Control (16 page)

“Yes, sir,” I said, going immediately to my kitchen sink, glancing around at touches that were clearly my mother’s and not his. “She sent you with all this stuff?”

“As you know, your mother went with her book club to Denver. They are having a food-tasting excursion. I don’t know what that means, but she said, ‘Drive me to your son’s house before I go so I can drop off the wreath for the door and the mums and candles.’”

“God. Look at all this,” I said, chuckling. “Fall corn, roasted chestnuts, and what is this?”

He shrugged.

“They look like roses made out of leaves,” Robert commented, picking one up, his voice wistful. “These took a lot of work.”

“Every year,” my father told him, pointing to the stack of plaid blankets in various shades of orange. “This is her tradition.”

“Does she decorate for Christmas too?”

He squinted at Robert. “We’re Jewish. She decorates for Hanukkah.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Robert said quickly, giving me a scathing look, like I was supposed to have shared my religion with him.

“No reason to be sorry,” my dad said frankly. “You didn’t know because apparently you and Vy don’t speak of these things. Now, sit down and eat and tell me what you do talk about.”

He’d made butternut squash soup with roasted pine nuts and sage and brought sourdough bread over to use for dipping, and my mother had made strawberry yogurt parfait for dessert.

“I understand that if you sprinkle the soup with pieces of bacon it adds to the flavor, but I will never know,” my father said.

“Robert’s a vegetarian,” I told my father. “So he wouldn’t know either.”

“A vegetarian bear,” he said, nodding. “That is interesting.”

Robert was staring at my father, and I wondered what he was seeing. My father was a handsome man with his sharp, vulpine features, piercing hazel eyes, and thick gray-and-silver hair. Even more importantly, he commanded respect. When he had decided that he wanted me to step up and be kuar three years ago, when I was twenty-five, leaving him kuaret, or counselor of the kuar, I had been worried. He was beloved and respected, and just the idea of following in his footsteps was daunting. But he wanted to see me fully ensconced in my role with him having many years to aid me. I knew that in some kets, fathers and sons fought for the role of leader, and I had always felt sorry for those men. I was blessed with a father who loved me more than himself.

“This looks wonderful,” Robert said, and I could hear the sincerity in the words.

My father ladled soup into my big earthenware bowls, passed out the bread, and then brought salt and pepper to the table. He poured both Robert and me huge glasses of ice water and small glasses of Riesling.

“I drink more than this,” I told him.

“You have been drinking enough, I understand.”

I groaned.

“And you are so distracted by this man that you fall off things and don’t remember your lessons of control and leadership.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

“Is that true?” Robert asked, placing a hand on my thigh. “Vy?”

I turned to look at him. “The mate thing has sort of thrown me. I’ll get a handle on—”

“The ket is all up in arms about you, Robert the Bear,” my father explained, pinning him with his steady stare. “Do you know why?”

“Of course. They’re afraid I’ll hurt them.”

“Yes. But do you know why?’

“Yeah, because I’m a bigass scary bear.”

“No.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “They are unsure of their kuar, and so suddenly you are a concern.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If the members of the ket thought that their kuar could handle you, then they would have no reason to fear you. As it is, because they wonder about him, you frighten them.”

“What are you talking about?” I queried my father.

He kept his focus on Robert. “The kuar must always be perceived as being the strongest. Even if it is not true, the ket must believe it. They have to have faith that their leader can both protect them from external threats and punish those within the flock who don’t listen or obey. All of this, they must believe. So when they see you, a big strong bear, an outsider who the kuar seems to have no control over, it raises alarm bells in their heads. They’re afraid Vy cannot control you, and if he cannot, then they could be revealed as shifters and hurt in some way.”

“But that’s—”

“I have heard many different versions of how you held up a car, Robert, so powerful you are. They did not speak of the kuar saving the boy, but you.”

We were both silent.

“To maintain balance within the ket, to keep the peace and garner respect, the kuar must appear to be the strongest without question. It is not your presence that has upset them, it is not the bear you are that they fear, but only that their kuar cannot control you.”

“So you’re saying they would have no problem with me if they thought Vy had me on a leash?”

“Not a leash, just under his power.”

Robert turned his beautiful big brown eyes on me. “That should be an easy thing to convince them of.”

My stomach rolled at the way he was looking at me, but then I reminded myself that it was simply lust and nothing deeper. He wasn’t seeing me as his mate, just a piece of ass.

“No,” I insisted. “It’s not necessary. All they have to do is meet you, and they’d know you would never hurt anyone for any reason.”

“Sometimes, there is a reason,” my father insisted. “In a perfect world, none of us would ever have to fight. But that is seldom the case.”

I scoffed. “Robert doesn’t even shift; he definitely would never find a reason to fight.”

My father regarded him. “How are you certain you’re a bear if you’ve never shifted?”

“I’ve shifted,” Robert began. “I just—”

“It must have frightened you, the loss of control,” he said, still staring. “Is that why you don’t trust your beast?”

Suddenly Robert had both of us looking at him, waiting.

“I don’t—I’m not,” he said, and I felt the unease rolling off him. “There are other—”

“You don’t need to explain,” I said quickly, reaching out to put a hand on the back of his neck and squeeze gently. “You don’t owe that to either of us.”

“Vy,” Robert said gruffly, “it’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. I just… it’s not a simple thing.”

I nodded, dropped my hand from him, and looked at my father. “So, how’s Mom’s gazebo looking, old man?”

His brows furrowed. “Yes, yes, you were right. The oak was the wrong choice; the cedar would have worked better.”

I grinned wide, and my lip let out a twinge of protest. My father put a hand on my face and patted my cheek gently.

“Eat, because I want you to shift and then shower.”

I groaned.

“Yes, I know, but you need to heal some of this damage like you did when you were shot.”

“Shot?” Robert chimed in.

I turned to him. “It was a year ago.”

“What happened?”

“I think they were hunting pheasant,” I said, glancing at my father. “Wasn’t that it?”

“It was duck,” he corrected me.

“That’s right,” I agreed, my gaze back on Robert. “But I was there, so I think they figured, why not.”

Robert looked pained.

“It was lucky I hit water instead of the ground, so that woke me up and I shifted.”

“He makes it sound so simple,” my father told our guest. “It was not. When he shifted, the bullet dislodged, and he almost bled to death.”

I shrugged.

“He had to shift again and fly to my house. His mother and I found him.”

Robert grabbed my father’s hand, and much to my surprise, after a moment my father patted him before drawing away.

“I almost lost my son,” he whispered. “I cannot outlive my child.”

“Stop,” I ordered, my gaze locked with my father’s. “Pass the honey.”

He gave me a trace of a smile before he complied.

The rest of the conversation was easy and light, and after dinner I went outside, stripped down, and shifted while Robert helped my father with the dishes. It was nice that they had a lot to talk about—carpentry, the environment, places they’d both visited, and beer. My father was quite the connoisseur, and so was Robert, it turned out.

When I got back from my quick flight around the neighborhood, inadvertently scaring the hell out of the bats hovering around the light poles, I came back to my porch, where my father was waiting for me with a blanket from my couch.

“Thanks,” I sighed, leaning into him like I normally never did.

“I like him, your Robert.”

I shook my head. “He’s not mine, Dad. He has no idea what being a mate means.”

“Neither do you,” he said pointedly, holding me out so he could see my face. “You have never been a mate, my son.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Simply because your hawk recognizes his mate doesn’t mean you know how to be a good mate. Perhaps patience is the first thing this man is supposed to teach you.”

I hadn’t actually considered that. “But he can’t ever love me like I need.”

“What do you need?”

There was no way I could confess my deepest desire to my father. I longed for Robert to manhandle me and hold me down. I wanted him to make me feel his love with such passion I would see in marks and bites on my skin. It was more than could be expected of an ordinary man. “I need a mate, not just a partner.”

“Again, since you have never had either, I find your statement quite ignorant. You have no insight into the depth of your Robert’s heart. In my experience, assuming something never works out well.”

“You’re saying a man who’s not my mate can love me the same as a man who is?”

“I’m telling you that you’re missing the blessing that he already is. I never dreamed your mate would be other than a hawk, and I hoped that your mate would be other than a woman. I didn’t imagine either of these things would ever come to pass. But Robert is a man, and he’s not a hawk. Amazing. Be thankful for the gift you have received.”

“It’s killing me,” I confessed.

“Take a breath,” he suggested. “Now, go in and take a shower and rest. I will take care of the ket tomorrow.”

My laughter was evil. “You sure?”

His chuckle was just as wicked. “They think, ‘Oh, Vytautas, he is so hard on us.’ Ha! Wait. Those children have never worked as you did for me.”

I almost felt sorry for them. Jecis Aleknos was a taskmaster, and they would fly their little wings off for him tomorrow. “It made me the strongest hawk in the ket,” I reminded him. “I know that.”

He hooked a hand around the back of my neck, dragged my head close, and kissed my forehead. “I will see you soon.”

I watched him walk to his huge Dodge Ram, stop, wave and then climb in. I stayed on the porch until all I saw were his taillights, and then I walked into the house.

Robert was drying the last of the dishes.

“Oh, man, you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go take a shower. I can finish the rest of that so you can go. Thanks for coming over. My dad really liked you.”

He put down the cup he’d been drying and crossed the room to me. “I’d really like to talk to you a little.”

I was about to tell him it wasn’t a good idea when there was a knock on the front door. Before I could move, Robert was there.

“Oh, hey,” Carlo mumbled, walking by him to get to me.

I waited.

He crossed his arms and frowned. “And?”

“Yeah, so,” I muttered. “About the other night… you know.”

“’Kay,” he said, clearing his throat. “Change or whatever, we gotta go.”

“Go?” I almost whined.

“You’re volunteering this weekend, remember? Front line. We’re going to Colorado Springs now. We’ll be back Sunday night.”

“Where are you going?” Robert asked.

Carlo swiveled to look at him, keeping his feet planted in front of me. “We got some brush fires to fight, brother.”

“Oh no,” Robert instructed him. “He can’t do that. Are you looking at him?”

Carlo turned to fully face him. “Volunteers on the front line are as important as firemen dropped in the middle of a blaze, and I know Vy wouldn’t fuck around on his word. If he promised, he’ll follow through.”

“He can’t—”

“You got no say, man,” he informed Robert. “Who are you? Only a mate has a say.”

“Go wait in the car,” I directed the ruffled mate of my ahir. “I’ll be right out after I shower.”

“You can shower at the site drop when we get there. Throw a change of clothes in a bag and come on.”

In front of other members of the ket, Carlo would have never been so bossy. But in private, just me and him or me, him, and Lou, his natural dominance came out. I had never minded.

Leaving the room, I went and changed quickly into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, washed my face, stuffed things into a backpack, and was back out in the living room in time to hear Carlo yelling and Robert holding his hands up and taking deep breaths in an effort, it seemed, to remain calm.

“Volume does not equal caring,” Robert was explaining to Carlo.

“Whatever, man,” he scoffed. “You yell, you get mad, people know you give a fuck.”

“Passion can be expressed in other ways besides punching walls or raising one’s voice.”

Carlo made a face like Robert was full of shit before he turned and saw me. “Let’s go.”

I nodded, tossing him my bag. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He grunted and left, hurling my door open and charging out onto my porch. I walked over to Robert. “Sorry, he’s a big macho jerk sometimes.”

“Vy,” he said softly, resting his hands on my shoulders. “You need to rest your body, and the middle of a forest fire, where you’ll be in danger from—”

“It’s okay,” I soothed, smiling up at him. “But it’s really nice that you’re worried. Everybody else thinks they know best what I need, like Lou, or need me to do something, like the ket, but just you and my folks actually worry. Thanks.”

He bent, wrapped his arms around me, and held me tight. Then he slid one hand to the small of my back. “You’re not the guardian of the whole world, Vy.”

“No, that’s true. Just my tiny piece,” I said, easing free as he leaned to kiss me. “Being friends is a good place for us to start over.”