Bloodlines (6 page)

“You’re always welcome here,” Randall ventured, though his head was bowed over the bowls as he ladled up the stew. “I mean, we take turns cooking, and there’s usually something edible around.” His gaze cut over to Victor quickly, before he determinedly looked away again. “After all, I owe you quite a bit more than a simple dinner.”

“Oh no, you don’t owe me anything,” Victor replied, looking startled but pleased at the offer of further dinners. “You have Jed to thank for your rescue in Cairo and Redford for helping here. I’m merely tagging along, though I do hope to be helpful.”

“Jed and Redford are more than happy to accept dinner in trade for lifesaving.” Jed waved Randall off. “In fact, if you get me another beer, I’ll say we’re even.” He’d rather have a simple meal than a bunch of thanks he didn’t know what to do with, any day.

They took their seats. Jed held out Redford’s for him and claimed the chair next to him. Edwin easily took the bowl from Anthony, almost seeming as though the gesture meant nothing. He and Randall got Anthony’s food ready, filled up his glass, all without missing a beat or appearing like they were even deliberately helping him. It was a choreographed dance between people who didn’t want to acknowledge why they were doing what they did.

Anthony took a few moments to encourage everybody to put more on their plates than what was really necessary, making sure they had enough to drink, fussing over bread. Jed noticed that he subtly switched out his bread plate for Edwin’s, giving the larger slice to his brother. He did much the same thing with his bowl of stew and Victor’s, like it was ingrained in him to make sure everyone else had enough before he let himself relax into his own place.

“Well, before we get started,” Victor said, lifting his glass, “may I propose a toast? To working together, and to hopefully finding a solution.” His gaze went to Randall, a reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “With Jed and Redford on your side, I’ve no doubt they’ll find a way.”

Jed laid his hand over his heart as he raised his beer. “Was that a vote of confidence? Professor, I’m touched.” He mimed wiping away tears, sniffing loudly. “God, and I didn’t get you anything. Red, remind me to stop at the pocket protector store on the way home. Victor deserves something pretty.”

Victor looked thoroughly unamused. “As an addendum,” he continued, as if unaware that Jed had spoken, “I apologize for any explosion, property destruction, or loss of limbs. All three regularly happen in Jed’s vicinity.”

At that, Jed laughed genuinely, leaning over the table to clink his bottle against Victor’s glass. “Now that I’ll drink to,” he said, giving the man a grin. “And to the professor. If we play our cards right, he might just use that big brain of his for good instead of putting me to sleep.”

“Cheers,” Randall said with a sideways little smile, raising his glass. Everyone else followed suit, and they settled down to eat.

The rabbit stew was fucking fantastic. Jed had eaten some weird shit in his life—once, while embedded in Cambodia, he’d eaten roaches the size of his fist off of where they were crawling all over him after his rations ran out—but this was less
well, it’s eating this or my own foot
and more just plain delicious. “Goddamn, this is great,” he enthused, reaching for a second helping, sopping up the last drops in his bowl with the bread. “Seriously, holy shit.”

Beside him, Redford gave a low laugh and nudged Jed in the side. Yeah, okay, Jed was well aware that he said the same thing every time Redford cooked. But come on, they’d taken a bunch of nothing, and now it was something way better than frozen chicken patties. That was like a form of magic in Jed’s book. Forget water to wine, this shit was the real miracle. Besides, he was more of a beer guy anyway, and no holy son of God had ever made a decent brew.

“I suppose we may as well get down to business,” Anthony said, leaning back in his chair as Edwin reached over in front of him for more bread. “The first thing we’ll have to do is find the Gray Lady’s pack.”

“Which might be easier said than done,” Randall said, offering Victor more stew with a hopeful little look, which Victor returned by happily handing his bowl over. “We’re going to need to find a place where people will be willing to talk about such things.”

“And where would that be?” Redford piped up. “Do you know of any places like that, Jed?”

“Oh, yeah, me and the Easter Bunny were hanging out just last weekend.” Jed snorted quietly, giving Redford an apologetic wince. “I’m kind of thinking my contacts are going to be about as worthless as tits at a bathhouse.”

“You could go to Murry’s Bar,” Edwin offered, stealing the spoon from Jed to dish himself up yet more stew. “There’s always a bunch of naturals hanging around there.” Catching Anthony’s look, Edwin immediately tried for an innocent expression. “Not that I’ve ever been there! I just heard. You know, from other people.”

“Naturals?” Bewildered, Jed frowned around at the rest of the group. “What the hell does that mean?”

Randall sighed, slipping off his glasses to clean them on a corner of his shirt. “It’s a rather crude slang expression that ought not to be used. It means other than human. The supernatural community, if you will, though generally we don’t have a universal name for the differing groups of us. Those that use the term
natural
are arguing that we are the normal ones. It’s humans that should be considered others.”

“Supernatural….” Jed trailed off, eyebrows raised. This was a fucking weird conversation. He was half expecting someone to come out with a herald and a trumpet and hand him the Sword of Destiny or some shit.

“Werewolves, vampires, half bloods,” Anthony clarified, giving Edwin another suspicious look. “And who exactly did you hear this from?”

“Oh, you know,” Edwin said, carefully not meeting Anthony’s eyes. “Just around. Hey, you should totally go!” He changed the topic swiftly, turning to look at Redford. “You’d definitely get in. They just have a couple of wolves at the door that sniff you to make sure you’re not a preter or anything.”

“Edwin,” Randall barked sharply, eyes narrowing. But instead of continuing, he just looked to Anthony, as if awaiting his mediation.

Jed and Redford shared twin looks of utter confusion. “Preter?” Jed asked. “Maybe slow down the crazy talk around the uninitiated. What the hell is that?” It sounded like a slur against penises.

“It’s more slang.” Anthony smacked Edwin on the shoulder as a rebuke. “Only this time it’s pretty rude. Preternatural is what
some
call regular humans. You know,
other than
natural. It’s not something any of us should be saying, not in this household. Edwin, seriously, we have a human sitting right here at the table. Can you curb the racial insults?”

“And it’s less than polite in mixed company, even if you choose to use it in private,” Randall muttered, shaking his head.

Jed shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Hey, I’m just…. I mean, come on, I’m not different.”

Except yes, he was. He was wildly different. He was part of a whole different
race
, and apparently all the things that went bump in the night got together and voted him out of the clubhouse.

Jed sagged back in his chair. Edwin looked abashed, murmuring, “I’m sorry,” but Jed waved it off.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I scratched your ears and saw your ass. In some cultures, we’d be married.”

Anthony just shook his head. “In any case, Edwin’s suggestion was a good one. If anybody’s going to know where the Gray Lady’s pack is, we might find them in there. Although I think he and I should have a discussion about the people he hangs out with.”

“I’ll go,” Redford said. “You said that she’s looking for the remains of Filtiarn’s pack. If anybody has information, they’ll know she’s looking for people like me.” He hesitated, eyes darting over at Jed. “But, um. I guess Jed can’t go?”

“Fuck that nun, I’m going,” Jed said, arms folded, jaw jutted out stubbornly. “You go, I go, babe. That’s how this works. We’re partners, remember?” And like hell was Jed letting Redford walk in anywhere he hadn’t vetted first. God only knew what kind of shit might go down, and Jed wasn’t going to leave him without someone to watch his back. And his front. And all side portions of him.

“I
want
you to be there, but if this is a bar where wolves and vampires and everybody else hang out, it might not be… well, Edwin says they sniff out humans.” Redford looked apologetic. “You might not even get past the front door.”

“He could go if he’s escorted,” Edwin said, sighing heavily at the looks his brothers gave him. “I didn’t say I
agreed
with that option. I’m just saying, sometimes naturals bring their preter in. They have to be under control and stuff. I even think they use leashes sometimes. The vampires at least.” A pause, and then, very unconvincingly, “So I’ve heard from people who I have no real association with.”

“Edwin,
how
do you know this?” Anthony looked appalled. “Please don’t tell me you’ve ever done that.”

“Ew, no.” Edwin wrinkled his nose. “Collars are gross. I just… have friends who told me.” His voice went up at the end, an overly innocent look affected, as if that was going to make Anthony stop pinning him to the chair with an expression that brought to mind a patient bulldog.

“Which friends?” Randall said dryly. “I wasn’t aware that your reflection counted.”

“Shut up. I have friends.” Edwin rolled his eyes at Randall. But, fidgeting guiltily under Anthony’s glower, Edwin finally sighed and admitted, “I went last week to hear someone speak at Murry’s. It was a lecture. Educational, even!”

“Who would you hear speak at that place?” Anthony folded his arms. “It’s a
bar
, Ed.”

“A guy called Phoenix.” Once again Edwin tried for the guileless uptick of his tone at the end before apparently giving in and simply shrugging. “He’s doing all these rallies around lately. I saw a poster for it and went to check it out. He talks a lot about preters… um, humans and their relationships to naturals. Um. Us.”

“You and I are going to have a
very
long talk later,” Anthony threatened. He looked apologetic as he turned back to Jed and Redford. “Would you be okay going there? It sounds like there might be information to be found.”

Jed smirked. “Nah, that sounds like just my kind of scene. Count me in. I’ll provide my own leather pants.”

“What? No, we’re not doing that,” Redford yelped, horrified. “I am not putting you on a
leash
or anything. That’s degrading.”

Reaching out, Jed took his hand, holding it between both of his. “It’s a cover, Fido,” he reminded Redford. “I’m just there to back you up. A collar’s an accessory, is all.” He grinned, a flash of amusement crossing his face. “Not the first time I’ve worn one.” Though probably in this instance he wouldn’t be calling anyone
Daddy
.

Redford was still clearly not happy with the idea, but not protesting in horror anymore. “I just don’t like the thought of you in a stupid collar,” he muttered.

Jed’s smile faltered.

The cage. The goddamn
basement
. And here Jed was throwing that shit around like Redford wasn’t still that scared kid, tied up and thrown away by the one person who was supposed to take care of him.

His whole face crumpling in guilt, Jed wondered if he could beat his head against the wall. Probably would be rude to do that to someone else’s walls, and God knew his thick skull would break something. Goddamn, he was so stupid it was a wonder he kept breathing without hurting himself somehow. Immediately, Jed gathered Redford into his arms, kissing his shoulder in penance. “It’s not going to be like that,” he murmured. “No collar. No leash. Not if you don’t want it, not for either of us. I’ll just go and let you do the talking.” Jed tried for a little smile, not quite making it. “I can be real quiet. Subtle, even. Like a mouse.”

That, at least, made Redford smile. “No, you really can’t.”

“I wasn’t aware mice used such copious amounts of explosives,” Victor hummed, peering over the tops of his glasses. “How unusual.”

“Fuck you all,” Jed responded, but more cheerfully, only really caring that he’d pulled a smile from Redford. Turning to the Lewises, he nodded. “We’ll get the info and then give you a call.” Jed hesitated, glancing over at Redford. “And….” Fuck. Being second in command after all this time alone was not the easiest thing in the world. Popping up out of his chair, Jed bustled about, clearing dishes. “Redford, why don’t you talk details or whatever you need. It’s your job. I’m just here as a silent and extremely good-looking shadow.”

Jed made his way into the kitchen after loading himself up with bowls and cups and spoons. He poked around a little, once he’d filled up the dishwasher. The fridge was decently stocked, as was the pantry. Nothing fancy, lots of meat, most of it looking like the butchered pieces of things they’d caught. Jed wanted to give Redford some space, the chance to do things his own way. The guy was more than capable of handling everything, really. Jed just wanted to give
him
a chance to realize that.

Redford and the Lewises got down to talking, the sounds of the conversation washing over Jed as he looked around the kitchen. A few minutes later, Redford sidled up to him. “Jed,” he whispered urgently, “How much is gas right now? I need to know for the budget.”

After a moment, Jed huffed out a little laugh, taking Redford by the shoulders and tugging him in, kissing his forehead, the bridge of his nose. “Nervous?” he murmured, ignoring the question for a moment in favor of massaging the tense knots he could feel in Redford’s neck.

“Very,” Redford admitted. “I don’t know how you do this. There’s so much to think about, and I can’t keep any of it straight in my head.”

“Sure you can,” Jed responded. He kissed said head again before wrapping his arms around Redford. They fit together so goddamn well. It still amazed Jed sometimes. “Remember the Southfield job two weeks ago? Instead of just charging gas money, you charged mileage. That way it paid for the wear and tear on the vehicles too.” Although Jed’s version of
wear and tear
was slightly different than other people’s. Removing some stains from upholstery was apparently more expensive than just ripping the seats out and starting over. “Just use that amount and charge them per mile.”