Page 19 of Malcolm

The next morning he’d watched the sun hit her right across the bridge of her nose. The tattoos that decorated her face when she was awake weren’t there, and he could see her unmarred toffee-colored skin beneath. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, her nose was slightly wide, and her bottom lip poked out a bit, but those traits were beautiful because they were a part of her.

When he thought of his father and mother, he couldn’t help wondering if this was how his father felt every time he looked at his mother. His memory of them had grown fuzzy, iced over by the last time his father had spoken to him.

“You’ve killed your sister’s mate,” his father cursed, his expression hard. “Do you not care what happens to her?” He demanded. The death of one’s mate was a curse. The mated werewolf would live their lives as half a person.

“It was him who ignored my words,” he said. His head lowered as the rain fell. He couldn’t feel anything, only the numb realization that he’d done something he couldn’t take back. “It had to be done.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” his father spat.

“I did what you were too afraid to do,” he shouted. “You and the elders allowed Damon to continue beating her and shaming her before our people, before the clan. I held my anger and rage in for years in respect of you and our ways. I pretended not to hear her screams of pain. And no matter how many bruises appeared, I, along with the rest of you, ignored her silent cries for help. I am no better than the rest of you who never moved to help her. So, I finally decided to make a move and do what none of you could. Not one of you.”

He widened his gaze, daring any of their clan to speak, “Not one.” He returned his gaze to his father, torn expression. “You’ve no right to judge me. I demanded a challenge, and he ran from it, so I chased him down and ended him and his evil.”

His father's expression tightened. “Fine, then I’ll do what needs to be done.” He left, and when he returned, he returned with Tiller and his man.

“Hello, flyers. We’d like to announce that we will land in Nashville in just 20 minutes.”

The flight attendant's voice pulled him from past memories. Shifting, he turned his attention to Eliza, who released a lowgroan and picked her head up, staring blearily at him before looking around him. She pulled away, releasing a slight cough, “Right, we’re were flying.”

“We’re about to land soon.”

She nodded, rubbing at her cheek, her eyes still half closed. She smacked her lips together. “How exactly are we getting to this place?”

He smiled, letting the mischief show in his eyes. “I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

Her brow creased. “Hm, I doubt it. Actually, I don’t think I’ve left Veil City much since I was brought there by Lanias.”

He chuckled. “Everyone knows how to get to the other side of the veil.”

She opened her eyes, shooting him a confused look. Malcolm shook his head; he couldn’t wait to show her.

“You’ve gotto be kidding me.”

Eliza exclaimed, looking from the blank wall to him. She settled her hands on her hips. “You’re joking.”

“I am not,” he said, pushing their basket that held their luggage towards the door. We must go through this wall to get to our transportation on the other side.”

“Tell me you guys didn’t rip off that book off,” she said, following behind him as he made his way along with a few others toward the wall. “I wonder how much copyright fees you must pay her.”

Malcolm scoffed. “Why do you think we took it from her?” he asked, just as their bodies were swallowed up by the wall. “She pays us, but last I heard they’re raising the fees cause of some things she said in the human world.”

Eliza snorted, shoved her hands in her pockets, and released a whistle as she looked at the bullet train with its sleek white exterior and fancy uniformed attendants. A few people hung out in the waiting area of Starbucks, focused on their laptops, while other small stores ran along the wall occupied by other travelers.

“Well, this is definitely better than a locomotive,” Malcolm said, feeling pleased; they had taken the human plane to not draw attention, but it was also nice to see Eliza's eyes light up. She hadn’t even realized she kept closing the distance between them as they walked towards one of the attendants in the light blue uniforms with a red hat that was tilted just so. A feather pinned to the corner of the hat completed the look.

“Do you hear that?” she asked, whipping her head towards him, her face aglow.

“Hear what?” he asked.

She blinked and pointed at him. “That, you’re country accent.”

He blinked. “My accent?” He smiled. “I didn’t think I ever lost it.

“No, I mean,” she said, staring up at him in fascination. “It’s, like, more pronounced. It’s cool.”

Well, he hoped so. Malcolm had been away from home for a long time and hadn’t realized his accent had lost some of its tone. He had always considered himself a country boy, but the idea that he’d changed so much that he’d nearly lost his voice disturbed him a bit.

“All boarding should come to the yellow line,” a voice announced over the speaker.

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