Bloodlines (90 page)

After a second of silence, Jed felt Redford lean against his shoulder. Yeah, yeah. Caring and sharing time. “Anyway,” he muttered gruffly, scowling out at the water. “Probably not so much about catching fish.”

“Probably not.” Anthony patted the shoulder that wasn’t being taken up by Redford. “But you’ll get your beach fishing eventually.”

“Yeah.” Jed cast again, watching the bobber make a wobbly arc back out to the water. “Think I just like the idea of being on the ocean. Been around it a lot, but most of the time I didn’t get to just relax or anything.” Hell, most of the time he’d get dropped in someplace in the dead of night or get carted in after three days with no real sleep, do his job, and get out again. Leisure time was kind of a new concept.

Anthony made a noise under his breath that sounded like a laugh—one that he hadn’t wanted to give proper voice to, but had made its way out nonetheless. “Well, if you ever need a water fix, we’ve got a little dingy you can take out on the lake. Fishing isn’t great anymore, but the water’s still there. For now.”

“What, you afraid it’s going to run away?” Jed gave Anthony a sideways glance. “Didn’t realize that lakes were that mobile.”

“It’s drying up slowly.” Anthony cast his line out with a casual ease born of years of experience. “The fish are nearly gone, and this year the water level has gone down half a foot. There used to be someone here that tended to it, but without him”—Anthony shrugged—“it’ll be gone in five or ten years.”

“Why?” Jed reached out a leg and poked the toe of his boot in the water, as if he could somehow see it retreating. “I mean, is that even normal?”

“It misses him,” Anthony said softly. “It got used to his company, and now that he’s gone, it doesn’t want to stay. I tried everything, but water isn’t my expertise.”

Okay, that didn’t make any sense. Jed exchanged a quick glance with Redford, who looked just as baffled as him, before figuring he might as well ask. “What the fuck are you talking about?” As far as Jed knew, water didn’t have
emotions
.

Anthony only looked at Jed quickly before he started laughing. “I’m sorry, Jed,” he said, grinning ruefully. “That probably didn’t make a lick of sense to you. There used to be someone that lived nearby that I used to see all the time when I was a kid. He was a half blood, a selkie, and whenever they live near water, the water prospers. But he had to leave, so it’s like… giving a plant some really good soil and then switching it to sand. So the lake is drying up.”

“So these sookie people, they make lakes grow?” Jed frowned, again looking over at Redford. “Did you know that?”

“I don’t even know what a selkie
is
,” Redford said, apologetic.

“It’d be a long explanation. But the mermaid myth came from selkies,” Anthony explained. “They don’t make lakes grow, they just…. I guess it’s difficult to explain.” Even though Jed was trying to wrangle his fishing line into doing what he wanted it to, he couldn’t miss the way Anthony’s voice took on an edge of nostalgia. “Vilhehn would come to the lake about once a week. We’d go out and swim in the middle of it, and he’d say things to the water, he’d sing. I never knew what he was saying. But every time, we’d catch an extra big fish for dinner, or the water wouldn’t be so cold the next morning.”

“That’s your guy, right?” Jed settled in, legs kicked out in front of him, looping his free arm around Redford to play his fingers along his side. “That Vil whatever. He’s the one who left?”

Anthony let out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he replied. “He had to leave and I had to stay. It didn’t work out.”

“Want to talk about it?” Jed asked bluntly, figuring he wasn’t going to pry if this would send Anthony off into some sort of crying fit. Or, worse, make him start hugging people.

“I pretty much just said everything there is to say.” Anthony patted Jed on the shoulder. “It’s a short, sad story that I do my best to not really think about most days.”

“So that’s it, then?” Seemed kind of like a raw deal to Jed. “You liked some guy a thousand years ago and you’re just stuck?”

“I’ve tried to date,” Anthony admitted. “About a year back, I had a two-month relationship. Before that I managed to stay in one for about three months. It’s not like I’m literally physically unable to be with anybody else, it was just… well, nobody else ever came close.”

Jed looked over at Redford, who was oddly silent, staring out over the water, just letting the conversation wash over him. “You should go after him,” Jed pointed out quietly, his eyes on Redford. “It’s always worth it to go after them.”

Anthony was one of the most openly emotional people Jed had ever met. Every single thing he felt expressed itself on his face, so seeing him nearly blank now was a little disconcerting. For a brief moment, a horrible, sick look passed over Anthony’s eyes, but then it was gone again. “I can’t now,” he said flatly. “The doctor said no exerting myself too much. No long travel. No hiking across the mountains to a beach that no airplane goes to.”

Jed nodded, considering things. “Want me to find him?” he offered quietly, gaze returning to the water. “Can’t say I’ve ever tracked down mer-dudes, but I’m not half bad at finding people who don’t want to be found.” Unless they were pain-in-the-ass vampires. “He should know, Ant. You know he should know.”

“No, he shouldn’t,” Anthony said. “He has a different life now, things he needs to do for the sake of his people. He doesn’t need to hear about some sick wolf halfway across the world.”

“Look, I’m not Oprah or some shit. I don’t know much about anything. And I’m not an expert. Just… if you wanted.” Jed shrugged, uncomfortable. “I’d want to know. For the record. So would you.”

“Maybe one day.” Anthony started reeling his line in—the first of them to catch a fish so far. The fish that came out on the hook was so tiny that nobody would bother with it, but Anthony took it anyway.

Jed reached out to poke it, fascinated. “Are you going to eat it?” he wondered. And then, frowning, “What part is the fish stick?”

“I thought I might give it to Knievel,” Anthony said, smiling a little. “And there’s no actual
part
that’s the fish stick. Fish sticks are disgusting.”

Redford fidgeted beside Jed—Jed recognized that movement. Redford was trying to gather up the courage to say something. “Anthony, um,” Redford said tentatively, “I just wanted to ask. You didn’t seem too happy at the cure.”

The smile dropped off Anthony’s face. “It’s stupid,” he sighed. “I know it’s stupid. I
am
happy. It’ll be expensive, but we’ll figure it out. It’s just… the side effects. And what I’ll need to do. My senses will be dulled. I won’t be able to shift much, the doctor said. I can’t run. It feels like I won’t even be able to be who I am. I won’t be a wolf, not really.”

“You’ll be alive,” Jed pointed out. “Nothing else fucking matters, man. I’ve seen some shit. Guys blown apart in front of me, legs ripped off, eyes popping like grapes, and you get down to the core of it,
who you are
is
alive
. Everything else you figure out. You get a peg leg or you wear a fucking eye patch, whatever. Long as you’re breathing in and out, that’s what’s important.”

“I know.” Anthony’s shoulders had slumped, his head bowed. “I do know. I’m sorry. I probably seem like the biggest asshole in the world right now.”

“Nope.” Jed nudged his shoulder against Anthony. “You sound like a guy who just got his legs blown off. It sucks. And you get to be pissed about it, because it isn’t fair. I’m just sayin’, don’t go too far down that road. It gets real dark, real fast.”

And then he was engulfed in a one-armed hug. What the hell was it with Anthony and hugs?

“Thanks, Jed. For everything.” Anthony squeezed him tighter.

“You’re a freak,” Jed muttered, scowling. But he bumped their knees together, and maybe,
maybe
, he didn’t mind it as much as he let on. Just because Anthony was an idiot and it was hard to stay irritated with idiots.

Anthony took pity on him and let him out of the hug. “Jed,” Redford announced, excited, “Your line is moving.”

“What?” Sure enough, it was. Whooping, Jed stood, prancing forward and then back, all but flailing. “What do I do?
What do I do
?”

“Reel it in,” Anthony laughed, standing with him and putting one hand on the fishing rod. “Don’t rush. Just wind it back steadily.”

Tongue poking out from between his teeth, Jed tried to follow Anthony’s directions. Nice and slow, he turned the crank and eased the line back. The fish jerked on it, pulling away, and Jed cursed loudly, surprised at the fight. Instinctively, he let go of the reel, and the line ran out, the fish swimming away. Anthony jumped in, helping him, and together they reeled it back again, slowly, sometimes letting the line out a bit more, sometimes fighting the fish as they brought it in. Finally, with one last hard turn of the reel, they hauled a giant bass out and onto the sand. Jed’s eyes went round with shock as he watched it flop around.

“Holy shit! I caught Moby Dick!”

Redford looked positively gleeful beside him, kneeling down to help Anthony hold the fish still. “Jed, you probably caught the biggest fish in the lake,” he enthused. “Do you have your phone? You have to take a picture.”

Jed was grinning so wide it hurt, fumbling to get his phone out. “Oh my God, can we frame it? Like those big deer heads?” He took a picture of the fish next to Redford, almost dancing in victorious joy. “Anthony! Look how huge it is!”

Anthony didn’t look as excited as they did, but his little smile was heartfelt. Jed noticed his gaze dart toward the lake, and he seemed to say something under his breath, though Jed didn’t catch the words. “You can frame it if you want,” Anthony finally replied. “But it looks to me like it’d make a
really
good dinner.”

“Yeah, that,” Jed agreed with a nod. “Let’s eat it.” He paused, hands on his hips, staring down at the flopping, scaly fish. “How the fuck do you eat it?”

I
T
TURNED
out, you could roast the whole damn thing. Eyeballs and all. Jed found himself hovering in the kitchen, fascinated, watching as Randall cleaned the fish and put it in the oven, just like that. He was once again told that there was no
fish stick
portion, which seemed kind of sad to him, but they had that going and a rabbit stew, and Victor and Randall were happily working shoulder to shoulder to cook the vegetables. Randall even had some kind of apple dessert thing baking.

In short, everything smelled
really
good.

Knievel was happily chowing down on her minifish while the rest of them gathered around the table. Passing plates and drinks, the casual conversation petered out to nothing as they all dug in. The food was so damn good that they all were perfectly content to eat rather than try to come up with small talk.

When they were down to scraping their plates—or even licking them, in Edwin’s case—Anthony took a deep breath and said, “We need to talk about the future.”

“Good idea,” Edwin agreed. “I think we should definitely take a vacation at Victor’s when it gets colder. I bet his pond thing would freeze, and I
really
want to try ice skating.”

“That’s not what I meant, Ed,” Anthony said gently. “I meant your future, and Randall’s. Whether or not this treatment works, both of you need to start having lives, not just sitting around looking after me.”

“Anthony….” Randall hesitated from where he was pouring coffee. “I’m not sure we need to talk about this. We’re doing just fine how we are now. My job is going to help a lot with expenses, Edwin is going to go up to Victor’s with me three times a week, and with that extra income we’re going to be a lot better with bills.”

“I didn’t mean just money either.” Anthony scrubbed a hand over his face, looking frustrated at himself. “I’m not saying this right. You should go to
college
, Randall. Edwin, you should figure out what your passion is, what you want to do for a living. If the treatments work and I can get out of bed, I’m going to go get my old job back. And if these treatments
don’t
work, you need to start thinking about those things anyway so you can be properly set up for your futures.”

There was absolute silence. Not a lull in conversation, not even a moment of thought before words started to flow again. Just silence. As if Anthony had suggested they all merrily skip off of a cliff. Randall looked blank, like he’d been shut down and put away. Edwin wasn’t moving, staring at the table, lips pressed together tightly.

“I wish I didn’t have to say this,” Anthony said. “But you’re my brothers. And I need to look out for you both, because neither of you seem to be doing it yourselves, lately.”

A wince crossed Randall’s face, but he still wasn’t talking. Edwin stood up. “Shut up,” he told Anthony, voice cracking. “Just
shut up
. We… we’ve done
everything
, okay? And I didn’t say a word. We went and found the pack, we came home, you used
goop
on your hands, like, what the hell? Who actually thought that was going to work? But we did it. Because you are family and
that is what we do
. So don’t sit there and tell me to start thinking about the future, okay? Because I don’t want to. If there’s any version out there where you’re not in it, I’m not looking. I refuse. You can’t make me.”

“You’re going to have to,” Anthony said bluntly. It looked like even just saying the words hurt, but he did it anyway. “We all knew what loss felt like when we lost our parents. And there is every possibility that you both will have to go through it again. It’s not nice, it’s not
fair
, but it’s
happening
. And if the both of you are at square one and have no prospects for your futures if I check out, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“If you die, then I’m just going to too,” Edwin shot back. “So shut up and stop talking about this.”

The snarl that Anthony gave made even Jed flinch back. “Don’t you
dare
,” Anthony said hoarsely. “You think it’s funny, saying that? Jesus, Edwin, Randall’s right there. You’d leave him too?”