“But I could only fight it for so long. The first time you change... There’s nothing can prepare you for the pain and trauma of the transformation. Nothing that can prepare you to handle the overpowering animal instinct. The blood lust. Everything blurs. Everything fades away under that kind of pressure.”
“What happened?” She knew for sure that he was building up to something.
His dark eyes fixed on her, suddenly strong, challenging almost.
“I killed a man,” he said.
§
She understood immediately. It was like all the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle suddenly falling into place.
The man he had killed: Jonathan Carr’s father, that night when they had been attacked by “a man and his dog”.
I killed a man.
It was one of those moments when either you walk away or... you do the exact opposite.
And either way you are committed.
She reached for him again, found the back of his neck with her hand. Did that thing where she stroked his hair with her thumb. Drew him slightly towards her, but he resisted, still fixing her with those dark eyes.
That was when she realized it was exactly that kind of pivotal moment for him too: he had exposed himself, exposed her to the madness of his world. If he succumbed to her, he would be drawing her ever deeper. Suddenly she was scared that some noble part of his psyche was retreating, considering protecting her from all this.
She gave a slight shake of the head, a Don’t even think about it look. This time, he allowed himself to be drawn into her embrace once again.
And only now... only now did she understand that she was thinking in terms of Billy’s logic, Billy’s world.
She believed him.
If he could... change... and if he had killed a man, then it made perfect sense that it had been Carr senior he had killed.
“That night,” he said, as if he had realized that one of them needed to at least say something, “I hadnae been out poaching. That was just what I told people to explain why I was out. I’d been out with Mr Carr and Jonathan. He’d hired me as a ghillie. Said he wanted me to teach his boy how to stalk the red deer up on the hills. I’d done it before, but this time was different.”
“Different? Why?”
“Earlier that day, he made an excuse to talk to me, said he wanted to discuss where we’d be stalking later. Wanted to be sure the lad would get the best experience, he said. That was when... when he tried, you know?”
She knew. She didn’t need the details to understand what Billy was telling her. She held him tighter, just briefly.
The tension in his body was tangible, his whole frame stiff, unyielding.
“So why did you go back after that? Why did you still go out with them after what he tried?”
She thought he was going to pull away, but it was a great shudder that tore through him then, and he stayed in her arms.
“I was a lad,” he said. “And he was the rich southerner. You doubt everything. Immediately. He just carries on as if nothing has happened and you question your own memory, your own experience. How can he carry on like that if anything really had happened? And how do you explain not showing up if you’re even questioning your own memory of things? So I showed up, I took them up Beinn Madadh, showed them how to track the deer, how to approach from downwind, how to keep out of the line of sight. And all the time... he had a smile, you know? He knew he owned me; he could get away with anything. He was a monster, he really was.”
He pulled away again, and this time she let him. He looked at her now. “I know the irony of that. The word. But if anyone’s a monster, it’s a man like Mr Carr.”
She wasn’t going to argue with that. Her own father was a monster of a different ilk, but a monster nonetheless. One she’d spent her whole adult life trying to leave behind.
“So... so what happened?”
“I couldn’t take any more of his smug arrogance. The way he would put his arm around Jonathan’s shoulders and smile at me. He was bragging. Bullying. I felt something building up inside me, a balloon about to burst. I didn’t understand. I thought it was just anger. Rage, like I’d never felt before. I knew I couldnae stay with them, so I left them as we were walking back down to the village. Just ran, and ran. And that’s when it happened. I felt so free. I could feel that rage transforming within me into something else, something new. Even then, I didnae realize it was any more than anger. Then a pain unlike anything I’d ever felt tore right through me and I fell over, couldnae get up as more pain ripped through me.
“I thought I was dying. Thought I’d been struck down. Thought I’d been shot. Thought I was on fire. All kinds of mad thoughts. I forgot everything. There was only that absolute agony. My body was being torn apart. Literally. And then... release. Freedom. Strength.”
He was shaking. She tried to calm him, but he flinched at her touch.
“I’m no’ proud,” he said. “No matter how bad a man he was, I’m no’ proud.”
This time, he let her hand lie on his back, between the shoulder blades.
“I don’t even remember what happened next. Not the detail. I remember the frenzy. The blood lust. I remember backing away into the undergrowth, stopping myself from killing the lad too. Then later, when I’d found my clothes and returned, found Jonathan and led him away. He was just so grateful I’d come back, that I’d scared away ‘the beast’. I convinced him there had been no beast, just a man and his dog, an’ that’s what we told the police.”
She didn’t know where her head was.
What to believe.
She drew his head into her chest once more, unsure whether she was holding a dangerously psychotic killer, or some other kind of monster altogether.
And all she wanted was to hold him.
25
He made her coffee, and tea for himself.
Sitting on hard plastic chairs in the lab’s small kitchen, the sudden normality of it all was disconcerting. She cradled her cup, enjoying the warmth after the chill dampness outside. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a good cup of coffee, and this at least came close.
She didn’t know what to say. Even as the silence drew out between them, her mind was a blank. She needed words. Needed to understand whether to continue to explore this traumatic sequence of events, or to switch topics, find something neutral.
She was saved by a buzzing in the back pocket of her jeans.
She fumbled, still wearing the waxed coat, which made it hard to get to the pocket.
When she withdrew her cell phone she stared at the screen.
She hadn’t had a call from that number in a long, long time.
She almost didn’t answer. Then, just as she had decided to press Accept she thought she had left it too long and the caller must have rung off or the phone had switched to voicemail.
She moved the phone to her ear, heard only silence, a slight crackle. She felt a surge of relief. She had tried to answer. It wasn’t her fault that she had been too late.
Then she heard another sound, a word starting then cutting off abruptly.
“Mom?” she said.
Silence again, then another broken word.
“Mom? The line’s bad. The connection’s no good. Mom, are you still there?”
Billy watched her as she stood, raised a hand apologetically towards him and stepped outside, back into the dreich wet day.
“Mom?”
More silence. Had she lost the connection?
Then: “Jennifer. It’s your mom.”
Jenny fought back the frustration. Talking with her mother was never easy.
“Mom, the line’s bad. Can you hear me?”
“You don’t have to shout, Jennifer.”
She bit back on a retort. When was the last time they’d spoken? She couldn’t actually remember, but it must be closer to two years than one. She knew she should feel guilty, but... she had tried. For years she had tried. But always her mother had stood by her man, whateve
r he did. She’d stood there when he struck Jenny that one time, watched Jenny fight back, turn to her, the silent demand: make a choice. Her mother had chosen to stay, just as she always did.
If Carr’s father had been a monster, Jenny’s was too, and her mother had chosen him over her.
So she was not going to be made to feel guilty all over again.
She glanced across, saw Billy studying her through the window. She tried to give a reassuring smile and almost missed the next words.
“It’s your pop, Jennifer. He’s dying. He doesn’t have long.”
She saw him then, as she’d last seen him. The mid-blue suit, expensive but tailored to a larger frame; the skinny tie pulled tight; the silver hair, thinner than she had remembered it. The pallor, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way he held himself... she’d thought he was nervous, as he damn well should have been, but had he been ill even then? Did that explain his sudden appearance outside the courthouse?
What was the last thing she’d said to him? “No. Just no.”
She didn’t know what to say, what her mom wanted. “Are you okay?” she said, finally.
“He wants to see you. He wants to talk to you.”
Her heart was thumping. “Put him on,” she said.
“No. Here. He wants to see you. He can’t talk, Jennifer. The cancer’s gone too far.”
Her father had been a militant smoker. Forty a day. Always a cigarette lodged between his fingers.
“I’m in Scotland.”
“I know. He doesn’t have long. Come back, Jennifer. For me.”
Oh, she always had known how to play that old guilt thing!
“I’ll be back next week.”
“He might not have that long.”
And I might not want to see him.
She looked up. Billy was standing in the doorway. He must have seen that something was wrong.
“I might not be able to rearrange my flight.”
“I’ll pay for your flight.”
They both knew it wasn’t the money, or the logistics, but now her mother had made it into a selfish thing on Jenny’s part.
“I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
The line went dead. No goodbyes. No Love you. Just Okay.
That was probably the longest exchange she’d had with her mother since she’d left Maldon five years ago.
§
“Do you think he was trying to apologize? That day at the courthouse.”
The two were walking back along the trail to the castle, the view across to Beinn Madadh to the right. The rain had lifted now, and there was a freshness to the air, a few clefts of blue in the gray of the sky.
“I spoke to him after you left,” said Billy. “He didn’t seem to have much apology about him. You think it’s true?”
She hadn’t even considered the possibility that her mother had been lying. Her father was a violent beast, and her mother his complicit victim, but there was no reason for them to lie about something like this. She remembered the look on his face that day as she dismissed him and turned away. There had been something different. He had known that day, she was sure – this illness was not new.
So why wait until now to call her?
That was probably not a fair question. He’d tried to see her that day in Maldon, and she’d made her feelings quite clear. And now... her mother could only have called because there was little time left.
The man was a brute, and her mother had always chosen him over Jenny even so. So why did she feel so guilty?
“You don’t have to forgive him just because he’s dying.”
She gave him a sharp look.
“Have you forgiven your pop for not preparing you for... for what you are?” She still couldn’t believe she was saying such things out loud. She no longer knew what she believed. It was all too much.
He paused, appearing to give her challenge serious thought.
“I have, I suppose.”
“Because at some point we do end up forgiving,” she said.
“Have you reached that point?”
She didn’t know.
He reached for her, put a hand on her arm and turned her to face him.
She looked up into his eyes, heart pounding once again. How did he do that? Stir that kind of immediate response in her?
“Stay here,” he said, his voice gruff with passion. “With me. You don’t have to work for Carr. Neither do I. We could make a life for ourselves.”
“I have a life back home,” she said, although they both knew she had few ties. “I can’t just drop everything.”
Suddenly she was in his arms, drawn into his embrace, folding into his body.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
She didn’t know why he would, and she didn’t know what she felt in return, only that it was unlike anything she’d known before, and that it scared and thrilled her in equal measure.
26
Back in her room at Craigellen Castle, she tried to think, but she didn’t even know where to start.
All the mad things Billy had told her.
That strange realization that she had found herself actually accepting some of them, thinking things through in terms of what he had claimed. Like accepting he had killed Carr’s father, but you could only do that if you accepted that he was a werewolf...
Those three words he had said: I love you. He had offered her a life, here with him. It was stupid. She had a return flight booked next week. A life of her own back home. But she also knew that if anyone was in a position to up sticks and give something a chance then it was her.
And then... The call from her mom.
Her father: dying. Cancer.
Might seeing him offer some form of closure? Or was it merely one last selfish act on his part? Play on her feelings of guilt to haul her back on best behavior; buy himself some kind of peace of mind before the end. He might not even understand that was what he was doing, but the man was a natural born manipulator: he didn’t have to think about it for that to be his default behavior.
So she sat in one of the wing-backed chairs at the window of her tower room, losing herself in the play of light on green, the deep shade of the forest, the emerald carpet of grass. Sunlight angled through gaps in the clouds, and the grass glistened with damp cobwebs. This really was a beautiful part of the world.
There were people down there, where the trail led through the trees to the laboratory building. She recognized Dougie Walters, the estate manager, and Aileen. They were pointing, gesturing, Walters talking animatedly into a cell phone.
She saw Billy, then, hurrying across to join them.
Something was up. There was an urgency to the way they moved and spoke.
As if to confirm her interpretation, one of the estate’s Land Rovers swept up and pulled over on the grass. Immediately behind it, a white car with a yellow and blue checkerboard pattern on its flanks followed through, passing the Land Rover and then pulling up, too. What were the police doing here?
Jenny was torn between hurrying downstairs and out to get close to the action, and remaining here with her grandstand view. She stood, moved to the window and took a couple of pictures on her cell phone. An officer in dark blue uniform with a peaked cap climbed out of the passenger seat and spoke to Walters.
More pointing, gesturing towards the trees.
Another police car pulled up, this one a big SUV. Two more officers emerged.
And another car! This one silver, unmarked, and the two men who climbed out wore dark gray suits.
That was a big show of force for somewhere so remote...
Just then, Walters put an arm around Aileen’s shoulders and drew her in towards him. The woman appeared to be crying.
Something bad had happened.
Jenny pulled her borrowed riding boots back on, grabbed the waxed coat, and hurried down.
§
The look on Billy’s face did nothing to r
eassure her that she’d been wrong, that this was just some bizarre Scottish gathering.
He spread his arms and she naturally stepped into his embrace.
“It’s bad,” he said softly. “One of the gardeners found something. A body.”
A body?
“Who?” she asked. “Where?”
Her mind raced. Who was missing? Where was Carr?
The moment she had that thought, Walters said something and she heard Carr’s voice. “Dougie, what is it? Billy? Aileen?”
She glanced back, and saw Carr approaching the small gathering.
One of the plain clothes detectives stepped towards him. “Mr Carr,” he said. “I’m afraid there’s been... some kind of an incident. A body. I’m going to have to ask you all to remain here while we cordon the area off.”
“A body? Who? Who have you found?”
“I’m afraid we have to await official identification, Mr Carr.”
“Lilian,” said Billy, over the top of Jenny’s head. “It’s Lilian Lee they’ve found.”
§
Lilian Lee.
Some kind of an incident... There wouldn’t be this kind of police presence if the Canadian scientist had just had a heart attack, or choked on a fishbone or something.
Jenny stepped back out of Billy’s embrace, telling herself it was because she had suddenly become self-conscious, and not for any other reason.
She looked at Carr. His face had gone a deathly pale, his mouth slightly open, as if his jaw had sagged. “Lilian?” he said, finally. “What’s happened? Has she had an accident?”
Maybe that was it. Maybe she’d crashed one of those ATVs.
Billy cut off the shake of his head almost as soon as it started, but Jenny saw it nonetheless. No accident. Then what?
“What?” snapped Carr. “What are you saying, Billy?”
“One of the gardeners found her,” said Billy. “It was bad. It looked like she’d been attacked.”
Jenny studied his features closely as he spoke. Tried to read him.
“An animal, we think. Winston’s up at the lab now, checking on the wolves just to be sure. But I was there this morning with Miss Layne: there aren’t any missing, and the enclosure’s secure.”
Jenny glanced up at the little tower where she had a room. Remembered standing up there at the window last night, having woken alone. Looking out and seeing a shape, a wolf. That was me, Billy had told her, shortly before going on to tell her he had once killed a man.
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