Scratch the Surface (Wolf Within)

by Amy Lee Burgess

  Murphy was my shadow, a second skin, doggedly trailing me, breath pluming white as he struggled to breathe the frigid air.

  A siren wailed a few streets to the south. Ambulance? Police? For a terrible moment I thought the whole world knew I was a murderer and the police were out to arrest me. Put me behind bars where I would surely die. I didn’t want to be confined. I didn’t want to be trapped or muzzled or chained. I wanted to be free.

  I wrapped my arms around my head and tried to block out the sound of the siren. Idiotically I thought if I couldn’t hear it, they couldn’t find me.

  “Stanzie.” Murphy’s gloved fingers touched my arm. He didn’t grab or restrain me, but still I whipped my arm away from him.

  “Where are we going?” he asked me, letting his hand drop to his side. His black pea coat was dusted with snow and the ends of his gray scarf fluttered grimly in the winter wind.

  He’d worn that same scarf the day we’d gone to the Eiffel Tower. We’d sat together on one of the wooden benches, shoulders brushing, as we read file after file filled with deaths and accidents that had befallen young members of the Great Pack. This was before we’d known about the conspiracy.

  Snow sifted down into his eyes and he wiped it away with his gloved hand.

  I took that opportunity to start walking again without answering him because I didn’t know where we were going. If he’d asked me two weeks ago I would have thought I’d known but today, right now, in the middle of a snowstorm, I had no fucking clue.

  A bus shelter loomed ahead out of the snowflakes. The buses weren’t running of course, so there was nobody there.

  The bench inside was scratched full of graffiti. The remains of someone’s lunch lurked beneath it along with hard lumps of frozen gum.

  Graffiti and scratches made by bored kids with nothing to do while they waited gouged the plastic windows.

  An empty condom wrapper was stuck to a piece of gum and pressed to the back window. It was an odd statement but a deliberate one. Who in the hell would try to have sex in these temperatures? But then again, an empty condom wrapper did not prove there’d been sex.

  Why did I have to think such stupid nonsense anyway? Maybe my guilt was destroying my goddamn sanity.

  My feet were blocks of ice attached to my ankles. I sat on the bench before I fell. Beneath my wet jeans, my skin crawled with clammy goose bumps. My cheeks burned and a dull ache made my head throb. Even my goddamn earlobes hurt.

  Murphy sat next to me, his hands jammed into his pockets. He shuddered against the wind, which tried its damndest to get inside the shelter, and partially succeeded too.

  “If you want to take the bus, I think we’ve got a long wait,” he predicted and I ignored him. I wondered if Grey and I had ever waited for the bus at this particular stop and concluded we had not. There were more places in the world where we hadn’t been than where we had. This was just one of them.

  We sat there in icy silence.

  A snowplow scraped past, lights flashing yellow and white, muted through the plastic but enough to make me shut my eyes until it was past.

  I stole a look at Murphy, at the way he sat so patient and still.

  “Thank you,” I said, making him startle upright on the bench. I grimaced. “I know I’m being terrible. I can’t seem to help it, and I know that’s no excuse, is it?”

  His eyes were very dark as he turned his face to stare at me. For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to say anything but then he did. “Stanzie, I swear to you on the Great Pack, on my ancestors, on everything that I hold most dear and sacred, I had nothing to do with Sorcha’s death. Nothing. And the only involvement I have with the conspiracy is trying to end it.”

  I could smell his sincerity and beneath that, his fear. Fear of what? That I wouldn’t believe him or that I’d sniff beneath the sincerity and find the rot that might exist?

  “You didn’t tell me the truth about Sorcha,” I accused, my throat aching with the pain of such betrayal that I could barely breathe. It wasn’t just his betrayal, it was everyone’s.

  “I never lied. I told you the truth about how I felt about her. The only thing I didn’t exactly say is that she didn’t feel the same way back. That wasn’t lying.” His mouth twisted and he took a deep breath, as if preparing himself to face something brutal. “Don’t you understand? I was ashamed to tell you. I knew how much Grey and Elena loved you and I was ashamed to tell you that it wasn’t like that for me. All I ever hear from you is Grey and Elena, Grey and Elena. I was jealous and ashamed and I don’t know, Stanzie, I don’t think it has to ruin everything between us, does it?”

  “Grey and Elena probably hid secrets from me too,” I said bitterly and he sighed. “They’re not who I thought they were either. They can’t be.” I gave a ragged little laugh and saw him clench his gloved fists.

  “You’re going to let that old man poison what you had with them, aren’t you? You’re going to let that old bastard win.”

  “It’s not a question of winning or losing, it’s a question of reality. Of perspective, Murphy. Nobody is who I thought they were. Not you, not Allerton, not Grandfather Tobias, not anybody. Why should Grey and Elena be exempt just because they’re dead?”

  “If I’d had anything half as special as you had, I’d fight for it. I’d never let anyone tear it down with their bullshit scare tactics and propaganda. Jesus Christ, they loved you. Do you know how lucky you were to have had that? I’ve never had that. I’d give anything to have that.”

  He was such an impossible liar. If that’s what he really wanted, why did he push me away every time I tried to get close enough to give it to him? He didn’t want it. At least not from me.

  At that sobering thought, I jumped to my feet and plunged out into the snow storm. No sense in freezing to fucking death just because the world was full of liars.

  Murphy followed me probably because he had nowhere else to go either.

  * * * *

  The warmth of the foyer was like a wet kiss when I staggered through the front door of the safe house. I gasped aloud and tore off my snowy outer garments. My Chucks were ruined, and I kicked them aside, curling my lip in disgust.

  Murphy stamped snowy footprints onto the welcome mat and I followed his gaze to see Allerton and Kathy Manning emerge from the front room. They both had wine glasses in hand.

  “Stanzie, you look frozen. Come upstairs and I’ll run you a bath,” ordered Kathy. Damn. The last place I wanted to go was upstairs where Grandfather Tobias’s dead body presumably remained, but she was a Councilor and I was weak, tired and very cold, so I did what she said and left Murphy behind without a backward glance.

  While she fussed with the tub, I shed my clothes, kicking them into a corner of the bathroom by the shower stall. The second the tub was full I sank beneath the concealing vanilla-scented bubbles. The hot water stung my cold skin and I welcomed the pain because it drove away some of the fogginess that clogged my head.

  I thought she’d leave me in peace, but instead she picked up my discarded clothing and deposited it neatly into a wicker hamper.

  “I’ve got some chicken soup in the freezer. I thought I’d heat that up with some of the bread I just baked and we’d have that for dinner along with a salad. Will you eat that, Stanzie?”

  I made a rude face at her. “Why the hell are you so hung up on food? You’re skinny as a rail but all you do is cook.”

  She merely smiled at me.

  “And does anything make you stop smiling? Jesus, it’s like living with the Cheshire fucking Cat, I swear.”

  “I know you’re grumpy, dear. Would you like some brandy? And maybe some chocolate? I always like brandy and dark chocolate when I take a bubble bath. It’s so decadent somehow.”

  “Chocolate?” A shudder of revulsion twisted my spine. “I am never going to eat, drink, or hopefully, smell chocolate ever again.”

  “How about a cookie then? I have some sugar cookies left.” The bitch was unfazed. I nodded. Anything to
get her the hell out of the bathroom so I could bathe in peace.

  Smiling, she drifted out of the room and I scooped up a fistful of bubbles and water and threw it after her, timing it so she didn’t see. It landed nowhere near the door or her body and didn’t do the slightest bit of good at dispelling my foul mood. If anything, it intensified it.

  She was back all too goddamn soon with brandy and a plateful of cookies. She handed me the glass of brandy and waited for me take it and a cookie before she retired to the sink, where she perched on the counter and nibbled hers. So much for being left in peace.

  “Does your bond mate know you’re sleeping with Allerton?” I asked in my nastiest voice, hoping to drive her away. All she did was smile at me as if I were a petulant child who needed a nap and continued to nibble at her cookie.

  I took a huge swallow of brandy and it burned like hell on the way down. Had the coniine burned when Grandfather Tobias swallowed it? I set the glass on the side of the tub and squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry. I was damned if I would cry in front of Kathy Manning.

  “He knows,” she answered me when she finished nibbling her cookie. She was like a goddamn mouse, nibble, nibble, nibble. She couldn’t even take a proper big bite. I’d finished my cookie in three bites. I never nibbled at anything.

  “He’s got his own mistress,” she continued as she contemplated the cookies left on the plate before selecting a Christmas tree-shaped one. Again with the nibbling. I could feel my blood pressure skyrocketing so I averted my eyes in the vain attempt to distract myself. I could still hear her, though. Her little sharp mouse teeth nibble, nibble, nibbling away.

  “Sounds like a great relationship,” I remarked and she laughed to herself.

  “We’ve been bonded nearly thirty years, Stanzie,” she answered. “Things get a little...”

  “Boring?” I finished for her. My tone was belligerent because I was secretly terrified. Would Grey eventually have gotten bored with me after thirty years? Was Murphy already bored after only two months? It wasn’t fair. It was not fucking fair. I hated the world at that moment. Everything on earth could go fuck itself.

  “I was going to say predictable, but boring will do, I suppose,” she mused. “So you do things to liven it up. Matt and I compare notes and that usually turns us on and we’re all over each other. I thank my lucky stars for meeting Jason. He’s brought me back to being close to Matt again. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until after I started sleeping with Jason.”

  “Do I want to hear this?” I was relatively certain I so fucking did not.

  “You asked.” She extended the plate of cookies and, despite myself, I took another one. Treacherously sweet. Just like the woman who’d baked them.

  “When did you start sleeping with Councilor Allerton?” I stuffed the whole cookie in my mouth to shut me the fuck up but it was too late.

  “Oh, about a month after we met. Here at the safe house two and a half years ago.”

  I flushed. They’d met during my interrogation.

  “Well, I’m sure you gave my dilemma your full attention and weren’t too distracted with carnal thoughts while you were supposed to be listening to my story,” I muttered and she smiled at me brightly.

  “It was strictly business between us, Stanzie. I did give your dilemma my fullest attention. And I’ve already apologized for coming to the wrong conclusion.”

  “Well, that’s makes everything all right then, fine,” I snarled.

  “I wish you would forgive me.” She set aside her half-nibbled cookie and regarded me fondly. “You’re so passionate about everything. I admire that about you. Everything’s life or death to you, isn’t it? Me, I’ve always been somewhere in the middle. I don’t experience the highs you do. Or the lows, thankfully. I try not to feel sorry for you.”

  “Oh, well, thank you very much, Councilor Manning.” I pulled the plug on the tub because it was obvious she wasn’t going to leave me alone. I needed to run away from her. This was pure hell.

  “I’ve insulted you when I was trying to express how much I admire you. I wish you would listen to what I’m saying instead of feeling sorry for yourself. You’re not the first person who’s had to act as executioner in this Great Pack of ours, you know. We have our laws. You know them, presumably.”

  “He was supposed to go to Florida. His pack voted to exile him, not put him to death,” I snapped as I reached for a towel.

  Kathy Manning ran her slanted elfish gaze across my nude body and I felt unaccountably self-conscious. I was a huge stork in comparison with her. Why did she have to be so petite and perfect, damn her?

  “The Great Council and the Regional Council of New England outrank the local pack. There was a secret vote, as you well know, and he was condemned to death. You broke no laws doing what you did. You performed a service to the Great Pack. It was also your right, considering the fact that he caused the death of your bond mates.”

  “I thought you said you knew I know our laws.” I gave her a dirty look as I wrapped the towel around my body. “Why do you have to lecture me about them if you know I know them?”

  “Because you’re acting like you don’t,” she said with another patented Manning smile.

  I briskly toweled myself dry while she watched me.

  “So I didn’t break any goddamn laws,” I all but shouted at her. She was impossible to ignore. “It doesn’t make what I did any easier to take. Maybe for you! Maybe for someone who doesn’t experience any highs or lows, maybe you’re the ones who ought to be the fucking executioners in this Great Pack of ours. Maybe people like me make sucky executioners.”

  “I would think for someone who sees only black and white, up or down, right or wrong, this would have been a piece of cake for you.” Kathy Manning regarded me as if I were a bug squirming on the end of a pin just before expiring.

  “Yeah, you’d think,” I said bitterly. I stomped into the bedroom to find clothes to wear.

  Chapter 14

  Murphy and Allerton sat in the front room when I clattered down the stairs. Allerton was drinking wine as he read a book on the sofa. Murphy stared out the bay window at the snowy darkness. He had a glass of wine too, but it was full and I half suspected he’d forgotten he even held it.

  The wine bottle was on the glass-topped coffee table with an empty glass and a plate of cheese sticks that did not come out of a box but had been twisted together by Kathy Manning. The woman was relentless.

  That didn’t stop me from scooping up a handful of the damn things. They were light and crunchy and melted in my mouth. Cheddar cheese and herbs—simple things but she managed to make them taste like magic.

  I poured myself wine and ignored Allerton’s blue eyes as he stared at me above his book. Murphy didn’t turn around from his contemplation of the snow.

  “I want to go back to Boston,” I said to Allerton then took a huge gulp of the wine.

  “There’s the funeral to attend first,” he replied.

  My jaw dropped. “I’m supposed to go the funeral of a man I murdered?”

  “You didn’t murder him,” Murphy snarled from behind me.

  “I suppose he was just the slightest bit complicit in his own death. He watched me pour the poison into his cup and he drank it anyway, but he still died by my hand. That makes me a murderer.” I helped myself to another handful of cheese sticks and took them to the farthest corner of the room where I could get away from Murphy and Allerton.

  “You were acting as the Hand of the Great Council,” Allerton explained to me.

  “I heard all this upstairs from Councilor Manning. You can make it sound as flowery and noble as you like, but it doesn’t change the fact I killed him.”

  “It’s our law. It’s our way.” Allerton sighed and set aside his book. He picked up his wine glass and walked toward me. I had nowhere to go—my back was literally against the wall.

  “You accepted the task, Constance.” His handsome face loomed closer and closer until I felt
trapped and wanted to hit out and scream, but instead I took another big sip of wine.

  “He said he was grateful that he got to die with someone he loved. Can you believe that shit?” I muttered, swiping my free hand across my eyes. They burned with tears but I did not want to cry. I so did not want to cry.

  “You were compassionate, Stanzie,” said Allerton and that did it. I had not been compassionate, I’d been awful and paralyzed and accusatory and bitter and mean and, shit, the man had killed Grey and Elena. He’d been lucky I hadn’t torn him apart with my fingernails.

  I burst into ugly tears. Allerton took my wine glass away and put it somewhere. The next thing I knew he was holding me, his arms strong and supportive around me while I wailed into his shoulder.

  The second Allerton knew I had control again, he let me go and stepped back. His expression was grave and full of empathy and I felt ashamed of myself.

  “I can’t do anything right,” I complained and he took hold of my chin so I was forced to look him in the face.

  “You did fine. You did exceptionally well.”

  I almost started crying again, only that’s when I realized Murphy had left the room.

  * * * *

  Murphy didn’t come to dinner. It was just Kathy Manning, Allerton and me seated in the Colonial dining room. They made small talk between them while I silently devoured two bowls of chicken soup and five pieces of bread. I drank water instead of wine because I didn’t want to get drunk. I’d fall apart for sure even worse than I already had if I got drunk.

  There was hot apple cobbler for dessert with a scoop of real vanilla bean ice cream on top. When I tasted it I knew Murphy would have loved it. He had a sweet tooth, Murphy did. I loved to watch his face when he tasted something especially sweet and delicious because the most incredible smile of contentment drifted across his mouth as he chewed and swallowed.

  Halfway through, I put my spoon down and excused myself from the table.

  Allerton and Kathy Manning watched me leave the room but didn’t say anything.

  Murphy sprawled across the bed upstairs—one arm curled around his head, the other straight to his side. He stared at the ceiling and didn’t look at me when I walked in.