by Alex Kidwell
“It would be,” Anthony said, a rare hesitation in his words. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Victor?”
“Absolutely,” Victor said.
Randall glanced over at him, trying to gauge more from the way his lips were curved, the set of his shoulders. “We’d just be guests,” he pointed out, half for Anthony, half making sure that he and Victor were on the same page. He wanted to go at a normal speed. Randall wanted the dates and the anniversaries of first kisses. He wanted to build something that would last. Just because he had instincts that were pushing for more, just because Victor had seen the future, that didn’t mean either one of them knew each other emotionally well enough for that.
Most of all, Randall didn’t want to be David. Or any of Victor’s other past relationships. If they were going to make it, they needed to grow into each other.
“I know.” Victor didn’t look at him, but he gently knocked his knee against Randall’s. “We’ve just only had our first date, after all. Moving in permanently would be moving the schedule along quite quickly.”
“So you’re going to play wolf hotel?” Jed smirked in amusement, leaning over to steal a bite of Redford’s pancakes. “You might want to invest in a carpet cleaner, princess.”
“I have people that do that for me,” Victor dismissed. “Or you could come over and do it, since you seem to have nothing better to do.”
“Fuck you, princess, I’ve got loads to do. Redford and I just got another job. Sorry”—Jed winked at Victor—“no seeing me in a maid’s uniform just yet.”
“I thought you guys were going fishing?” Edwin asked. “Redford told me how much you were looking forward to it.”
“It’s getting too cold to do it local.” Jed shrugged. “And helping out the furry clan took more of our resources than I would have liked. Just one more job and we’ll be finding someplace warm and remote and jetting off.”
Randall felt a quick twist of guilt—he was the reason Jed had done a job that had cost him more than he got paid. But Jed didn’t seem overly worried about it, really, and there hadn’t been anything forcing Jed to stick around. Maybe he’d wanted to do what he’d done for the Gray Lady. Or maybe Jed just honestly couldn’t walk away from someone asking him for help.
“Right, then,” Victor said, rising from the table. “If you’re going to be staying for the week, we’ll need to get packing. All you need is clothes. I can provide everything else.”
“Do I have to stay inside?” Edwin asked, looking more than a little worried. “It’s not one of those apartments up on some top floor where you can’t see the sky, is it? Because I think I’d rather drive. It’s the full moon soon, and being cramped up in a tiny place would suck.”
If Randall looked closely, he could see the curve of a faint smile in Victor’s expression. “Oh, no. Not at all. You have a choice of where in the house you stay, of course, and I think you’ll like it more than a cramped apartment.”
Edwin still looked unsure, but all it took was a look over at Anthony and he was nodding. “Okay, yeah. Sounds great.” A little unenthusiastic, but Edwin had never been that great at hiding his emotions. “Are we going straight there from the doctor’s?”
“Oh, yes.” Randall sat up, looking at his watch. “It’s just after ten. We need to get going in no more than twenty minutes. Pack fast.”
“We’ll tag along.” Jed gave Anthony a look. “Might as well. Our place is closer to the hospital than here, so we’ll just follow you up.”
“Trying to make sure we don’t run off the road?” Anthony laughed as he stood, gathering the plates away.
“Of course.” Jed easily took the plates from Anthony, Redford getting the rest off the table. “I’ve seen you drive, Lassie. It’s a miracle you’re still alive. And don’t get me started on Edwin.”
“Go pack, Anthony,” Redford said. “We’ll take care of the dishes.” Anthony looked reluctant, but he nodded and headed off to do just that. Redford immediately took the dishes from Jed, as if he didn’t trust Jed to know what to do with them. Which, fair point, he probably wouldn’t.
Randall headed into his room to gather his things, passing Edwin’s, where Edwin was stuffing clothes into a bag and looking more than a little worried. Apparently he didn’t much trust Victor’s opinions on what a wolf would like. Alone in his room, Randall tried to pack, he really did. It was a simple enough task. Choose clothes for the week, bring along a few books, some personal items. Nothing too difficult.
But he was stuck, staring at the clothes he’d laid out on his bed, suddenly second-guessing everything. What if this ruined things? What if they carted Anthony to yet another place, yet another bed, yet another doctor, and it didn’t matter? Was this the right decision?
Nothing he seemed to be doing was turning out the way he wanted it to. Why should this be any different?
Randall took a deep breath to steady himself. Right. This was what they were doing. They were packing; they were going to stay at Victor’s for the week. Anthony was going to have his assessment appointments, and they would find a way to treat him. End of story.
Ten minutes later, Randall was ready and heading out toward the cars. Edwin was already in Jed’s jeep, Knievel on his lap, his bag next to him. Anthony was with Victor, loading the rest of their things into the trunk of their own car. Once again, Randall locked the door of their house, hoping that this wasn’t going to be the last time. That when they returned, it would be with an Anthony who had some kind of faith again.
“We should get going,” he said, putting his suitcase into the trunk. “Don’t want to be late.”
Victor passed by him, briefly touching his back and giving him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay. If you hate it, you can come back to your home.”
Randall shook his head. “I’m more worried I’m going to like it,” he admitted lowly. “And that you’ll get sick of me being there too quickly. Or the fact that I come with two decidedly more rowdy brothers.”
“I’ve had a lifetime of being the only one in that house. I think some noise would be more than welcome.” Victor opened the door to Jed’s Jeep. “I’ll see you there.”
“You’re not riding with me?” A little surprised, Randall paused at the door of the car, looking over the roof at him. He didn’t want to be the clingy one, really, but it was an hour and a half ride of knowing Victor was in the next car over. Which suddenly seemed very strange.
“I can.” Victor seemed surprised at the offer. “I didn’t particularly think about it, I suppose. Is there room in your car?”
“I’m over here so you two can kissy face at each other and I don’t feel the need to puke,” Edwin informed him cheerily, leaning forward to look out the Jeep door. “Poor Anthony, though. I’m leaving him behind.”
Victor looked to where Knievel was perched on Edwin’s lap and rubbed his nose with a mild grimace. “Yes, I think the other car would be much more pleasant.”
“Come on, you two,” Anthony called, sticking his head out the window of the Lewises’ car. “You can even both sit in the back like I’m a taxi driver. Just get in, because we need to get moving.”
Randall slipped into the backseat and gave Anthony a grateful look as he buckled his seat belt. Victor sat in the seat next to him, and just that easily, they tangled their fingers together, resting joined hands on Victor’s knee. It felt so good, that simple gesture, the way they seemed to fit.
Anthony started the engine, which sputtered to life with a protesting groan, and they followed the Jeep out onto the main road. Randall watched the rearview mirror, their home seemingly growing smaller and smaller until it was swallowed by the trees.
Chapter 19
Victor
EVEN IN a mansion with forty-six individual rooms, two rowdy wolves somehow managed to make the place seem full. Once, Victor might have complained. Now he couldn’t help but smile at Anthony and Edwin bickering over the dinner table, Randall sitting exasperated between them.
In
the end, Randall had not moved into Victor’s room—they’d agreed that doing so would be moving a little too quickly, though Victor had noticed Randall lingering in his room as if he wanted to get a feel for it, exploring every nook and cranny of the shelves and the adjoining office area. Randall had picked a room two doors down from Victor’s bedroom, while Anthony and Edwin had taken their rooms a little farther down the main hallway.
None of them had really unpacked yet. Anthony’s appointment had been entirely run of the mill. The doctor had told them that the real results would start to come in at the end of the week, and they just had to be patient. After that, the Lewises had seemed exhausted, listless even, more interested in crowding together in the living room than exploring the mansion. Victor just did his best to be a good host.
For dinner, Victor hadn’t even tried to cook; he’d ordered in from a nearby steak house. The dinner table was packed with various dishes, and Anthony seemed determined to hoard the fries for himself, playfully growling at Edwin whenever Edwin’s hand strayed too close.
Victor finally got himself sat down next to Randall and tried to decide if he was brave enough to join the food fray. He leaned in close to Randall and whispered, “Would I get growled at if I took that steak?”
A smile touched Randall’s lips. Instead of replying, he reached out to take the piece of meat Victor had indicated. Sure enough, as soon as his fork touched the steak, Edwin growled at him. But Randall simply showed his teeth, growling back, before they both grinned at each other and Randall victoriously deposited the requested food on Victor’s plate.
Victor clamped down on a laugh. It really was like living with, well, a wolf pack. He couldn’t even bring himself to mind the mess and the noise. In fact, he rather found himself liking it. They were Randall’s family, and as much as Victor didn’t usually get on with people, he did like Anthony and Edwin.
“You have a yard,” Edwin pointed out, happily cutting into his very rare steak. “And woods. I really wasn’t expecting that. You seem too, I don’t know. Stuffy.”
“For a yard?” Randall gave Edwin a look, eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t aware you had to be a certain type of person for that.”
“No, I mean, there’s just a lot of room to run. Stuffy people don’t normally have room to run. That’s why they’re stuffy.” Infallible logic dispensed, Edwin went back to his food, attempting again to steal some of Anthony’s fries.
“My grandparents and their parents before them were stuffy,” Victor agreed. “But they also liked to own a lot of land to show off their wealth, so in the end it’s a benefit.”
“I saw all those portraits in the hallway,” Anthony said around a mouthful of steak. His eyebrows were drawn down, a question in his expression that he seemed hesitant to ask. But he finally said, “It’s okay if I look at the portraits, right? A picture of an old-school medusa won’t steal my soul or something?”
Well, that was a fear Victor had certainly never heard before. “No, they’re just oil paintings.” He started to smile, bemused. “Did you already avoid looking into their eyes?”
Anthony’s answer was mumbled, but it still sounded distinctly like a yes.
“What if they already have stolen your soul,” Randall intoned, completely deadpan. “How would you know? Maybe you’re soulless.”
“It could happen,” Victor agreed easily. “Perhaps older medusas had that power, to steal souls when they’re long dead. Maybe that’s why my mother’s family had the portraits made.”
Anthony looked unsure, his gaze darting between them. “You are joking, right?”
“Oh my God, I looked at all of them.” Edwin’s eyebrows were beetled together in distress. “What’s going to happen to me?”
Victor couldn’t restrain his smile anymore. At the sight of it, Anthony immediately slumped in relief. “They’re just kidding, Edwin,” Anthony said, scowling at them both. “I was about to start checking myself to see if I’d begun to turn into stone. I’ve heard too many creepy old stories about medusas.”
“There are just as many creepy stories about wolves.” Randall’s tone was mild, but Victor could see the protective tenseness in his shoulders. “We know better than anyone that old stories aren’t necessarily true. Especially not ones written by humans.”
Anthony looked apologetic and silently slid his closely guarded bowl of fries over to Victor. “Sorry,” Anthony said. “That was really rude of me, especially when you’re putting us up in your home.”
Victor just waved a hand. “Think nothing of it. I’d actually be interested in hearing those stories later. They’d be quite helpful for my research.”
“What’re you researching?” Edwin, seeing the fries had been moved from their fortified position, decided to take a daringly bold approach and just lunge for them. Anthony smacked his hand away, and Edwin sighed, glowering. “You are one. Seems silly to research yourself.”
“We’re a quickly fading bloodline,” Victor replied, not bothering to hide his smugness as he took fries without getting his hand slapped, “since many of us go insane before we have children. That, and we’re just not all that cleverly evolved to hide and manage our abilities, not like wolves or other types of half bloods. I feel something of a sense of obligation to document us before we vanish completely.”
“You should have kids,” Edwin said, stealing another steak. “A lot of them. After you guys get married you could get one of those… what are they called, Ant?”
“Surrogates.” Anthony looked like he’d had this kind of conversation with Edwin before. “But not everybody wants to have children, Edwin. And not everybody wants to have a surrogate, either.”
“And not everyone who dates gets married.” Randall’s words were a little tense, his gaze flicking over toward Victor and away again. “In any case, Victor has a lot of years to decide that, and for now, I think it’s admirable that he’s assembling a work on medusas. They are a fascinating race.”
A warm flush of pride made Victor smile. He didn’t often feel that being a medusa was something to be proud of. Somehow, Randall made it sound like it should be. “Thank you,” he murmured, privately pleased. Randall’s hand found his, as it so often seemed to, squeezing gently.
They ate the rest of their dinner amidst chatter between the wolves, which Victor listened to but didn’t feel the need to join in. Honestly, it was just nice having company in this big, old mansion, so much so that he really didn’t mind that Edwin threatened to throw food at Anthony. He would have made them clean it up, of course, but it would have been amusing.
Victor was content to occasionally lean his shoulder against Randall’s as they passed food between them, sharing bites of various dishes. He had never particularly wanted domesticity, but now that he had it, Victor was starting to find that he quite liked it. There was just something so peaceful about being by the side of someone he trusted unconditionally, sharing the smallest of things with them with no need for the usual small talk.
When everyone had eaten their fill, Anthony made motions like he wanted to start cleaning up, but Victor’s stern expression stopped him in his tracks. “You are going to have a relaxing evening,” he ordered. “There’s a living room with a television at the end of the hall.”
“We’re going outside.” Edwin looked determined, hands on Anthony’s shoulders. “You were cooped up in that hospital all day. Even if you’re too tired to run, we’re going to go out in the woods, and you’re going to get some fresh air.”
“Thank God,” Anthony sighed, glad for the offer. “Your mansion is lovely, Victor, but after the hospital, any four walls and a ceiling feel too close.”
“Not at all. Go have fun. Just don’t kill anything on the adjoining properties,” Victor said. “The last thing I want is my irritating neighbors raising a fuss about predators in the woods.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Randall grin, quickly ducking his head as if to hide it. Victor gave him a curious look, but Randall was apparently tryi
ng too hard to bite back laughter to answer. At what, Victor wasn’t sure.
“Okay, then we’ll see you guys later,” Anthony replied. “And hey, just so you know, we’ll be out of earshot. So we won’t be hearing anything that comes from this part of the mansion.”
“Thank you,” Victor gritted out around a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”
Anthony slung his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, and as they left, he just grinned back at them before turning the corner. Victor had to wonder if Anthony was already anticipating that they’d go further than simply seeing each other. He seemed incredibly invested in keeping them happy and together.
Yesterday, when he and Randall had arrived home from dinner, they had agreed on another date tonight. Unfortunately, with the rush of the hospital appointment and getting their belongings to Victor’s house, planning any grand ideas had slipped Victor’s mind. They’d already eaten, so that was out.
He thought he might have a better plan.
“Would you like to take a walk around the gardens with me?” he asked Randall.
A slow smile spread easily across Randall’s lips, softening the tense worry and exhaustion he seemed to be carrying around so heavily. “I feel very Victorian Romance in this, but I would very much enjoy that, yes.”
Just to play up the theme, Victor offered his arm. “There’s no time like the present, then, is there?”
Randall slipped his hand into the crook of Victor’s arm. “Lead the way, good sir.”
The gardens were never something Victor paid attention to. He appreciated them, but he had absolutely nothing resembling a green thumb, so he employed landscapers to keep them in shape. His mother, he recalled, had loved the gardens. She had spent a lot of time out there, clipping the roses and making sure everything was well structured and growing according to plan.
