The Change

by C V Leigh

  “Thank you.”

  Jacob shrugged. He closed the door behind him and headed down the stairs.

  Nicholas stood in the entrance hall, staring up at the portraits hanging on the wood-panelled walls. In particular, he looked at the one of Malcolm Kincaid. An oil depiction of the previous Alpha of the Kincaid family. He shared the same straight nose as his brother and youngest son, the same ash-brown hair as Drake, and the same deep-set eyes as Alistair. Jacob didn’t think there was much that connected him to his father.

  If he was honest with himself, Jacob felt like the outsider of the family. He had always been a lot bigger than his brothers. He’d worked hard on his degree, his doctorate, his career as a lawyer, in an attempt to impress their father, but Malcolm had never been easily swayed. Jacob was the brawn of the family. His brains didn’t matter a jot.

  “He loved you, in his own way,” Nicholas said, clasping his hands behind his back. A single scratch lined his clean-shaven jaw–the only visible evidence he’d been in two fights recently.

  “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

  “Zane is in the lounge with Megan. Be gentle with him,” he warned. “He’s not like you or your brothers. He can’t separate himself from his feelings. He gets that from your mother.”

  “Any sign of Nathan?”

  “The trail went cold.” His shoulders trembled with a silent laugh. “I took a big enough bite out of him though. He’ll be holed up somewhere.”

  “Perhaps he skulked back to town in search of a doctor.”

  “Nathan won’t let a human heal him. I’ll go out when the sun is up, and the snow has abated. You can come with me. I might need your strength.”

  Jacob contemplated his uncle. He knew Nicholas, knew what he was capable of. If he wanted to hide something, he would dig deep to bury it.

  He left Nicholas with the paintings and found Zane in the lounge, pressing a stethoscope under a cuff wrapped around Megan’s arm as he took her blood pressure. “Everything okay?” Zane asked, catching Jacob’s eye.

  “Yeah. I wondered if you had anything stronger. For Tess,” he added.

  Zane frowned.

  “She’s okay, but in pain.”

  “I’ll bring something up later.”

  “I can take it.”

  “No. I will.”

  “Boys…” Megan warned. “Don’t argue.”

  They both shot her a look. “We’re not six,” Jacob said. “Zane. Let me help. Please.”

  Zane clenched his jaw. The muscle in his cheek ticked. “I’ll come with you.” He removed the cuff and dropped it back in the bag by his feet before bending down to take out a small cardboard box of tablets.

  Tess was sat up and reading when they returned to her. She beamed when she saw them, or more when she saw Zane.

  “What are we going to do with the women in this family?” Zane teased and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

  She slapped it away and scowled. “It’s a few bruises. I’m not dying. And anyway, if this had happened to one of you, you’d be able to hear the moaning in the next town over!”

  “It’s a bit more than that,” Zane countered, gesturing at the scratches marring her skin.

  Jacob chuckled and went to prod the fire.

  “Here.” He handed her the pill packet. “Take one of these and try to get some rest.”

  “What are they?”

  “It’s only codeine. If you need something stronger, let me know. I don’t want to dull your senses though. We all need our wits about us. Especially now.”

  Jacob twisted to face them. “I’d like you to do some more training. With me. I’m sure Zane is capable, but—”

  “I agree,” said Zane. “Jacob is stronger than I am. He can help you.”

  “I don’t need to train.”

  “Yes, you do,” both brothers said.

  Zane leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I have to go back to Megan.”

  “Wait.” She reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, then retrieved a USB stick, which she handed to Zane. “It’s everything I downloaded from CAPA. Everything you need to know is on here. I’m sorry I didn’t show you before. I was trying to protect you.”

  “Well, now it’s my turn to look after you. I swear when I find that prick, I’m going to rip him limb from limb.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re going to let Nicholas handle it.” She placed a hand on his arm.

  Jacob felt like an intruder at such a tender moment. “I’ll go and check on Megan and the boys. Alistair wants a pack meeting later.” He glanced at Tess. “Just us. No offence,” he added, not wanting to piss her off even more than he already had.

  “Jacob…” Zane’s voice made him falter in his step. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Jacob nodded, unsure of how to answer. He headed back down the stairs, listening out for the sound of the two boys as they played, unaware of the truth. There were so many secrets in the house he felt like he was drowning in them. It was a mountain to scale, and one he didn’t have the energy for.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cairngorms

  Nathan leaned against the cold stone and examined the wounds decorating his shoulder. Nicholas Kincaid had left him with five beautiful stripes that lined the joint, ran across his chest, and down to his ribs. He picked a scab off and flicked it into a puddle in front of him. Snowflakes continued to fall through the broken roof and melt on the cobbled ground.

  He’d been lucky to find the abandoned barn so close to the Faol Hall estate. From where he sat, he could hear the stream trickling around the edge of the property, icy floats cracking against protruding rocks and stone. The tops of the tall trees peeked out above the descending mist. At least the storm was beginning to pass. The clouds slowly parted to reveal the fat curve of a white moon.

  He took a sharp breath and stretched out his wounded arm. Everything ached. He needed to rest, give his body time to heal. A growl reverberated in his chest, eking up his throat until he felt it in his mouth, rolling around on his tongue.

  Nathan closed his eyes. He extended his neck and rocked his head from side to side. He’d felt it when he stalked through the forest. The closer he got to her, the stronger the feeling got. The hairs on his arms stood on end, tugging at their roots. His heart beat as though it grew in his belly. He could feel the baby swimming in its watery sac; tiny flutters of life in the pit of his stomach. He had to get to her. No matter what it took, he had to be near her. He had to take back what was rightfully his.

  Leaning forward, he warmed his hands over the flames of a small fire. Bright yellow tongues licked at the frigid air, spitting ash towards the sky. He poked a broken stick into the hot rocks and took it out again. Blowing on the burning end, he then held the red embers to his shoulder. He stifled a yell as he cauterised the wounds.

  Digging into the pocket of his torn jeans, he then found and removed his mobile phone. A spider web of cracks fractured the screen, and the battery was close to dying. There was no service anyway. He had no way of contacting CAPA and the witches who had sent him. He’d questioned whether their memory magic would work, and they’d dismissed him with a flea in his ear.

  He should have known better than to trust a coven, especially one that had been associated with the damned Salem trials. Not that it mattered now. The potion he’d been given was back in his room at the B&B and had probably been confiscated by the police after he’d left with Nick. He’d well and truly fucked everything up, but if he could get to Megan, then perhaps it wouldn’t have all been for nothing.

  The smell of burning flesh filled the air, singeing his nostril hairs. He inhaled the acrid, greasy stench and took comfort in it. Nathan lay down on the dry moss scattered over the fractured cobblestone. He settled on his side, keeping his injured shoulder up and against the cool, grey walls. He needed to find somewhere more suitable to rest and heal.

  He’d spotted a large barn when he’d been prowling the grounds
of Faol Hall, caught the scent of children as they played innocently amongst the straw bales. Ideally, somewhere warm and dry, but dangerously close to the main house. It wouldn’t take much for the Kincaid brothers to pick up his scent, although he hoped the storm had helped to cover his tracks.

  It was something to consider, but for now, he would remain in the decrepit and decaying hovel.

  He kept his eyes on the burning flames and his ears on the marshlands and the hills. The wind whistled over the valleys, tumbling through the fields of yellowing heather.

  A sheep cried out, lost and divided from its flock. His stomach grumbled. It had been a while since he’d last had something to eat, and a frightened lamb would be easy pickings.

  * * *

  Jacob marched around the old cellar, scratching at the rough hair that covered his jaw. Nicholas stood by the table, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, fixing the cufflinks of his crisp shirt. Alistair sat on the hand-carved wooden chair, gripping the arms.

  “So, what do we do?” Nicholas broke the tense silence.

  “We wait for Zane,” Alistair said.

  Jacob folded his arms. “He’s probably fucking his girlfriend.”

  Alistair shot him a look.

  “Sorry!” Zane panted for breath as he burst through the doorway. He closed it, then secured the latch, ensuring nobody could interrupt them.

  “We need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do about our uninvited guest,” Alistair said, bringing the meeting to order. “Come up with a true plan of action, rather than just prowling the land and getting each other injured. How’s Tess?”

  Colour crept up Zane’s neck. His brow knitted into a worry line. “Bruised and battered, but she’ll heal.”

  “I tore him up pretty good,” Nicholas said. “He won’t have got far. Now the storm has passed, it will be easier to track him. We’ll make sure he doesn’t return.” A malicious smile twisted his lips.

  “We should wait until morning,” Drake countered. “We all need to rest.”

  “We’re giving him time to get away. Time to heal.”

  “We should stay here and rest,” he said firmly. “And, what about the children?”

  “Nobody is going to guard those boys more fiercely than their mother,” Alistair said.

  “We know the land. We should use that,” Drake said.

  “What can I do to help?” asked Zane.

  “You should stay here.” Alistair looked at his youngest brother.

  “You’re still treating me like a child!”

  “I’m treating you like the only doctor in this family.” He slammed a hand into the table. The others looked at him. He closed his eyes in a long, slow blink and flexed his fingers. “We need you in full health so you can treat any injuries. I need you here for Megan. You’re the only one who knows how to dose her correctly, especially now we know she’s pregnant.”

  “I’ll go,” Jacob offered. “Nicholas already has his scent. We can track him and finish him off. I’ll rip his heart out. He can watch me eat it.”

  “Don’t underestimate him,” Nicholas warned. “He’s not stupid enough to come too close to the house. I would suggest Drake comes with us to search the lands surrounding the property. Alistair, we need you here. We can’t risk him hurting… killing… our Alpha. If anything happens to us, it’s not so important.”

  “You’re all important. But I understand. You three will go out tomorrow,” Alistair agreed. “If possible, bring him back alive. Drake, stay in human form and take a dart gun in case you get the opportunity. I still have questions I need him to answer.” He glanced at Zane. “You’re staying here. You’re the only one I trust to save our lives.”

  Zane bristled but kept his mouth shut.

  “Everyone in agreement?” Alistair asked. A murmur flowed over them. The Alpha nodded. “Good. Once the phones are back, the first thing we do is use all of our contacts to get hold of CAPA. Nicholas, you know the New York office better than I do–find out what the fuck is going on there. Who is it that’s following us?” He focussed on his uncle. “It’s time to let some ghosts get the peace they deserve.”

  * * *

  Michael lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, shrouded in shadows. Moonlight split through the crack between the heavy curtains and scattered over the carpet. He pressed his head into the thick pillows, listening to his dad and uncles discussing what to do next. They didn’t think he could hear them, but just recently his auditory skills had sharpened to a fine point. It had shocked him at first–he’d expected his senses to improve, but not to become so immense. He could hear mice scurrying through the attic. At school, it was enough to give him a headache; the constant noise of hundreds of children surrounding him. At least Faol Hall was quieter. Not entirely silent, but quieter. Enough to give him a break and allow him to collect his thoughts.

  He could also hear the wolf they were hunting. Smell his blood on the air. Hear his cries as pain wracked his body.

  He should tell his father. There had been much talk of Nathan Trevell floating around the family home. His uncles were ready to fight him, but his dad wanted him brought in for questioning. Maybe he could bring him in. He’d grown stronger recently, too. If he did that, then his dad would be proud of him. He’d be brought into the pack rather than left on the side lines as though he were still an annoying little pup, like Ben.

  Michael tucked his hands behind his head and smiled. That’s what he’d do. He’d track Nathan Trevell down before his uncles could, and his dad would name him as heir to the Alpha.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Faol Hall, Cairngorms

  It had been a restless night for both of them.

  Megan had spent it tossing and turning, and when she did sleep, she mumbled her way through bad dream after bad dream. Alistair had held her, soothed her, comforted her when she cried out and clawed at her stomach like the being inside her was some kind of disease needing to be cut out and discarded.

  He rubbed at his eyes with clenched fists, then blinked until the bright screen of his computer came into focus. The sun had yet to rise, but Megan had finally settled, and he’d decided to get an early start.

  He picked up the mug by his hand and took a long sip, savouring the much-needed caffeine rush. Going for a run had been a consideration, but with Nathan prowling nearby, it wasn’t safe for any of them to be out alone. They’d agreed that until he’d been caught, they should go out in pairs or threes, and everyone else was still asleep.

  He read over the files Tess had found, searching for a connection between CAPA and Sanguis Luna Law and coming up empty. The staff in New York had been well and truly vetted by Nicholas and Jacob, and the office was only small–a token stopgap, used to hold meetings and not much else. The lights above him flickered, the generator threatening to die. He’d be grateful when the power and phones came back on, and he was able to call the offices in Edinburgh.

  The sound of movement upstairs caught his attention. Heavy footsteps came through the ceiling, followed by the sound of running water. The pipes clunked and groaned like an old man being forced to move. As children, they’d told each other stories and pretended the plumbing was made of ghosts that lived in the walls. They’d imagine the spirits of their ancestors haunted Faol Hall. They were why the lights flickered, why the power cut out so frequently, and why the phone lines hissed and crackled.

  He remembered the silly yarns Jacob would spin to frighten Zane, and how he’d find his youngest brother hiding in the barn, comforted by the smell of warm, dusty straw. Ben was so much like Zane, it scared him. And, like his uncle, Ben had a soft heart and adventurous spirit. Michael, on the other hand, was becoming more and more like Jacob by the day. His mood swings could be down to the change in hormones, to his body preparing to shift, but Alistair thought there might be something more lurking beneath the surface. He hadn’t voiced his concerns though, certainly not to Megan.

  He looked back at the computer and pinched the bridge
of his nose. His eldest son needed more of his attention than he could give right now.

  “Good morning,” Tess said as she appeared in the doorway. The usual melodious lilt had ebbed away from her voice, leaving it scratched and scathed by her encounter with Nathan. She slid into the leather chair opposite him and brought her knees into her chest. She hugged an old woollen cardigan around her. “Can I help in any way?”

  “How are your psychic abilities?” he asked with a laugh.

  She gave him a half-smile.

  “You are helping, Tess. You’ve already done more than I should have asked you to do.” Sorrow glazed her blue eyes, and guilt hit him right in the gut. He swallowed. “Tell me what you think. I want your opinion.” Encouraged by her fleeting smile, he continued, “You know everything that’s going on in that office. If someone is colluding with the enemy, I’m sure you know, even if it’s on a subconscious level. You’ve visited the New York office. Any concerns?”

  “Honestly? I think it’s one of the witches. I’ve never trusted them. With their black cats and broomsticks…” She feigned a shudder.

  Alistair laughed, pleased her sense of humour had returned. “You know the myths about them hold as much water as the ones about werewolves.” The word left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Wait.” She held her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m getting something.” She murmured and hummed. “I’m getting…” she slapped her hands on the arms of the chair and opened her eyes, “that a lack of sleep is sending you stir crazy, so you should go get some rest. Seriously, Alistair, there’s nothing you can do until the lines are back up.” She pulled her mobile phone from the pocket of her cardigan, pressed the screen and peered at it. “I don’t know about you, but I have no service whatsoever. Jacob and Derek are going to stalk the grounds with Nicholas and look for the big, bad wolf. We are just little piglets in our house of bricks.” She winked. “Perhaps we should stoke a fire.” She unfurled her legs and put her feet on the floor. “Zane’s gone to check on Megan. I very much intend on having a hot bath before the children wake up and demand breakfast. You,” she pointed at him, “Mr. Alpha, should get some sleep. We need you strong and sane. You can’t be our Alpha when you’re running on coffee and hope.”