by C V Leigh
“Where the hell have you two been?” Jacob snapped as Zane and Tess walked down the steps.
“Where’s Nathan?” Tess asked, brow furrowing into the bridge of her nose. “What’s going on?”
Zane’s eyes turned yellow, flecked with dark blue. He leaped at Jacob and curled his fingers into his shirt. He lifted him off the ground and screamed in his face. “You fucking bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”
“Zane!” Alistair grabbed his youngest brother by the waist and yanked him off Jacob. “Focus it on Nathan.”
Zane twisted out of his brother’s grasp. He clenched a fist, swung, and threw the punch at Alistair, who blocked it. “Focus it,” he repeated.
Jacob looked at Tess, who shook her head vehemently. “We need to find him,” he said, stripping out of his shirt and jeans. He stretched his neck from side to side, crying out as his joints cracked and his tendons snapped. Thick hair erupted down his spine then spread all over his body. His jaw broke and elongated into a heavy snout. Warm, sticky saliva spilled over his curling lips.
He pawed the cellar floor, claws clicking against the cold stone, and growled. He stepped out from the shadows to see his twin and youngest brother had gone, taking Tess with them, leaving only his Alpha. Jacob lowered his head out of respect, before scrambling up the steps into the kitchen and bursting through the back door, out into the wilds of the Faol Hall estate.
He panted, thundering across the drive and grass, jumping over a fallen branch and into the depths of the forest. He stopped for a moment to sniff the air and find his bearings. It didn’t take long to locate the stench of treachery and blood. Nathan was injured and weak. He wouldn’t have been able to get very far, and transforming would have taken more energy than he had; remaining in human form would be his best chance of survival.
A cry sounded out in the distance. Jacob smelled more than the reek of stale urine and blood. He smelled fear. He trod carefully over the bracken and brambles, thorns snagging at his fur. The snow melted between his toes, dampening his paws.
He took in a deep breath, inhaling the scents of Nathan. And Zane. Something was wrong with Zane.
Lifting his head, his ears pricked, he raced towards the smell of his brother’s distress.
Zane stood in a small clearing, surrounded by tall firs with melting snow trickling down the crumbling bark of their trunks. They weren’t far from the edge of the property—he could hear the stream running down the mountain just beyond the treeline. His brother stood firm, silent, staring straight ahead. Jacob went to his side and licked at a scratch on Zane’s hand. Then, he saw a large, black wolf limp from the shadows.
He growled and stalked around the black wolf, putting himself between it and Zane.
“Jacob…” Zane put his hand between his brother’s shoulders. Blood dripped down his fingers into Jacob’s ash-brown fur. “Jacob, don’t. He’s dying. You don’t have to…”
The wolves exchanged snarls and glares, vying for dominance as they kept their eyes fixed on each other.
Nathan pounced.
A golden blur broke out of the undergrowth and barrelled towards them, before shoving Nathan to the ground and Jacob out of the way. Claws and teeth clattered, saliva and blood sprayed. Growls, roars, and whimpers of pain fought with the sound of snapping twigs as the two wolves tumbled in the wet mud.
Jacob’s stomach burned as he went to help. But it was too late—it was all over. The golden wolf lifted her head, her snout covered in the blood of her victim. She looked at them for a brief moment before clamping her teeth on Nathan’s jugular and tearing it.
A final cry left Nathan’s bedraggled, limp body. Then, finally, his corpse lay in the snow, silent.
“What’s happened?” Alistair jogged to catch up with them. “Tess…” He crept forward, his palm bared for her to sniff.
Drake joined them. “Fuck.”
She turned to face the four brothers; three humans and a wolf. She took a step forward, neck elongated, tongue lolling out and dripping with saliva and blood. Her lips curled as though she were smiling, panting for breath. She barked and yipped, then licked Alistair’s hand.
“It’s done,” Alistair said, stroking Tess behind the ear. He glanced at Jacob. “Go. We have a lot of work to do.”
Jacob raced back to the house. He rushed down the steps into the cellar and began his transformation, twisting and turning until he stood in human form. He pulled his jeans and shirt back on. Sweat dripped from his forehead.
He looked around the cellar, at the destruction and chaos.
He closed his eyes. “Fuck. Tess…”
* * *
Tess yawned and stretched. She reached behind her, stroking the wooden headboard with the tips of her fingers. Sunlight spilled through the open curtains, warming her bare skin. She frowned.
She’d had a horrible nightmare, one that left her feeling sick. She rolled the taste around in her mouth. After flinging off the duvet, she headed for the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush. Minty bubbles frothed around her lips as she scrubbed at the filth on her tongue. She filled a small tumbler with water and rinsed before repeating the procedure again. Then she drank several glasses of water. All of which did nothing to quell the nausea trickling through her.
Zane peered around the bedroom door frame. “I brought you some coffee, and bacon and eggs.”
“Shouldn’t it be me bringing you breakfast in bed?” she asked, walking back into the room.
“You had a restless night.” He placed a plate and mug on the bedside table.
“Sorry. I had this awful dream. I dreamt I killed someone. A wolf, I think.” She looked into Zane’s sad blue eyes and swallowed. Her heart pounded. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”
He shook his head.
“Nathan?”
He nodded. “Come here.” He opened his arms and held her close. She pressed her head to his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Squeezing her eyes closed, she inhaled his masculine scent.
“I’m a m-murderer.”
“No. No, you’re not. You did what had to be done. Tess, you saved our lives.”
“I don’t believe you.” She murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pulse throbbing in her temples.
“It’s true. Jacob agrees.”
“You’re talking?”
“I’ll deal with him later.”
Tess cringed, shrinking into his body. “W-what about the body? The police are already looking for him.” She sniffed the air. The sickly-sweet smell of burning permeated her senses. “I think I’m going to throw up.” She pushed past him, went to the window and peered out across the gardens. Smoke spiralled through the air, dancing with the morning mist. “Is that—”
“We had to make him disappear,” Zane said. “They’ll burn his body and bury the bones. If the police come back with a warrant and dogs to search the premises, they won’t find anything. Our scent will distract the hounds, and all the police will find is the remains of a bonfire.”
Tess’s heart leapt into her throat. “And Nicholas?” She went back and hugged him, desperate to feel his strength.
“We’ll have his funeral in the clearing near the family tomb. He’ll be buried next to Mum and Dad. But not today.” He took a shaky breath which betrayed the confidence in his voice. “Then we’ll go back to Edinburgh.”
“Edinburgh?” Tess said absently, her mind flooded with memories of the night before; the metallic taste of blood saturating her mouth. She closed her eyes and held onto Zane as the world began to spin faster than normal.
“Yes. We’re going back once the weather clears again.” He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her on her feet. “Tess? Tess!”
Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks. She opened her eyes. There was no blackness. Only red. The sound of his bones cracking pounded in her ears, vibrating over every single nerve.
The strong taste of iron filled her mouth, soaking her tongue and teeth. Her throat burned. Her
skin flamed. Sweat beaded across her forehead and dripped down her face.
“You need to rest.” Zane swept his arms beneath her, lifting her as though she weighed nothing. She floated through the air until she felt the mattress beneath her and sank into its warm depths. A shudder fell down her spine, tickling each bony nodule.
The duvet was placed over her. Zane slipped under it, and she nestled into him.
Hibernation had come at last.
Chapter Thirty-Six
A sombre mood shrouded Faol Hall. Jacob scrubbed the cellar floor, clearing away the blood and grime left by Nathan’s stay. Drake scooped up the linens and soiled bandages from Nicholas’ room and dumped them in a black bag, ready to be burned. Megan comforted Ben and Michael. They hadn’t been told everything. Tess lay in bed with Zane caring for her.
“She’s still in shock,” Zane said. He wiped a damp cloth over Tess’s forehead. “This memory magic…” He looked up at Alistair. “How much do you know?”
“Not much. I feel like we could all do with a dose right now though. I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I failed to protect you.” His arms dropped to his sides, and a heavy sigh left his lungs.
“There is nothing more you could have done,” Zane said.
Alistair knew his brother was trying to reassure him, but it would take much more than a few simple words to fix their problems. He’d spent all morning in an online conference with the British Paranormal Council. They’d bought Nathan a plane ticket to America, under his alias of Nate Travis. An anonymous source had passed the information to the Taedmorden police. A connection in the London Met reported Nicholas Kincaid had been killed in a road traffic collision on the M25.
“I wish I could believe you.” Alistair dragged his palms over the rough hairs covering his jaw. “This was supposed to be a retreat, a sanctuary. And now…”
“It still is,” Zane said. “It’s still our home. I’m sure much worse has happened within these walls. The history of Faol Hall is filled with attacks.”
“It should have been me who took him down. Not Tess. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think you had much of a choice.” Zane glanced down at her. “She was trying to redeem herself. What she doesn’t realise is she had nothing to redeem.” He turned his attention back to his brother. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place. That was something Tess had to do.”
“You thought I’d use it to kill Nathan.”
“It had crossed my mind, yes.” Alistair paused and held his breath. “You’re not angry with me?”
“I’m furious,” Zane said, sadness and regret drenching his voice. “But what is that going to achieve? I’m not like you, or Jacob, or Drake. I don’t want to feed it. I became a doctor to help people, not kill them.”
“Mum would be proud of you,” Alistair said, sinking into a chair. “She was always trying to find the good in everyone.”
“I wish I could have met her.”
“Me too.”
Zane narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“There’s still something you’re not telling me.”
“Oh, I’m tired. Worried about Megan. If it’s a girl, then…” He shook his head. He couldn’t put that family secret on his brother. Not yet. “I know it’s been hard growing up in this family. I promise I won’t ever ask you to do anything like that again,” he said, eager to change the subject.
“I always worried you’d find my humanity a weakness.”
“Never. It’s your humanity that makes you strong.” He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up again. “In some ways, you’re much stronger than Jacob. Stay here, keep her comfortable. She’s going to need you when she wakes up.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nathan may be finished, but we still have the matter of getting to the truth. If Megan killed her family… I don’t know. Everything’s changing, and I’m not used to having absolutely no control over it.”
“She’s still Megan,” Zane said. “She’s still the woman you married. In the fifteen years, we’ve known her, she’s never given us any cause for concern. She’s never shown any signs she’s part-witch, or as dangerous as Nathan kept trying to make out. She’s still the same Megan we know and love.”
“We need that memory magic.” Alistair left the room. He went into the study and fired up the computer. He sent an email to Imad at the Edinburgh offices. It was time to dig further into Megan’s past, even if that meant stirring the earth and revealing all of their long-buried skeletons. It was time to help his wife and let her find peace.
“Dad?”
Alistair turned to see Michael in the doorway, clutching at the frame as though he might be able to hide behind the thick layers of wood and stone.
“Everything okay?” Alistair asked, stifling a yawn with the back of his fist.
“Ben’s asleep.” He nodded. “Mum’s with him. Is it true Aunt Tess killed Nathan?”
“Come here.” He beckoned his eldest son and patted his knee. The nearly-thirteen-year-old climbed up and snuggled into his father in a way he hadn’t done for years. Alistair pressed his lips against the young boy’s thick, brown hair. “There’s a lot you need to learn about being part of a lycanthrope family. Sometimes we do things we don’t want to–things no human would ever do.”
“Unless they were deranged.”
“Yes, unless they were deranged.” He gave a small smile and wrapped his arms around Michael.
“Nathan said you were the bad guy and he was trying to help Mum. I know that’s not true now, but for a while, I believed him.”
Alistair felt his son’s tears soak into his T-shirt. “It’s okay. In a way, I guess he was trying to help her. Or at least, he thought he was. Nathan was… he wasn’t a nice person, you know? And your mum…” He heaved a sigh. “She was a different person when she knew him. Before she came to live with us, she’d had a lot to deal with.” He looked up and saw Megan standing where Michael had been. He kept his eyes on her as he spoke. “But whatever it is Nathan believed, she’s still your mum, and she’s still the woman I love.”
“I don’t want to go back to Little Wickham’s,” Michael said, his voice muffled by his father’s top.
“You’re not. I’m keeping you both here, where I can train you properly. After Uncle Nicholas’ funeral, we’ll start. Uncle Drake is going to stay too and teach you everything he knows. Your mum…” He glanced at his wife. “Your mum needs to rest, especially now we know she’s going to have a baby.” The boys had taken the news well, and Ben was excited at the prospect of having a younger brother or sister, not really understanding the possible complications. Michael though had been warier.
“What if it is a girl, though? I’ve heard the stories. I’m not stupid.”
“We’re working on it,” Megan said, stepping into the room. She walked over and kissed the top of her son’s head. “It’s not your job to worry about me. Uncle Jacob is going to America. They have something that might be able to help. But for now, I’m absolutely fine and not going anywhere.” She looked at Alistair. “Ben’s sound asleep. I’m going to make something for us all to eat. Michael? Could you help me in the kitchen? Maybe we can convince Uncle Drake to make us some of his famous hot chocolate. I’m sure we could all do with some.”
Michael nodded and slid off his father’s lap. He tucked his hand into Megan’s and walked with her down the hall. Alistair watched them leave, relaxing into his chair.
Outside, the wind howled like a pack of wolves baying at a full moon. Balls of ice pelted onto the ground, threatening to crack the stone. It seemed the weather was as changeable as the pack.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tess sat at the kitchen table with a heavy blanket around her shoulders, and a mug of hot, sweet tea between her hands. For several days, the weather had alternated between snow and rain, leaving the ground thick with m
ud. At least poor Nicholas was being placed in the family tomb, and not in the earth.
Her stomach churned. Zane had been plying her with the same herbal remedies he’d given Megan in order to calm her nerves. They did nothing to stop the nightmares, though. Each time she closed her eyes, she was drowning in the blood of Nathan Trevell, clawing her way through the thick, syrupy liquid, unable to reach the surface.
She’d overheard Zane and Alistair discussing memory magic and the American witches. She’d heard them talk about the potent spell that could either bring back memories hidden in the depths of someone’s mind or destroy them forever. She’d give anything to forget.
A tear slid down her cheek. She tapped her nails on the porcelain mug. She wanted to be free of the bad dreams that haunted her sleep, like the ghosts that roamed the wood-panelled halls.
“Aunty Tess?” Ben sat beside her, gripping a cup of his own. “Are you all right?”
She gave him a fragile smile. “I’m okay, munchkin. Just tired. Enjoying the hot chocolate?”
Ben looked down at his mug and grinned. “Uncle Drake makes the best, but Mum’s is okay.”
Tess huffed a laugh.
Jacob came through the back door, bringing with him the scent of a dying autumn—rotting leaves and smoke. For three days, they’d been doing everything they could to keep the fire burning. Drake and Jacob had taken it in turns to add wood, leaves, and any evidence left behind. They’d tossed on the bloody sheets and gauzes from Nicholas’ room, too.
Bile rose in her throat. She ignored Jacob, refusing to look as he washed his hands and then removed his outer clothes. She could feel his gaze though, drifting over her. They hadn’t said a word to each other since she’d woken. She’d done her best to avoid him completely.
Ben broke the silence. “Uncle Jacob, can I come and help you?”
“Not today.” He took a nasal breath and looked at Tess. “I’m going to America. When you go back to Edinburgh, I’ll be going to Massachusetts.”