Grenville

by JC Hay

  “Pretty sure they have rules, Sarge. That means certain things are specifically unfair.”

  His battle buddy, Ren Inouye, tossed an arm around Grenville’s shoulder and leaned in. “Don’t worry, boss. He spanks it with the other hand. No harm done.”

  “What can I say? I like the three-finger grip.” He spread his right hand wide. “It’s like getting a handy from an alien.”

  Marcel rolled her eyes, unable to hide her chuckle. “You’re damaged goods, Gren.”

  More than you know. He kept his smile light. “Nah, I’m the only honest fucker in here. You need me to speak the truth every once in a while.”

  She grinned. “Just don’t ‘speak the truth’ in the showers. That’s all I’m asking. We all have to use those.” She headed to the locker rooms to join the rest of her fireteam.

  Ren watched her go, and when she was out of earshot turned to give Grenville a dour look. “Okay, Marcel’s gone, so I can talk freely. How did you put it when you were talking to me about Lucia? ‘You’re fucking it up, man.’”

  Rakhi Chen, the fireteam’s support weapon expert, walked over to join them. Her grey tank top was dark with sweat, and her gray-black hair was plastered to her forehead. “You’re talking to a wall, Inouye. He’s invested in being miserable.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you two are on about,” Grenville lied. He wasn’t invested. But he also knew when to accept it. The one thing his family had taught him—being alone meant never having to disappoint someone else.

  “Just because I can’t talk to your wolf doesn’t mean Nujalik and Djehuti don’t talk. Or Inari.” Chen glanced at Ren for confirmation. “They’re not exactly solitary animals.”

  “I’m not going to turn my back on you, or the rest of the rangers. The pack is eternal.” He almost spat the words from the wolf-bonding ceremony, where a wolf and their ranger were linked together for the rest of their lives.

  “No one’s asking you to,” Ren said. “But it’s like you said—the pack is eternal. We watch out for each other. And not just on the battlefield.”

  “It’s a bad idea, and you both know it. Hell, if the wolves are talking, every ranger in the constellation probably knows it.” He took a long sip from the bag of lukewarm water, buying himself some time to think. “It’s not as if there’s a version of reality where one or both of us don’t get discharged.” Though if it were him... It wouldn’t be fraternization once he wasn’t in the military.

  “You don’t know that.” Ren folded his arms across his chest. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “Easy for you to say. Your girlfriend’s not giving up the forces for you. Or pissing away her life’s work.”

  “No, she’s turned her back on her whole family instead. And spending days waiting on bases and stations for me to make port.” Ren shook his head. “Djehuti likes her, didn’t you tell me how rare that was?”

  “That was a bond. This is... I don’t know.” Grenville shrugged, fighting against the desire to run from the only family he cared about.

  Chen squeezed his shoulder gently. “I think you do know. And your wolf’s been trying to tell you what you’re too stubborn to admit to yourself. If not for you, think about Djehuti. Isn’t his happiness worth a little risk?”

  “Even if I wanted to, that bridge is burned.” He’d seen to that when he’d snapped and accused her of cowardice. He’d used a secret she’d shared with him as a weapon, and he’d seen the moment any hope of reconciliation had ignited and collapsed in her eyes. And all it had taken was a bit of casual cruelty on his part.

  He always had been his mother’s son.

  “You won’t know that unless you confirm it. Hell, your wolf chose you. You must not be all bad.” Ren grinned.

  Grenville forced a chuckle he didn’t completely feel. “That’s true. Djehuti has better taste than either of your two lapdogs.”

  “Nujalik will take the rest of your fingers off if she hears you say shit like that.” Chen made a snapping motion with her hand, like jaws closing, and gave a cold grin. “Then it’s no more alien party time for you.”

  This time the laugh was more natural. They might have come from all over the Three Systems, but the rangers were the most family he’d ever had. If he could have them and find a way to have Imee in his life, he had to take that chance.

  A door to the court opened, and a ship’s ensign strode into the room, his duty uniform crisp. “Which of you rangers is Grenville?”

  Panic opened a cold void where his gut should have been. There were only a few reasons command crew were seeking him out, and none of them were good. He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Me, sir.”

  “Come with me please, Ranger. Commander Penzak wants a word.”

  WHEN GRENVILLE CAME into Commander Penzak’s briefing room, he was reasonably certain it wasn’t to prep for another covert mission. The Ghost stood, reading an omnidevice in one hand, the other tucked behind him like a kind of permanent parade rest. He didn’t look up when Grenville entered, which was a bad sign. No one else was in the room waiting, which was even worse.

  “Take a seat, Ranger.” Commander Penzak’s voice sounded hollow, detached, the same as it always did, but in the quiet of the room, it carried a level of impersonal menace that was hard to shake. Even harder to disobey.

  Grenville snapped off a quick salute and a “Sir, yes, sir” before dropping into a chair on his side of the table. He rested his hands on the glass surface, then changed his mind and put them on his thighs instead, but not before his damp palms had left a mark. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from asking any questions, but the nervousness continued to scrape the base of his neck, trying to force him to act. Djehuti paced, just as nervous as he was but with less ability to keep it under wraps. He signaled to his wolf, and the animal sat, watching them both with night-black eyes.

  Finally, the commander set his omni on the table and cleared his throat. “I suppose you know why you’re here.”

  “Sir, no, I’m not sure.”

  Penzak glared at him, the fractured amber of his gaze unreadable. “Really. So, I don’t need to stand here and give you the lecture about what fraternization looks like, or how it undermines the chain of command in the military. Even when it crosses branches.”

  Icy worms writhed in what was left of Grenville’s belly. “You don’t, sir. Unless you feel like you need to, that is.” Djehuti huffed in frustration and lowered his head.

  Commander Penzak glanced at the wolf, his features softening for an instant before returning to their normal granite. “Does your wolf have something to say?”

  “No, sir.” The cowardice of the automatic denial shamed him, almost as much as the scorn that ripped through him with Djehuti’s judgment. “Actually, sir. That’s not entirely true.”

  The commander’s eyes narrowed. Grenville wondered how many rangers before him had sat in this same position. Well, none in his exact same position probably, but in something similar. With an angry commanding officer, and the knowledge that the conversation coming wouldn’t make them any happier.

  “My wolf,” he started, and Djehuti offered a quiet growl of warning. “And I,” Grenville quickly appended, “find ourselves at something of an impasse. You’re the one who always tells us to listen to our bondmates, trust their instincts.”

  “I’m listening.” Penzak leaned forward, fists pressed to the table, his tan skin tightened to white at the knuckles.

  “The wolves choose us, and that makes us family. But what if they choose more than one person?”

  “A dual-bonded wolf is a rarity, Ranger. Just because your battle buddy won the lottery doesn’t mean every wolf is finding your true love somewhere.”

  “I’m not talking about a dual bond. Hell, even Ren’s not sure what’s happening between him and Lucia and Inari.” He realized he’d used the familiar name, and his old boot camp habits came back hard. “I mean Lance Corporal Inouye, sir.”

  “I know who you m
eant. I’m not so old that I can’t remember the names of thirty-two rangers.”

  “You don’t have them written on your arm or anything?” Grenville chuckled, but the commander’s glare quickly murdered any mirth. “I mean of course not, sir. All I’m saying is that Djehuti is really drawn to Im—to Lieutenant Lewis. I don’t think it’s as strong as a wolfbond, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing there. Hell, he nearly attacked me when I was angry with her...”

  “Your wolf...” Commander Penzak pushed away from the table and paced the length of the room twice before coming back. “Your wolf. Attacked you.”

  “To be fair, sir, I was being an asshole at the time.” Which was more than true. If Chen and Inouye were right about anything, it was that he owed Imee an apology. He wanted to owe her so much more than that, but he wasn’t in the mood to dream higher than what he deserved, which was a slap in the face and a tender go fuck yourself. “And, as I was saying, he treats Lewis like she’s part of his pack.”

  The commander stabbed his fingers through his short hair. “That doesn’t change the issue. There’s a gap. And I can’t exactly promote you to officer. She’s too good a pilot to have her demoted.”

  “That’s not an option!” Grenville snapped the words out in a panic. Of all the things that couldn’t happen, she couldn’t be removed from the cockpit. Even if she was okay with it, he’d never allow her to trade all her successes for him. His gut churned, but the option in front of him was the right one. After swallowing to clear a path for the words, he whispered, “But I could be drummed out.”

  “You swore an oath, Ranger. The pack is eternal.” The commander’s cheek twitched, his jaw barely moving against the tension in his voice.

  “And believe me, I wouldn’t suggest it lightly. But at the same time, I’ve certainly been insubordinate. And there’s the aforementioned fraternization. Surely that’s got to be enough to force a discharge.”

  “And you’re willing to have that happen. You understand that your wolf would not be discharged with you.”

  Panic and sorrow clawed up his throat. He looked down at Djehuti, who walked over to place his broad, furred head in Grenville’s lap. He combed his hands along the wolf’s tufted ears, throat burning unexpectedly. “Would he still be able to see her?”

  “He couldn’t stay with her. He’s a Ranger. But she could visit. She couldn’t bring him to visit you though.” Emotionless, the commander’s voice sounded like a death sentence.

  Grenville leaned down and pressed his face to Djehuti’s. Nuzzled between the wolf’s tufted ears, he could smell the wild on his partner. His friend. Giving him up would be worse than losing a part of himself. “What do you think, mate?”

  Djehuti whimpered, licking at Grenville’s clothes quietly, the wolf’s distress and sadness a physical weight in Grenville’s chest. “I can’t, sir. It’s not fair to him. Without a partner, he’ll...” wither and die. Grenville couldn’t say the words out loud. It was the curse of the wolfbond. That the two lives were inextricably linked. And when the bond was broken; well, the commander was evidence of what it did to the human partner.

  After a long silence, Penzak let out a sigh. “There have been allowances in the past, but I need to know you’re sure.”

  “I know my wolf’s sure, sir. As for me, I’m too well aware of my own failings to be certain of anything.”

  The commander took another walk the length of the table. “Those allowances came with heavy restrictions. She couldn’t fly on a mission where your team is involved. You couldn’t be deployed on a mission where she’s flying.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a hardship, s—”

  “And you’d have to be married. It’s the only bond the Forces recognize other than the wolfbond.”

  Grenville’s mouth went dry. She’d be stuck with him. If things went south, and they always did when he was involved, then the blowup would damage both of their careers, as well as Djehuti’s sanity. It was a terrible idea, even if she was dumb enough to say yes after seeing what an asshole he could be.

  But if it worked out, they’d have everything. He could feel his wolf’s sense of hope, bright and weightless in his chest next to his own.

  “Sir, I couldn’t make that sort of decision without talking to her first.”

  Penzak’s tight lips curled at one corner. “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve said, Ranger.”

  Thirteen

  The Hunting Cry’s two active patrol boats launched from the front bay, the opposite end of the ship from the heavier dropships and superiority fighters that could transit atmosphere. Of the two locations, Imee had her preferences, but the forward hangar also didn’t have a lot of traffic from the GroPos. Seeing Grenville hurt too much, reopened too many scars for her to risk any more than necessary.

  Though to be fair, he hadn’t even been in the mess at the same time as her for more than a week. She’d fallen into the drudgery of Ops work that made up the majority of her non-flying time. Two of the wing’s mechanics were going through maintenance on her boat, and since she technically did their personnel reviews, she was overseeing the work as an excuse to stay forward. Boredom was better than sitting through simulations training.

  At least Akomi tagged along for the trip, though her roommate had gone to the far side of the area to review the latest FASTOPS updates and make certain the wing was still operating within the Joint Forces’ standards. Imee was about to offer her roommate a coffee when a cold nose pressed into the palm of her hand and sent her away from the mechanics’ trolleys with a yelp of surprise.

  Once she’d recovered, she turned and went to one knee. Djehuti was more than happy to amble into her waiting hands, and she stroked along the wolf’s back gently. He squirmed and wiggled under the attention, then dropped into a play bow. The wolf’s happiness sparked along her nerves, lifting her out of the dour mood that had been plaguing her. “I missed you too, dog.”

  “You know he hates when you call him that.” Grenville stepped out from behind a bulkhead, while his wolf rolled over to let Imee rub his belly. “Though apparently, scritches take precedence.”

  Imee pushed down the quick flood of warmth that flooded her when she saw him; easy enough to do since the pain of his past accusations burned in her throat, and the stupidity of thinking she could capture that lightning in a bottle came rushing back hot on its heels. There were so many things she wanted to ask about why he’d sought her out, but she settled for confrontation. “Don’t usually see you ground pounders in the fore.”

  Grenville had the good grace to look sheepish, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I knew you’d be up here, and Djehuti wanted to see you. He misses you.”

  She scrubbed the wolf’s ribs with her fingers, and he growled his happy response. “Well, he can come see me whenever he wants. Yes, you can.” The wolf braced his paws on her shoulders, licking her face as she baby-talked. She laughed and set him back down. “Okay, that’s enough.”

  “I miss you too.”

  The sadness in his voice tore in her chest like a barb. “Yes, well, we both know why that is.”

  “Yeah, we do. And while I don’t expect you to change anything, or want to see me, I need to apologize to you.”

  She glanced over at the two mechanics, who had both stopped working to watch the exchange. “If you all aren’t working, you can go to the lounge and take a break. Now.”

  The two offered her a quick salute then dashed off toward the exit.

  Once they’d gone, she turned back to Grenville. “I’ve heard that before, and it was bullshit then. Why should I listen?”

  “Honestly? You shouldn’t. Neither Djehuti nor I deserve the time of day from you.” He studied the deck plates and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  “Hardly. The wolf didn’t do anything wrong.” She looked over at Akomi, but her roommate wasn’t providing any support, studiously staring at the manual in her lap while she clearly strained to hear every word.

 
“Then for his sake, I hope you’ll hear me out.”

  She folded her arms and leaned back against the nose of the patrol boat. “The mechanics will be back eventually, so you’d best get on with it.”

  He glanced after them, the worry on his face plainly written, but the two hadn’t reappeared suddenly. “I fucked up.”

  “Go on,” she replied. This wasn’t the Grenville she knew, and the absence of his usual self-assuredness made her feel off kilter.

  “That’s just it,” he said. “I’m used to talking. I’m not used to saying things. This is hard. And there’s a lot. I shouldn’t have undercut your decision about facing down those Triptych goons. I sure as shit shouldn’t have tried to tear you down because I was feeling jealous and scared. But there’s a hundred other ways I’ve probably fucked things up that I didn’t even recognize at the time. Still don’t. But that doesn’t make it right. I’m a firm believer that apologies are meaningless if you can’t name what you’re apologizing for and why it hurt the other person, but I’m hoping you’ll let me get away with promising that I try to do better?”

  She mulled it over, then asked the question she’d already figured out the answer to. “Why jealous?”

  “Because it felt like I was losing Djehuti. He’s the only family I’ve got.” The wolf heard his name and padded back to his bondmate’s side. Grenville got down on his knees to card his fingers into the wolf’s thick ruff. “I’ve never had any decent role models for relationships, so I don’t actually know what I’m doing. It’s easier to keep it casual, because—”

  “Because then you can’t get hurt.” She shook her head. “But you also can’t heal.” Behind his amber eyes, she could see the boy he’d been; angry and alone, without someone to help him carry his grief.

  He nodded. “Someone a damn sight smarter than me told me that you couldn’t achieve anything worthwhile without risk, and you can’t fly if you’re scared of falling.”