Kelley Armstrong - Otherworld Chills

Vanessa had bought them first-class tickets. Probably assumed he wouldn’t fly coach. Not necessarily true—he was as flexible in that as in everything else—but yes, given the choice, he’d take the extra leg and elbow room.

Their seats were together, which was less comfortable. He hadn’t forgotten that this whole mess could have been avoided if she’d listened to him. Also, while he wasn’t one to hold a grudge, her early mockery still stung. If it wouldn’t have been rude, he might have switched his seat. As it was, he just worked quietly on his laptop.

Halfway through the short flight, Vanessa cleared her throat and said, “Tell me about Malcolm Danvers.”

He glanced over. She had her laptop out. Malcolm’s dossier was right there on the screen, and he wanted to tell her to read it instead, but that was being pissy. She followed his gaze, though, and said, “That’s his bio from Elena. Heavily redacted.”

“I’m sure she didn’t remove anything you need to identify him. Or to understand what he’s capable of.”

“No, but it’s like reading the arrest file for someone who was never charged with a crime. Without a trial, there’s nothing in-depth. No motivation. No insight.”

“I’m not sure I can provide that, either. I knew him for half my life, but we weren’t close. Malcolm had his favorites. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them.”

“Who was?”

Nick hesitated, but the answer did explain more about Malcolm, which would help her.

“Antonio—my father—and Clay were his favorites,” he said, “Jeremy was … not the kind of son Malcolm wanted. So he looked for substitutes. Antonio was a fighter, and that always topped Malcolm’s list of requirements. But when Clay came along …?” Nick shrugged. “My father isn’t aggressive. There’s no edge. No anger. He fights for pure physical challenge. Clay has edge. He was bitten as a child. He embraces his wolf side more than any of us. Malcolm was fascinated by him. He didn’t understand him, though. Whatever Clay’s rep, he’s no psycho. If you threaten his family, he won’t think twice about killing you. But otherwise? He’s never laid a finger on anyone for kicks. He wouldn’t understand that, any more than a real wolf would. Violence is for problem-solving. Malcolm didn’t get that. When Clay wouldn’t hunt mutts for sport, Malcolm blamed Jeremy’s influence. It didn’t matter how much Clay hated Malcolm—and he hated him more than anyone—Malcolm never stopped pursuing him.”

“As a substitute son? Or … more?”

“Antonio always thought there was more to it when Malcolm chased him . There was no shortage of women in Malcolm’s life, but he had nothing but contempt for them, and humans in general. So maybe there was some confusion there. Looking to make a connection, whatever that connection might be.”

“Is Elena in danger, then? If Malcolm wanted a woman of his own kind, there is one now. Only one.”

“He won’t go after her like that. It’d be easier if he would—lay a trap for him. She might be a werewolf, but to him, she’s just a woman. Weak.”

“Except she kicked his ass.”

Nick smiled at the thought. “True, but that’s only going to piss him off. Elena belongs to Clay, so she’s relatively safe. Same with me.”

“Because you’re Antonio’s son.”

He nodded. “Malcolm never pursued me, but he treated me well for Antonio’s sake. I’d say that means he won’t come after me, but I’d never make that presumption. It only means I’m unlikely to draw his immediate fire.”

“He’ll think twice before attacking you.”

“No, but he’ll think twice before killing me.”

“According to the GPS from Tina’s phone, she was somewhere around here when she called. It was shut off after … Nick?”

They’d arrived in Detroit an hour ago, rented a car, and drove to this neighborhood. They’d been walking for about ten minutes as Nick followed the trail. He’d moved away while Vanessa had been talking. Now he lifted a hand, telling her to be quiet as he listened. The night was still and silent. Nick could see signs that it hadn’t always been like that. There had been shops, but they were long closed and boarded up. An empty block, inhabited only by homeless people and vermin. Vermin of the animal variety—even gangbangers and dealers didn’t see profit in a place without buyers. Contrary to what the news reports might suggest, the whole city of Detroit wasn’t like this, but there were pockets of it. A modern-day ghost town.

Tina should have taken one look around and known she was being led into a trap. But she’d been too cocky. He’d gotten that vibe from her when they met, and it was part of what made him decide they wouldn’t spend the night together. Here, she would have looked around and thought this was the perfect place to catch her prey, without ever considering Malcolm might be thinking the same thing.

“Stay close,” Nick said as he set out.

“We should do this methodically,” Vanessa whispered as she jogged to catch up. “Tina said it was a blind alley, so if we cover the area strip by strip—”

“No need,” he said. “I have her trail.”

“Trail? Oh, right. Scent. Okay. I’ll cover you.”

Vanessa had a gun. A legal one she’d checked at the airport. While she’d readily admitted that she hadn’t been in the field for a few years, she seemed to know what she was doing, so he left her to it and focused on Tina’s scent.

Even without the trail, he could have guessed where Tina was heading—he could see two burned-out streetlights ahead and a dark roadway that seemed to lead to a dead end. Only her trail entered the blind alley, though. That gave him pause, but he continued following the trail until—

A scent hit him so hard that he stopped in mid-stride. It was no stronger than Tina’s, but it felt like cold fingers reaching deep into his brain to pluck out a memory long buried.

“Malcolm,” he murmured.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he snapped, with more impatience than he intended.

“Sorry, but it’s been twenty years since you’ve been near him,” she said. “And you expected to smell him here, so—”

“Werewolves don’t forget Pack scents.” Nick walked to the building on the left. “He was on the roof. He jumped her. Then …” He followed Tina’s scent back to the road.

“He took her that way.” Vanessa pointed the direction they’d come.

Nick shook his head. “I only smell Tina.”

“She escaped?”

“No, he let her go.”

Vanessa walked back to the road and looked down it. “That’s not possible. She would have called as soon as she found a pay phone.”

“He didn’t release her. He let her run so he could chase.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s his idea of fun.”

Malcolm had let Tina run because it amused him, but Nick knew it was more than simple sport. Presumably there was no place nearby he’d deemed suitable to hold her and it had saved Malcolm the hassle of transporting her out of this neighborhood. It might be empty here, but there was life a few blocks over. Also, a quick capture lacked challenge.

As a trained agent, Tina wouldn’t flee to the authorities. With her ego, she’d be cursing herself for getting jumped. Also, Malcolm wouldn’t simply have released her—he’d have allowed her to “escape,” so she’d think she bested him. That would give her confidence. She’d want to repair her failure. To turn the tables and catch him. And all the while, he’d be herding her.

The trails confirmed Nick’s guess. They’d converge and separate, and he could see Malcolm driving her along a preordained path, one that funneled Tina where he wanted her to go, giving her few options to divert from the path and driving her back onto it when she did.