Bloodlines (19 page)

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Authors: Alex Kidwell

BOOK: Bloodlines
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Victor leaned forward to peer out the windshield. “Goodness,” he remarked, looking fascinated.

“Holy fucking LARPers, batnerd.” Jed hung his head out the window, staring around, eyes wide. “What the hell is this place?”

Redford thought that might be a good question. He leaned over alongside Victor as they continued to drive, his gaze darting back and forth, trying to take everything in. The clearing the camp was set in was massive, circled by thick tree cover. As far as Redford could see, there were cabins lining the edge of the circle, rough-hewn, hand built but sturdy looking, some so small they must only be a single room, some that must surely fit a few dozen people.

To the right stood larger buildings that Redford thought might be for community use. He twisted his head to look through the windows of one as they drove past, and stared in stunned silence at the rows of desks covered with books and pencils, young children attentively watching a teacher write on a blackboard.

“Jed, they have a
school
,” he said, reluctantly turning away when he could no longer see through the windows. He caught a glimpse of a playground at the back of the school, a clearly hand-built slide and a seesaw, kids in human and wolf form alike playing happily.

There was a painful kind of sadness on Jed’s face as he watched them, one fuzzy wolf darting around underneath the slide, apparently on the receiving end of a game of tag. For a long moment, Jed didn’t say anything, fingers tightening on the wheel as he followed their escort to park the van alongside a building. “Yeah, Fido,” Jed finally answered, quiet, voice thick as he ducked his head, checking his weapons, tightening the straps on his chest holster. “I see it.”

Redford moved aside as Victor got out of the van, but didn’t follow. “What’s wrong?” Redford frowned at Jed. “Did you not like the school you went to?”

Jed seemed to be taking quite a long time to check all his guns. “My school was just fine,” he said, words clipped, jaw tight. “Not my school that I’m thinkin’ about, here.” Before Redford could form the next question, Jed was swinging out of the van, tossing the keys to Anthony with a sharp whistle. “Come on, Red. Time to meet the furries.”

Redford, as he hopped out of the van, worriedly hoped that the wolves wouldn’t be insulted by Jed calling them
furries
. Knievel seemed content to march alongside their feet, tail thrashing in irritation when Jed attempted to pick her up. Randall was grabbing his clothes out of his bag, having changed back. Edwin didn’t seem so inclined. Hopping on one foot as he got his shoes back on, Randall gave him a slight smile as Redford closed the van door behind him and looked out into the camp. They had parked near one of the bigger buildings, though Redford couldn’t guess what it was used for—his gaze was more drawn to the bonfire set in what looked to be the direct center of the camp. There were wolves gathered around it, relaxing, reading, some of them curiously looking back at the newcomers. Redford instinctively hunched his shoulders and put himself near Jed’s side.

“The Gray Lady is expecting us,” Anthony called, absently dodging as Edwin—still a wolf—ran past his legs. “Jed, lose the weapons. This isn’t a war meeting.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening, Lassie.” Jed didn’t even look at Anthony, his eyes restlessly roaming over the camp, the buildings, his shoulders tense. Jed didn’t like to be put in situations where he didn’t know the lay of the land ahead of time. Redford could see his gaze darting to the shadows of buildings, the edges of the bonfire, the thick darkness of the trees beyond the camp.

“Jed,” Anthony tried again.

“You got fangs, princess fluffy?” Jed snapped. “You got teeth? Well I’ve got my damn guns. So shut up and keep walking.” Redford could hear Anthony give a sigh, but he let the conversation drop. With every step, Jed seemed to get more irritated, fingers tight around the butt of one of his guns. He dropped to the back of the group, suspiciously studying the wolves they passed.

Edwin found this all rather funny, apparently, chuffing at Jed’s knees before taking off in a run toward the large cabin they were approaching. “Edwin,” Anthony barked, a sharp tone of urgency to his words.

It was echoed in Randall’s more desperate, “Edwin!” His ears going back, Edwin skidded to a halt, looking over his shoulder mournfully. Redford glanced between the brothers and saw Victor doing the same out of the corner of his eye, wondering what was happening.

Anthony put a hand on Edwin’s nape. “We’re in unfamiliar company.” Redford could only barely make out Anthony’s words. “What’s more, we’re in the home of the oldest wolf alive. You can stay as you are, but please don’t run around like a pup who thinks he owns the place.”

Edwin’s ears were pointed back, his tail still for the first time Redford could remember. After a moment, Edwin huffed a sigh and rolled over, showing his stomach with a whine. Randall rolled his eyes. “And stop acting like we’re beating you, just because we want you to behave.”

Wriggling his body, Edwin arched his head up, blowing a huff of air into Randall’s face. Randall’s stern expression didn’t falter, but he, along with Anthony, gave Edwin’s stomach a pat. “I know, I know. Lots of stuff to smell,” Randall agreed with a sigh. “But later, okay? They might kick us out.”

Redford sidled up to Randall as they continued walking. “Didn’t Anthony let him off really easily?” Filtiarn—the alpha, the wolf in charge—would have reacted much more violently had any wolf under his command disobeyed him. “I haven’t been in a pack in a while, but I remember punishment being, um, harsher.”

Randall gave him a baffled look but didn’t have time to speak. Anthony said, “We’re here.”

The wolves that had guided them into the camp had sat themselves nearby, and Mallory nodded toward the entrance of the building. “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Nervously, Randall straightened his sweater, pausing to fix Anthony’s collar. “It’s going to be fine,” he murmured to his brothers, stooping down to fuss over Edwin’s messy fur. “Just let me talk. It’ll be fine.”

Anthony gave Randall a look; it seemed to Redford that he wanted to speak, his mouth even opening as if to start. But Randall didn’t need to meet his brother’s eyes in order to immediately cut him off. “We’ve talked about this, Anthony,” Randall said quietly.

“Doesn’t mean I like it.” Anthony sighed, pulling back to fidget with his shirt himself, purposely undoing the top button Randall had just finished putting into place. “It’s my place.”

“But this was my idea.” Randall sounded so practical, so matter-of-fact, but Redford could see faint creases of worry lining his face. “Do you want to flip a coin?”

“Yes,” Anthony grumbled.

“Too bad.” Randall’s hand paused halfway toward reaching out to Anthony, a low breath leaving him. “Ant….”

“I know.” Anthony didn’t sound happy, but he moved to close the distance between them, shoulder butting up against Randall’s palm. “It’ll be good. We’ll all be fine.” Randall’s eyes met Anthony’s, a silent conversation between the two; Redford felt suddenly awkward to be staring. He’d just never seen wolves interact like this before. He was half expecting Anthony to snap, to show dominance. Instead all he did was allow Randall to once again fix his shirt buttons, snapping his fingers once to get Edwin’s attention. Edwin had apparently gotten distracted, rooting around under a nearby bush, but at the sound he immediately jerked around and came trotting back up to them, tail wagging happily.

“You’re a mess,” Randall informed Edwin archly.

Edwin didn’t seem to mind. Randall and Anthony, though, immediately set out to try to brush dirt from his fur, much to Edwin’s apparent distress.

Knievel was helping, grabbing Edwin’s head between her paws and aggressively grooming the fur between his eyes before she stalked off to find Jed again, crying at him until he sighed and stooped, letting her jump up and settle onto his shoulders. Even Victor was running his hands through his hair, trying to look presentable. Redford chanced a look down at himself and grimaced. Perhaps he should have dressed nicer?

Edwin whined softly, nudging his nose into Randall’s shoulder. Randall bowed his head, rubbing a hand over his brother’s ears, obviously worried. But then he stood, brushing off his slacks. “Right. Okay. We should—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Never one to hesitate, Jed brushed past them all and strode into the cabin, rapping on the door as he passed. “We’re here, sweetheart. Let’s get this over with.”

Redford winced as he followed. Normally, Jed’s way of doing things didn’t faze him, but there was an air of reverence to the cabin and the wolves waiting outside it. He could hear the Lewis brothers behind him, Victor at the very back, as they made their way through a short hallway that opened up into a wide meeting space. It was lushly decorated, brightly colored silk hanging over the windows, plush chairs lining the edges of the room. The only light within was provided by candles and the sunlight that struggled to filter through silk.

The Gray Lady herself was sitting cross-legged at the edge of a lavish rug woven in many different colors. Like the room she surrounded herself in, she was regal in appearance and brightly clad, dress nothing more than soft folds of fabric gracefully draping to the floor, her white hair falling loose around her shoulders. The candlelight seemed to flicker in dark eyes as she opened them, lips parting in a white smile against olive skin. She seemed young and old at the same time, an ancient sadness in her gaze even as she moved elegantly, welcoming them all in. “Come, my children,” she said, sharing her smile equally with Redford, Randall, Edwin, and Anthony. “Sit.”

Jed started forward, his hand at Redford’s elbow, to be stopped by a low growl. The Gray Lady’s eyes flashed yellow, her smile never fading even as her expression darkened. “Not you, human. You may stand, if you must be present. But this is a conversation for wolves.” Her mood shifted slightly as she nodded to Victor. “Half blood, you are welcome to listen. Keep the human in line.”

Redford glanced at Jed, unsure. He didn’t want to sit now that Jed had been refused it. The choice was made for him by Anthony’s hand at his elbow, tugging him down until his knees buckled and he sat awkwardly. “Sorry, Jed,” he murmured, reaching over to curl his fingers around Jed’s calf, wanting to keep in contact.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Anthony said, his head bowed. He’d placed himself closest to the Gray Lady. “Thank you for agreeing to see us.”

“I would ask you how you found me, little wolf,” the Gray Lady said, tone kind once more. “But I can smell Filtiarn’s foul work from here. I take it you have sought me out, werewolf?” All eyes turned to Redford as the Gray Lady sat, expectantly awaiting his response.

Redford flinched under the weight of her gaze. “Sorry,” he said automatically. Did he smell bad to wolves? He really hoped not. He hated to think that riding in a van with him might have been awful for the Lewises. “And no, that’s not exactly why we’re here. We, um….” He looked at Anthony, waiting for him to jump in and save Redford from himself.

But when it came time to speak, Anthony seemed to hesitate. He’d curled his hands into his lap, the same knotted stiffness that Redford recognized as Anthony attempting to stop the shaking. So it was Randall who stood, bowing before the Gray Lady, all that nervousness and quiet restraint bundled up and forgotten. He spoke softly, yes, but there was a strength to each word. “My lady. I’m afraid we came with Redford because we weren’t sure you would see us otherwise.”

“And why would I deny you?” she asked, head tipped to the side, watching Randall carefully.

“Because our parents were once part of your pack. We are the Lewises.”

There was a long pause before the Gray Lady clucked her tongue with a quiet, “I see.”

“We’ve come back because we need your help, my lady. My brother, Anthony, he’s sick. You’re the only hope we have for a cure.” Randall took a step forward, hand reaching out to the Gray Lady, pleading. “Please. I will do anything. Pay any price. Just… help my brother.”

“And what would you have me do?” The Gray Lady turned to Anthony. “What ails you, wolf?”

“If you can’t help, I understand,” Anthony said hastily. “It may be beyond your ability.” He glanced back at Randall and Edwin. “But human doctors can’t help me. It’s….”

He hesitated again before saying it, like he was embarrassed.

“Canine Parkinson’s,” Anthony finally said with a sigh. “It’s degenerative.”

The Gray Lady stood, going to her window, looking out over the camp. The sound of voices filtered in, the noises of a thriving pack, the smells of meat cooking. It was all so calm and peaceful, like something out of one of the books Redford had read in his childhood. It was a home. “Do you know why your parents would not have been welcome here again?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at the Lewises.

“Not exactly, ma’am,” Anthony said politely, though his expression had tightened. “But I can hazard a guess.”

“There are men who hunt us. There is a world that does not know of our existence, a fact which I work very hard to maintain. A lone wolf is a danger to all of that. One family, one mated pair, it is not a pack. It’s a risk that I cannot allow. Letting you come back after your parents chose to leave, what would that say? How would I begin to explain to the rest of the pack why you should not be shunned, as we shun all others who chose to walk away from our protections? As we shun those who put all of us in danger.”

Jed shifted beside Redford, lips tight, fingers curling around his gun. He cut a quick glance over at Anthony and stayed silent, though it was clear he desperately wanted to make a point.

Anthony drew in a deep breath. “If you’d like to shun us, ma’am, I’ll accept that decision,” he said, his tone still polite. A thread of steel crept into his voice as he continued, “But we are not our parents. We did not make the decision to leave. And if your decision to shun us is based solely on how difficult it would be to explain to others, we’d be glad to leave however quickly you’d like us to.”

There was a long, tense moment, Jed shifting a step closer, Edwin’s hackles rising as he backed up against Anthony’s leg. But then the Gray Lady smiled. Tight and powerful, yes, but she smiled and waved her hand. “Go. You wolves may stay the night so I can think on this matter. Your human and half blood may even join us for the evening meal. I will meet with you in the morning to discuss this further.” She reached out, taking Anthony’s shoulders in her hands, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. “For now, Lewis pack, leave me, and sleep well.”

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