

  ‘We’re not prisoners if that’s what you mean.’ It gestured with one wing up towards the sky. ‘Corux can leave at any time.’

  ‘But you really do believe the Tower will collapse if you do?’

  It nodded slightly. ‘It’s not a matter of belief. It’s a matter of knowledge.’ It hopped to its left and began picking at a tuft of grass. ‘We all have our duties to perform, Lord Alpha.’

  ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘Naturally. And Corux knows responsibility can be a heavy burden.’ For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether it was talking about me or about itself. ‘Not every raven is as conscientious, of course,’ Corux continued. ‘There was Grog.’

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘Grog?’

  ‘Enjoyed beer too bleeding much, didn’t he? Took off to hang around a pub instead of here. Caused all sorts of problems.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ I said drily.

  ‘So what do you want? Corux bets you’re not here because you want to do some sightseeing.’

  The raven was clearly a canny creature. ‘No. We’re trying to locate an old shapeshifter seal.’ I pulled out my phone and showed it a photo I’d snapped of the old Way Directives canon.

  It lifted its back and crowed. ‘You come for Albus!’

  ‘You know it?’

  ‘Corux knows everything about the Tower.’

  ‘Where is it?’ Leah asked eagerly.

  ‘It belongs to the Tower.’

  ‘We only want to borrow it,’ I added. ‘And it did originally belong to us anyway.’

  ‘You gave it away when you wanted help with Henry.’

  I was baffled. ‘Who?’

  ‘The fat one. Hair the colour of fire. Killed his missus right around the corner from here.’

  Leah nudged me. ‘He means Henry VIII.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Corux grunted. ‘Him.’

  I had no idea what the bird was on about. All that I’d discovered about the seal was that centuries ago it had been gifted to the Tower’s collection of historical objects. No reason had been given. I couldn’t help wondering what had occurred between the long dead King and the shapeshifters for such an exchange to have been made. ‘Ravens have a long memory,’ I simply said, however.

  ‘We live in history every day of our lives,’ Corux answered. It cocked its head thoughtfully. ‘If you promise to return the seal by nightfall, Corux can get it for you.’

  I gnawed on my lip. I’d hoped to have the thing for longer than that. It would have been good to display it to the different Packs, as well as the members of the Brethren. Seeing the seal would add weight to its importance. Not to mention that merely borrowing it from the raven would hardly be the glorious storming of the Tower of London that I’d envisaged. Take the easy way out, I told myself.

  ‘Fine. We’ll wait here.’

  ‘Corux wants something return first.’

  I eyed the bird warily. ‘What?’

  ‘Grog is famous. Jim Crow is famous. Corux is not.’

  ‘You want fame?’

  ‘I want recognition!’ it hissed, forgetting for once to use the third person.

  ‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘Where’s the seal?’

  ‘White Tower. Not even behind a glass cabinet.’

  I jerked my head round. ‘Which room?’

  ‘Top.’

  I smiled. ‘I’ll go up and open the window. I’ll film you flying in and taking the seal. It’ll be on Youtube and going viral in minutes.’

  ‘Youtube?’

  ‘The whole world will see you,’ Leah explained. ‘Well, those with internet anyway.’

  Corux considered this. ‘Done,’ it finally squawked.

  Leah and I exchanged a look. It sounded like a damned good plan to me even if it still wasn’t the most exciting heist in history after all. Oh well.

  CHAPTER THREE

  With the official copies of the new Way Directives stamped and sent around the country, the seal returned to Corux and remarkably little dissension returning our way, I had to admit that I was bored. I paced around the mansion then, when I realised I was simply getting in the way and preventing everyone else from working because they felt they had to stop and salute and tell me what they were up to, I retreated to my office. I was glad there weren’t any problems to deal with but I was starting to feel somewhat redundant.

  Flipping through the papers on my desk, I scanned the latest report from the Arch-Mage concerning Mack’s progress. He hadn’t initially been keen to keep me in the loop but I’d managed to convince him that until we knew what she really was, it was in all our best interests to track her activities. I was unsurprised that she’d been causing waves and struggling to make friends. It was actually rather gratifying to discover that it wasn’t just my authority she balked at, even if the information that she’d shorn her hair left me feeling faintly disappointed. I’d enjoyed seeing her with her natural hair colour and found it hard now to imagine her otherwise. I had to smirk at her enrolment in anger management classes though. I was sure she’d been less than thrilled to receive that assignment.

  I drummed my fingers on the desk and made a decision. No doubt the Arch-Mage would think I was over-stepping the mark and sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong. Staines would probably agree. I told myself, however, that Mack had spent the majority of her life within the Pack so even if she wasn’t a de facto shifter, she was still my responsibility. It was a theory that wouldn’t hold up in court but suited my purposes for now. I threw on my coat, yelling out to Leah that I was heading out. She muttered something in return that sounded like’thank goodness’. I chose to ignore it.

  The counsellor offices were surprisingly luxurious. The receptionist straightened the second she saw me, recognition flickering in her eyes. That would help. I wasn’t sure how seriously this place took their confidentiality. I didn’t want to breach any ethical rules but I didn’t want to leave without seeing Mack either.

  ‘You’re Lord Corrigan!’ She blinked several times and stood up, walking round the shiny chrome counter to greet me.

  I turned on the charm. ‘You recognise me? That puts us at a disadvantage because I don’t know who you are.’

  She gave me a full wattage smile. ‘Lydia.’

  ‘That’s a beautiful name.’

  She blushed ever so slightly. ‘Thank you. Are you here to see a counsellor? We normally require appointment
s but I’m sure I can bump the next client...’

  I put up my hands to stall her in midflow. ‘No, no. I’m simply here to catch up with an old friend.’

  ‘Oh.’ A tiny line appeared in her forehead. ‘We don’t have anyone pencilled in from the Pack. There’s a water nymph and a couple of pixies. I think we have a mage coming in too...’

  I snapped my fingers. ‘That’ll be her. The mage. Mackenzie Smith. Although, between you and me, she’s not really with the Ministry.’

  The receptionist’s face fell. ‘Oh. Are you sure she’s coming here?’

  ‘I am.’ I leaned in closer. ‘I would really like to surprise her. It would mean a lot to me if you didn’t tell her I was here.’ I felt a delicious shiver of anticipation at seeing her again. She didn’t strike me as the kind of person who enjoyed surprises but I wanted to see the look on her face and was confident that if I could just talk to her, she’d start to relax. The last time I’d seen her, we’d seemed to finally be getting on well. And she did save my life then tell me I was’alright’.

  ‘Uh, okay,’ the receptionist agreed. She tucked a stray curl of blonde hair behind her ear. ‘You know, I have a lunch break at midday. Perhaps after you’ve seen your ... friend, you could get to know me even better.’

  Guilt flashed through me. I must have taken the charm offensive a touch too far. I hadn’t meant to give her the wrong end of the stick. ‘Sorry, Lydia.’ I tried to let her down gently. ‘I’m, er, busy. I have a lunch appointment at Alcazon.’

  Her body jerked. ‘I thought it was closed on Tuesdays.’

  Shit. I clumsily backtracked. ‘Maybe it’s at another place. That’s why I have other shapeshifters around to keep me on track. Sometimes I don’t even know what day it is.’

  She appeared slightly mollified. ‘It must be hard being in charge of so many people. You can wait in our staffroom if you wish. There’s coffee there.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I murmured. ‘Will you let me know when she arrives?’

  She bit her lip and nodded. Not wanting to prolong the awkward conversation any longer, I gave her a quick smile and edged away out of sight.

  There were some interesting posters displayed on the walls of the little staffroom. I was just reading one about how to approach faeries with attention deficit disorder (apparently challenging them to make you some faerie dust is a good way to focus them) when Lydia reappeared.

  ‘She’s here,’ she said breathily. ‘She’s out at reception.’

  I grinned. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Shall I come with you?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘Actually, perhaps if you could give me a bit of privacy...’

  Her face clouded with disappointment but she murmured a quiet ‘of course.’ I supposed there were some perks to being Lord Alpha.

  I padded silently down the corridor. Clearly, Lydia hadn’t done a particularly good job of hiding my presence, however. I could hear Mack fiddling with something and moving around with the sort of careful measured steps you only took when you were preparing for a fight. She probably didn’t yet realise who I was so I switched tactics and made a show of being noisier, thumping my way back to the little reception area. Perhaps it would help her to feel less threatened. Surprising her might not have been such a good idea after all.

  By the time I reached the corner, all was silent. I paused. It was very possible she was going to leap out and attempt to slit my throat. I took a deep breath, her familiar scent swirling round me. It was still odd – not quite human or shifter or mage – but it was all Mack. As far as I could tell, she had pressed herself against the other side of the wall. I didn’t know how good her own sense of smell was but when I heard her breathe in deeply and then hiss and curse, slamming her hand against the plaster, I knew she’d finally worked out it was me.

  Mack sprung out, facing me with her features tight and her hackles raised. Her yellow flecked eyes were spitting fire. For some reason she was clutching a pen in one hand, thrusting it out towards me like it was some kind of weapon. Despite her obvious anger, her bald head with just the faintest covering of soft red stubble made her look vulnerable and scared rather than dangerous. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t help myself.

  ‘Hello, kitten,’ I smiled.

  Mack’s reaction was predictable. She launched her free hand out towards me, pushing it into my chest as if to shove me away. I’d been expecting something of the sort, however, and managed – just – to hold my ground. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ she spat.

  I needed to defuse the situation. ‘Why are you being so aggressive?’ I asked. ‘I thought we were friends now.’

  ‘We were never friends,’ she said, tossing her head. She was actually right about that. I had enough friends. For some unfathomable reason I still wanted more than that from her. She jabbed the pen in my direction. ‘Now tell me just what exactly you’re doing here.’

  I took a step forward and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to drop the pen. ‘Are you going to ink me to death?’ It was a feeble attempt at a joke that didn’t go down well.

  ‘Get your hands off me!’ Her voice was high and strained.

  I should probably have let her go to help calm her down. Instead I tightened my grip fractionally. She could probably break away from my hold if she really wanted to but, satisfyingly, I felt her defences start to drop. Her expression softened and I was beginning to think we could have a normal conversation when she abruptly changed her mind and pulled away.

  I looked at her for a long moment. Knowing what I did now, her previous wariness around me made a sort of sense. But she was fully aware that no-one still thought she was a shifter. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked gently, trying to bring her fleeting look of softness back. ‘I thought we parted on good terms.’

  She glanced down although not before I registered hurt on her face. ‘You told the mages all about me! About what happened in Cornwall and the fact that I wasn’t strong enough to beat Iabartu.’

  I leaned back. She thought I’d been telling tales about her. Except all I’d done was make sure the Arch-Mage was fully aware of her worth. ‘No, I told the mages that you were stronger than virtually any shifter I’d ever come across, and that you did well by almost besting a demi-goddess.’ I was completely honest. ‘I wanted them to appreciate your strength. By knowing more about you, I figured they could help train you to be even stronger than you already are.’

  If I’d thought my words would appease her, I was sadly mistaken. ‘Do you have any idea how patronising that sounds?’ There was a sudden scorching heat rising from her pale skin. ‘And besides, I know it’s bullshit. You’re just pissed off that I decided to go with them instead of stay with you. Well, guess what, buster?’ Her eyes challenged me. ‘I’m having a great time! It turns out I am pretty good at all this mage stuff. I don’t need you sticking your nose in.’

  I felt my own ire start to rise. I’d been honest with her. She didn’t seem to think I deserved the same back. ‘Is that right? Because the way I hear things, you’re not doing so hot. In fact there was something about you almost getting kicked out for losing your temper. Isn’t that why you’re here?’

  ‘You’re getting reports on me?’ Her mouth dropped open in horror. ‘You have no right, Corrigan. I’m not part of the Pack so you can fuck right off.’

  I felt myself losing control of the situation. ‘You saved my life,’ I said, trying to salvage what I could. ‘In some cultures that means that you’re now responsible for me for life.’

  ‘Well then it’s just fortunate that’s not my culture then, isn’t it?’

  My insides tightened. No matter what I said, she was determined to remain aggressive and angry. ‘This is not going quite how I’d planned it.’

  ‘My heart bleeds for you.’ She flounced away to the couch and sat down. The strange flapping gown she was wearing fell open to reveal a heart-stopping amount of smooth skin. If she only knew just how much effort it took to keep my eyes on her face instead of her
bare thigh...’Now please leave,’ she stated firmly. ‘I have a very important appointment to keep.’

  There was no way I was leaving her like this. I walked over and joined her, trying a new tack. ‘Your new haircut, it, um, suits you. It’s quite dramatic.’

  ‘Oh, you’re going to have to do so much better than that, Corrigan.’ Damn. Apparently Mack wasn’t as easy to win over as Lydia the receptionist had been. I rather liked that about her. At least she stuck to her guns.

  I lowered my voice and leaned in towards her, still forcing myself to look at her face and not her bare legs. ‘So give me the chance then.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  I sighed. I was wasting my time. Mack obviously didn’t want anything to do with me and maybe it was time I respected her wishes. I could try again after she’d had some anger counseling and was in a better mood. Before that thought could formalise, however, I noticed an ugly wound on her hand. It looked incredibly painful. I stiffened. ‘What the hell happened to your hand?’

  She seemed surprised that I cared, which annoyed me more than it should have. ‘Nothing. I just needed some air so I punched a hole in a window, alright?’

  ‘Did someone hurt you?’ I demanded.

  ‘No.’ She twisted her hands away out of my sight, as if she were ashamed.

  My anger continued to rise. ‘Mack, I mean it. Did one of the mages do this to you?’ I would raze their damn academy to the ground if they’d hurt her, whether she wanted me to do it or not.

  ‘No, Corrigan. I did this to myself.’ Her voice was tired and resigned but there was a ring of truth to her words.

  I gritted my teeth. Why did every conversation with her have to be so difficult? ‘Fine, then.’ I met her eyes, attempting to prove to her that I wasn’t the enemy. ‘But, know this, I’m on your side, whether you believe it or not.’ She let out a tiny, adorable snort, followed by a fleeting look of horror as if she couldn’t quite believe she’d made that sound. I almost smiled. ‘And anyway, Mack, if you really want to avoid my attentions quite this much, then you should perhaps not flash me quite so much skin.’

  She jerked her head up at me, for a moment patently confused. I grinned and pointed downwards. Her eyes widened when she realised just how much of her body she was inadvertently revealing and she stood up, a flush of embarrassment lighting her cheeks. It made her look younger than her years and reminded me that, despite her continued prickliness, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to stay away from her. Not while there was still hope that I could bring her round to my side. I reached out and gently chucked her chin to try and assuage her blushes.

 

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