9. Malcolms Return
Malcolm's Return
Malcolm
“ T he stop ahead is for us," he said as he reached for the cord hanging down. Grabbing it tightly, he pulled it down.
“Oh, shit.” Eliza fell against him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He could feel the press of her chest against his back, and he bit back a curse. He’d been doing so well so far, but the sensation of her curves against his back had him imagining all sorts of things once more.
He couldn’t ruin his chances now; she’d just told him about what had happened to her, finally opening up to him in the very way he’d been patiently waiting for. He tightened his reins on his wild wolf and patiently waited for her to take a step back, but instead of letting go of him, she leaned around him and exclaimed loudly.
“That’s a freaking compound.” She looked up at him. “You own a small-sized city.”
He glanced over her shoulder to see what she was seeing. At first, there was nothing but land over 100 acres. There were three main buildings that faced the castle in the center of the land; when he’d last been there, there had been two, but the clan must have expanded once more. Several houses were built facing the three main buildings, and a large space rested between the houses and the farmland. There were three schools as well. All in all, it looked like a small city.
He couldn’t help laughing: “It’s not mine, remember?” He moved into the aisle so that she was forced to let go of him. “Come, we need to get our bags. Someone is supposed to meet us.”
Scabbling, she grabbed her thick coat up and pulled it on. “Coming,” she said as she chased after him.
Together, they got off the train; the stop on McLeran land was nothing like the stop in Nashville. The modern conveniences were nowhere to be found. The only thing there was a single sign that read “McLeran.” One would think they’d been dropped in the middle of nowhere. Malcolm frowned; nothing had changed since he’d last been here. Malcolm wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
“Wow, this place definitely feels like something out of a fantasy novel,” Eliza said as she watched the attendants settle their bags on the dirt road before alighting the train. Her eyes were focused on the clear blue sky and the wisp of white clouds that drifted over her head. She placed her hands on her hip, staring at the tall trees. “I just can never get over how there are these swaths of land that are invisible to the rest of the world.” She released a whistle, side-eyeing Malcolm. “How long have your people owned this land?”
“We settled here a little after the US won its independence,” Malcolm said, grabbing his bags and reluctantly allowing her to take hers. We weren’t a large clan then, but we have grown since as we integrated others into our pack before the Great Split.”
“The great split,” she asked, lifting her duffel and settling it on her shoulders. “That is what?”
He glanced at her before facing forward. “Werewolves, Lykans, and shifters, we’re similar but different in our own ways, but the council labeled us all under the “beast’ title, and for a brief time, we were treated as such. Hunted even.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Why am I not shocked,” Eliza said as she approached his side. “The council seems to enjoy fucking people over. Ready?”
He gave a short nod, and together, they made their way along the well-beaten path that was marred by a few tire tracks. As they walked, Malcolm couldn’t stop the feeling of nostalgia as he remembered running up this path as a child. There were better paths, but this one was the closest to the tracks and was more well known by everyone in the clan. The main entrance was connected to the City of Clarksville; the average human would just see swaths of farmland and a few barns, nothing of notice.
He took a deep breath, catching the hint of roasting corn in the air. It was a bitter pill to realize that even when he’d turned his back on his home, it still had a place in his heart. He glanced down at Eliza, trying to fill that hole with her presence.
The urge to claim her was riding him hard, but so far he was able to hold back. It wasn’t the right time to be focusing on claiming his mate. Especially since he’d been sent here to investigate the case Tiller had given him. Young werewolves between the ages of late teens and early twenties, which made sense, as their kind usually grew restless and spent more and more time in the human world around that age.
This would make them easy bait, and with the possibility of them being attacked and kidnapped by their own kind, it wasn’t hard to believe someone on the inside was doing the dirty work. He mentally sighed; Alek had indeed been right when he said there was something wrong. Still, the idea of taking the reins of the clan…He let that idea trail off; he wasn’t interested.
“Is that the person you were supposed to meet?” Eliza suddenly asked.
The slightly stunned quality of her voice forced him to look up at a bright red Ford truck rumbling down the road toward them. He lifted his arm, gently maneuvering Eliza over.
Eliza reached up and tapped the edge of her hat. Instead of holding a pale hand, Malcolm lifted a hand of brown skin with no writing. He glanced at her; she averted her eyes. “I can’t use it for a long time, but long enough that it won’t startle anyone who sees me.”
He observed her before giving a short nod just as the truck stopped before them. Turning his attention to the truck he watched as the driver side window rolled down. “Well, if it isn’t my nephew.”
“Uncle Robert?” he said in surprise. “I thought you?—”
“Left this piece of junk land.” Robert sighed, brushing the long mass of his curly black hair back. He squinted his green eyes in amusement, and added with breezy air. “Well, many things changed around here after you left.”
Malcolm wasn’t sure what to think about Robert’s words; he’d expected either a lukewarm or hostile meeting, not his uncle, who’d tossed away the title of Alpha all those years ago. “I—yes.”
Robert turned his attention to Eliza. “I see you brought a friend.” He offered her a friendly smile. “I wasn’t sure who the council would be sending after I sent my complaint, but it’s a good thing it’s you, Malcolm,” he said, returning his attention to him. “At least you understand our ways.”
He motioned to the back of his truck. “Go ahead and throw your things in the back, and then we’ll head back to the compound.”
Still lost in his thoughts, Malcolm gave a short nod and, together with Eliza, threw his items in the back of the truck before they both got in. Eliza in the backseat and Malcolm in the front. Soon they were driving back through the forest.
“How long?” Malcolm asked his uncle.
Robert made a turn, keeping his eyes on the road, and he said instead of answering. “I know your sister wrote you for five years, but you never answered.”
Malcolm looked away.
Robert glanced at him before focusing back on the road. “Did you not read them?”
“I didn’t want to know anything,” Malcolm freely admitted. “I didn’t want to know how anyone was doing, and a part of me hated the idea of everyone living normal lives after I left.”
Robert clicked his tongue, “Well it doesn’t look like you stopped being blunt.” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, “I’ll rip the band aid off, and tell you, your father’s dead.”
“What?” Malcolm whipped his eyes toward his uncle's grim expression, “How?”
“The sickness from losing your mate is inevitable One of your fathers greatest fears was that he’d just drop dead after your mother left, and apparently, it came sooner than he thought it would; when I came back to fill in for him, I looked into your mother, and as I suspected, she’d died the same day.”
Malcolm breathed harshly through his nose as he narrowed his eyes on his lap. A part of him should feel sad; he should wish that his father had lived, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, at how little he felt at his father’s passing. The resentment and hate he’d always had against his father had been fostered by more than just his betrayal all those years ago.
First, his mother had packed her bags and walked out, leaving him and his sister in his father’s hands. To this day, he couldn’t truly ever understand what made her leave; despite the bite mark on her neck, his mother had turned her back on her heritage and her husband. His father had turned to drinking and playing ass kisser to the other elders.
Going so far as to drug his own son so that he couldn’t participate in the a-sgeithe festival, where he’d fight for the right to lead the wolves in their territory. He could still feel the prickle unease in his soul when he recalled waking later than the others to find he’d not only missed the challenge but that the Alpha had been chosen. It was the single man who’d made it clear he’d make his life miserable if he ever became their people leader.
His sister.
He squeezed his eyes closed. “Where is he buried?”
“He was buried next to your Mother; her body was brought here,” Robert answered easily. “It’s a shame, really. I used to think your father would be different from our own father, but it looks like family curses are hard to break.”
“But you did,” Malcolm said, looking out of the window at the passing scenery.
Eliza
She felt weird listening in on Malcolm’s conversation with his uncle. So, she focused on watching the passing scenery, and soon, she could barely hear what they said. She found herself falling into its beauty.
When she’d first awoken, she had been disoriented and could barely remember her own name, but as more and more time passed, she could remember more of her past experiences. The disturbing sensation of her hand hitting something fleshy and the sound of cheers around her.
She closed her eyes, mentally seeing the flashing lights. She shivered, remembering the times she’d felt her soul slipping through her fingers as she wrestled with keeping it tight to her chest.
The voice in her head often sounded like someone else, but sometimes, she just thought she was crazy. What if she was just insane, and when the curtain dropped, she’d be curled up in the corner of a cell, watching people being dragged to their doom?
She pressed her hand to her chest and felt the warm buzz of her heart. The Magic that rolled through her always felt like an eager child, shy at first but eventually becoming eager to escape its confines.
She pressed a hand to her cheek; her skin felt warm. The body stitched together like a ragtag doll was still warm. She could only be grateful she still had her face, and they hadn’t swapped her head out for being inadequate.
She exhaled and forced her eyes open in time to see the high gates of the compound. Something about the white picket fence made her nervousness settle. She had some time to breathe and readjust, and then she’d start her plan on gaining revenge for those who couldn’t fight now and had been silenced by death.
The urge to act now hit her hard, but the reality of her current situation was that she should take her time and recover bit by bit, even if she was no longer really herself. She looked at her hand, which was brown before it flickered and turned pale.
To be torn apart and put back together like a doll for a man’s pleasure. There was something poetic in his destruction of her. A very, very fucked up poeticism.
She would never forget the look in his eyes as he walked around her poking and prodding, his expression so pleased as he smiled at her before he frowned and said. “I wonder how much Magic energy it would take to improve her IQ?”
She’d felt a visceral fear that he’d carve out her brain, along with what was left of her identity. She flexed her palm; this was her hand, and yet not.
The familiar sense of panic hit her, the feeling of being a stranger in her skin. Her throat tightened, causing her to have a shortness of breath.
Who was she?
The hand before her, in her mind’s eye, briefly altered to a clawed weapon, blood slid down her arm to the pool of it at her feet as she stared numbly at another specimen who’d been altered and yet still couldn’t defeat her. Her ears were filled with the choking sounds of her enemy as they attempted to breathe through the tear in their throat.
“Eliza?”
She abruptly dropped her hand and looked up, meeting troubled green eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely on them and the person who owned them. How he looked at her was far more intense than anyone had ever done before, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable; it made her feel like he sincerely saw her.
“Yes?” She shifted in the seat; the part of her who’d always feared being truly seen felt a weary comfort from it.
He turned a bit to face her more and reached a handout toward her, placing it on her knee. “Are you okay?”
She glanced down at where his hand landed on her knee and felt the heat radiating off him. His hand was broad and strong with fingers that were long and well-proportioned with pronounced knuckles. She looked at him and offered him a small smile. Malcolm's gentle touch reminded her that he was not only a Jackal but that he’d taken a risk bringing her with him.
“Yes, just got lost in thought.” She leaned forward, looking ahead. “Is that the place?”
He nodded, turning to face forward and removing his hand from her knee. She wanted to sigh in relief, her heart in her throat. The way she came alive when he touched her, she couldn’t get used to it. She needed to focus.
“It looks like a lot has changed,” Malcolm said as they passed under the high gate that read, “McLaren Land.”
“Well, it’s all thanks to our Alpha, though he’s only agreed to hold the position till the next a-sgeithe festival.” Robert explained as he turned down a street towards what looked like a few houses that hadn’t been finished. “He’s been pushing for the clan to use more modern technology and integrate it into our daily lives. The old ways are all good, but if you want our people to live well truly, they should be able to easily live and exist between this world and the human one.”
Malcolm scoffed. “I’m sure the Elders weren’t happy to hear that.”
“Who cares if they liked it or not,” Robert said, his tone holding a note that caused Eliza to look at him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something in how Malcolm’s uncle spoke felt like he had power over the Elders.
“Here we are,” Robert declared as they stopped at what looked like a cabin. Leaning over, he opened the truck dashboard. He reached inside, pulled out a key, and held it out for Malcolm. “Make yourselves at home, and then come to the meeting hall. We eat dinner together, well, most of us.”
Malcolm took the key and opened his door. “What time?”’
“Seven.”
“Okay, we’ll be there,” Malcolm said as he got out and opened the door for Eliza; he reached in and helped her out. She wanted to tell him she could leave alone, but he’d already grabbed her up by her waist and helped her down. Causing them to be close enough that she could feel the beat of his heart.
“Ah, sorry,” she said when she realized she’d stepped on his foot.
He took a step back, quickly dropping his hands from her. “Don’t worry about it,” he offered her a cheeky grin as he made his way to the back to grab their bags. He handed her just her duffel bag. Eliza focused her gaze on her feet rather than on him as he said a few more things to Robert before the man drove off.
She looked up when she heard him walking towards her. When she met his gaze, she smiled softly. “I’m surprised that you were okay talking about your family so openly.”
He shrugged as he walked past her towards the door. “What’s the point of hiding it? I wouldn’t be a Jackal if I didn’t have a story to tell.”
She followed him. “That’s true. Not many in Veil City have led a perfectly charmed life—at least no one I’ve met.”
He placed their two suitcases down. “I can say the same thing; none of the men who work for Tiller had easy lives.” He straightened, pulled the key from his back pocket, and opened the door. “It’s not really like I can hide it when we’re here.” He half-turned. “Plus, I don’t want to hide things from you.”
Taken aback by his words, she stared at him blankly. He didn’t want to hide anything from her. She frowned, oddly comforted by his words but still confused. She’d only known him for what, a week, it felt like he was putting too much trust in her.
“You shouldn’t trust anyone too much,” she said, her past dictating her words more than anything. “Those closest to you are the most likely to betray you, even when they themselves know it’s wrong.”
“Well, then I’ll just take the knife to the back and see it as my fate, " he answered, his eyes darkening as he grabbed the suitcases and entered the cabin.
She stared after him, wincing at the sharp pain that stirred up suddenly in her chest; she pressed a hand against it.
“Yesh, I guess it’s fate.”
She lowered her hand and followed him inside.