Bloodlines (44 page)

“You make it sound so simple,” Victor said dryly.

“That’s because it is. Okay, hit me, give me another problem, I bet you I can make it real simple for you.”

Victor wasn’t sure why he was still talking to this kid, but he had to admit, he’d been given some good perspectives so far. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to try for more. “All right. I’ve never been the marrying type. All my life I’ve seen married couples and their lives, and it seems so dull. There’s no excitement, no danger, no thrill.”

Dylan steepled his fingers. He had an easy look about him, soft features, but right then he looked to be concentrating hard. “Okay. Well, first of all, married life is what you make it, right? If you don’t want it to be dull, then do interesting stuff. And he’s a wolf, how boring can that really be? I know they’re not all
vampire
dangerous, but they’ve still got big teeth!”

Victor sighed to himself. “That sounds easy in theory but wrong in practicality.”

“What, so he’s boring?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Then you just have some kind of serious problem with the idea of settling down, man,” Dylan said sadly. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Victor supposed Dylan had hit the nail on the head there. The problem wasn’t Randall, it was his perception of how a married, settled life would look. He had been with David because the man would offer him the very opposite.

“I suppose I have a lot to think about,” Victor muttered. He’d only half finished his beer, and he had no real urge to drink the rest of it. Beer had never been his drink of choice anyway.

Dylan leaned over the table to pat him consolingly. “Well, you’ll never figure it out sitting in a bar. Hey, you said he’s a wolf, right? Does that mean he lives with the nearby pack?” Dylan brightened. “Phoenix is talking there on summer solstice. A few of us half bloods in the area have been invited.”

“Yes, that’s where I’m staying,” Victor replied, surprised. Phoenix, the half blood who was trying to rally the various supernatural groups together for solidarity, was speaking at a wolf gathering? He supposed Edwin would like that. He recalled Edwin being quite into his ideals.

“Cool,” Dylan said cheerfully. “I’ll see you there, then.”

Dylan was right—sitting in a bar wasn’t going to solve any of his problems. “Thank you for the advice,” Victor said politely. He rose to stand and held out his hand for Dylan. They shook. Dylan grinned at him.

“No problem, man,” Dylan said. “Anytime.”

Victor left. The cool air outside was a welcome touch against his overheated skin, and he remained for a moment outside the bar, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He took his time to get back to the van, contemplating everything they’d just talked about.

In the end, it seemed like he might have been overcomplicating things. He liked Randall, and in the present that was all that mattered. Victor was aware that he had a bad habit of living in the future, of weighing his actions in the present against the visions he had seen. But Randall had told him he should try living in the present, and perhaps that was some more advice that Victor should take.

He got back into the van and started driving home. His gaze caught on the book he’d placed in the passenger seat—P. G. Wodehouse. Victor needed to make some sort of gesture to show Randall that he did indeed reciprocate his feelings.

And he thought he might just have the perfect way to do so.

Jed

J
ED
DIDN
’
T
do fights. Not like this. He didn’t get involved in domestic shit, he didn’t have long hours of awkward silences, and he sure as fuck didn’t spend half a day working while pretending not to see Redford’s ridiculously upset face. That was why he’d always done one-night stands. They weren’t messy, they weren’t demanding. He didn’t even have to know the other guy’s name. And even if they were a repeat, it never
meant
anything. It was just sex.

Redford wasn’t
just
anything, though. Redford was the goddamn moon and the hook it hung on, and up until two weeks ago, Jed would have said they were doing just fine. Sure, Redford was having some issues. Sure, sometimes things got a little wolfy and Jed lost Redford for a bit. But Redford had always come back. And Jed just figured that was a side effect of Fil.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

This place, these wolves, none of them lost control. None of them woke up in the middle of the night desperate to get out and chase squirrels. None of them ripped the throats out of people and barely seemed aware afterward. Jed had thought he was helping. He’d thought they were fine.

He was pretty damn sure he was wrong.

And God, he wished they’d just gone fishing. He didn’t want to do this; he didn’t want to fight with Redford. He didn’t want all the things he
should
say to get stuck in his throat every damn time Redford looked at him.

It was his fault. He was part of the cage Redford lived inside, and it was
his fault
that Redford wasn’t happy. That he was cracking apart at the seams.

Redford was asleep beside him. They’d plotted and planned half the day yesterday about what they’d need to do if the Gray Lady decided to stay and fight. Redford had gone scouting so they could start work on a more accurate map of the pack’s territory. Jed had made phone calls for supplies. They’d acted like nothing was wrong. They’d acted so damn hard like everything was
fine
.

It wasn’t fine. Jed was fucking this whole thing up. From the day he’d met Redford, he’d just made the guy worse. All that time, Jed thought he was
saving
him. He thought he’d found Redford and Redford had found him, and, what, it was a goddamn fairy tale? He should have known better. Fairy tales, they weren’t real. And people like Jed were a cancer. They spread and they corrupted every damn thing they touched.

Redford had been so fucking
innocent
. He’d been good, genuinely good. And now he was killing. Now he was part of some fucking war.

It was Jed’s fault.

Sitting in bed, staring into nothing, Jed didn’t notice the time pass. The stars and the moon trailed faint gray light across the floor of the cabin, Redford rumbled a whimper in his sleep and curled farther into the covers, but Jed still didn’t move. At the first light of dawn, Redford shifted in his sleep again, but this time his eyes opened, automatically seeking out Jed.

Redford had never been a morning person. Unlike Jed, who had long trained himself to be up and alert immediately, Redford never liked waking up and moving out of bed. There had been many mornings where Jed had been tempted to let Redford sleep in, even when they had a job they’d needed to get to in an hour.

Now Redford just rubbed a hand over his eyes and rose, pushing the blankets aside. He kept glancing at Jed as he got dressed, shivering through the chill of the morning air until he’d wrapped himself in three layers. Then finally, when he was done, he said, “We should go get coffee.”

Jed had plans for the morning. He hadn’t anticipated Redford getting up at dawn. “You should go back to sleep,” he mumbled, voice an exhausted rasp. Scrubbing his hands across his face, Jed sighed. “It’s early. You can get a couple more hours in before anyone’s really up.”

Redford smiled slightly and spread his arms to show Jed the layers he was wearing. With a T-shirt, a light jacket, and a heavier jacket on top of that, Redford resembled a marshmallow. “I’m dressed, Jed. And I’m not going back to sleep in this, so we may as well go.”

“Redford,” Jed started. He didn’t want coffee. He didn’t want to sit at a goddamn table and pretend everything was
fine
anymore. Jed could only sit back and think about shit for so long. It was time he got some answers. And none of those answers would be found in Lassie’s cafeteria.

But then he looked over and caught Redford’s expression. That very stubborn, very determined look that silently said:
Jed, get your ass up off that bed because we are going to get coffee whether you like it or not
. Jed knew that look. It meant that any arguing Jed might do was simply wasted.

So, with another heaved exhale, Jed slid out of bed and tugged on his jeans, searching through his bag for a sweatshirt. “Fine,” he muttered, teeth clenched. “Coffee. Great.”

Redford made a little noise under his breath that Jed couldn’t discern, either irritated or acquiescent. Once Jed had gotten dressed, they left the cabin and walked silently toward the kitchens. Redford tugged the fake-furred collar of his heavy jacket up around his chin to ward against the cold before shoving his hands firmly in his pockets.

Jed hated how they were. He hated that he was so goddamn fucking
useless
he couldn’t even think of something to say. Over and over Jed nearly blurted something out, some desperate grasp at conversation or yet another apology. But every time he’d look over at Redford, and he’d just go mute.

There was something wild about Redford, Jed had thought that from the first time he’d met him, something so achingly beautiful, something strong and innocent and free. Something Jed both wanted to gather up and protect and wrap around himself like a shield. And everything in Jed, every fiber of him, only wanted to make Redford happy. To give him everything he deserved.

So why did he fuck it all up so badly? He’d shoved Redford into an apartment in the city. What kind of life was that for a wolf? What kind of person shoved something so beautiful in a cage? Jed was so goddamn selfish, he’d never even
thought
that the life he lived might not be what Redford needed. But now he saw, now he’d gotten example after fucking example of what a wolf should be. How could he possibly begin to make things right now?

The dining hall was nearly empty. Breakfast wasn’t out yet, but Jed could hear the clank of pans and the low hum of voices from the back. There was an enormous pot of coffee, though, and Jed poured himself a cup, finding a bottle of water for Redford and carrying both carefully toward a table in the corner.

On the way, he passed Anthony—he hadn’t even seen him there, tucked into a side table, out of the line of direct sight from the door. Anthony had both hands wrapped around an enormous mug, his shoulders hunched, head down so that his hair partially covered his face. When he looked up at them, though, he grinned. “Morning, guys. You’re up early.”

This was as good a table as any. Jed put Redford’s water down, slinging himself into one of the chairs and taking a long gulp of the coffee. “Yeah, well, someone got a hankering to go for a beverage he doesn’t actually drink.”

There was no response from Redford, and Anthony just lifted an eyebrow. The look he gave them was patiently amused, but there was a hint of concern there too. “Wolves tend to have more sensitive tastes than humans.” Anthony shrugged. “Ask Edwin why he never eats green vegetables. He keeps complaining that they’re too bitter.”

“It’s not the lack of coffee drinking I was….” Jed sighed. “Yeah. Never mind.” Another drink of coffee, then, just to have something to do with his hands. Jed was hunched over the table, jaw tight, too many thoughts in his head and not enough things he even remotely knew how to say. Looking at Redford was fucking painful right then. It was like staring into the face of every damn failure he’d ever had.

“So,” Anthony said brightly, clearly seeing the need for a change in topic, “I don’t actually know much about you two. When did you become mates?”

Blinking, Jed pulled his gaze up from contemplating his coffee. “Uh. You mean how long have we known each other? Isn’t
mates
more of a British slang thing?”

Anthony laughed. “No, I mean how long have you been mated to one another,” he clarified. “It’s obvious enough from your scents. They’re all over each other.”

Jed couldn’t help but look at Redford, who was giving Anthony nearly the same clueless look that Jed was. “Okay, explain it real slow for the dumb human,” Jed prompted, leaning back, gaze darting between the two of them. “Because I’m not following.”

Anthony frowned in complete confusion. “How can you not know what I’m talking about? Redford, you’re a wolf.”

Redford shrunk down in his seat. “Not really,” he mumbled. “I didn’t grow up like you guys, remember?” Jed had to bite back a very real urge to punch Anthony right in the throat for making Redford get that expression on his face.

“Right.” Anthony apparently had to take a moment to get his thoughts in line, because he took a breath, shook his head slightly, and peered at them in amusement. “Sorry. I’ll rephrase. How long have you been together?”

“Almost a year?” Jed tried to do the math in his head. “Something like that. So mates are, like, wolf boyfriends?” That kind of made sense, he guessed.

“Not really.” Anthony was looking at Redford more than Jed, still faintly confused. “I guess the better analogy would be marriage, but even more than that. I’m sure Randall could explain it a lot better than I could.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on there, tiger.” Jed gave a nervous half laugh, practically shoving his chair back as if to give himself distance from the
terrifying
m-word. “There’s not… we are
definitely
not married. I don’t think that is something you just want to be
saying
to people. You don’t… you can’t just throw that word out there, man, that’s not cool.”