Burn(65)

“I told you,” Malcolm said again, still calm. “I was never going to kill him.” He looked down into the sheriff’s eyes, staring hard.

“What are you doing?” Sheriff Kelby asked.

“I told you not to speak,” Malcolm said.

“What are you doing, young man?” Mr. Inagawa said, holding a napkin Darlene had handed him to his nose.

“Some men are dragon underneath,” Malcolm said. “If you just scratch the surface.”

Deep, deep, deep in the eyes of the sheriff, Malcolm saw cowardice, and he saw greed. He saw a fire that burned but stung, a fire like a rash on this man’s soul. This man was a dragon, in all his fiery yearning, but he would never know. Because he would never know, and because his heart was so clearly a twisted knot of hate and injustice, he would never have a satisfied moment for as long as he lived.

“You’re corrupted,” Malcolm said to the sheriff. “Right at your heart.”

The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “You know what, boy?” he said, growling a little at what must have been tremendous pain in his wrist. Malcolm could at least admire the strength, even if it was directed in such warped ways. “You’d better kill me.” The sheriff licked sweat off his lip. “Because if you don’t, I will be after you. I know how to do a lot of things to wreck every last breath you will take on this earth.”

“See?” Jason said. “We have to kill him.”

“You hush that talk right now,” Darlene said, as Jason’s father said very much the same thing.

“You think he’s just going to let us go?” Jason asked.

Malcolm saw the looks pass around the room, saw real fear there. Kazimir was still looking wonderingly at Malcolm, but it was Sarah who was firm and clear. “Absolutely not,” she said. “I’ve been here before, and I will not do it again.”

“Nor I,” Malcolm said, “as I’ve said a number of times.”

“Then you’re screwed,” Sheriff Kelby said, smirking again. “You are well and truly fucked, boy.”

“My name isn’t boy,” Malcolm said. “My name . . .” he found himself unable to suppress a smile “ . . . is Agent Woolf.”

Sheriff Kelby gave him a surprised look.

“Do you honestly think an actual teenage boy could have disarmed you so easily? That these blades at your throat are standard issue in your public schools?”

Malcolm glanced up. Darlene, Hisao, and Jason were staring at him again. So were Sarah and Kazimir, but in a different way. The lie was so brazen he was amazed it wasn’t written all over his face, but when he looked back down at the sheriff, he saw eyes starting to believe.

“I and my associates”—he nodded at Sarah and Kazimir—“are here under deep cover in relation to what you think you saw flying from this farm.”

“I don’t believe you—”

In a swift, practiced motion, Malcolm repositioned his knees so that one now rested just below the broken wrist. The sheriff cried out. “I can increase the pain,” Malcolm said, doing so with a press from his knee, “or I can decrease it.” He did this as well. “Does this, to you, seem like the abilities of a boy, Sheriff?”

The sheriff turned his face to the rest of the room, as if making an appeal, but even he had to know how little purchase he would find there. He turned back to Malcolm. “No,” he said, grudgingly.

“Your deeply misguided actions here, Sheriff,” Malcolm continued, “have imperiled our mission. We normally like to work with local law enforcement . . .” He stumbled a bit as his mind filled with the image of the Mountie falling, bloody, to the frozen ground. “But we can just as easily make your lives very, very difficult. Is that what you want?”

Sheriff Kelby didn’t reply. Malcolm applied more pressure to his wrist. Sheriff Kelby screamed and said, “No! No.”

“And you won’t tell anyone what you saw here?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your word, Sheriff?” Malcolm pressed the wrist again.

“You can put us under surveillance!” Kelby cried out.

“You already are,” Malcolm lied.

Kelby looked horrified at that. For the first time, Malcolm realized, he also looked properly afraid. He wondered if it would drive the man to murder. Or if it already had.

“If you breathe one word of this,” Malcolm continued, “just one, I’ll see you locked up.” He pressed on the wrist again. “Or perhaps worse, if you catch me on a bad day.”

Sheriff Kelby bit back his cry of pain. “Why didn’t you say all that when I walked in?” he grunted out.

“Because I could tell a man like you only responds to force.”

Kelby seemed to accept that. After a moment, Malcolm resheathed the blades and slowly took his weight off. Kelby held his wrist close to his chest and scooted back toward the door. He glanced at Darlene. “You’re telling me these people are in on it, too?” he asked Malcolm.

“You said yourself it started from her farm.”

Kelby reached the door and used it to pull himself up, never turning his back on the group. He looked like he wanted to say many, many things, but ultimately decided to leave without saying any. He slammed the door behind him. Hisao got up from the floor and started heading that way.