The Way Home (6 page)

“How many times do I have to tell you, you can tell me everything or nothing. It doesn't change the way that I feel about you.”

“Maybe it should,” Susan snapped the words. “And you've been off your back long enough, you need to find somewhere to lie down and your bandages need to be changed. You'll need to keep it as clean and dry as possible to minimize scarring.”

“I'm not too worried about scars, especially since you find them so sexy.”

“My opinion shouldn't matter. You should want them to heal properly so that there's no lingering infection. She leaned down and took the gauze from his hands. “I'll finish this up.”

“I'll go and find somewhere for us to sleep.” He kept his eyes on her as he got to his feet.

“Don't worry about me. I just remembered there's more stuff I need to do.”

“It can fucking wait,” he told her. “You need to sleep.”

“I will, when I'm done. I've wasted enough time in here.” Susan tied off the gauze, not her best work by far, and pulled up her jeans. She headed for the sink, but Houdini blocked her way. “I need to wash my hands.”

“You need to tell me what's going on in your mind. Normally, I'd wait it out a bit, figure it out on my own, but we don't have time to be distracted.”

“You're right,” Susan tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “You are one the best men I have ever met or ever will meet. You're strong and tough but also so kind and gentle. You've always been gentle with me, never pushed or forced an issue, and somehow you don't even seem to resent me for it. You should.”

“I should resent you?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, his expression somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“You should probably hate me.” Susan had known when she started speaking that she couldn't stop or back down no matter how much it felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest by her own hands. His expression had lost all the amusement; now there was anger mixed with the confusion. “I think we made a mistake, no, I know that we did, and it's on me. I should have been clear from the start what it meant when I vouched for you.”

“Baby, we've talked about all this already. I have no problem with...”

“You should! You should have a big problem with it, with me!” Susan stepped back from him, held her hands out so that he wouldn't try and touch her. “And I'm sorry that I didn't put a stop to all of this before it became something, before you started to feel the way that you feel.”

“You're saying that you're sorry for us happening. That you're sorry I fell in love with you? Is that what you're saying, Susan?”

“I'm saying that with everything that happened and what's happening now, it's made me think and realize that no matter how much fun we might be able to have together, there's no future for us.”

“You're ending things with me?”

“I will go to Shepard and tell him that we cannot remain mated because I broke the union. It will keep you in the clear.”

“And it'll get you killed.”

“There's too much going on for them to kill me.” Susan hoped that she was right. “More likely, I'll just be penalized once all this is over. There will be no repercussions for you.”

“This is bullshit, all of it. And you know that, or you'd be able to look me in the eyes while you talk this shit.” His voice carried the hard edge of his anger. “You're delusional because you've been awake for so long. You need to sleep, and then we'll finish this bullshit conversation.”

“I'm being serious. The sooner that you understand that, the better for both of us. The better for all of us.”

“Despite the fact that no one seems to believe it, I can read. If someone breaks a union, it's a death offense and their mate is given an option. They can ask that the sentence not be given, volunteer to pay an alternate price.”
             

“You're not like us, Houdini. The alternate price would kill you.”

“Right now, do I look like a give a fuck about that? You tell about your so-called indiscretion and I'll volunteer to save you. So get ever going to him out of your mind. I don't know what happened, what shifted the way that you're thinking and I really can't be bothered to give a fuck. We're together, Susan. I love you.”

“You shouldn't! Haven't you been listening?”

“I hear a woman, my woman, who has been awake over twenty-four hours, with very little food and probably not enough to drink. I hear my woman feeling a little vulnerable after watching a truck blow and having to patch up her friends, and herself.” Houdini replied. “Now, suck it up and let's go find somewhere to sleep.”

“I said that I had things to do. You don't want me to go to Shepard, fine. I won't, but that doesn't mean that things are going to stay the same with us. I won't do that to you, Houdini. I won't. And now that we're back here with all these women you know, ones who want you, you should take advantage of that, but just please be discreet.”

Susan screamed as Houdini grabbed her arms, he spun her around as quickly as possible in the tiny room so that her back was pressed against the door. “You're forgetting something, Susan. I'm with you because I want to be with you, I'm with you because I love you.”

“I don't want to be with you. I don't love you.” Susan realized she'd have sounded more convincing if she didn't let out a sob in the middle of the sentence.

“That's a fucking lie, we both know it is. You think you're protecting me or saving me from something. We could argue it for hours right now, but we're not. Right now, we're going to find a bed.”

“Fine, we'll fake it for old times' sake but come tomorrow, we're going to figure something out.” Susan pushed him away from her. “Please don't touch me again.”

“We're not faking shit,” he closed the distance between them, covered her mouth with his. Susan resisted the kiss, brought her fists up to shove with all her might at his chest. As strong as she was, he was stronger. But still she struggled against him until she was too weak to continue.

“Look at me, Susan,” his voice was low, rougher than she expected.

It was hard to meet his eyes, almost impossible, but finally Susan did. She drew in a deep breath at the dark expression in his eyes. She'd seen it once before, when he told her of losing Willow and Junior in a hail of gunfire. Why was he looking at her like that now? “Houdini.”

“You're not walking away from this, from us. Be as scared as you want to, that's fine. But you don't get to walk away,
it's for better or worse. You understand that? I love you. It's not changing, and I'll be damned if I don't touch you. Nothing is changing between us, not one fucking thing.”

Susan could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek, just as she could feel the rage inside of him. Her arms ached where his fingers dug in; she'd be bruised the following day. He was hurting her, and she was too scared to say it. Too scared that if she did, it would only become worse. For as long as she could, she tried to keep from trembling, but she failed, miserably.

The next thing she knew, she'd slid out of Houdini's grip somehow and was on the floor, her arms around her legs and her head on her knees. Houdini loomed over her. He knelt down. She knew it was him but flinched when he reached out to touch her. “I just need a minute.”

“I'll go and find us a bed.” He didn't try to touch her again, and she was glad for it. Glad for the silence that almost let her think. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd offer himself in her stead if she went to Shepard and as a doctor, she knew he wouldn't be able to withstand the whipping and exposure to the elements that one of her kind could. She would not see him suffer like that.

She would hold back from him. He was already frustrated with her; if she gave him nothing then she could hope he'd pull away, finally realizing that she wasn't worth his time. Susan had nearly convinced herself that she deserved this and him, which must have been why Rick was so much at the front and center of her mind. It was her mind's way of reminding her that she would never deserve this. All she could do was stay her course, heal and help those in need.

Chapter Six.

Houdini peered under the bandage on his cheek, deliberately he left it off and tied his hair back as he left the bathroom and entered the kitchen. It was a small group tonight: Adelaide, Caro, Shepard, Lina, Deke, Vera and Susan. Everyone glanced his way, except Susan. She'd been doing a damn good job of ignoring him lately. Ever since the moment they had in the bathroom, she'd completely pulled back from him again. It reminded him of when they'd first fled to Wyoming. It had taken months for her to relax to him. The idea that all that work had been undone really pissed Houdini off.

“Let's get to business. This information is only for the eyes and ears in this room. It can go no farther.” Shepard was serious; he was always serious, but these days even more so. “This morning, a group out on patrol deep in the woods found what appears to be a mass grave. The bodies inside were burned, but there's evidence of an animal attack. There's also reason to believe that the bodies belong to The Grievers.”

“The death of an enemy is always a reason for celebration, but not today. If these bodies are The Grievers, it raises two important questions. The first: is Michael dead or alive? The second: if Michael is dead, who is behind the explosion?” Lina looked around the room. “The Council is not pleased at our lack of progress. Most of us can expect to be reassigned within the next four days. They have agreed to leave Deke, Vera, Houdini and Susan here for the time being to continue to work with the pack.”

“Is there any word on what I asked?” Deacon questioned. Houdini had no clue what he'd asked, what he'd been thinking about. It had been too long since they'd simply sat down and talked. They'd spent hours doing that before, but maybe now so much damage had been done that they would never be that kind of friends again.

Shepard nodded. “I was just going to get to that, Deke. The Council has agreed to your request for relocation to Center City and approved your request to take control of The Vikings again. If one thing was learned by the existence of The Grievers, it is that such a group serves a multitude of purposes.”

Relocated to Center City? Reforming The Vikings? Houdini wouldn't be more surprised if Deke broke out in a routine straight out of Magic Mike. Deacon smiled widely, crossed the room to shake Shepard's hand and kiss Lina's cheek. “Thank you,” he told them. “This is going to be amazing for the town.”

“That remains to be seen,” Lina pointed out. “Things seem to be working in our favor, though. I've just got a text message that Chief Will Brothers resigned his position this morning. The Center City PD shouldn't be much of a problem.”

Vera started to clap and most of the room followed. Even the members of the pack leery of the Strays weren't going to be leery of The Vikings. They were a fixture in Center City; people who wore their cut were to be trusted, not feared.

Houdini watched as Susan got up as well, she clapped and smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. He moved through the crowd, came up next to her and grabbed her hand. She jolted, shot him a look that should have been able to kill but said nothing.

“We'll start by rebuilding the warehouse. Been through it a few times and most of what needs to be done is pretty simple, almost like someone didn't want the place to burn down.” Deacon seemed concerned about it. “Anyway, I need volunteers to get that started. We're going to need someone to head to Maryville, talk to the guy who did our cuts the last time.”

“No disrespect, Pres, but there are two of us.”

“Three,” Mike Jones, coach of the local kids' baseball team and all around nice guy, spoke up. “I'm with you, Deke, whatever it takes.”

Other voices spoke up as well. Eddie Wainright, known simply as Eddie, had probably never fired a gun or seen action outside of a video game. Nate Ramsey had finished a five year stretch for assault about two years back; he was rumored to be a little bit crazy. Lane Harris was barely more than a kid; his face was mostly just acne.

Altogether, it would make them six. While six was far from mighty, it was also a world better than two. For a moment, he and Deacon just looked at each other. They didn't need words; they both knew that there was no other way to revive The Vikings than with numbers. “I'll go to the warehouse, see what I can do,” Houdini offered. He was more than willing to help in any way it took. He'd shoulder as much of it as he could; it was important to the both of them.

“Thank you,”

“Come with me.” Houdini didn't phrase it as a question when he tightened his grip on Susan's hand. “It'll be fun.”

“I'm sure that it would be,” Susan replied in a tight tone. “I've got things that I need to do here.”

“What things?” Houdini was tired of being put off by her. Since their conversation she'd gotten really good at putting him off, at finding random places to fall asleep alone, and he wasn't going to let it keep up. “You know what? I don't give a fuck what you've got to do. You're coming with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You're coming with me, and we're leaving now.” With the decision made, Houdini left no room for her to say anything. “Susan and I are heading out to the warehouse. We'll let you know what we find.”

“What the hell are you doing?” She hissed the words at him as he pulled her to the door. “I have things that I need to get done here.”

“I said, I don't give a fuck.” He was glad once they hit the fresh air outside.

“What is this about?” She tugged her hand out of his. “I really don't give a fuck that you don't give a fuck what I have to do. It still needs to be done. I don't have time for...”

“For me? It's pretty obvious that you don't have time for me, and I've got a really big problem with that.”

“Houdini, we talked about this...”

“No, you talked.” He corrected. “This is me talking, and you're going to listen. I'm done being ignored and shut out. We're in this together. That hasn't changed. It's not going to change. Now we're going to the warehouse, do you have a problem with that?”
              “I'll go with you, but we are merely keeping up appearances, nothing more.”

“That is such fucking bullshit.” Houdini worked really hard to keep his temper in check, he could remember, too clearly, what had happened the last time he'd just let go. When he'd slaughtered five men in the most
vicious way possible and smiled the entire time. If he let go again, he couldn't guarantee that no one would get hurt, and Susan made that so fucking hard. Why did she have to be so damned stubborn?

“I think that it would be easier if I was relocated away from Center City. Surely there are many areas that could use a doctor. I know that you want to stay here, for your friends and for The Vikings. I've been thinking about it and...”

He'd had his fill of the bullshit coming out of her mouth, reached the limit of how much he was going to let her push away. Even though he'd tried, he hadn't even come close to figuring out what had changed things so drastically for her, and it was obvious she wasn't ready to share. Houdini was a patient man, but he'd been patient with her long enough.

He covered her mouth in a kiss that was anything but sweet, swallowed her cries of protest and grabbed her forearms when she would have taken a swing at him. He continued to kiss her unresponsive lips until finally she did respond. Houdini kept the pace steady and slow, overly aware of every aspect of them and the situation around them.

He needed her to relax, and finally she did; when he released her arms they moved around his neck and her fingers slid into his hair. The kiss would have continued, grown deeper, but they shifted and her cheek bumped his. “Fuck.” Maybe it wasn't as healed as he'd thought it was.

“Why aren't you wearing a bandage?” Susan wiped her hand over her now swollen lips.

“Why do you care? It's for appearances, remember?” Houdini watched as a guilty expression flashed over her face. “Why don't you just tell me what the hell is going on in that head of yours?”

“Not here,” she looked over at the house. “I'll tell you at the warehouse, I promise.”

“That's good enough for me.” Houdini leaned in, kissed her lips lightly. “Do you want to run or take the SUV?”

“Let's drive, I think that I'm too tired to run. I haven't been sleeping really well.”

Houdini pressed his face to hers. He knew that she hadn't been sleeping if she wasn't sleeping with him, before they'd met she said that it was a lucky night if she got three hours. These days, she was sleeping a solid seven, or at least had been. “You're going to sleep great tonight, I promise.”

<#<#<#<#<#

The warehouse was in the same shape that Houdini remembered, but it was his room that surprised him. The containers of take-out food were gone, the sheets seemed to be fresh, and he swore that he smelled the faint scent of cigarette smoke in the air.

“Someone was here, recently.” Susan had been quiet, thoughtful, for most of the ride. “I smell bleach. We should check the other rooms. There are other rooms, right?”

“There are two more, one just like this and one that's more of an apartment. It's got a little kitchen and en suite bath.” As he mentioned it, inspiration struck Houdini. If they were rebuilding the warehouse, it made completely sense to have someone on site. Who better than he and Susan? “Let's check out the apartment. I think that's the answer to our current living situation. It's getting crowded at Rose's. Come on, we'll check it out and then we'll talk.”             

She took his hand. It made his heart race, even though it was a small thing. Houdini couldn't be sure this wouldn't be one step forward and two back, which seemed to be their new routine. “There's not even electricity here, Houdini.”

“There's a generator, and it won't take much to rewire. I could do it in a couple days if I put my mind to it.” Houdini let himself see the possibilities. “The apartment has a separate entrance, so even if we have to tear all this up, we'll be good to get in and out.”

There was a different lock on the apartment door; it was bright and shiny. It had to be new. It shouldn't have been there. “What now?” Susan asked.

“Have a little faith,” Houdini reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and dropped down to his knee. “Pretty high end lock, but it's no match for me.”

“So, that's how you got your nickname.” She leaned against the wall and looked down at him.

“Pretty much.” He shrugged his shoulders, continued to work. “They had to call me something.”

“What about your real name?”

“That's not my name anymore.” He shut his eyes, concentrated on the lock and finally felt the click that he'd been waiting for. He pulled his gun as he rose to his feet, motioned for Susan to stay in the hall as he pushed the door open.

The apartment was empty. Somehow he'd expected someone would be there, but there was no one, just several clear plastic boxes packed on top of a neatly-made bed. Houdini holstered his gun, moved forward and opened the first box.

It was packed, neatly, with all of The Viking memorabilia from the conference room and around the warehouse. Everyone had assumed it had been destroyed, and yet here it was with no damage that he could tell. He went through all three boxes, found there was nothing he could think of missing. “I need to call Deke. He needs to see this like right now.”

“Whoever saved all this obviously knew what it meant to all of you,” Susan stepped into the room. “The bleach smell is coming from the other room, I'll go and check it out while you call Deke. May I? She motioned towards his holstered weapon.

“Be careful,” he told her. Part of him said to go with her, but he found himself rooted to that spot, his eyes drawn to the things that had represented The Vikings for so long. The pictures alone brought a wave of nostalgia over him, even the ones from before his time. It barely registered when Susan left the room; he just kept digging deeper into the boxes.

Finally, he did take out his phone and call Deacon, told him to come quickly. If there was ever a good omen for the restart of The Vikings, it was finding this treasure trove. Houdini hung up the phone, realized that Susan hadn't returned. He sought her out, found her in the third room. “What are you looking at?”

“There was a kid here,” her voice shook. “A young kid, still in diapers and there's blood. I don't know if it's the kid's blood but there's blood, a lot of blood. Something bad happened here. Something really bad.”

Houdini had to agree; it looked grim. The floor was still dark with blood, and the makeshift cradle drawer was only feet away. “I know,” he placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezed lightly. “We'll figure out what happened. First thing, we've got to figure out who was staying here and saved everything.”

“Maybe it was whoever started the fire and botched it so that the place is still standing. I've been thinking about it, with everything else, it cannot be a coincidence.”

“It was Fire,” Houdini told her. “No one else would have the skill. No one else would care.”

“He was a Griever in the end, Houdini. Why preserve anything to do with The Vikings? It just doesn't make sense.”

“And if he's one of the bodies in that grave, we'll never know why. The one thing that doesn't fit is Fire and a kid. He didn't have an Old Lady.”

“No special girl?”

“He was too intense for most of the girls that hung around. If anything, they'd go with him once and then not again. Most of the time he paid for it, said it was the most honest way to get off.”