by Unknown
Malcolm took a step forward. Callum tensed but held his ground.
“What do you know about it, Callum? Your father sent you away when you were a pup. Ye’ve not been here. Ye wouldn’t know what it’s been like. How bad things had gotten.” Malcolm pointed at the talisman. “And no one knows ye even exist.”
“I know ye killed him, in cold blood. Because ye’re a cold-hearted bastard. And when I kill you, they’ll know who I am and that I’m here to lead them.”
There was a sudden bellow in the hall, a crash at the door. A huge burly, red-headed man came barreling into the room.
“What the hell is all the noise?”
The next few seconds were a blur. Malcolm shifted into wolf form with a speed that was startling. Callum lunged toward him, managing to grab only a handful of gray fur. Malcolm threw his body at the window, shattering the glass and disappearing over the sill. Callum and the red-haired man ran to the window.
“Blast. He’s gone.” The red-haired man leaned dangerously far out of the window, looking from side to side. “He disappeared.” He pulled his bulk back into the room, turning to look at Callum and Aspyn. And then, blushing, he turned back toward the window.
Callum stepped back, turning to Aspyn. Concern and fear were written on his features. “Are ye alright?”
“I am. I’m fine.”
“Here.” Callum reached down, grabbing Aspyn’s jeans. “You might want these.”
Aspyn took them with shaking hands and tugged them on. The man at the window studiously ignored her, casting a sidelong glance at Callum as he spoke. His accent was thick, much thicker than Callum’s. It hit her hard that she really was far from home.
“Boy, I truly am sorry. I had no idea that bastard would get inside. I’d have been up here sooner, but Maureen had me in the basement hauling up ale.”
“It’s not your fault, Fergus. Malcolm’s not like other shifters. I’m the one who should be apologizing, for bringing him here on our coattails.”
Aspyn finished with the snap on her jeans. “What do we do know? Now that he knows where we are?”
“We don’t stay here.”
“We run? Where to?” Another surge of adrenaline ran through her at the thought of another mad dash through the narrow streets of Inverness. But Callum was shaking his head.
“No more running. We go to Malcolm. He’s gone back to the castle no doubt. Give him enough time and he’ll gather others to help. We need to get to him first.” He reached out, setting a hand on her arm. “We go to him.”
“We?”
A hint of a smile pulled at Callum’s mouth. “Aye. You get your way. Ye’re coming with me.”
* * *
“Do you know where you’re going?”
The sun had set and the wind blowing through the broken rear window whipped her hair around her face.
“Aye. Castles don’t move. The McCourt castle has been in the same place…”
“For generations.”
He threw her a glance, unreadable in the dark. “Aye. For generations.”
“So we storm the castle?”
“As you put it, yes. We’ve lost the element of surprise. Malcolm knew we were here. Someone followed us from the airport. When they lost us, he tracked us to Fergus’s, came after us himself. I’m certain he’ll be waiting for us at the castle.”
“So we just go in, guns blazing?”
Callum gave a bitter laugh. “I just wish it wasn’t us going there. This is still my fight…”
“Yeah. I know. Your fight, not mine. I’m a warrior, but it’s not my battle.” She turned to him, poking him in the arm with her index finger. “But I am here and you might as well get used to it. I can take care of myself.”
He was silent on the rest of the drive. With nothing to use as landmarks, Aspyn was hopelessly lost. Dark clouds obscured the moon and the only light was the headlights of the car, cutting across the road, illuminating the grassy verge on either side.
Aspyn lost track of time. It felt as if they’d been driving for hours. Finally Callum pulled the car off the side of the road, parking in a stand of trees.
“There.” He pointed into the small valley that ran parallel to the road. “That’s the castle.”
The clouds had grown thinner and a pale wash of moonlight lit up the valley. Aspyn could just make out a darker shadow along the valley floor, something square, definitely a building.
“It’s built over the river that runs through the valley. There was a mill at one time, when there was a small village over there.” Callum pointed up the valley to a large, flat piece of ground, now just a fallow field. “They ground flour at the castle.”
“And that’s important?”
“Aye. I think that’s where we’ll go in. We might as well try to keep ourselves secret as long as we can.”
“How do you know all this?”
Callum turned to her. In the shadows beneath the trees she caught his smile in the brightening moonlight.
“The internet is a wonderful thing, Aspyn. Ye have to know that.” He nodded toward the castle. “Believe it or not, it’s one of the most historic castles in Scotland, because of where it’s located and how it was built.”
“Don’t tell me the Clan gives guided tours.”
His laughter was low, just audible in the dark. “No. But it’s still been studied.” He turned to her, reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s go.”
* * *
Callum led the way down the hillside, wishing for all the world Aspyn were somewhere else. But she was right beside him, working her way through the heather and gorse, muffling her curses as her clothes caught on brambles.
The clouds had blown over, giving them light to see. And giving them light to be seen by. But Callum hoped if anyone was looking for them, they’d be watching the main entrance to the castle, not the old mill building. He’d pointed out to Aspyn where the river flowed beneath one part of the castle. The mill building was long gone, only huge timber supports still marking the spot where building stood, and where the water wheel would have been turned by the force of the river.
“There.” He pulled her down into a shrub, lips against her ear. “See that door?”
She nodded. There was a small wooden door set into the side of the castle, probably where villagers had come and gone, leaving grain and collecting flour.
“We go in there. Malcolm will be somewhere in the main hall, I would guess, rallying the Clan.”
Callum started to rise, but Aspyn put a hand on his arm and he sank back down. “Wait. Look. There’s no one outside, no guards, nothing. Do you really think he’s gone back to tell them he’s failed in getting rid of you?”
Callum frowned at her in the dark. “What are you saying? That he just went home and is going to do nothing?”
“No. I’m sure he’s doing something, but it doesn’t make sense that he’d announce you were still alive, if what he said before is true, that no one even knows you exist. He’d have a hard time explaining there was a sudden heir to the throne. Killing your father…” She shrugged. “Maybe that he could explain that, or he made it look like an accident. But you? You’re the next McCourt, the next Alpha.”
“So ye think no one knows where he’s been, or what he’s been trying to do? Outside the assassins he sent?”
“Exactly. He sent them all the way to Chicago to track you down. To kill you a long way from home, so no one would know you were dead. He only sent three guys. And he came looking for you here. If he had everyone rallied, ready to fight, he’d have just sat back and waited for you to show up here. There’d be a fight, you’d be outnumbered, and he’d have what he wanted. It would have been a blood bath.”
“So you think we can just walk in through the front door then?”
“No. But I don’t think you’re going to have to fight your way through a pack of wolves to get to Malcolm.”
Callum sat back. What Aspyn said made sense. He’d been reacting to everything that had happen
ed, anticipating the worst, that Malcolm had the Clan against him. Aspyn had taken the time to be logical, to put herself in Malcolm’s place. Malcolm didn’t need to pit the Clan against him, if the Clan didn’t know he existed.
“Aspyn, you’re brilliant.” He reached out, pulled her against him, hugging her hard. She struggled for a moment, then pushed herself away.
“Maybe so. But don’t get ahead of the game. We still have to get in there, and find him.”
“Spoke like a true warrior.” He grinned at her and caught the hint of a smile she gave back.
They made their way to the door. Callum boosted Aspyn up and she managed to pull the door open, pulling herself over the edge of the wooden frame. Callum reached up, grabbed the edge and pulled himself onto the rotting wooden floor.
“No one’s been down here for a long, long time.” Callum looked around. A small window set high in the wall let in a shaft of moonlight. The room was full of broken boxes, rotting machinery and the smell of mice and mold.
“I wish we had a flashlight.”
“Aye. I’m sure the castle has electric lights further on. But I can see well enough in the dark. Just stay behind me, with your hand on my back. I’ll find a way out.”
They walked through the dark hallways, the muffled sound of the river accompanying them. Aspyn’s hand clutched a handful of Callum’s shirt and he could feel the tentative nature of her steps behind him. He tried to put himself in her place and thought she must be terrified, walking blind through a castle filled with shifters. For the hundredth time he wished she could be anywhere but here.
“Hey. I see something.” The pressure of Aspyn’s hand disappeared from his back. He turned, reaching for her, but she was walking toward a door. Beneath was a sliver of yellow light.
“Wait.” He pushed ahead of her, pulling open the door. As he thought, electric lights dotted the hallway, some inside iron scones, some hanging from the ceiling, the wires running along the stone walls.
“Let’s head this way.” He pulled her down the hall.
They went up several narrow flights of stairs, stopping at each arched opening, listening intently. The castle was eerily quiet, almost too quiet.
“How are we going to find him?” Aspyn was right beside him, pressed against his side.
“I should be able to catch his scent, if we can get to an open area. Come on.” He pulled her into a wider hallway. The walls were of nicely fitted stone, hung here and there with tapestries. They’d found the inhabited part of the castle.
They followed the hall as it curved around in a gentle circle. “We’re going around the central tower. The main hall is in that tower. I’d be my life Malcolm’s down there.”
“And if ye did, you’d be dead.”
Callum spun around. Malcolm was standing behind them in the hall. Callum stepped in front of Aspyn, pushing her behind him.
“Then again, pup, ye’ll be dead anyway. I’ve no time to be dealing with children and fools.”
“Are ye planning to fight me alone then, Malcolm?” Callum took a step forward. He could feel Aspyn behind him, moving with him. He wanted to tell her to stay back, to run, but he couldn’t dare take his eyes off of Malcolm.
“I’m planning to kill ye, boy. There may be a fight, but the outcome will still be the same.”
Before Callum could react, Malcolm lunged at him, swinging hard. The blow caught Callum on the chin and he staggered back. Malcolm kept charging like a bull, but Callum ducked the next swing. The momentum carried Malcolm forward and Callum spun away, and Malcolm crashed into the wall.
But in doing so he put Aspyn directly in Malcolm’s path. The instant he realized he put her in danger, Callum made the decision to shift. He couldn’t fight Malcolm in human form and protect Aspyn at the same time.
He’d also have to trust Aspyn to take care of herself for the time it took to shift. She was already backing down the hall. Malcolm was on his feet, head turning between Aspyn and Callum. His eyes narrowed as he watched Callum begin to shift.
The power rose in Callum, stronger than anything he’d ever felt, as if he were pulling that power from the stone walls that surrounded him. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, threw back his head and roared. The pain that flashed through his body was intense, and for a blinding hot instant he was engulfed by it.
When he threw himself forward, it was as a wolf. He landed on all four paws. Malcolm was still standing against the wall, watching him, lips pulled back from his teeth.
Callum took a step toward Malcolm, hackles raised, fangs bared. He could see waves of anger rolling off the older man. And beneath that, Callum caught the faint scent of the man’s fear. It emboldened Callum and he growled, walking forward.
But before he could reach Malcolm, the man pushed away from the wall, reached out, grabbing Aspyn by the arm. He pulled her against him, wrapping his thick arms around her body, using her as a shield. Callum stopped, a low whine coming from him.
“Thought the girl might be important to ye. She’s a fighter, but she’s still a wee girl.”
Callum watched helplessly as Malcolm held Aspyn. It was at that moment Malcolm started to shift. His arms grew distended, his face contorting as his teeth grew, as his jaw pushed forward.
Aspyn’s eyes were fixed on Callum and he wanted more than anything to tell her…something, anything…that things would be fine. But he couldn’t, and he wasn’t sure right now they would be. He’d have sacrificed himself then and there to Malcolm, to make sure Aspyn was safe.
But Malcolm was going to have to let Aspyn go as he finished shifting. It would be Callum’s only chance to get between her and Malcolm. He waited, watching, trying to convey to Aspyn that there would be a moment where she could run.
Malcolm’s arms and legs were no longer human, and his legs buckled as the wolf in him took over. Aspyn’s eyes went wide and Callum took another step forward.
The next few seconds were confusion. Malcolm still held Aspyn in an awkward hug as he fell forward. She raised one arm to break her fall and as she did, Malcolm twisted his body, biting down hard on her arm.
Aspyn’s scream sent a wave of fury through Callum. He jumped, slamming into Malcolm’s body, pushing him away from Aspyn. For a brief instant, Callum heard the sound of tearing flesh as Malcolm’s teeth ripped at Aspyn’s arm. Her scream was in his ear as Callum shoved her away with his hindquarters, catching a brief glimpse of her scrambling away down the hall. The scent of her blood was in his head and it drove him mad.
Callum gained his feet, jumping away from Malcolm’s snapping jaws. Callum was blind with rage and hatred, for what this man had done to his father, and now to Aspyn. Without hesitation he dropped onto Malcolm’s body, sinking his teeth into whatever part of the wolf he could, tearing at its flesh, twisting and jerking.
Callum’s mouth filled with Malcolm’s blood and the moment he tasted it, he wanted more. He wanted to drink the man’s blood until there was none left.
Malcolm was struggling beneath him, claws scrabbling on the stone floor. But he couldn’t gain his feet and Callum pressed his advantage. He drove forward with his back legs, flipping Malcolm onto his back, biting down hard on Malcolm’s throat.
There was an explosion of blood in his mouth, slicing through the air, filling his eyes. He closed them against the warm spray. And he held on, bit down and refused to let go. He could feel Malcolm’s claws tearing at him, ripping the tender skin of his belly. But he held on.
“Callum…”
Aspyn’s voice was close, too close. She was in danger if Malcolm got away.
“Callum…stop. Let go. It’s over.”
Callum opened his eyes. Malcolm lay still beneath. He let go of the limp body and took a step back. He saw what he’d done, that he’d killed Malcolm.
“Come on. You need to do that thing…change yourself back. There are others here, I can hear them. You need to be able to explain…”
As her words finally reached him, he realized what she was
saying. His Clan, the members of his pack. They were here and they’d find him here with Malcolm’s body. He sat back abruptly, the rage and fury draining away.
He closed his eyes, let himself go limp, let his body shift. When he opened his eyes again, Aspyn was there, smiling at him. She was holding her arm and when he saw the blood, it came back to him.
She’d been bitten.
But before he could even articulate the thoughts in his head, voices came to them from around the curve of the hall. Callum stood. Aspyn held out one of the tapestries from the wall and he frowned at her.
“You know, since you don’t have any clothes on.” She glanced down at him, then averted her eyes. He thought she was blushing and he fought back a grin.
“Aye, so I am. Thank ye.” He took the tapestry and wrapped it around his waist.
“We best go meet them and begin the explaining. I having a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
He took her hand and they stepped over Malcolm’s body, walking toward the voices.
* * *
Aspyn sat in the back of the hall, watching Callum, holding a towel against her injured arm. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound hurt like hell, more than hurt. There was a strange burning sensation she’d couldn’t really put her finger on, other than she was pretty sure this wasn’t how wounds were supposed to feel. Then again, she’d never been bitten by a werewolf before. And she’s sure as hell never treated a werewolf bite. She’d never studied this in nursing school. But she really didn’t care, as long as the bleeding diminished, and she and Callum were alive.
Callum had been talking to the Clan members gathered there for over an hour. They’d started out confused, angry, occasionally appearing on the verge of tearing him limb from limb.
But he’d been calm, he’d answered their questions. He was reassuring and commanding at the same time. Gradually they’d calmed down. By the time they’d filed out of the hall, their angry murmurs had settled into lowered tones of grudging acceptance.
Callum sank onto a wooden bench, rubbing his temples with his fingers. Aspyn walked the length of the hall, sitting down beside him.