Bloodlines (3 page)

“And Líadan means
gray lady
in old Gaelic,” Victor injected helpfully.

Now, Jed wasn’t much good at math. But even he knew that anyone claiming to have started the whole wolf line was getting far more than the senior’s discount at Denny’s. “That’s impossible,” he told them both bluntly. “It’s a scam, or someone who just really likes the name. But what you’re saying is that—”

“What I’m saying,” Randall interjected mildly, “is that we are not human. And our lifespans are not yours. It’s impossible for you, yes, but I think you’d agree that the world is rather a lot bigger than what you’re assuming.”

Baby goddamn Jesus. Jed sat then, trying to wrap his brain around everything. So, vampires were real, they didn’t die with garlic or silver knives, crazy ass wolves
did
die with silver knives, and both of them apparently could live forever. That was kind of a lot more than he’d been ready to handle today. Or ever.

“You’re quiet, babe,” he murmured, nudging Redford with his foot. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

“Just absorbing new information,” Redford said lowly. He nudged Jed’s knee with his own, a silent
let Randall keep talking
.

“I apologize,” Randall was saying, a frown pinching the corners of his lips. “This is a lot, I know. If I had anywhere else to go, I would.”

“The history lesson is fascinating and all, but I’m still missing the part where you need to involve Red,” Jed said gruffly, eyes still on Redford.

“Ah. Yes.” Randall shifted a bit, leaning forward. “I need to get help for Anthony. I need to get him back to the pack. The problem is, I don’t think the Gray Lady will let us in, because our parents left. There are rumors, though, that she is gathering up the remnants of Filtiarn’s pack, giving them refuge. While she won’t talk to me, I know she will talk to you. And you can be our ticket in to see her.”

Redford shifted slightly, and Jed took care not to say anything to interrupt—the guy needed at least two seconds of silence to indicate that it was okay for him to talk. “Earlier, you said you’d explain why you couldn’t take Anthony to a hospital,” Redford pointed out. “That’s where most people go when they’re dying, isn’t it?”

“Redford,” Randall started softly, before fading off into a sigh. “We’re not people,” he pointed out, deep-brown eyes flicking up to Redford before falling again. “Anthony has signs of Parkinson’s disease. The canine version.”

Oh. Well, yeah, that probably would be fucking difficult to explain to your average Doogie Howser. Jed snorted softly, but he didn’t speak. He just reached out to take Redford’s hand, a silent show of support. This was his gig, his play. Jed was going to let him decide what they did.

“So you want a ticket into the Gray Lady’s pack,” Redford said. “Because they have a hospital there for them? Or because you think they’ll know what to do?”

Randall fidgeted a bit, hands fiddling with the side seam of his pants before he deliberately folded them together, trying to maintain his composure. “We weren’t raised in that pack,” he explained. “Some years after our parents left the pack, they were killed by hunters, when I was young. Anthony took care of us. I don’t know how to help him, what to do, if this is curable, anything. I’m only sure that a human hospital would be a death sentence. If I can just speak to the Gray Lady, if I can plead our case, I know I can make her understand and I can get information on how to help Anthony. But I need to be let into the pack in order to do so. That’s what I need you for.”

Randall fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a white envelope. It looked rather anemic from where Jed was sitting. “This is everything I have. It’s not much, but I can figure out how to get more. Please.” Randall’s gaze was on Redford’s face, begging. This wasn’t a guy trying to pull one over on them. He genuinely thought he was pleading for his brother’s life. “Just tell me how much more you need and I’ll find a way. I promise.”

Redford had a thoughtful look as he studied the envelope. “Actually,” he remarked, “I don’t think there’d even be a budget on this one. It’s not like we need supplies or ammo or—”

“But the retainer fee,” Jed jumped in smoothly, shooting Redford a wide-eyed
what are you doing
look. They did not work for free. Ever. That was practically rule number one. “Half up front. Figure two days’ work at five thousand a day.”

“Really, Jed?” Victor gave him a withering look. “Randall is not exactly swimming in money.”

Randall’s cheeks flushed at that, his shoulders bunching up in shame. “I’m fine, Victor,” he said shortly, pulling himself up to his full height as he searched his pockets. He was a proud guy, though apparently Victor didn’t get that. “I, uh, have half of your required fee there. I can get more. There’s some things I can sell. I only require time.”

“No, that’s ridiculous,” Victor said firmly. “You are not selling your possessions. Journey Walker, you give Randall a discount, and you give it to him
right now
.”

“Victor,” Randall snapped, eyes darkening. “I am not a charity case. This is what it will cost, and I’ll pay it. I don’t need favors. You’ve all saved my life once. I’m hardly going to
beg
.”

“Um.” Redford tried to cut in, his shoulders a little hunched at the raised voices flying around the room. “We can knock off a thousand per day, because we won’t be needing things like explosives or a place to stay. If we go, we’ll be able to stay with the pack, right?” He looked like the idea terrified him a little, but he stood firm, trying to mediate the argument and make things easier for Randall all at once.

“That’s what you think,” Jed sighed, staring up at the ceiling, twirling a pen between his fingers. In his experience, there was
always
a need for explosives. But he relented, cutting a glance over at Randall. “Fine. I’ll waive my normal rate. Redford can decide how much he wants to charge. It’s his job; he’s the boss.” Jed clambered to his feet, dropping a kiss to the top of Redford’s head. “You set the fee, babe, and get half. I’m going to make some coffee.”

“I’m the boss?” Redford looked even more terrified at that.

“Damn straight.” Jed paused in the doorway to the kitchen to give him a positively wicked leer. “Don’t worry. We’ll practice tonight in bed. Start thinking of all those orders you want to give me.” With one last wink, he moved to start up the coffeepot, leaving Redford to finish the negotiations.

For a while now, Redford had been doing the business side of things—budgets and invoicing and keeping the books. All shit Jed was terrible at. As much as Jed didn’t really like this job, it was Redford’s. He got to take point. Normally, giving up his control would send Jed into fits, but this was for Redford. It’d be good for him, to plan his own op, to be the one calling the shots. It might just show him what Jed had known for a while: Redford was smart and capable and more than ready to do something on his own.

Also, it was hot as hell. So basically this was a win-win.

“We’ll take the job,” he heard Redford say. “I’ll need a few minutes to figure out the budget, and I’ll need information like where we’re going and what we’re expected to do.” Redford paused and added, a little defensively, as if he expected to be denied, “Jed is coming too. I’m not doing a job without him.”

A smile crept across Jed’s face, and he ducked his head, fussing with the mugs. Maybe that was predictable. Still nice to hear, though.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Randall was saying, and Jed came back around the corner to find Randall holding out his hand for Redford to shake. “Why don’t you come to our house tomorrow night? That will give you and Mr. Walker time to discuss matters, and you can prepare your proposal. We can talk over details then. I’m afraid I don’t know the location of the pack offhand, but there are a few different ways you might go about getting that information.”

Redford looked surprised. “It’s that well hidden? How big is the pack, do you know?”

Shrugging, Randall absently pushed his glasses farther up onto his nose. “I honestly have no idea. Could be dozens. Could be hundreds. Liadan is notoriously secretive, and the pack’s location is jealously guarded. There are other, smaller packs, obviously, but if anyone will know how to help Anthony, it will be her.”

He
hoped
. That subtext was miles deep. Putting your hopes into some possibly mummified old chick with a dubious background and no real info was, in Jed’s mind, just begging to be let down. But rule number three was
don’t goddamn argue with the basic premise of the hire
. If someone wanted Jed to stand guard over a pile of
dirt
, for enough cash, he’d do it. Same went here. So what if this was probably a fool’s errand. If Redford wanted to take the job, Jed sure as hell wasn’t going to point it out.

“Okay.” Redford nodded, beginning to look a bit more confident about the prospect of leading a job. “Is Victor coming too?”

“I’m sure Victor has far more important things to do.” Kicking back on the couch, giving Victor a shit-eating grin, Jed lifted his mug of coffee in salute. “What was it, princess? Lucky night at the senior home?”

Victor didn’t seem to get the joke. “I’ll thank you not to pry into my personal life, Jed,” he replied. “It’s not particularly pertinent right now.”

“I mean, I am
assuming
you wore his clothes this morning by mistake. Because even you can’t think that a plaid jacket is anything but tragic.” Jed smirked widely. “Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t do a little bump and run last night. I can see it all over you.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Victor rolled his eyes heavenward, as if asking for patience. “Fine. Yes, I had sex last night with a man whose name I don’t recall. It was satisfactory. Are you done?”

Jed gave Victor a golf clap, wiping away a fake tear of pride. “Our little baby’s all grown up,” he told Redford, voice teasingly thick. “I just… get the camera. I want to make sure we remember this moment.” At Victor’s withering look, Jed couldn’t stop the laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. Now that I will have to brain-bleach tonight for any hope of a nightmareless sleep, we hauling your ass out to wolf-ville with us or not?”

“I would like to go,” Victor said carefully. “If you’re okay with that, Randall, of course. I’m well aware that I wouldn’t be terribly helpful, but I’d like to go nonetheless.”

“No, that sounds perfectly acceptable,” Randall assured him, nodding, struggling to look completely uninterested. “If you don’t mind making the trip. Our house is about an hour outside of the city, rather out of the way. I can give you directions. If you’d like, you could join us for dinner?” A very slight smile touched the corners of his lips. “Anthony makes a mean rabbit stew.”

Victor’s eyebrows had lifted in surprise. Jed thought the guy probably didn’t get invited to social gatherings very often. Then again, neither did Jed. Of course, one was because Victor was a stuffy, boring stick, and the other was obviously because Jed’s good looks and charm scared people off. “That would be lovely,” Victor replied. “I’ve never had rabbit stew.”

There was a strange
softness
in Randall’s smile. He directed it all toward Victor, as if he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. “Of course. I know my brothers will be very happy to meet you.” Jed cleared his throat, and Randall immediately turned to include him and Redford, flustered. “All of you, of course. Ah, let me just write out the directions and I’ll be going. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

Once Randall had completed a map, Redford studied the offered directions closely and handed them over to Jed. It seemed easy enough. Over the river and through the woods and all that shit, but they’d find it just fine. “We’ll be there at six,” Jed decided, clapping Victor on the shoulder. “The professor is buying the gas. Don’t be late, princess. I know how you like to primp.”

“Are we carpooling?” Victor looked completely unamused at the prospect. “Do you not trust me to drive myself? Or are you just incapable of bearing the thought that I may be in control of my own car?”

Jed blinked at him. “I just want you to buy the gas. You can strap yourself to the hood for all I care.”

“As long as you hold off on the drive shaft jokes,” Victor sighed.

“Jed is very good at restraint,” Redford assured him. Which immediately killed the five jokes Jed had at the ready.

“Well then, I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Randall nodded, moving toward the door. “And Mr. Reed—” Randall paused, reaching out to very lightly touch his hand to Redford’s arm. “—thank you. For listening to me.” He nodded at them all, holding the door open for Victor, who was following him out. Victor gave Jed an indiscernible look as he left, something that might have had gratitude buried deep in the expression.

Randall’s hand hovered behind Victor, almost as if he was going to rest his fingertips on the small of the man’s back. But he lost his nerve, hand falling away, and the two of them walked down the hallway, separate and removed.

Redford closed the door behind them. He looked utterly pleased with himself at handling the talk of his first job so well, but as he looked at Jed, that beaming smile slowly dimmed into guilt. “I just ruined your fishing trip,” Redford realized. “You planned it for so long and you were so excited and I just took a job and I’m horrible.”

Looking around them, at the clothes and supplies strewn about, Knievel asleep on top of Redford’s pink life vest, Jed shrugged. “It’s just a vacation, Fido,” he reminded Redford gently. He reached out, taking Redford’s hand and tugging the man in close. “It doesn’t really matter.”

And it didn’t. It might have, before. The idea of a fishing trip, of sun and sand and water and zero responsibilities, had been kind of a talisman to Jed for a long time. It was the idealized version of what Jed kept promising himself, of the
good life
, of relaxation and weeks spent away from his normal life. But it seemed kind of empty now, if he didn’t have Redford in the picture too. The vacation had become a getaway, the solitude had become time spent with just the two of them, and Jed figured he didn’t need a beach right now to have that.