Bloodlines

by Alex Kidwell

  Randall had told him he needed to stop living in the future, which was very good advice, if Victor could manage it. Unfortunately there was no way to simply switch it off, so he had to concentrate on the here and now and the recent past.

  “Besides—” Randall huffed out a near-silent laugh, though it seemed to be lacking substantially in mirth. “—didn’t you already know I was going to do that? Can’t be that big of a surprise to you.”

  “Oh, er, not at all,” Victor said, flustered. He still wasn’t used to talking so freely about his visions. That Randall just openly asked about them was something quite new. “Of the dozens of possible lifetimes I see, it’s difficult to remember every minute of each.”

  He caught Randall looking at him, an expression on his face that, for lack of a better descriptor, was entirely wolfish. Not threatening, but more as if the resignation that had been worn was forgotten, as if all that intelligence had been focused at once on Victor in expectation. “So,” Randall mused. “I can surprise my medusa. That’s good to know.”

  Victor didn’t anticipate the warm flush that settled low in his chest at those words. My medusa. He wasn’t one to get in a tizzy about flirtation or possessiveness, but that had been rather attractive. “The very knowledge of possible timelines can disrupt them,” he said, taking off his glasses to clean them on the edge of his sweater, still feeling faintly flustered. “So I dare say we’re venturing off into unseen territory here.”

  They’d paused in their walk, Randall studying Victor intently. “I wish I knew if that would make a difference,” he murmured. “I’m afraid it’s too late, though. You’re always going to be afraid of what I might force you to become.” A sad half smile touched Randall’s lips. “Too bad. That was one hell of a kiss.” Before Victor could respond, clearly wanting to leave so that Victor didn’t feel obligated to, Randall nodded at him. “Thank you for the walk back. I’m sure I’ll see you shortly.” Another brief nod, another smile that wasn’t quite full, and Randall turned and made his way the short remaining distance to the Lewises’ cabin.

  Which left Victor staring at his retreating form, even more confused than before.

  With a short sigh, he went to his own cabin. It was on the smaller side but perfectly serviceable. As he showered quickly, he contemplated Randall—to say the man was baffling was putting it lightly. He had expressed clear interest, but now seemed to be blowing hot and cold by turns.

  David had been far simpler. David had pursued him, Victor had reciprocated that interest, and they had gone from there. David had been very clear in his intentions. Randall was far less so, it seemed.

  This whole situation was getting more muddled than Victor was used to. On one hand, he knew his own feelings. He knew that the thought of marriage and children and settling down was not something he was particularly interested in, and he was aware that Randall would want those things. With David, Victor had known those things were not on the table. Their intentions for their relationship had matched up nicely.

  David had not required a partner. He had had baggage, but that baggage had rarely seen the light of day. Randall, on the other hand, had a whole life that Victor would be jumping into if he reciprocated in kind—a life that included a family with an ill brother, with Randall trying to deal with becoming the head of the family and giving up his own future to do so. It was a messy, heavy situation that Victor would find himself in the middle of.

  It didn’t help that Victor was starting to feel rather pleased when Randall showed interest. The man was not at all who he seemed to be half the time. He was the very essence of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and that wolf was far more attractive than Victor had realized. He’d seen it in the way that Randall had kissed him, in the way that Randall had protected him during the fight.

  The shower started to run cold, and Victor cursed his overthinking, shivering his way through drying himself and getting dressed. If this situation were simpler, his mind would be so much clearer. The path forward would be clearly marked. Unfortunately, simple did not seem to be in the cards.

  He got himself properly put together and exited the cabin. Wolves were starting to move around the camp, getting things ready for the morning. Victor might not have a nose like theirs, but even he could smell the coffee starting to brew, the meat being fried in preparation for breakfast. His stomach gave a growl, but he’d never been in the habit of eating big breakfasts. It could wait until after their meeting with the Gray Lady.

  The thought made Victor laugh. What was he even doing here? He was a researcher by trade, a teacher, and here he was getting himself involved in a possible war. He honestly had no clue why Jed had even consented to bring him along.

  The walk to the Gray Lady’s house was thankfully short. The chill of the morning was starting to evaporate as the sun rose, at least, so perhaps the four layers that Victor had put on were not entirely necessary. Redford, Jed, and the Lewises were gathered outside the Gray Lady’s house when Victor arrived. Edwin was a short distance away, lying on the grass, while Randall and Anthony were sitting on the edge of the porch.

  Victor eyed Redford and Jed. He had absolutely no clue what was going on with them. They too were sitting together, but had a few feet between them, where normally they would be all over each other.

  “Good morning,” he said cordially to all of them, half distracted by the thought of the tea the Gray Lady would serve. He needed something to wake him up. “How are you feeling this morning, Anthony?”

  Anthony had his hands clasped tightly together, his nose wrinkled. Victor caught a whiff of something vaguely herbal smelling, though not nearly as pleasant as any herbal remedy he’d ever been near before. “Absolutely fine,” Anthony replied with forced cheer. “The doctors here gave me stuff for my hands, and it feels like it’s working.”

  Victor may not be able to look anybody in the eye, but even he could tell that for a lie. Still, for the sake of not bringing the mood down, he smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Randall shifted slightly, rubbing his hands on his knees, but he said nothing. He’d shaved off the stubble, his hair was slightly tamed, and he’d changed into a sweater and tie. There was something raw about him still. Victor wondered if it was something to do with how Anthony’s hands still shook, how tightly his fingers were clasped together to hide it.

  Before he really thought about it, Victor reached out to clasp Randall’s shoulder, hoping to give him some measure of silent support. He couldn’t very well say it out loud, not with Anthony right there. He felt the slight jump of Randall under his touch, but then the man relaxed into him. Randall’s hand stole up, long, cool fingers lightly brushing across the back of Victor’s hand in wordless thanks.

  The opening of the door caught Victor’s attention. Mallory gave them a quick look, quietly assessing, and jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Go in. She’s ready for you.”

  Anthony was the first to jump up and enter, followed shortly by Randall and Edwin, then Jed and Redford. Victor took the last place, as he was fairly sure he wouldn’t need to speak at all during this meeting, so it was less vital that he get a good spot.

  They had met with the Gray Lady a few times before, and Victor still found her to be a fascinating figure. Thus far he’d managed to restrain himself from asking a multitude of questions, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold off forever. It wasn’t very often that one met a figure out of the books, after all.

  She was as regal as always, sitting cross-legged at the front of the long room that served as her meeting room. Today the silk drapes covering the windows had been pushed aside to let the light stream in, and the whole place smelled of green tea. Not the kind of tea that Victor had been hoping for, but it would do.

  He let the others take more central positions in front of the Gray Lady and seated himself off to the side. It meant that nobody saw his embarrassing half slide onto the floor when he accidentally encountered the edge of a cushion he wasn’t expecting, which w
as just fine by Victor.

  Edwin sprawled out next to him, shoulder budged up against his, giving him a lopsided grin. “Randall made me wear pants,” he informed Victor. “And I’m not allowed to shift. He’s cranky.”

  “I appreciate the wearing of trousers too,” Victor said dryly. “Thank you kindly for your consideration.”

  Jed’s voice rang out, signaling the start of the official meeting. “So, sweetheart, we gotta stop meeting like this.” He dumped an armful of papers, books, maps, and the laptop onto the table.

  “I concur.” The Gray Lady arched an eyebrow at his mess. “What have you been up to, human?”

  “We found out who’s behind the hunters coming after you.” Unlike his usual tone, under the necessary bravado that seemed to keep Jed Walker ticking, he almost sounded weary. “It’s not good news.”

  “I have been discussing options with my people.” The Gray Lady steepled her fingers, considering Jed. “We’ve reached out to any other packs that may be in the area. At this point, I assume stray wolves are a danger to us all.”

  “Pretty much.” Jed unrolled a map, standing so he could mark out a few points. “Look, here’s how I see it. These guys are being bankrolled by a Leonard O’Malley. He’s rich. Like, let me buy an island rich. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but I do know his type, and this isn’t going to just go away if you sit quiet and pray.”

  “What other choices do we have?” The Gray Lady glanced around the room, shaking her head. “We are too many to simply disperse back into the human world. There are several who wouldn’t be able to cope.”

  Jed angled the maps toward her. “You run or you fight. Those are the only two options there ever are. I’ve found a coupla spots that might do you for hiding.”

  “Nearby?” The Gray Lady sounded intrigued. She leaned over the maps. “We’ve scouted this area numerous times, and this is the best place we’ve seen for our pack.”

  “Not nearby.” Jed shook out the map in question and pointed to a large blank area flanked by mountains on one side and a lake on the other. “Think seven states over. This isn’t a day trip. I’m talking complete Brigadoon here. You gather up everyone, every pack, every stray wolf, and you go deep underground. We’ll rent a train or a fucking bus caravan, whatever, and we head out. Set you up someplace so far off the grid that O’Malley’d have to crawl up his own ass to catch a whiff of you.”

  Victor had to take a moment to figure out exactly what that meant. After a few seconds of contemplation, he was forced to admit that he had absolutely no clue.

  “Or if you want to go on foot,” Redford joined in, “we’ve plotted out a path that would do it. It, um, wouldn’t exactly be ideal, though.”

  “Yeah, that could take weeks. Months, depending on if you’re carrying anything with you. It’s risky, and, frankly, there’d be some of you that wouldn’t make it.” Jed sat back, watching the Gray Lady. “I’d splash the cash and get a couple of semis, load them up and go as close as you could. Finish it on foot, but that cross-state trip would be a bitch.”

  The Gray Lady studied the maps, resignation dawning across her face. “So,” she murmured, “it comes to this.”

  “Jed and I really think it’s the best option,” Redford said softly, apologetic. “We’ve worked with O’Malley before, and we know his kind. He’s incredibly dangerous. He’ll have well-trained people on his side, better than the army could do. Even if the pack outnumbered them ten to one, it would still be too dangerous for you all.”

  “People would die. A lot of them,” Jed agreed bluntly. “This is the best shot you’ve got to prevent that.”

  A long silence filled the room. Edwin fidgeted next to Victor, leaning forward to tap the back of Randall’s leg. The brothers exchanged a look, neither one of them seeming happy. It hit Victor then, that this was the pack the Lewises had come to join. This was where they’d sought out what they believed to be Anthony’s last, best hope. If the pack moved seven states over, then they would be forced to choose between staying or uprooting their entire lives.

  “I will have to consult with the elders.” The Gray Lady was standing, dismissing them. “Thank you for your work, Journey Walker. I would appreciate if you would stay with us a while longer. We will need to formulate a more solid plan.”

  Randall frowned as the rest of them started to stand, moving as if to leave. “That’s it, then?” His voice broke into the muted conversations. “We’re just going to turn tail and run? Just like that?”

  “Kid, trust me, there’s not a lot of choice—” Jed started.

  Randall cut him off. “You said there were always two choices. Run or fight.”

  “Fighting would be suicide.” Arms folded, Jed shook his head wearily. “I applaud the balls behind the idea, but trust me, it’s not worth the bloodshed.”

  For a moment it looked as if Randall was going to let it go. The Gray Lady was watching him, gaze intent, weighing his words. Jed, however, had already dismissed him and was rising again to leave.

  Randall stood up, pushing aside the map. “And what do we do when this guy finds us again? Do we pick another remote spot? Do we live the rest of our lives in fear? Because that’s what it’ll be. Constantly watching our backs, constantly waiting for the day when stray wolves start disappearing again.” He turned to Jed. “Are you telling me that if we’re real quiet, if we hold really still, that O’Malley is just going to get bored of looking?”

  Redford looked like he was on the verge of defending the idea of running, but he faltered before he spoke, looking to Jed—who was shaking his head, tapping his fingers against his arms. “That’s a great speech,” he rumbled. “But if these guys find you, they will shred through whoever is in their way. That includes you. Dying bloody is never a good option.”

  “Answer the question,” Randall shot back. “Are you seriously telling us that O’Malley and the men like him are going to get bored and give up? That’s our great hope? We are going to go hide and pray, pray, that no one comes looking. That he’ll assume this big pack he’s hunting has suddenly disappeared.”

  Jed’s jaw jumped. He rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for all the world like he wanted to bark an order or force Randall to shut up. But in the end he muttered, “He won’t stop. Not until he thinks he got what he was aiming for.”

  “So train us,” Anthony said, standing beside Randall. “We might not be soldiers, but we can be taught. We can give ourselves a fighting chance.”

  “I’m not going to….” Jed paced away, blowing out a curse under his breath. He turned back to the Gray Lady, almost pleading. “You will die. People will die. What they’re asking is for me to arm them for suicide. I can’t do it. I cannot stand here and tell you that this is going to work. It won’t. What’s going to happen is you’re going to be standing out there with a gun in your hand, bullets raining down on you, and you will be listening to the people you trained beside, the people who were alive and whole and fine that morning, you will listen to them screaming. You will hear them begging a God who sure as fuck ain’t listening as they are mowed down around you. That is what is coming. That is war. It’s not going to be some goddamn inspirational movie about the plucky underdogs who stuck it to the man. It will be your friends, the people who you handed those guns to, bleeding out while you can do fuck all to save them.”

  In the resulting silence after Jed’s words, Anthony sighed. “If life isn’t a movie, Jed, you’re sure good at giving dramatic monologues.”

  Victor internally braced himself for the fallout.

  “Yeah, that’s all it is, kid.” Jed’s face was tight, his whole body tense. Victor was vaguely worried Jed was going to punch a wall. Or perhaps one of them. “Just a pretty story I’m telling.”

  “I’m not dismissing you, Jed,” Anthony replied. “You’re right. You’re completely right. It’s not a nice option. People will die no matter how well they’re trained. But it is their choice, and you can’t save them from it.”

/>   Jed all but growled. “I don’t save people. I’m not a goddamn hero. I’m here to tell you your best shot. That’s it. I’m not training up a bunch of fucking hippies to be soldiers.” He tossed the maps toward the Gray Lady, who was watching the exchange silently. “There you go. Listen to me, don’t, I don’t fucking care. I’m out.”

  Anthony made no move to stop him, though he looked like he wanted to. Mostly, he just looked sad, like he’d thought Jed had more loyalty than that. Victor wasn’t sure where he’d get that idea from—Jed had loyalty to himself and Redford, and that was about it. He had hoped Jed might find some friendships here. It seemed that might not be the case.

  Or perhaps Jed was just angry and desperate to stop them all from getting themselves killed. Victor could certainly relate.

  “Do you know anywhere that we might order guns from, then?” Anthony asked Jed. “Just in case we need them.”

  Jed didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and marched out, trailing curses behind him. Redford was right behind him, though he kept darting apologetic glances back to the Lewises. As the door slammed shut behind them, Randall turned to Anthony, about to continue talking.

  “That will be all.” The Gray Lady spoke at last. “I need to speak with my elders. It seems we have much to discuss.” She glanced over at Anthony as she added, “Perhaps no orders of weaponry should be made just yet. Not until we have determined the best course for the pack.”

  Anthony shrunk under her glance, embarrassed. “My apologies, ma’am,” he said. He looked horrified at himself. Perhaps, Victor thought, because all the dominant personalities in the group kept trying to make decisions on behalf of the pack, and he was one of them. “I won’t do anything before you have made your decision.”

  The Gray Lady simply nodded. Victor had the very distinct feeling they’d just been dismissed. One by one they filtered out. Edwin was oddly morose as he hung back by his brothers, and Anthony looked deep in thought. Mallory passed them, giving Anthony a nod as he headed out, presumably to gather the wolf elders.