The Change

by C V Leigh

  “Legal drugs aren’t enough to sedate someone like you—like us,” he corrected himself. “Although, I don’t think I’ve ever met a lycanthrope like you,” he added.

  “That’s probably not a bad thing.” She dumped the towels on the floor and strode to the chest of drawers, where she picked out some clean underwear and put it on. “I don’t know why I do the things I do.” She moved to the wardrobe, opened it, and glanced up at the woollen jumpers on the top shelf, but settled on a pair of jeans and a shirt and dressed quickly. “I didn’t mean to hurt that man in the pub. Or Jacob. I didn’t mean to attack you and Alistair. I didn’t mean anything I said.” She took a deep breath and twisted to face him.

  “We know.” He ran his hands through his thick, brown hair. “I have to take you back to the cellar,” he said sadly. “Alistair wants to keep you safe.”

  “Are you sure it’s me he’s protecting?” She ran a brush through her hair and scraped it back, before tying it in a thin band. “I’m okay now. Whatever it is, it’s passed. I can feel it.”

  “I can’t take any chances, Megan.”

  “You mean you can’t disobey Alistair—again.”

  His cheeks flushed. “That too.”

  “I understand. Will you ask him to visit me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can I at least get something to eat first? Maybe see the children? I’d like to try to explain…”

  Zane swallowed. “I guess that would be okay. I can’t let you starve. And they are your children.”

  * * *

  Megan stood by the kitchen table while Zane fried bacon and sausages. She salivated at the greasy smells rising from the pan. He handed her a plate of bacon and sausage, and she sat down to eat them.

  “Uncle Zane!” Ben raced into the kitchen. “Mmm… That smells good. Can I have some?”

  “Please,” urged Megan from the table.

  “Mummy!” Ben ran towards her, arms wide open, and embraced his mother. He looked up at her with large hazel eyes. Whereas his brother had the typical Kincaid piercing blue eyes, Ben had been blessed with a mix of browns and greens.

  Michael sauntered in, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans. He barely acknowledged her, instead pulling up a stool to the breakfast bar, away from the table.

  Megan offered him a smile, then said to her youngest son, “I’ve missed you. Are you behaving?”

  Ben nodded and climbed onto her knee.

  “Taking care of your brother?” It was a question aimed at her eldest son, one he refused to answer. “How’s school?”

  “It’s okay,” Ben said sadly, sliding off her lap and into a chair.

  “That smells good,” Tess said, walking in and going straight to Zane.

  “Hey, Aunty Tess,” Ben said in his usual sing-song way.

  “Hey, munchkins. Good journey?” She sat down at the table.

  Again, Ben nodded and Michael ignored them all, resting his head on his arms.

  Zane handed plates laden with bacon and sausages to his girlfriend and nephews.

  “I want to explore,” Ben piped up, grabbing his cutlery. “Daddy said you used to play in the old barn.”

  Zane laughed. “Yes, we did. There are lots of old straw bales in there that make great dens. I’ll show you later.”

  “Just be careful,” Megan warned. “Daddy also told you about the time Uncle Zane fell and broke his arm.”

  Ben rolled his eyes and forked some bacon into his mouth.

  “How are you feeling?” Tess asked her.

  “Much better,” Megan replied, before licking the grease from her fingers. She watched as Zane sat beside Tess and began to pick bits of food from her plate. They giggled and chuckled together, blissfully unaware of the fire burning in her stomach as she fought the wolf begging to be released as the drugs slowly wore off. She couldn’t tell them, though. They’d only lock her up again. Away from her children.

  “Weather’s coming in,” Zane said around a mouthful of sausage, gesturing at the window. “I’ve asked Nicholas to pick a few things up for me from town. Is there anything else anyone needs? I’ll text him.”

  Megan looked across and saw the first white flecks of snow hit the pane, then melt from the heat exuding from the house. “The cellar gets cold,” she said absently.

  Zane cleared his throat and exchanged glances with Tess. Tess nodded. “Come on, kids.” She stood up and started to walk to the door that led into the hallway. “Why don’t we go and get our winter gear on and we’ll go look at that barn, yeah?”

  Ben finished eating and ran up the stairs eagerly. Michael looked less enthusiastic, but followed his brother nonetheless, with Tess close behind

  “Michael knows something’s wrong,” Megan said once he was out of earshot. “We need to be a normal family.”

  A cold wind whipped in to the room when Alistair opened the back door. He shrugged off his thick coat and kicked his boots into the corner. “Everything okay?”

  “I was just about to get some more blankets,” Zane said, standing up.

  Alistair eyed his wife.

  “It gets cold… down there.” Megan nodded towards the cellar door.

  “Where are the children?” Alistair asked.

  “Upstairs, putting on their winter clothes. They’re going outside with Tess to explore the old barn.”

  “You’ve seen them?”

  “Yes,” she said defiantly. “And it’s obvious they’re not happy at that school. A mother can tell. They should be here, with me.”

  “Megan, they need to—”

  “I could home school them,” she suggested, the idea leaping out of her mouth before she had time to think about it. “They could live here permanently, and then you can prepare Michael properly, without rushing backwards and forwards.”

  “You’re not well—”

  “I am fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “We’ll consider it an option.”

  She nodded. “Don’t make me go back down there. It’s cold, and I don’t like being alone. I need to spend time with the children. Zane can still do all his tests, but I need to be up here. With my family.”

  “Okay,” he said reluctantly.

  Megan smiled. The burning in her stomach had subsided, quelled by his proximity.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Taedmorden, Cairngorms

  Nicholas parked the Land Rover at the side of the road and left the ignition on. He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, observing the comings and goings of the town. Snowflakes fell in a steady stream, landing on the windscreen like feathers from a burst pillow. The wiper blades rhythmically pushed them away, improving his view of Nathan Trevell.

  It had been a pure coincidence he’d seen him on his first trip to Taedmorden the previous day. He’d been dealing with the police, lining willing pockets to ensure Megan stayed free and out of the spotlight when Nathan had walked by and into a small bed and breakfast. He’d watched him for a while before heading back to Faol Hall.

  Whatever Nathan was up to, he was taking his sweet time about it. He’d landed at Heathrow, stalked the children, then headed up to the Cairngorms, but still hadn’t tried to make contact with Megan—if that was indeed part of his plan. He’d been staying in the B&B and spent his time making acquaintances throughout the small town, claiming to be an American writer going by the name of Nate Travis, in Taedmorden to conduct research for his latest novel. Nicholas scoffed at the idea.

  He removed his cufflinks and placed them in the centre console. Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his pinstriped shirt and undid the buttons of his grey waistcoat. He took it off, then placed it neatly on top of the jacket already draped over the passenger seat. He waited until Nathan entered the B & B before turning off the ignition and getting out of the car.

  The snow didn’t bother him—it simply melted against the growing heat of his skin. The hair that dusted over his arms thickened. His teeth sharpened and elongated with every step he took; Nath
an’s scent growing stronger.

  He pushed the B&B’s front door open and stepped inside, sniffing at the air. Cheap laundry detergent, burned toast, and bleach flooded his nostrils. A woman asked if she could help, but he knew where to go. She shouted after him as he took the stairs two at a time. There was no point in stealth–Nathan would have picked up his scent as soon as he’d entered the building.

  “You’ve grown old,” Nathan said, appearing in a doorway.

  “You’ve grown stupid. Why are you here?”

  Nathan glanced at the stairwell. “You should leave. I wouldn’t want to upset the locals, give them anything to talk about. The last thing Alistair would want is idle gossip. Now be a good dog. And walk. Away.” His accent was tainted by fifteen years of living in the States.

  Nicholas leapt towards him. He twisted his fingers into Nathan’s collar and lifted him off the floor. A loud crack sounded out as he slammed Nathan’s head into the wall. Nathan laughed and held onto Nicholas’ wrists.

  “I’m calling the police!” shouted the woman from downstairs.

  “Walk away, Nick,” Nathan spat. Spittle landed on Nicholas’ cheek.

  “I told you not to come back.” He shifted one hand to Nathan’s throat and began to squeeze. “I told you to stay away, and you chose to ignore me.”

  “I felt her,” Nathan spluttered. “I was in the States, and I felt her as though she were in the next room.” The two men stared at each other. “I consulted with CAPA, and they said it could only mean one thing. That’s why I’m here.”

  Sirens blared. Blue lights shone through the window and flashed over the walls.

  Nicholas released Nathan and pushed him towards the stairs. “Let’s go for a walk.” They left as the police pulled up, ducking into a narrow alleyway at the side of the building.

  The snow had started to settle, crunching underfoot as they made their way to the edge of town. Golden-brown heather covered thousands of acres, rolling over the peaks and valleys separating them from Faol Hall. In the later summer, it would be a carpet of pinks, purples, and blues.

  “I take it your family don’t know you let me leave.”

  Nicholas shoved him forward. “They know you escaped before the trials.” Nathan swung for him. Nicholas ducked and rammed his fist into Nathan’s gut. “And still, you came back.” He flexed his fingers.

  Nathan straightened and spread his arms wide, welcoming the icy wind that blew over him. “I’m surprised he sent you, and not Jacob or Derek. How are the twin Kincaids anyway?”

  “You’re still wanted by the Council for murder—”

  “I didn’t kill anyone!” Nathan thrust a finger towards the older man. “I didn’t,” he said, more calmly. “But it wasn’t an accident.” He rubbed his cheeks. “Did Megan ever tell anyone the whole story? No.” He laughed as though he was the punchline of a bad joke. “Of course she didn’t. Why would she? That would mean admitting this—all of this—was her doing. That she was to blame.”

  Nicholas faltered. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I first met her, she was this sweet young girl who used to hang around the grounds of the North Riding pack house. She’d catch crickets and frogspawn, or forage for hazelnuts and blackberries.” A chuckle resonated through him. “She was so innocent, so beautiful. Why would I kill her family? You had just disbanded my pack, you made me a rogue stray. I wanted her family to join us.” He shook his head. “I didn’t start the fire. I certainly didn’t kill anyone. It was all Megan.”

  Nicholas leapt. He landed on Nathan, forcing him into the sodden ground. Mud and moss squelched as they rolled, each throwing punches at the other until they were both covered in blood and muck. Nicholas gave Nathan one final shove. Nathan lay, panting for breath.

  “Get out of this country,” Nicholas warned, getting to his feet and fixing his shirt. “Get out, and don’t ever come back.” He started to walk away.

  “She’s pregnant, you know,” Nathan called. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why they sent me. The witches. I felt it. We’re connected by a bond even Alistair Kincaid can’t break.”

  Nicholas stopped in his tracks. “Witches?” He twisted around slowly.

  “You really have no idea, do you?” Nathan said with a chuckle.

  Nicholas flinched, his nose twitching as he reined in the urge to punch Nathan again. “And what if she is pregnant? They’ve had two children already. Why would this one be any different? Why didn’t you feel them?” He looked back to the road.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Nathan spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground. “This one is a girl.”

  “What?” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “And this one is touched by magic.”

  Nicholas turned to face him. “What are you going on about? Talk sense.”

  “She’s not human. Not now, not when I met her, not ever.”

  Nicholas frowned, unsure of what to say. He looked down at the man, still lying in the dirt, shirt ripped and soaked with his own blood.

  “Megan’s a witch.” Nathan shook his head, a strange smile stretching across his thin lips. “When I bit her, when she changed, something happened. A mix of bloodlines. Her parents were furious when they found out. They called her an abomination. I tried to explain…” He seethed, hissing a breath as he touched his wounds. He got up, wobbling as he tried to find his balance. “I didn’t know. If I had, I wouldn’t… you know that. You know it’s dangerous to even try to create a hybrid.”

  The muscle below Nicholas’ left eye twitched.

  “Megan wanted to be both. Her mother was a powerful witch, descended from an American coven.” He snorted a laugh. “And not just any coven. The coven. She had no choice, you realise. She had to cast a spell. She couldn’t have her daughter turning into a wolf. A hybrid? No. They called it memory magic—”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “Haven’t you ever wondered why she didn’t scar? I sank my teeth right into her arm, but there’s no mark to prove it. She walked out of that fire without so much as a scratch. She’s more than dangerous, Nick.” He blew out a breath. The air misted in front of his face. “Jesus Christ. I was minding my own business and suddenly… Fuck, I don’t know. It just came over me. This sudden… urge to be with her.”

  “Let’s say I believe you. If she is pregnant, if she is a witch, then it’s Alistair’s problem. It’s his child, not yours.” He began to walk away. “Leave.”

  “I can’t do that, Nick. We’re bound by more than blood, and it doesn’t matter who created that child. The magic is rooted in Megan and the baby. And a natural-born female lycanthrope? I want them. CAPA wants them.”

  “Then I have no choice…” He turned around, but Nathan had vanished. He scanned the land, frowning. There was no sign of man or beast.

  He made his way back to town and climbed into the Land Rover. He noticed the piece of paper Zane had given him peeking out from the pocket of his jacket, still folded on the seat–the shopping list. Nicholas glanced at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Blood and serum oozed from the cut on his cheek. Mud smeared over his bald head. His shirt was ruined. Zane would just have to cope with what he had. He had to get back to Faol Hall.

  Alistair had to know.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Faol Hall, Cairngorms

  “He can’t have just disappeared.” Alistair wore a hole in the carpet.

  “I’m sorry, Alistair, but he did.” Nicholas sat on the antique chaise longue in the drawing room of Faol Hall, watching his nephew pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. Outside, the wind had picked up, bringing with it more snow and ice. Winter had arrived early and was making its presence known.

  The fire crackled. Embers glowed on the freshly-cut logs. Long orange tongues flickered at the brick breast, reaching up the chimney to battle the elements outside.

  “I looked everywhere,” Nicholas continued. “He was nowhere to be seen.”

  “At least we know he’s h
ere. We can prepare for that, at least.” He paused. “There’s something else. Tess found out CAPA has been keeping tabs on us. They have layouts of all our homes–Edinburgh, London, Paris, and Faol Hall. There are photographs of us all too, including the children. I don’t know what they’re up to, but it can’t be good.”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it’s time to kindle a better relationship with the Americans.”

  “Perhaps. Does he really believe the bullshit he spouted?”

  “Yes.” Nicholas stretched his arms across the back of the seat. “He said he felt it all the way on the other side of the pond. I’m guessing you think somebody else found out and told him.”

  “You’d guess right. Shit. What a fucking mess.” Alistair ran his hands over his face.

  “How’s Megan?”

  “Better now the children are here.” He gripped onto the mantelpiece and stared at the flames as they continued to caress the grey brick. “I should speak to Zane. Get the test done. We need to know for certain. If she is, then maybe a blood test will be able to give us some idea as to whether it’s a girl or a boy. Maybe we can try and get a scanner up here, or something.”

  “And if she is? If it is a girl?”

  Alistair swallowed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “Where is everyone now?”

  “Megan’s asleep. Jacob’s keeping guard outside her room. Drake is entertaining the children. Tess and Zane are probably doing what they do best.”

  Nicholas smirked. “To be young and carefree. You remember that, don’t you?”

  “It seems like a long time ago. Thank you, Nicholas. I know it’s not been easy and I know you think Dad should have left all this to you. Sometimes I wish he had.”

  Nicholas stood up. He walked over and slapped a hand on his nephew’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. You’re the Alpha for a reason. If I wanted to fight you for dominance, I would have done so. Your father knew what he was doing when he left the pack in your capable hands. I supported his decision then, and I support it now. I’m not as young as I used to be, and it would be nice if I could ease myself into retirement.”