Bloodlines (87 page)

They came to a clearing, the brook that fed Victor’s small pond rushing over rocks, barely deep enough to even wade through. But Randall splashed in the water anyway, with a strange huffing sound that Victor took to mean a laugh. And then they were off again, Victor trying to keep up with Randall’s seemingly endless energy.

An hour later, he reluctantly had to call it quits, and hugged Randall before making his way back to the mansion on wobbly legs. He heard Anthony howl, and then Randall did the same as they located each other. Randall took off once he’d made sure Victor was back on the lawn of the house. In the semidark he was barely more than a shadow. Victor realized how very, very slowly Randall must have been going to accommodate him, and yet, he’d never once appeared as though he was anything but thrilled with their tramp through the woods. He’d even found a branch with a few faded blooms, the last of the late summer blush of color, and brought it to Victor, clamped between his teeth.

Victor carried that branch with him as he got inside. He passed by the kitchen, where Jed had his head stuck in the fridge. “I’m going to get some sleep,” Victor said, taking his glasses off to wearily rub his eyes. “Do you need anything before I go? The rooms in the hallway to the left of here have made-up beds.”

“Carb load” was Jed’s response. He came out of the fridge with half a chicken and a bottle of beer. Victor honestly didn’t remember purchasing
beer
, but Edwin had carted in several bags the other day. Perhaps he’d added to the shopping list a little. For some reason, Edwin and Anthony didn’t appreciate wine. Either that, or Jed had some strange, magical ability to produce beer out of thin air simply by wishing it. “And protein. Oh, if you can get a nap in earlier in the day, preferably before one-ish? That helps. Pretty much once you hit afternoon, you’re done for.”

Victor stopped on the verge of a dry remark and instead watched Jed putter around the kitchen for a moment. “When I first met you, I had no idea that you would one day be giving
me
advice on how to deal with a supernatural species,” he said, rather bemused at the situation.

Jed grunted. “Not telling you their history, or whatever fancy-pants stuff you study, professor. Just sayin’, I nearly got killed from sex the first few moons. You kind of think it’s going to be all nighttime furry howling, but Red seems to start getting jittery in the afternoon, and apparently part of that is wanting to fuck my brains out and mark me up as much as he can. He says it’s like he feels like he needs to
claim
me.” Jed grinned as he found bread and butter, making himself a chicken sandwich. “Not that I’m complaining. Just thought I’d share the wisdom.”

Victor grimaced. “Thank you for your specificity.” He hardly needed to be told that now, anyway. He knew it quite well.

Jed arranged pickles on the bread. The grin had turned into a contemplative frown. “You, uh.” He cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little from foot to foot. “You seem happy,” Jed finally managed in a rough growl, shoulders ticked upward uncomfortably. “Especially since the last time I saw you with someone. Just… you know, just saying. You seem happier now than you were.”

Victor suppressed a groan. There were few things more awkward in his life than Jed attempting to talk about such things, but he did appreciate it on some level. It was hard for Jed too, and the very fact that he was attempting the conversation meant a great deal.

“I am happy,” he said simply. “I found a way to reconcile my insight of the future with the present. I’m still working on some issues regarding my own bloodline and the craving for knowledge without caring about the danger, but it’s going well. Randall and I are dating, and we’re determined to move at a normal pace.” Victor paused, thinking back over his summary. “Is that enough information so that we can cease having this conversation?”

“God, yes,” Jed managed in relief. “I hate that shit.” Turning, he gave Victor a short smirk. “Can I make fun of you for having nerd sex, now?”

In response, Victor tugged down the collar of his shirt, showing Jed the ring of bitten bruises around his neck. “Does this look like the result of nerd sex to you?”

Jed laughed at that, raising his beer to Victor in cheers. “Well done, princess.”

There was a long, drawn-out howl, and both of them turned to the window, peering out over the rapidly darkening lawn. They searched the woods, Victor’s heart pounding a bit louder, until they saw a streak of blond fur, Edwin darting out of the trees and then back in again. No immediate signs of danger.

They relaxed, and Victor sighed as he realized he wasn’t feeling tired enough to sleep. He went to the fridge, absently listening to Jed mutter to himself about bells and emergency plans. Victor looked over the frankly ridiculous amounts of food in his fridge. Jed’s voice had started to grow quieter. Victor tilted his head in Jed’s direction, trying to listen better.

Everything
was getting quieter.

Victor’s heart gave a beat so hard it felt like it had the force to break ribs. “Jed,” he managed, clutching the side of the fridge. He had no idea what was happening. He’d been looking at
food
, not at anybody’s eyes. “Jed, I think I’m about to have a vision.”

“What the—” He dimly heard the clatter of things falling, the distinctive crash of a plate breaking. But when Victor fell backward, Jed caught him, arms circling around him and easing him back toward the floor. “Talk to me, Victor. What the fuck is going on? You didn’t see me. I know we didn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you. What is….”

His voice seemed to trail off, but Victor vaguely recognized it wasn’t that Jed had stopped speaking, but rather his own hearing had shut off completely. He opened his mouth to try to reply, but no words came out.

His eyes
burned
, and then….

Nothing. A black expanse of absolutely nothing, a void that stretched on for an infinity. A nothingness that made Victor want to weep from the lack of warmth, light, and feeling.

Flame flickered at the corners of his vision—not around him, but seemingly in his eyes. They didn’t hurt anymore. He blinked, and the flame spread over his eyelids while the void seemed to stretch and expand, flexing while somehow moving him.

There were things in the background that Victor couldn’t see. Strings, much like the future threads he saw, that started from blackness and ended in blackness, too massive for him to see the beginning and end. Whispers reached his ears, terrible howls from the darkness.

One of the voices started to become more audible. It was a murmur at first, vibrating around one of the threads. Then it rose in volume until it became the piercing shriek of a wind that whipped at Victor from all sides, and the only thing that was important was listening.

Victor felt his body move, his hand casting about for something. Jed’s arms shifted, though Victor couldn’t hear him speak.

The howling voice rose to a fevered pitch, repeating its words.

Victor had no pen and paper. Instead, he touched his fingers to the warmth he could feel coming from his eyes. Slowly, he shifted from Jed’s grip, sightless gaze fixing on the kitchen floor.

He began to write with red, bloody smears over white kitchen tile.

And once he was done, the voice stopped, seemingly soothed by the physical recording of the words.

His job finished, Victor pitched forward to land next to his writing, unconsciousness rising up to greet him like a familiar friend.

Jed

O
KAY
,
SEE
,
werewolves he could handle. Vampires, fine, whatever. All this crazy half blood,
the truth is out there
shit, Jed had made some kind of peace with. But this? This was bleeding from the eyes, seizing, writing messages in blood,
freaky-ass shit
. And it was
not okay
.

Holding Victor as he finally passed out, Jed stared blankly at the message he’d scrawled, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do now.

When the Walker comes,

Dark of eye and light of skin,

From which blood flows,

And blood denied,

When the Walker comes,

When solitude turns to many,

The sword will be gained,

Battle ne’er ceasing shall find its end,

When the Walker comes,

Raven’s cry shall be o’er heard,

Stones shall line the footpaths,

And the flames from ashes rise,

When the Walker comes,

The lion’s roar shall be silenced,

The lamb’s cry shall shatter bones,

And the old ways shall be new again,

When the Walker comes.

The words were small, streaky, some of them only half-legible. Honestly, Jed had to resist the urge to swipe his foot across the whole damn thing and turn it into nothing more than a smudge. Because whatever the hell freaky-ass shit was going on here? Was not his department. At all.

Yeah, they were definitely going to table that discussion. Who the fuck knew what any of that meant, and right now, he had an unconscious Victor in his arms, blood a drying streak against his cheeks. So Jed hefted him up and carried Victor to the closest bedroom, cursing under his breath the whole time.

“Couldn’t do your freaky
Exorcist
routine when someone else was here, could you?” Jed muttered, depositing Victor onto the bed and studying the man, hands on his hips. “Oh, no, Victor goddamn Rathbone has to pull that shit while everyone else is four legged and furry. Just fucking great.”

Jed was going to kick someone’s ass for this. He didn’t know
who
yet, but an ass was definitely getting a kick.

After finding a rag and running it under warm water, Jed carefully cleaned off Victor’s face, searching for a wound in his eyes. There didn’t appear to be any obvious reason for the blood. Then again, there probably wasn’t an
obvious
reason for any of this. People didn’t bleed from the eyes just for shits and giggles.

Jed shone a flashlight into Victor’s pupils, doing his best to look while not actually meeting them directly. Harder than it sounded, but in the end, Jed was pretty sure Victor didn’t have a concussion or anything. He was just his normal, freaky self.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

A howl rose in the distance, the sound of it setting Jed’s nerves on edge. Shit, he recognized the tone to that. That was a
something’s wrong
howl, except it was getting closer. He had no idea how far wolves could smell—could one of them have smelled the blood from all the way out there?

There was the clatter of paws on the porch and then a
thud
, a heavy body physically throwing itself at the front door. Rolling his eyes, Jed headed out after giving Victor one last look. “Don’t move,” he told Victor. Probably unnecessarily.

When he opened the door, Randall streaked in, already half shifted. “What happened?” Randall demanded as soon as he could talk again. “Where’s Victor?”

Randall’s bare feet skidded to a halt in the kitchen, his nostrils flaring at the sight of blood. It wasn’t just making creepy words on the floor, it was in odd streaks along the edge of the verse too, where Victor had braced bloody hands on the tile to keep his balance. Basically, it was a horror show, and probably not the best thing for Randall to stumble into. Eyes glowing yellow, a protective growl rumbling in his chest, Randall rounded on Jed. Jed was slammed back against the wall with an arm across his throat before he even had time to form words.

“Where is Victor?” Randall barked, teeth bared. “Tell me
right now
.”

“He’s in the bedroom. Jesus,” Jed snapped, shoving Randall back. “He had a fit. I just got him cleaned up and—”

Okay, apparently they were done talking. Randall took off, thudding through the hallway and banging open doors, finding Victor where Jed had left him. Jed followed at a distance, fingers itching for the gun he’d left in his bag.
Stupid
, Walker. Never go anywhere without a weapon. Just fucking stupid. He was going soft.

Randall was sniffing Victor. Okay. Weird. But whatever he scented seemed to calm him marginally. Randall sat on the edge of the bed, holding Victor’s hand, studying his face with worried eyes. After a beat, he ventured, “I… apologize. I just…. I smelled the blood, and I couldn’t think.”

Jed inclined his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he allowed grudgingly. “Probably would have done the same.”

Randall hefted an eyebrow at him.

Jed amended, “Okay, definitely. And worse. So don’t worry. I think he’s fine.”

“He’s unconscious,” Randall confirmed. “But I can’t smell anything seriously wrong. My nose isn’t as good as Edwin’s, but I agree, I think he’s okay.” A frown puckered Randall’s face, and he turned to Jed. “Did you meet his eyes? What happened?”