Madison's Song

by Christine Amsden

  But mostly, he was just too intense.

  “Well?” Evan snapped. “What are you doing here?”

  “Clinton’s my brother, and he needs me.”

  “I see.” It was Evan’s turn to look away. “You do know you can come to me for help, right?”

  “Yes.” She started to explain further, but stopped herself. The answer was really as simple and as complicated as that. She did know she could go to him for help, and she probably would have if it had been anything but a werewolf. But it still wouldn’t have made up for over twenty missed years, and it still wouldn’t help her feel like a part of his family.

  “I don’t like you being here with him,” Evan said, jerking his head in Scott’s direction. “He’s dangerous.”

  “I know.”

  “To you,” Evan continued, as if that hadn’t been apparent in his tone.

  Madison hesitated, but she nodded, once. “Look, maybe you can help us finish our job faster. We need to follow a werewolf, but she knows both of our scents.”

  Evan looked back at Scott, who briefly summed up the situation. After a few minutes of questions and answers, Evan agreed to the mission, and headed for the door. “I’ll check in every hour.”

  When he closed the door behind him, Madison wondered aloud, “Will that be checking in or checking up?”

  Scott grunted. “Why won’t you let him in?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you say Clinton’s all you have, but look at that guy. He drove half the night to get here. Don’t you think maybe you have more friends than you think you do?”

  Maybe, but she never knew which ones to trust. She and Evan had a blood tie, but how could that be stronger than the bond that should have been forged between her and her adoptive father over a lifetime? And look what Phillip Carter had done to her.

  “I never knew anyone who wanted brothers and sisters more than him. Drove me nuts when I was younger, trying to play with me. Course, he’s five years younger. Made a big difference when I was twelve. I didn’t let him in until I got the bite, and he was just about the only one left who’d hang out with me at all. Not that he ever gave me grief for how badly I treated him up until then.”

  “You were a kid.”

  “You’re not.”

  Madison’s face reddened. “You have no idea what my life has been like for the last two years. It’s not that easy to trust someone, especially someone who’s turned on me before. I do the best I can with him. I have dinner with his family twice a month. It’s not like I’m giving him the cold shoulder.”

  “But you haven’t let him in. When was the last time you let someone in?”

  She remembered the answer to that question all too clearly. “A year and a half ago, when I told a certain someone how nervous the world of sorcery made me, and he told me he could protect me. He used my fears to convince me to marry him, then he turned on me a few months later.”

  “Is that why you agreed to marry him? I thought he was a bit young for you.”

  “So did everyone else, and maybe they were right, but for a little while he made me feel special. It’s not like I’ve had men knocking down my door.” She made a gesture up and down her thick body to demonstrate the reason why. “I never even had a boyfriend in college. Nicolas was the first. Ever. And he–” She broke off, turning her head away.

  “Do you want me to kill him for you?”

  “What?” She turned her head so quickly she almost got whiplash. “No!” Then, considering, “You were joking, right?”

  He shrugged. “Probably.” But there was a darkness that stole over his face, keeping his mood from the world. He was shutting himself off as surely as she was. The two of them made a fine pair.

  “Do you play cards?” Madison asked, going to her purse to get out the deck she always kept there for emergencies.

  “Not usually, but you could persuade me.”

  Chapter 14

  MADISON HADN’T UNDERSTOOD HOW ANGRY EVAN was, but Scott did. He didn’t know if his best friend would have killed him or not just now, assuming he could, but it wasn’t as far outside the realm of possibility as many might believe. Evan knew Scott, trusted him, and had covered his back many times, but Evan knew one thing that nobody else outside his pack knew. Evan knew about the first person Scott had ever killed.

  Evan had first warned Scott off long before he knew Madison was his sister. Only the tone changed after the discovery. He went from, “You know you have no business being with a normal girl, even one who owes you a debt. You know you’ll regret it,” to, “You put one paw on my sister and I’ll flay you alive.”

  Scott played several hands of gin rummy with Madison, who beat him every time. She was smart as a whip, with a good memory, and she seemed to know exactly what he held in his hand. Usually his intuition gave him a big edge, but today he was too distracted by the woman seated across from him. Her cheeks flushed with victory when she won, lighting up her face, and when she leaned over to collect the cards he saw a hint of creamy cleavage.

  She did not smell of fear.

  After his third straight loss he gave up, putting his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. “I need to call Jack anyway, to find out what’s going on with the local pack.”

  In a perfect world, Scott would leave Jack in charge of the pack and go on about his business. Trouble was, Jack wasn’t alpha material. He was smart enough, and could hold his own in a fight, but he didn’t have the commanding presence it took to be a leader. Someone else would have to take over, and Scott needed to make sure it was someone who could handle the job this time.

  When he called, Jack was apparently at a pack meeting in Bloomington, at the house where Scott had killed Isaac the day before. One of the wolves Scott had knocked out with a sleep spell, Clyde, was organizing everything, and would probably take over.

  “I want to talk to Clyde,” Scott said. “You have him come here. Alone. And if he thinks about messing around with me, just remind him what happened to Isaac.”

  With that taken care of, Scott had nothing left to do but wait for something to happen. The downtime wouldn’t normally have bothered him, but today the downtime came in a cramped motel room with the most tempting woman he had ever met. She had on a tighter shirt than usual, a pale blue one that hugged her soft curves.

  And she kept looking at him.

  Scott was just about to go out for a run when Evan called, probably for one of his checkups.

  “We’re fine,” Scott said.

  “We’re not,” Evan replied. In the background Scott heard a woman screaming.

  “What’s going on there?”

  “I don’t know. Clara’s losing it. She’s cutting herself over and over again, shrieking that she can’t find it. I’ve got her restrained, but I don’t know how long I can hold her.”

  “I’m on my way.” Scott ended the call as he raced out the door, Madison on his heels. He wanted to tell her to stay put, but he also didn’t have time to argue. In the end he had to trust that between Evan and himself, they could keep her safe.

  He had chosen a room at the back of the motel complex, facing away from the main road. Clara’s room was at the front, but it didn’t take him long to circle the building and find it. He could hear her shrieking as soon as he left his room, and might have heard it without the phone call if he had been paying more attention.

  The room door was open. A few gawkers stood nearby, one openly questioning whether or not to call the police. Great. Just what he needed.

  “No problem, I’ve got it,” Scott said, hoping he sounded reassuring. “Panic attack. My sister gets them all the time.”

  The onlookers looked relieved to have an explanation, and a reason not to get involved. They didn’t back off, however, so as soon as he and Madison were inside the room, he closed the door firmly behind them.

  Evan had Clara pinned to one of the beds via telekinesis, but she still twisted and fought, a feat no normal woman – or man, fo
r that matter – could have managed. She was a mess, bleeding freely from several large cuts along her arms and legs. A few more had already begun to heal. There was blood everywhere – the sheets, the blankets, the floors, the vanity, the mirrors, and the TV all had crimson splatters.

  She didn’t still when Scott entered the room and closed the door, but she sniffed the air. Her face paled when she recognized him.

  “What happened?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know,” Evan replied. “I was watching her, like you said, but she just stayed in the room all morning so there wasn’t much to do. Then, suddenly, I heard screaming, so I broke open the door and found her like this.”

  “I can’t find it,” Clara moaned.

  “The transmitter?” Scott asked.

  “I can’t find it,” she repeated.

  Scott stared at her, mouth slightly agape, trying to figure out what to do. Not for the first time, he wished his gift of intuition could help him more when it came to human emotions. The gift didn’t desert him entirely, but it did get confused, and at the moment, it may as well not have existed at all.

  “Madison,” Scott said, turning back to her. “Can you sing to her? Calm her down somehow?”

  “I calm down the kids at school sometimes, but they’re misbehaving, not freaking out.” She wrung her hands. “I’m trying to think–”

  They really needed to spend some time working on a repertoire for her, assuming she would agree to such a thing. He hoped this entire situation was helping her see the value of her gift, instead of dwelling on what she saw as a devilish manipulation.

  “You don’t know any songs about feeling safe, maybe?” Scott suggested.

  “I–” She stopped, and her face lit up. “Yes, there’s one I used to sing at church.”

  She cleared her throat; Scott prepared himself for her beautiful, almost haunting voice to fill the room. He had noticed her before he had first heard her sing, had been tempted by her, but it wasn’t until the day when he’d first heard her siren’s song that he’d wanted her as his mate. She hadn’t even sung a love song – she’d sung “America the Beautiful.” But he’d heard something in her voice, sensed something rising above the shyness she normally clung to like a shield, and he’d known she was softness and strength.

  That same siren’s voice called to him again now. And again, he had the sense that she only let her true self out when she sang. Her face glowed and she seemed lit by an inner fire.

  And He will raise you up on Eagle’s wings,

  bear you on the breath of down,

  make you to shine like the sun,

  and hold you in the palm of His hand.

  Clara’s screaming stopped. Evan didn’t release his hold on her, but she remained still, no longer testing her bonds. She looked at Madison, and her eyes seemed to be pleading for the same thing Scott wanted – more.

  “That’s beautiful,” Evan said.

  “I don’t remember the refrains,” Madison confessed. “Only the chorus. We haven’t done that one in choir lately.”

  “Beautiful,” Scott echoed.

  “Clara,” Madison said, ignoring the compliment. “You’re safe. Do you understand?”

  Scott wouldn’t have put it quite like that. He was almost definitely going to have to kill this woman, especially after witnessing this new sign of instability.

  “I can’t find the transmitter,” Clara repeated. “There has to be one. How else would they have found me?”

  How indeed? Scott frowned, then put together her question with one Madison had posed the day before. “Why did you come to Springfield?”

  “What?” Clara blinked at him in confusion “Why Springfield? You were in Springfield, Missouri, and now you’re in Springfield, Illinois. Why? Where were you going next? Another Springfield?”

  “I–” She blinked several times. “I have to go to Springfield.”

  “Why?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know.” She glared at him. “How did you find me? Did you put a transmitter on me, too?”

  “Mind magic, do you think?” Evan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Scott said. It was a reasonable explanation, but not all mental manipulation had to be magical in nature. “She was part of a military project; doesn’t seem to understand magic at all. Could just be brainwashing or hypnosis or something.”

  “Doesn’t she have to be willing for hypnosis to work?” Madison asked.

  “I don’t know,” Scott replied. “Never looked into it. Have you?”

  Madison shook her head. “I just saw something on TV once.”

  “Maybe you can help her remember,” Scott said.

  Madison shook her head, vehemently. “Oh no. That’s too complicated. My gift is just suggestive, remember? I can’t get inside her head.”

  Scott wasn’t so sure, but he would let it go for now. If she was sure, then she was right. That was the true nature of magic.

  “Where’s this lab you escaped from?” Scott asked instead, finally giving voice to the question he should have asked when he’d had her in his living room.

  For a second, she looked like she might argue. Scott imagined having to go through the whole torture routine again, but to his surprise, she answered after only a short pause. “It’s in Texas. Military base in a tiny town called Junction, north of Houston.”

  “There’s no pack down there,” Scott observed. The land was too barren, with few trees. Plus, werewolves tended to prefer a colder climate. There weren’t many werewolf packs in the southern states at all.

  “Is Clinton there?” Madison asked.

  Again, Clara hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes.”

  “How do you know?” Scott asked. Something wasn’t adding up again, not that much had added up since he’d met this woman.

  “I–” She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she looked at Scott with perfectly rational, perfectly sane eyes. The woman who had carved open her skin looking for a transmitter had gone, leaving another woman in her place. “Kill me.”

  “What?” Scott knew he needed to put her down, but he had never had someone ask him to do it.

  “Please. I’m a monster. I know I am. I killed this couple the other night. In the lab, they kept me chained up, but out here there’s nothing to stop me.”

  “You can learn to control it,” Madison said, stepping forward. Scott shoved her aside, more forcefully than he intended, earning a glare from Evan.

  “The first thing I did when I got out was bite someone. I did it on purpose, because I didn’t want to be alone, but I could have killed him. I’m surprised I didn’t.”

  Scott wasn’t as surprised as she was. If she felt safe and unthreatened, and had found a potential recruit for her pack, then her wolf was unlikely to kill it outright. In its own way the wolf was as social as the human, which was probably why she had gone out and bitten someone the first chance she got. She wanted to form her own pack.

  “You can’t kill her,” Madison said. “Please. She needs help. She’s asking for help.”

  “Someone’s been messing with her head,” Scott replied. “You saw that yourself. I don’t know if she can be helped, and in the meantime, how many have to die?”

  Madison looked at Evan, clearly hoping for support, but Evan looked away, probably hoping to be left out of this decision. Scott wished he had that luxury. He had thought putting her down would be almost as easy as taking care of Isaac or Bret, but it wasn’t. He suddenly felt much more like the beast putting a nine-year-old child out of its misery. Why did her asking to die suddenly make him feel more evil for obliging her?

  “Out,” Scott said sharply to both of them.

  Evan dropped whatever hold he had over Clara, but she didn’t move from the bed. He started for the door, but Madison hadn’t moved. She was trembling slightly, and she once again smelled of fear.

  “Scott, please. She’s asking for help.”

  “I’m asking to die,” Clara said. “Go on, girl
. Get out.”

  When she still didn’t move, Evan took her by the arm and guided her out the door, closing it firmly behind him. Madison let out one last cry of, “No!” before Evan apparently silenced her. Not that it mattered. The damage had been done. He knew exactly how Madison felt, and he knew when he was through that he would look that much more evil in her eyes.

  Good. It was a good thing she’d go back to hating and fearing him. She deserved so much better. But he feared that whatever remained of his blackened heart had just walked out that door with her.

  Chapter 15

  SHE WASN’T GOING TO CRY. SHE could not cry, but this was all too much for her, and she had to find someplace she could be alone. After Evan ushered her out the door, she broke free of his arm, making a mad dash for the back of the motel complex and her rented room. Once inside, she slammed the door shut, automatically locking it, then threw the chain in place.

  For a few seconds she stood there in the entrance, staring at two unmade beds with threadbare linens and old, lumpy mattresses. Somewhere on the other side of the building, in a similar room, a woman might be dying at this very instant, a woman who knew she needed help, but who didn’t believe she could get the kind she needed before someone else died. Was Scott right? Did she have to die?

  And then she came to the real problem. What if... what if it were Clinton? What would he do then? Unfortunately, she knew the answer. She had seen the answer more than once in the past twenty-four hours, and it made her feel sick inside.

  She had softened towards him. She had begun to forget who he was, though in his defense he had never tried to deny it. He was a killer. A monster. A werewolf. She didn’t understand his world.

  She collapsed face down onto the bed furthest from the door, which Scott had slept in the night before. It still smelled like him.