by Lexi Post
Joy locked gazes with Malcolm. This was more cause for concern. Why hadn’t Cam shared the photos with Holly? Were they not supposed to say anything, or did he want them to? The deeper they delved into this assignment, the more she felt as if she were walking through a mine field.
As if sensing her dilemma, Malcolm stepped in. “Your husband has pictures of his mom given to him by his aunt and uncle.”
Holly’s brow furrowed. “If he has them, then why did he never show them to me?”
Malcolm kept silent. Even Joy had nothing to offer as it would only be conjecture.
“Where are they?” Holly faced Malcolm.
Joy cringed. If Malcolm told, would Cameron’s wrath cause him to lose his job? He already jeopardized it by telling her about them. Or was he supposed to because Cameron’s superiors wanted him punished in some way? Or would the higher ups use Malcolm as a scapegoat, knowing his penchant for using shock and bad news to help his living clients.
She couldn’t let him take all the blame, if that were coming. “I think you should ask Cameron that. You did say he will visit you later, right?”
Holly nodded, but she was clearly upset.
Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned Lorna’s looks. “Lorna has a brother and a sister. Her sister is the one whose baby was about to eat the ornament.”
“And that has to be her brother.” Holly pointed to the young man on the other side of the grandmother.
“You’re right.” Joy moved next to the young man. “Of course, with his red hair, it wasn’t that tough to figure out, was it?”
Holly’s smile returned. “They all look so happy.”
“It’s Christmas day spent with family.” Joy opened her arms wide. “What could be better?”
“Hogmanay.” Malcolm’s grin was mischievous.
“Oh no, I disagree.” Holly shook her finger at Malcolm. “You Scots may like to celebrate the New Year, but I convinced Cam that Christmas was just as good.”
Joy held her breath as Malcolm spoke. “From your actions over the last couple years, I wouldn’t have known.”
Holly’s arms came across her chest. “I’ll have you know I lost my husband. I’ve been grieving. Do you have any clue what that’s like?”
Joy stiffened. Oh, no.
Malcolm’s jaw tensed. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Holly didn’t back down at all. “And what did you do? Did you go off partying with your friends? Celebrate Christmas with your family? You seem to know so much about what I should be doing. What did you do?”
“I killed people.”
Chapter Seven
Joy stared in shock.
Holly’s arms dropped as fear entered her eyes.
Before another word could be uttered, Joy grabbed Malcolm and brought him to the ether with no intention of bringing him out until he explained, but he took control of their flight and pulled them into a dark underground alley in a city somewhere.
She released him and set herself down at least twenty feet away before solidifying. She itched to ask him what he meant, but her tactics rarely worked. Instead, she waited.
Malcolm simply stared at her though she wasn’t sure if he actually saw her. His hands were fisted and his body still.
There was a lone light over a door at one end of the alley and what looked like a couple of mechanized dumpsters of some sort, not that they helped since trash lay everywhere and from the movement of one pile, she’d bet there were plenty of rats. It was an unforgiving place.
“Welcome to Glasgow’s underbelly, forty-five years in the future.” Malcolm’s voice surprised her, the tone almost sneering.
She returned her gaze to him. He’d solidified as well and had thrown his hood up over his head. Like that, with the backdrop of the darkness, he seemed sinister. Is he? Maybe that’s why they were testing him. Maybe she’d be asked to report.
“Why did you bring us here?”
He opened his arms. “This was my life.”
She widened her eyes. “You lived in an underground alley?”
His chuckle was harsh. “No. My home was far from here. This is where I worked. I was a Watchman. Trained to kill or take-in the criminal element, whichever was easier. Sanctioned by the city to clean it up.” He gestured toward a dumpster. “Clean-up the human trash.”
She shivered. Malcolm’s normally dark eyes seemed to glitter with an amber light. “Is that what you meant when you said you killed people after your wife died.”
He stepped closer to her as he shook his head. “My wife didn’t die, though I hope she did soon after I did. It was Blair’s death that sent me over the edge.”
She should have known he’d have more than one love in his life. That bothered her for an irrational reason that she wasn’t about to investigate now. “I think I’m confused.”
“I’m sure you are. Allow me to enlighten you. I worked in this environment until Blair was shot. While she was with me, I had some semblance of what was normal. She was my consummate.”
“What is that?” This is where she was having a hard time understanding.
He paused as if surprised by her question then he nodded. “A consummate is someone you commit to love for the rest of your life, a true soulmate. A wife is a person you plan to live with but you have no idea how long that will be. This was how it was set up in my lifetime since marriage among people of your lifetime stopped averaging more than ten years.”
“Oh.” That was a sad state. Maybe not marrying Alan had been a good thing after all. “So, Blair was your consummate and she was killed by…” she held out her hands, “this.”
“Aye, this. This environment and my profession. It was the shooter’s understanding of what I was that caused her death.”
“A Watchman.”
He looked beyond her as if she hadn’t spoken. “He knew I had the right to kill him and he wasn’t about to take that chance. As a Watchman, I wasn’t allowed to hunt down criminals, only take them in or take them down as I came across them committing a crime. The shooter ran while I held Blair, lying to her and telling her she would be okay.”
Joy wanted to take him in her arms and sooth away his pain, but instinct told her that was far beyond her ability.
“That night I resigned. I had a shooter to catch and no one was going to stand in my way.”
She gasped. “You turned vigilante.” Now she understood what he’d meant by saying he’d gone rogue.
At her words, his gaze came back to her. “I began wearing this cape to cover my face from all but the vermin I killed. It took me months, but I finally found the shooter. He was well aware of who I was before he died.”
Joy took a step back. It was so at odds with her life and her time. She didn’t understand it. She had lived helping the loved and treasured die, while he’d lived sending the hated and feared to their deaths.
Malcolm ignored her. “But my victory was hollow. Blair was still gone and without her, I’d lost all sense of what normal was. I slept all day so I could prowl these alleys at night for prey.”
He blinked as if suddenly remembering where he was. His lip quirked up on one side, an odd look for what he’d told her. “I did bring the crime rate to its lowest level in history.”
He shrugged. “I thought it ironic that I landed the job of Spirit of Christmas Future.”
“Why?” She forced the word past her lips. Maybe it would help her understand him.
His eyes took on the glitter they had when he first started to speak. “Whenever a criminal sensed me lurking in the shadows, he would inevitably ask who was there. I always answered the same. ‘Your future.’ Others heard me on occasion, so they gave me the name of The Future.”
The glitter dissipated and his grin was back. “Ironic, wouldn’t you agree?”
She nodded, her throat too dry to speak. Suddenly, she didn’t want the assignment anymore. Malcolm’s pain was too deep and too wide. It threatened to swallow her though how that could happen, she didn’t know.<
br />
She tried to smile in return, but her lips just wouldn’t move.
“You asked if I wondered what happened after I died. I don’t. I was set-up by my wife, Coira and the very people that live here.” He spread his arms to encompass the dark alley. “I was shot, hung up by my wrists, then stabbed and left as a warning to others who wanted to clear the city of vermin. I bled out, but it took hours. I have no doubt those very vermin multiplied after I was gone.”
The image he painted was so gruesome, his wife’s betrayal so evil that her stomach started to rebel and bile crawled up her throat.
He sneered. “I bet it’s the opposite for you. Tell me, Joy. How did you die?”
She shook her head, not really sure if he was still Malcolm or taken over by another entity.
“Oh, you must tell. I told you about my death, now tell me about yours.” His eyes started to glitter again, and she instinctively stepped back. Was this how he interrogated suspects?
“Tell me!”
At his command, she opened her mouth. “My niece. She needed a kidney. I was a match. There were complications. I died.” She choked the words out past her fear.
Malcolm’s eyes lost their intensity. “And you want to know if she lived.” The way he said it, in a sing-song voice made her sound pathetic. Compared to him, she was. Maybe she should just let it go.
He must have sensed her defeat. He waved his hand. “Go back to Holly. I’ll be there shortly.”
Not waiting another second, she flew upward, through the darkness of the underground alley, through the road above and out into the sun. She blinked to discover it was broad daylight.
Completely confused, she headed straight for Cameron’s office.
Malcolm stared at the spot Joy had occupied. Having her in the darkened space was like having a flower in a dung heap —out of place. He’d wanted to shock her and he probably did, but he’d also surprised himself.
He looked around. This was where he’d lived, where his mind always drifted back to, but it wasn’t where he belonged anymore. The realization was as confusing as it was true. This wasn’t him. Joy’s presence, her goodness, called to more of him than he thought was there.
Flying upward out of the catacombs of his old underground world, he felt lighter. He’d always thought his job as a Spirit Guide meant his life had been approved in some weird way, but it wasn’t his life that was worthy, it was his soul.
He floated down outside his cottage not yet ready to return to their assignment. Solidifying, he wandered toward the sunlight just beyond his little valley. He’d hidden out here, far from the city, to avoid his new wife and those who would destroy The Future. He was glad he still had the pureness of the Scottish countryside to ease his mind.
He’d never completely trusted his wife. She’d begged him to take her with him after he’d killed her boss. The fear in her eyes had been real, but he had no doubt in hindsight that she was either afraid of him, or the man who had made her a spy.
Malcolm meandered along the burn of a small stream, the sunlight sparkling off the water as it followed itself down to the river beyond. Coira was like that, following whoever she thought was stronger. He felt no anger toward her. He’d known something wasn’t right but had ignored his instincts, too focused on revenge. That she’d led him to his death at the hands of another crime chief was half his fault.
He stopped and threw his hood back to enjoy the sun in his re-creation of the Scottish hills. He’d had one woman he’d trusted with his life and she lost hers. He also had one woman he’d never trusted and he’d lost his. That begged the question of where Joy fit in.
It wasn’t as if his life was in danger, though she did think he’d cease to exist if he angered the wrong people. How can I keep you safe when you do everything in your power to undermine me? Her words echoed in his mind. She sincerely thought his existence was in danger, but his gut, his instinct, was telling him that wasn’t the case.
He walked toward the ancient circle of stones and leaned on the closest one. If his gut was right, he was safe. Holly was also safe as she was among the living. That left only two possible people in danger, Joy and Cameron.
A spike of fear shot up his spine at the idea that Joy could be the target. Did Cameron’s superiors know that he would choose Joy as his partner? He tried to think back on every interaction he’d had with her. When viewed in its entirety and without the larger picture, it was obvious he’d pick her.
But when he compared it with the other spirits he’d met with, his choice of Joy appeared to be out of the blue, which was in fact, Cameron’s reaction. But Cameron was being manipulated as well. It wasn’t hard to figure out that in order for Cameron to help his wife, he had to do things he didn’t want to.
Malcolm grinned. Cameron would never have chosen him to help Holly if he’d had a choice.
Did that mean Cameron’s existence was in jeopardy? He found that hard to believe, but wouldn’t rule it out any more than he’d rule out Joy’s danger. He simply didn’t have enough information.
He held out his hand. “Joy Collingwood’s life file.” As he expected, nothing happened. He didn’t need Cameron’s since he’d watched the complete file of Cameron and Holly’s life up until Coco and Ian had left. He could think of only one way to make Cameron reveal what was going on and that was through Holly.
Standing upright again, he patted the warm stone behind him. “Thanks.” A vibration pulsed against his hand, and he smiled. With a new goal in mind, he breathed easier.
Phasing, he flew to Holly at Lorna’s family Christmas. At least with his new goal, he wouldn’t be so much at odds with Joy, which meant that a visit to his cottage was back on the table.
He arrived only a second after he left, but Joy wasn’t there. That surprised him. He’d expected her to be reassuring Holly by now. It was probably better if he handled Holly anyway after the shock he’d given her.
Holly’s voice was barely a whisper. “You killed people?” She floated backwards.
He waved off the statement, not willing to tell her the whole truth. “I was part of a special force within the department of police.”
She halted. “Like a SWAT team or something?”
“Or something.”
“In other words, you were so devastated that you didn’t think your life worth living and risked getting killed in the line of duty.” From her shrewd look, she assumed she had him all figured out.
“No. I didn’t take any unnecessary risks.” Except marrying Coira. He shook his head. “I was too busy hunting down the man who killed the woman I loved.”
Holly’s gaze softened, sympathy written all over her face.
Schitz, not again. “I had a mission. What’s yours?”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Mine?” She snorted. “You mean like hunting down the man who killed my husband? That might be a little difficult since Cam did that all by himself.”
He wanted her to get angry at her late husband. As far as he could see, it was the only way that she’d finally let go of him. Was that what Cameron’s superiors wanted?
Holly scowled, but the hurt in her dark chocolate eyes still held sway.
He pressed her. “Did Ethan try to stop Cameron and Brody from rock climbing on that Christmas day?”
Pain filled her eyes. “He did, but they only listened to him half the time. Cam had new equipment he wanted to try out. He was too impatient to wait for the mist to clear. Ethan tried to warn him it wouldn’t be just wet, but icy.”
“Do I have this right? Cameron left you on Christmas day to try out new rock climbing equipment even though Ethan warned him it was dangerous?”
Holly’s brows lowered. “Yes.” She crossed her arms. “If he’d just stayed home with me like we always did, having Brody and Ethan over for dinner, he’d still be alive today.”
“That means he died for no reason than his own need for an adrenaline rush and good time, when he could have been home with you. Climbing was more important than
having the rest of his life with you.”
“Yes. No. Cam loved me.”
She was steadfast in her belief in Cameron, which was admirable but not helping her. “But if he’d stayed home, you might even have a couple of children by now. It’s been three years.”
Holly threw her arms up, her scowl at odds with the tears in her eyes. “Hey, that’s who he was. Even now he feels so guilty about that.”
Ah, now that was a revelation. Cameron’s motivation in helping Holly was his own guilt. It had to be pretty powerful for him to beg for, and receive, a special dispensation to be allowed to affect her life. And what were the terms of that boon?
Holly’s expression turned smug. “In fact, if he didn’t feel so bad about that, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He swallowed a laugh. Cameron’s wife was definitely not a pushover. “If I wasn’t here, I’d be helping another person, probably someone who was willing to accept help.”
“Hey, wait a minute. I’m willing to be helped. I think it’s you who doesn’t want to be helped.”
That didn’t make sense at all, so he ignored her statement. “But this isn’t about me. I obviously continued to live and make a difference in other people’s lives. What are you doing?”
“I’m doing a lot. I have the shop which makes many people happy. I’ve hired Cameron’s cousin Brooke to help me there, and she loves it. I also, well, I participate in the community.”
He raised his brow.
“Don’t give me that look.” Holly looked beyond him. “Where’s Joy? She was just here a minute ago.”
That was a good question. She could join them at any time. So why wasn’t she back?
~~*~~
Joy paced the confines of Cameron’s office. She’d popped in at multiple times and each time he wasn’t there. For the first time, she wished she knew where he existed in his off hours. How could he not be working for so many days and times? It didn’t make sense.
She stopped. I’m simply treading carefully. Cameron is being manipulated as are we. If we don’t get this right, there will be dire consequences. Malcolm’s words from earlier froze her to the spot.
