Vendetta (Legend of the Ir'Indicti #4) (17 page)

Trajan and Trace stepped back and allowed Ashe to move toward an empty corner of the store. Ashe hit his father's cell number—it was still night in England. The call went straight to voice mail. "Dad, I don't know why you did it, but you have to take it back," Ashe choked out. "You have to, Dad. Right away. You don't know what I know. Please, Dad." Ashe wiped tears away when he ended the call.

* * *

"Boss, this is the worst possible time to be doing this," Trajan informed Winkler after Ashe and Trace had gone to the coffee shop in the hotel for a bottle of water. "The kid broke down when he tried to call Aedan."

Winkler cursed and tossed a pillow across the room. "What the hell are we supposed to do, Trajan? What? I’m not the boy's father. He won't come to me for anything like this."

"I don't know. I wish he trusted us. I don't think he trusts anybody, now. We pulled that rug from under his feet." Trajan flopped onto the sofa inside Winkler's suite, rubbing his forehead. The incident had given him a headache.

"We’ll get this thing over with as quickly as possible tomorrow and go home," Winkler sighed. "Adele is home—I heard from Marcus. Denise went to pick her up at the airport. Said she seemed in a sort of daze and barely remembered to ask about Ashe."

"Compulsion. If Aedan thinks to protect them by doing this, I’m not sure I agree with that," Trajan looked up at Winkler, who prowled restlessly about the suite. "I don't believe for a minute he doesn't love both of them."

"This could be disastrous," Winkler said. "And Weldon called—said Wlodek is sending three vampires to help Nathan guard the community."

"Then we’ll be watching them, boss."

"Yeah. We’ll be watching, all right. I talked to Buck—told him he had to get the beach house finished in record time. We’ll move the kid there. See how Wlodek likes that turn of events."

"How long until it's done?"

"Soon, according to Buck. Weather should hold—unless we get an unforeseen hurricane or something. The new place is fireproof and can withstand winds up to two hundred miles an hour."

"Think that will keep us safe?" Trajan searched Winkler's face. They'd lost Jimmy, Spencer and Gabe to Tanner and his Elemaiyan allies.

"As much as any building can keep us safe. There are a few hidden rooms, too. I asked Buck for those in particular."

"Hidden doorways, boss?"

"No doors or windows of any kind—only small air vents. Ashe can get inside these rooms. We can't."

"That means he can get us inside if he wants."

"Exactly. They’ll all be built as safe rooms." Both werewolves heard the door open in the suite next door and stopped their discussion. Winkler tapped on the connecting door before walking inside.

Ashe handed a cup of coffee to Winkler, who lifted an eyebrow in surprise—he hadn't asked for it but was thinking about going downstairs to get some.

"Kid, I want to hug you right now," Winkler sighed.

"Maybe later," Ashe set his water bottle on the desk. Trace handed a can of soda to Trajan—he knew what his brother liked.

"Feel like eating in about an hour? I think we can get a haircut for you before we find a restaurant."

"It does look a little shaggy," Ashe admitted, settling into the chair beside the desk and lifting up a lock of hair. "It could use a trim. I wish I'd brought my laptop."

"You can borrow mine if you really need it," Winkler offered. "Take your water, we’ll get a cab and go out."

Ashe got his hair cut and styled at the hotel salon, after insisting that Winkler didn't need to spend so much on a haircut. A steak and seafood restaurant was next on the list. Ashe ordered prime rib while the others had rare steaks. Ashe's cell rang while he was eating. "Mom?" He said after checking the ID on his phone. "What happened?" Winkler and the others listened as Adele explained.

"Denise said I had to call you," Adele sighed. "Your father and I decided to separate," she added. "This wasn't going to work out between us so we parted friends. Marcus says you're in Washington state?"

"D.C., Mom," Ashe sighed. "Winkler had a meeting and didn't want to leave me behind."

"Probably a good idea. Are you doing what he tells you to do?"

"Yeah. Mom, did Dad say anything about me—about you and me?"

"No. I just walked away and boarded the plane after he went to sleep."

"That's not an answer. You know that, don't you?"

"Ashe, we parted friends. He's still your father. I just don't think you’ll see much of him. I get the idea he’ll be really busy from now on."

Ashe wanted to curse. Scooting his chair back, he rose and walked away from the table. "Mom, I can be home in no time. If you need me," Ashe wiped dampness from his cheeks.

"I’m fine. We’ll get through this. I'll just have to get the sale done on the store soon—we’ll need the money. I don't have your father's bank account to draw on any longer."

"Mom? He's not even—he's not going to help?" Ashe's voice broke. His father wasn't going to help support them?

"He said you had a job, now. You can take care of yourself."

"Yeah. I guess that makes me an adult and all."

"Don't look at it that way. I don't think he meant for you to feel like this."

"How did he mean for me to feel, then? How?" Ashe punched the end button on his phone and nearly ran out of the restaurant.

* * *

"This isn't good, boss," Trajan phoned Winkler after following Ashe out the door. Ashe wandered the streets of Silver Spring, Maryland, a nearby suburb of Washington, D.C., walking aimlessly down the street. Trajan relayed the phone conversation from both ends while chasing after Ashe. "And if he turns or hops, we’ve lost him."

Winkler cursed. "See if you can catch up with him. Try to convince him to come back. Damn. I wish there was some way to track that kid."

"Maybe there is, boss. Let's buy him a nice watch and put a chip in it," Trace suggested quietly. He and Winkler still sat at the table inside the restaurant while Trajan tried to reach Ashe.

"I’ve got one better," Winkler grinned. "We’ll have Matt give it to him. It’ll have the time zones on it and anything else the kid might want it to do, including checking the Internet. Trace, sometimes I don't give you nearly enough credit." Winkler whipped his cell out again and called Matt Michaels.

* * *

"Ashe, we have to find a way to deal with this. Do you think for even one minute that Winkler will allow you or your mother to starve?" Trajan had finally caught up with Ashe. "Your food is likely cold, but we can get them to reheat it." Trajan had a hand on Ashe's shoulder as Ashe walked aimlessly, his body hunched over and hands stuffed in the pockets of his cargo pants.

"Trajan, I know he has a reason for doing this, but did he mean to hurt us so much?" Ashe lifted his head to stare at Trajan.

"Kid, sometimes people do the worst things for what they think are the best of reasons. It usually turns out badly—for everybody."

"Why did he do this? Why?" Ashe leaned against Trajan for support. His mother's words had dealt a terrible blow. Perhaps his father meant to be kind by being cruel, but did he think it wouldn't hurt in the worst way possible? Ashe didn't expect a response from his father. Aedan had cut ties with his family. Ashe hoped his father's actions were meant to protect them instead of an indication that he didn't love them.

"Come back to the restaurant, Ashe. We have business tomorrow and you don't need to go to bed hungry." Trajan successfully steered Ashe in the opposite direction.

* * *

"Can we get these two dinners reheated?" Winkler asked their waiter when Ashe and Trajan sat down again. "Ashe, I know there isn't anything I can say or do to make this better for you," Winkler watched the waiter walk away before speaking. "All I can say is to give it time. I hope things turn out better. I hope there's a happy ending somewhere. I do. In the meantime, we’ll get through this, one way or another. Weldon contacted another physician in the area—he's sending somebody to our hotel with something that will help you sleep tonight."

"Fine." Ashe and Trajan's dinners were back in moments. Ashe didn't mind that his prime rib had cooked a little more but Trajan was forced to eat a medium steak instead of a rare one. Ashe wanted to apologize, but the words just wouldn't come.

* * *

"Brush your teeth and get into pajamas—this stuff works pretty fast."

Ashe eyed the syringe with distrust. The woman who held it looked to be in her thirties, was pretty enough and Winkler said she was werewolf, so the age estimate was likely far off.

"Drugs kill people," Ashe pointed out. He didn't want to voice his sudden suspicions aloud.

"Kid, are you saying you don't want this?" Winkler watched Ashe carefully.

"I think that's what I’m saying, Mr. Winkler. I'd like to be able to wake up if I need to."

"He doesn't want it," Winkler shrugged at the woman. He pulled a wad of money from his wallet and handed it to her. "I’ll let Weldon know you did your job."

"I'd like that," the nurse snatched the bills from Winkler's hand, shoved the syringe into her purse and hefted the bag over her shoulder. Ashe knew she wasn't happy, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. "What's your name?" Ashe asked.

"Trina," she snapped.

"Sorry, Trina. Maybe next time," Ashe apologized. "I’ll try to get to sleep on my own."

"You do that." Trina walked toward the door of Winkler's suite in a huff and slammed it behind her.

"I don't think she likes me," Ashe muttered.

"Kid, she just didn't want to catch a cab home. I think she wanted Winkler to drive her," Trajan grinned.

"Ah. You weren't going to uh, jump on that?" Ashe looked at Winkler.

"Nope. Got big fish to fry tomorrow. Maybe later. Come on, kid. Get your jammies on and brush your teeth. Trajan has an early morning."

"I can sleep late?" Ashe gave Winkler a wide stare.

"No, that was my tactful way of saying you have to get up with the chickens."

"I thought it was go to bed with the chickens."

"Kid, if you go to bed with chickens, it makes sense that you'd wake up with chickens. Hence the rooster crowing at sunrise or before? I thought you grew up on a farm." Winkler tousled Ashe's hair.

"We never had chickens. The Thompsons had chickens. Mom got our eggs from Mr. Thompson."

"You never chased chickens? Man, those are good memories," Trace sighed blissfully.

"Until Mom caught you and you got grounded for two weeks," Trajan observed dryly. "He was chasing them as werewolf at eighteen." Trajan offered Ashe a wide grin.

"You terrorized chickens?" Ashe stared at Trace.

"As much as I could get away with," Trace laughed. "Mom would hit me now if she knew about the times I didn't get caught. Besides, those were mean chickens."

"Come on, they have feathers and they're a foot tall," Ashe wagged a finger at Trace.

"And they'd peck if you got too close."

"Uh-huh. My friend the chicken-chaser." Ashe walked toward the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Did you call me your friend?" Trace poked his head inside the bathroom door, watching Ashe spread toothpaste on a toothbrush.

"I said that." Ashe stuck the brush in his mouth to clean his teeth.

"Someday, I’ll ask for your autograph," Trace grinned.

"Yeah. Just like Sali is gonna ride in my convertible as a wolf." Ashe scrubbed his teeth while Trace supervised.

"Want to talk about that?" Trace leaned his shoulder against the bathroom door.

"Uh-uh," Ashe mumbled around his toothbrush.

"Kid, I don't think Sali would just throw your friendship away over nothing," Trace said. "Maybe we should get to the bottom of this before we toss him away as a friend."

"Hmmph." Ashe kept brushing.

"And Marco was only keeping his oath to Winkler. He wasn't looking to upset you or destroy the friendship. He wants to protect you just as much as Winkler, Trajan and I do. Kid, we're worried. We haven't heard from those folks you're related to and we're getting a little itchy over that."

Ashe spit into the sink and rinsed his mouth. "You think I’m not worried, too? Trace, how much more can I possibly be worried about right now? Care to answer that one?"

"No. If I had my way, I'd haul you to my parents’ farm and let you spend a week or two with Mom and Dad. Mom would feed you constantly and Dad would let you drive the tractor and the four-wheeler."

"That sounds like somebody's dream of grandparents." Ashe rinsed his toothbrush and slipped it inside the plastic holder.

"I think Mom and Dad would treat you like that—as a grandson," Trace smiled slightly. "They're always after Trajan to get married."

"So, nobody's on the horizon for him?" Ashe studied Trace's expression. Trace chewed his lip and hid a grin.

"I’m not supposed to ask, am I?" Ashe felt like smiling suddenly.

"Nope. Big secret. Come on, get in bed. We have to get up early tomorrow."