Chapter 30: *CHAPTER 30*

Another murder victim with missing body parts.

Guilt swarmed me. I'd been so consumed with the magic wreaking havoc on my own life that I hadn't remembered poor George's murderer was still out there. Had used his body for some sort of sick ploy to gain power and now only a few short days later had done it to another.

That guilt followed me as I had a quiet dinner with Caleb and Jenna—grim expressions on their faces when I told them Malcolm had another murder to investigate. The guilt followed me as I lugged the textbooks Richard had lent to me up to my borrowed room, and hung heavy over my head as I stared down at the textbooks, freshly showered and with blurring eyes trying to make sense of the words on the page in front of me.

I tried not to think of the haunting images that were burned into the back of my eyelids, instead, willed myself to focus on the pages in front of me. I stayed awake much later than I should have, the quiet strumming of Caleb's guitar two rooms down keeping me company as I read, the house slowly going quieter as the guitar got put away and the Pembroke's drifted off to sleep.

I texted Lauren and Matt like I promised I would, letting them know I was okay. Matt never responded and I tried to not let it bother me, but it did. I worried over my bottom lip trying to think of what I could say to make the situation better between us, but the longer I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. My old life and new life were stitched and held together by little white lies these days. I wondered how long those stitches would hold.

As I was brushing my teeth, and getting settled in for the night, a clawing sound reached me from my bedroom door. I turned off the sink, I shuffled over to my bedroom door to listen as the scratching came again. When I cracked open my bedroom door to check the sounds of the scratching, my legs were shoved out of the way as a giant hurry hellhound, and a graying cat barreled into my room.

In my shock, all I could do was blink at them as they pranced over to the corner of my room, circling the space before slinking to the ground. They looked at me so happily, I didn't have the heart to send them back out into the hall.

I blew a piece of hair out of my face, "Alright, I guess you two can stay."

I don't know when Winnie and Mrs. Nisbitt had become friendly with each other, but I watched as they curled into each other, in the corner near the window seat, and were snoring loudly by the time I'd turned off the lamp and crawled beneath the covers of my bed.

I was staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to Winnie's heavy breathing when I heard the sound of tires in the driveway, headlights flashing through my window before going off. Not long later, a door closed downstairs and there was a soft trail of footsteps past my bedroom. The door across from mine closed.

I knew I was tired when the memory of Malcolm's tired face from earlier in the truck flashed across my mind. Exhaustion was the only explanation for the worry that gnawed at me. Worry for Malcolm of all people. Even knowing it was crazy, didn't stop me from wondering if I should cross the hallway and check on him—make sure he was okay after going over another murder. Maybe another person he knew.

I chewed over it for a few long minutes before I finally thought better of it. He probably wouldn't take kindly to me badgering him with questions. Probably glare at me some more. Shaking my head I shoved away the thoughts, and the worry, and turned over in my bed, shoving my face into one of the ultra-soft pillows that made up the guest bedroom. I don’t know how long I tossed and turned in my bed unable to sleep.

The Bond connecting Malcolm and me was tugging strongly enough that I finally sat up with a long sigh, giving in. I padded softly across the guest room’s plush carpet, quiet enough to not wake the pile of animals in the corner, Winston’s soft snores made my lips tip up in a smile. He and Mrs. Nisbitt were cuddled together.

The most unlikely pair of friends I could think of, but they’d been inseparable since I’d gotten home earlier. The hallways were dark as I cracked open the door to peek into the hallway. I’d never bothered to learn which door belonged to Malcolm, but the Bond was an insistent enough pull that I simply knew where he was. There was still a dim glow of light peeking beneath the door across the hallway from my own. I hesitated only a brief moment before knocking on the door. I took the low grunt from inside as much of a welcome as I would get and I twisted open the door knob.

The room was similar to my own—large bed, clean white colors, twin pairs of beautiful lamps on the bedside tables. The only thing that was really different was that Malcolm sat on the bed. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. He sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, his golden skin glowing in the low lamp light. He was wrapped in a towel, hair damp from a recent shower. The sight of all of those exposed ridges and hard muscles had my mouth going dry.

He peeked in my direction as I stepped into the room. He was wearing glasses. Glasses. They were thick rimmed—fashionable. Something about that simple sight had my stomach tightening with heat. Malcolm without glasses was attractive enough, Malcolm with glasses, hair rumpled from his shower, looked downright decadent.

I realized too late that I was gawking. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Heat rushed to my face and I hurriedly cleared my throat, closing the door behind me as I stepped more fully into his room, “I heard you get back, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“You came to check on me?” There was surprise in his voice.

I didn’t think my blush could get any hotter but it did, cheeks suddenly on fire, “Yeah, I guess I did. Don’t get used to it.”

He snorted, turning back to whatever he was doing, “Everything’s fine.” I watched his long fingers open one of Jenna’s tubes of healing ointment, lifting his arm to see the damage along a jagged gash I hadn’t noticed before—too distracted by the expansive muscles on display.

I sucked in a breath at the sharp cuts marring his perfect skin, “What happened?”