by Danae Ayusso
“How long before I can go home?” Beowulf asked with a chuckle; he wanted to see Akia before she headed back to Boston.
“With the latest body found less than a kilometer from the estate,” Seff said, rubbing a hand over his polished bald head, “it’s hard to say. They’ll want to search the manor, but there isn’t enough evidence to warrant that yet. Voluntarily permitting them to search might give us some ground with the Inspector, however there is the obvious problem with that. The boys have done the needful, and Kid has been kept offline since that brat goes out of his way to find trouble… His hacking skills are as criminal as they are impressive.”
He chuckled. “As strange as that blue hair child is, he truly is impressive and coming along well. Lou has done a wonderful job with him.”
“You two and your Strays,” Seff grumbled under his breath.
“My old friend, you were once a Stray,” Beowulf reminded him with a smile and reassuring pat of the hand. “Haven is just that, a haven for Strays that deserve one, and that is why we must address this problem proactively and aggressively. Discretion might not be an option any longer, but we must try.”
Seff nodded his understanding; discretion meant hiding a body and securing proof of death for the Covenant.
There was a knock at the door of the interrogation room Beowulf and Seff were sitting in before Connell popped his head inside. “Has the defense rested?” he mused.
“Is the M.E. done with the report on the latest body?” Seff asked, not amused in the least.
“Yes, and the ball breaking Lieutenant that crawled up my ass for the entire autopsy is brokering the terms of the suspect’s release as we speak. It might be house arrest with a babysitter from Boston, but it’s better than the cinderblock and metal cot the Inspector was ready to offer,” he explained.
Seff softly growled under his breath. “Findings?”
Connell cocked a black eyebrow. “Later,” he said, and they nodded their understanding.
Pierre and Akia joined them. “Pending the most recent findings,” Pierre started, glaring at Beowulf, “and our limited resources, you will be released with conditions.”
“And those are?” Seff asked, acting as legal representation.
“House arrest,” Akia said, giving him a look. “Your client will be required to check in three times a day at set times from a landline phone, if a check in is missed it will revoke the terms of the release agreement. Also, due to the medical conditions of your client a home monitoring device will not be an option, thus your client will be required to have onsite supervision. I have no allegiance or ties to your client or the Haven Police Department, thus I will be an impartial receiver, of sorts, and Dr. Dreary has assured me that the amenities would be accommodating for an officer of the law, regardless of my badge being State issued. Does your client agree to the conditions of the release?” she asked in a cold, detached tone.
To maintain appearances, Seff argued the terms of Beowulf’s release, stating they were an insult to his client.
Beowulf simply sat there with a small smile on his face as he watched his daughter in action. Akia wasn’t vociferous or argumentative, Pierre and Seff were, and the woman said very little as the two men argued, but when she did speak, it effortlessly silenced the other two and caused Beowulf to be flooded with pride that his little girl, his precious and once broken daughter, was a strong woman that now demanded respect with simply her presence. She spoke with conviction and finality, and as if she could sense the argument before it could leave their lips, she countered it with eloquently spoken words that instantly silenced them.
Never had he seen anything so beautiful, and he was so very proud to call her daughter.
The comparison to Akia when she left home to the woman in front of him now was as different as night and day. When she left, she was weak and almost fragile—mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically—and she was flooded with shame, so much in fact that she couldn’t even say goodbye. Her eyes were always on the floor, and she’d cower when someone raised their voice, and flinched at every perceived physical threat. The last year she was home she had started to come out of the reserved shell she had always been in; Connell speculated it was due to hormones leveling out and reaching adult levels. Beowulf hoped that it was because Akia was finally starting to trust those she called family, and that she would continue to grow and mature.
Akia left before he could see it firsthand.
Of course it’s a pleasant surprise to see her now and in police mode. It amused him on some level because when she was younger she had commented more than once that she didn’t like law enforcement or guns. Now she was carrying a sidearm and proudly wearing a badge, and it suited her, Beowulf thought.
“That is enough,” Beowulf said, interrupting Seff. He was tired, hungry and wanted to go home and spend some time with his daughter. “The terms are better than the alternative,” he said, giving his oldest friend a look, “and I must rest. All of this excitement has taken a toll on my old body,” he said with a chuckle.
Pierre glared at him. “Fifty is hardly old,” he scoffed. “de Wolfe, I will be expecting a call once you are settled.”
Akia nodded. “Of course, Sir. I’ll meet you back here tomorrow morning to go over the latest findings, and I’ll put together a profile for you and your Officers. Shall we?” she asked, turning to the others.
Seff and Connell sat in the backseat of Akia’s Jeep, and Beowulf sat in the front, next to his daughter, his sole attention on her as she drove. He knew she was irritated. She had yet to stop drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, and as much as he wanted to pull her into him and hug her tight, they had to maintain appearances since a cruiser was following them home.
When they approached the tall, iron gate marking the driveway to Verulfr Manor, Akia slowed. “Take care of it,” she said, and Connell nodded then hopped out of the Jeep in order to close the gate behind them, blocking the cruiser’s entry.
Without another word, she drove down the long, tree skirted driveway leading to the one place she swore she would never return to. When she put the Jeep in park in front of the three story stone and brick home, the urge to double over flooded her, and beads of sweat dotted her hairline.
Beowulf noted her physical change and the trepidation flooding her. “We will join you inside. Let Fae know that dinner will be served shortly,” he said, motioning for Seff to take Connell inside to give them privacy.
Once the front door closed behind them, Akia started, “Why in the hell didn’t you call me right away?! After the first body?” she demanded without turning to regard him.
Beowulf chuckled. “Because you were busy with your life,” he said with a smile.
She glared at him from the corner of her eye. “That isn’t funny, Father. You should have called me, to let me know what was going on. I would have rearranged some things in order to come back and help with the problem.”
He sighed contently.
“What?” she asked, finally turning to regard him.
“It’s nothing,” he assured her with a smile.
Akia gave him a look. “Father, I am not in the mood. I am starving, just found out that my father was arrested on suspicion of murder, there’s a Stray running around the Island, one that is purposely targeting my family and father, and I had to assist with an autopsy with a Medical Examiner that sings at the top of his lungs while working… I cannot believe he hasn’t been committed yet.”
Beowulf chuckled. “Give it time. Connie is a special kind of creature, one that doesn’t allow the darkness of the world to shadow him. He sings because it keeps him from succumbing to the darkness of humanity that he must face on a daily basis. You should respect him for being able to separate himself from his work as he does.”
“I respect him as a very talented doctor and M.E.,” Akia admitted. “But I cannot respect the way he approaches his work. The childish antics were disrespectful to each victim and their families. Death
should be respected-”
“And life should be enjoyed,” he countered warmly, with a smile. “We each deal with death in our own way. You, sadly, have always embraced the darkness and shadow which is death. Connie has always tried to illuminate those shadows and darkness with humor and light. You cannot fault him for that. Come, dinner will be ready soon and then we’ll catch up,” he said and got out of the Jeep.
Akia softly growled under her breath, well aware that he was trying to change the subject.
Beowulf opened the driver side door then offered her his hand.
She shook her head in resignation and took his hand, and he pulled her out of the Jeep and into his arms and hugged her tight.
“Welcome home, Daughter,” he whispered.
Akia returned the embrace and hugged him tight. “Thanks, Dad.”
****
“Huh,” Ulrik huffed, looking out a second story window. “I was expecting more,” he commented, watching the couple in the driveway hug.
Louvel shook his head, drawing the curtains the inquisitive young man was looking out. “Leave them be. Go see if Fae needs help setting the table.”
Ulrik groaned. “But I don’t want to help Ginger Bear,” he whined. “He keeps threatening to tie me to a chair so he can give me a makeover.”
The amused Frenchman chuckled. “What would it hurt to humor your big brother? Fae only wants to help you pick a color and stick with it… What do you call that mop on your head? Blueberry, teal, turquoise?” he asked with another chuckle, eying the questionable locks of hair standing up every which direction on the young man’s head.
“I call it Smurf in a blender, but the bottle called it Atlantic Blue,” Ulrik said, making a face, as he walked with his uncle to join the others in the dining room. “Can I get a tattoo?”
“No,” Louvel said. “Those adorned with tattoos are questionable at best.”
Connell snorted, following them down the stairs now that he had taken a quick shower. “I resent that, Uncle,” he said, pulling a shirt over his head, concealing the tattoos covering his chest, back, and arms to the elbows. “If the kid wants tattoos, when he’s older you should support him. They hurt like hell and might help put hair on his balls.”
“Hey!” Ulrik whined, spinning around, punching him in the arm before he hurried the rest of the way down the stairs, out of Connell’s reach. “Not cool. I have hair on my balls. Unlike you, I don’t wax so I look like a Ken doll.”
Louvel shook his head; why he bothered he didn’t know.
Connell pulled open the front of his sweat pants and looked down. “Don’t mind him, Boys. Kid is just jealous that his balls haven’t fully descended yet.”
“And now it officially feels like I’m home,” Akia said from the foyer with Beowulf’s arm around her waist. “My brother is talking to his balls as if that’s an everyday thing and no one is remotely surprised or put off by this. Seriously, if he starts licking his balls in front of company, I’m leaving.”
Connell looked up from his crotch to his sister and smirked. “Aw, it’s just like the holidays!” he beamed with a smile.
“Oh yes, because having to bust Father out of jail is what kicks off every holiday get together in this family,” she retorted.
“It should be,” he said before sliding down the banister to the foyer, joining them. “Sis, you look tired. Did you want to freshen up first?”
Akia gave him a look. “So you can eat all the damn soda bread?” she scoffed. “No. I’ll take my chances with stinking everyone out of the house before I let you eat all of my bread, and yes, it is my bread. Fae likes me better than you, so I know he’s been baking up a storm.”
Connell whimpered. “I hate how well you know me. Hurry up!” he barked out with a smirk before hurrying to the dining room.
Akia growled under her breath; she’d be lucky to get two loaves.
“Fae won’t let him eat it all,” Louvel assured her.
She nodded and gave him a half hug since Beowulf wouldn’t relinquish her. “Uncle Lou, you look well. How are you? Adopting again, I hear.”
Louvel smiled. “Yes. When a precious gift crosses your path you mustn’t allow it to slip through your fingers.”
Akia nodded, getting the underlying meaning of his comment. “We’ll catch up later. At the moment I have brothers plotting against me and silently trying to get me to play with them, and I’m starving, tired, have to make a couple of phone calls, and finish up a report for the irritable Inspector. Father, you have to call in soon,” she reminded him.
Beowulf huffed, and it made her chuckle; for being hundreds of years old, he still acted like a child when he didn’t get his way.
“Go before I put you in time out,” she warned, motioning towards the study on the other side of the foyer.
He kissed the side of her head before turning her over to Louvel.
“Some things never change,” she grumbled under her breath, watching her father sulk across the foyer like a scolded puppy.
“You changed,” Louvel said, escorting her to the dining room. “Now I can clearly see your beautiful ocean blue eyes, before they were always downcast towards the floor.”
Akia groaned under her breath; she didn’t take compliments very well. “I grew up, Uncle Lou. I just needed to spread my wings some, I guess… Don’t you dare!” she yelled when just before they entered the dining room movement from behind the two caused her to spin around, but it was too late. She pushed Louvel out of the way just in time to take the full force of the three men trying to ambush her, knocking all of them to the floor.
“Ow,” Akia complained from the bottom of the pile, and they laughed. “When I can reach my gun, I will start shooting indiscriminately,” she warned.
“Sis, don’t be like that!” Faelan complained from directly on top of her, most of his weight and that of his brothers being supported by his thick arms to keep from crushing her. “We missed you!”
She gave him a look. “I talked to you a few days ago, Smart Ass.”
The other two gasped. “You did?” they asked in unison.
Faelan gave her a look. “Gee, thanks. Now I’m never going to hear the end of it from these bitches,” he flamboyantly complained before reaching back and wrapped his thick arm around Rafe’s head then pulled the punching man over him and into a headlock, effectively rolling off of Akia in the process.
“Ow!” Rafe yelled, punching Faelan in the sides, but the hulking ginger was impossible to shake.
“Call me daddy, Little Man,” Faelan taunted, giving him a noogie.
Connell stretched out on the floor alongside his sister as they watched the other two go at it. “It greatly amuses me that the one on bottom doesn’t remotely correlate his bucking and attempt at giving Fae a wedgie as being beyond homoerotic, which is even more amusing since Fae is as queer as they come, and the apparent bottom in that relationship is adamant that it says exit only.”
Akia chuckled. “Yet another reminder that I’m home.”
“Blue hair off the top rope!” Ulrik yelled before pile driving on top of the two on the floor and was easily rolled up into a ball by Faelan. “Okay, I should have thought that through better,” he admitted before yelping. “Ow, dickhead! That hurt.”
“Let me guess, Kid?” she asked.
Connell nodded. “You have to give him credit; he’s fearless. Balls as hairless as a new born baby, but they’re bald balls of steel.”
Ulrik glared from between his legs since Rafe and Faelan had them locked behind his head at the ankles. “They’re not bald. Get these assholes off of me, and I’ll show you… I’m Ulrik,” he greeted with a smile before swinging at his big brothers again.
Akia gave a small wave. “I figured as much. Fae, Rafe, stop dicking around and let him up so we can eat. I’ve been up for hours and am ready to crash.”
“Aw, do we have to?” they complained in unison before letting the young man up.
The family gathered around the large
dining room table and waited for Varg and Beowulf to join them. Akia sat between Connell and Faelan, just as she had done when she lived there, and eyed the platters filling the center of the table; stack of rare steaks, barbecued ribs, glazed pork chops, grilled vegetables, and baskets of fresh rolls and slices of bread with mounds of sweet cream butter and jars of honey ready to be spread on them.
When Akia’s stomach growled, Faelan chuckled and grabbed one of the baskets of rolls and handed it to her. “Eat, your growling is going to scare the kid.”
“Shut up,” she complained before shoving an entire roll in her mouth.
Faelan sighed. “If only I could find a man that can do that with something meatier than soda bread,” he said.
Akia gave him a look. “Really?” she mumbled with her mouth full.
He simply smiled wide.
Beowulf joined them, taking a moment to kiss Akia on the top of the head in passing, before taking his seat at the head of the table. “Where is Varg?” he asked.
“Patrolling the perimeter,” Rafe said. “He’ll eat later, alone.”
Thank god, Akia silently huffed; dealing with Varg was the very last thing she wanted to do that evening.
Beowulf nodded. “Very well, let’s eat.”
Like starving animals, most of those seated around the table stood and hastily started loading their plates, piling them high with food.
Louvel chuckled, leaning back with a glass of wine in hand, watching his nephews and niece silently fight over the food. “It has been much too long since we have had dinner theater,” he commented.
Seff shook his head, not amused in the least, and flipped the newspaper in his hands over and continued reading the world news section.
“Believe it or not, I missed this,” Beowulf said then applauded when Akia stabbed Connell in the hand with a fork when he tried to steal her pork chop. “Connie, you will never learn. What is that, three hundred times you’ve been stabbed by your baby sister?”
