Bloodlines Read online

  He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Especially not with Redford looking at him with those big eyes, those endless depths he’d gotten lost in so many times. It made Jed ache. It made him emotional and weak, because he got so afraid of losing Redford that he couldn’t think about what was best for him.

  “Jed.” Redford sounded unsure and unhappy all at the same time. Jed felt Redford take his hand, reaching out for him. “You haven’t ruined my life. You’ve made it so much better.”

  Staring down at the floor so he wouldn’t have to see Redford, so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact and pull up a fake smirk and pretend, Jed just gave a quiet nod. “Ask Anthony over there if that’s even remotely true.” A sad, quick smile touched his lips. “Hell, ask anyone. Ask them what they think of me shutting you up on full moons. On the fact that the only hunting you’ve ever done is stalking the hot dogs I throw around. How about the fact I taught you to kill, huh? Isn’t that so much better, that I took you, that I took this perfect guy, and I twisted you? I shoved you into a fucking cage, and I let you fester in there because I was too goddamn selfish—” His voice had risen to a shout, a self-loathing bellow, and Jed choked back the rest of the words. Jaw tightening, lips trembling into a sardonic smirk, he turned away. “I’m going for a walk. Don’t wait around for me, Redford.”

  There was no reply from Redford, and Jed was glad his back was turned. He didn’t want to see whatever expression Redford was wearing right then: understanding, anger, sudden realization, he didn’t know. He just knew he didn’t want to see it. Because no matter what, it wouldn’t change where they were.

  He slammed the door of the cafeteria shut behind him. It wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been. Hands in his jacket pockets, head down, Jed walked quickly across the camp. The dew on the grass under his feet soaked his jeans. The air held his breath in a trail of fog.

  She was waiting for him. Maybe she’d known he was coming; maybe it was inevitable that he wind up there. Either way, when Jed knocked on the Gray Lady’s door, she opened it immediately, gesturing for him to come in.

  This time, Jed didn’t bluster or bellow or fight. He simply sat, waiting as the Gray Lady made tea, waiting as she settled in opposite him. Waiting with his mind racing, with a sick drop of dread in his stomach. Why had he said all of that? Why had he told Redford any of that? He’d just ruined fucking everything.

  “The Council has come to a decision.” When the Gray Lady finally spoke, it took Jed several moments to figure out what she was talking about.

  He didn’t care. Christ, that made him a bastard, but he didn’t. This whole fucking camp, they could go, stay, fight, turn into goddamn chickens and roost and he didn’t care. All he could think about was Redford. But Jed scrubbed a hand through his hair, he sat up a little straighter, and he did his damn job. That was what he was, anyway. Just the job. He was an idiot for forgetting that. “Yeah? What’s the verdict?”

  “We will run.” Jed couldn’t read the Gray Lady; she was all smooth voice and grace. But he kind of thought she sounded sad. “As soon as possible. The potential loss of life if we stay is too great.”

  Jed nodded. “I don’t think that’s a bad idea—” There was a yip from the corner, a quick patter of paws, and then an unsteady fluff ball of a wolf pup came charging out from under a pile of cushions. It was all huge paws and a tail waving like an energetic flag. The puppy crashed into Jed’s knee and barked happily at him before making its wobbling way over to the Gray Lady. She picked it up and smiled at it, cradling the pup in her arms.

  “My apologies.” The Gray Lady smiled. “This is my daughter. She usually sleeps much later than this.”

  “Loss of life,” Jed nodded, understanding. Apparently the Gray Lady still had some game, if she was popping out kids. He wondered how old she really was. “Your kid.”

  “They are all my children, in a way.” The Gray Lady rubbed her hand behind the pup’s ears, settling her down. “But yes. We have young here who wouldn’t be able to fight. Running might be the best way to keep them safe.”

  “Probably.” Jed drummed his fingers against the table. “Well, I’ll make some calls. Arrange transport, that kind of thing.”

  “We will be appreciative.” The Gray Lady nodded.

  Fidgeting, Jed nearly said more. He nearly asked all the things he’d wanted to. But the stupid fluff ball was wiggling in her arms, and Jed found he really didn’t want to know. He couldn’t even think of where to start.

  “You have something on your mind,” the Gray Lady commented, her eyes on her daughter. “Speak it. We owe you a debt, and I will give my counsel if you wish it.”

  Crap. Jed heaved out a breath, staring up the ceiling. “Look, I know you don’t approve of the whole human-with-wolf thing.”

  “I do not.” The Gray Lady said it so damn calmly.

  It would have been nice for her to be a little less blunt, but whatever. “Okay, fine. But Redford… he’s going through something. He’s got these… voices, I guess? Or instincts. Something going on in his head. And I thought I was helping, I thought I could help. But he’s getting worse. He goes into this kind of blood haze, I guess, sometimes. And I lose him.” Jed’s voice cracked. His eyes dropped to stare at his hands, refusing to look up at the Gray Lady. “I mean, he’s just… gone.” His bandage itched under his shirt, the pull of the wound still painful. “And it’s getting worse. One of these days, I’m pretty sure he’s going to go wherever it is he goes, and I’m not going to get him back.”

  If he’d expected shock from her, he clearly wasn’t going to get it. She just studied him, one of her hands absently smoothing over her now-sleeping daughter. “And have you bonded? Is this more than just a series of dates for you?”

  Christ. Jed had denied it in front of Anthony. He’d shout from the rooftops how he wasn’t anyone’s fucking mate, that this wasn’t what they were trying to turn it into. But the Gray Lady was just staring at him, infinitely calm, infinitely patient, infinitely a gigantic bitch waiting to rip his head off for lying. And Jed found himself nodding slowly, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. “I don’t know about bonding or whatever the shit,” he muttered hoarsely. “But I love him. Yeah. I… fuck, I love him. So whatever that means in your furry mumbo jumbo.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” The Gray Lady wasn’t even looking at him now, apparently too busy fussing over her daughter. “Had you replied that you merely liked him, I would have cautioned you against getting too involved. In all my years, I have seen very few instances of wolves truly managing to live happy lives with humans. You are simply too short-lived.”

  “But what about his….” Jed circled his finger beside his ear, eyebrows rising. “I mean, that’s not normal, right? Other wolves or whatever, they don’t have problems with their instincts like Red does.”

  “No,” the Gray Lady answered. For once, there was a hint of something other than complete calm in her tone. “That is Filtiarn’s fault. The others that he turned received the full procedure; they were transitioned completely. Redford was not that lucky, and I have never before seen someone stuck halfway between a werewolf and a true wolf. It is a state of being that is simply not meant to happen.”

  Expression falling, Jed rubbed his hand across his face. His fingers were shaking, he noticed absently. That was fucking embarrassing. He wished they’d stop. “So there’s nothing that can help him?”

  “The voices you speak of, and the way he loses himself, those are products of confused instincts,” she replied, a faint sigh underneath her words. “Werewolves were Filtiarn’s first attempt to create more wolves like him. They are an abomination. What Redford is going through is a clash between those instincts and the ones of the true wolf. His mind cannot pick one, so there is chaos.”

  “Okay, I think you have me confused with the professor.” Jed couldn’t help the desperate growl in his voice, the needy way he was searching her face for the answers she seemed so intent on keeping fr
om him. “I don’t care why. The whole stupid history, I don’t give a fuck. I’m just looking for a solution. Is there a way he can get better?”

  “Yes.” It sounded simple, said in her patient tone. “He would need to be with his own kind. He would need to be free to roam where he wants when he feels the need to turn. That is what would help him.”

  Jed wasn’t unaccustomed to pain. He’d gotten things broken or burned or bruised more times than he could ever count. He’d been tortured, he’d been torn apart and put back together and stepped on Legos in the middle of the fucking night. Jed knew pain. And he’d insulated himself against it, in some respects. It was part of the job, it was expected, so he got used to the sensation of hurting.

  That hurt more. More than anything he’d ever experienced, more than anything Jed knew how to handle. The blunt assessment that he was part of the problem, that the answer to Redford’s issues lay in everything he wasn’t, it felt like more than a punch to the gut. Jed was fairly certain that he had a gaping hole where his chest used to be.

  “He should stay here,” Jed managed in a whisper, gaze locked firmly on the table in front of him, staring sightlessly down at the wood grain. “That’s what you’re saying. He needs to be with other wolves. Not me.”

  He wanted her to say no. He wanted her to change her mind and say that, no, she thought it was completely okay that a wolf and a human be together. There had to be some kind of silver lining on this shit cloud, and Jed kept desperately hoping it would appear. Something he could do, some clear course he could map out and arrange so that everything would be fine. So that he could take Redford goddamn fishing.

  “Exactly,” she replied. “You are a good man, Jed, even I can see that. You make a fine partner. But you are a man. Not a wolf.”

  “I love him,” Jed whispered, hating how much of a plea was in his voice.

  At least she didn’t look unsympathetic. “Then that will be hard for you. But wolves know what is better for wolves, and living with this pack would be the best thing for Redford.”

  “I could stay here.” God, he couldn’t think, he could barely breathe around the ache in his throat. “With him. I’d go native or whatever the fuck I had to.”

  The Gray Lady gave a short sigh. Her eyes were once again on her daughter. When she spoke, her tone was kind, but firm. “And what happens when you start to grow old and he does not? True wolves do not live as long as I, but much longer than humans. What happens when you can’t run with him, when he really wants to run? What happens when your knees start creaking with the cold, and while you attempt to hide it, Redford runs circles around you, never quite understanding why you can’t keep up. And what of yourself? Do you really think you could live here, among a people that are not your own? Would you be happy, hiding away? Would you be able to provide for him, give him a family, give him a true mate?”

  Shoulders hunching in on himself, every word as calmly given, as skillfully aimed as a bullet, Jed didn’t move for a long time. He couldn’t. He’d come here for answers, for a solution, and he had one. It was simple.

  He’d have to leave.

  “Thank you,” Jed managed to whisper, wanting to shoot her right in the fucking face for being right. For not having another way. But he stood, back straight, jaw tight, and chin lifted. He nodded at her. “Take care of him for me.”

  Turning on his heel, steps measured and precise, Jed marched back to the cabin. Knievel was still asleep on the bed, and he carefully loaded her into her carrier despite her meows of protest. He didn’t have much there, thankfully; shoving all his clothes into a bag didn’t take long. He left his maps and his weapons, his burner phone with his lists of contacts. They’d need all that in order to finish the plans for the move.

  Jed was going home.

  Redford almost looked happy when he stepped inside. He’d gone wolf, with a big stupid wolf grin as he turned to shut the door behind him, shaking his fur out. When he saw Jed, Redford shifted back with more ease than Jed had ever seen. Normally his change took at least a full minute. It was painful, and frankly goddamn horrible to watch.

  But the shifts seemed easier now. And Jed couldn’t help hearing echoes of the Gray Lady’s words—Redford was more at ease with the wolf side of himself just from being in the pack. He’d made more progress here than Jed had ever managed to help him with.

  “You wouldn’t believe how energetic wolf kids are,” Redford said, a laugh underneath his words as he tugged his jeans on. “There was a lady taking a big group of them for a run, but they all collided into me, and I wound up having to play with them for—” He paused. “Are you packing?”

  His voice sounded so distant. Jed zipped up the duffel bag, hooking it over his shoulder. “I, uh, I left what you guys will need. You know who to call for transport and shit when the pack wants to do their moving, so just give them my name and they’ll treat you okay.” Jed kept his eyes on the floor, away from Redford, expression remote. “I’m taking the van. Tell princess that he’ll have to find his own ride back.”

  “What?” All of the happiness just dropped right off of Redford’s face. “Jed, why are you leaving? Why are you leaving alone? I thought we were going to train the pack.”

  Shit. This would have been so much easier to do, fuck, in a note or hieroglyphs or smoke signals or some shit. Not face to face. Not with Redford looking beautiful and worried and with that crease in his forehead that made Jed want to kiss away every line. “I gotta go, Fido,” he managed, voice breaking. “This place, this is where you belong. And I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t, but come on. Who are we foolin’?” Jed forced his lips into an aching smile. “I can’t be what you need. You should stay here. And I…. I have to go.”

  He brushed past Redford, heading out the door, keys to the van clutched so tightly in his hand he could feel them cutting into his palm. Knievel was crying in her cage, nails scratching at the sides of the carrier as if to try to get out. Jed knew the feeling.

  Redford followed him. “You’re leaving me,” he concluded. “Jed, why—where did this come from? I love you, and I know you love me. The only reason I like it here is because you’re here with me.” With two quick steps, Redford bounded his way in front of Jed, stopping him in his tracks. “Why do you have to go?”

  Shoulders straight, eyes fixed somewhere over Redford’s left shoulder, Jed couldn’t help the broken little laugh that escaped. “How was that shift for you?” he asked quietly. “Didn’t seem like it hurt as much.”

  “It was… okay?” Redford looked like he didn’t know if he was giving the right answer. “I mean, I think I’m getting better.”

  “I think you are too.” Damn it, his voice cracked again. Jed just clenched his teeth, refusing to give in to the yawning agony starting to eat through his veins. “I think that this place is making you better. I’m not. That’s why I have to go, okay? I’ve got to give you your best chance. This is it. Not me.”

  “That’s not—” Redford broke off, frustrated. “Jed, can we just sit down and talk about this? Please? I can’t think straight when you’re packed and wanting to leave.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” He had to keep walking, he had to get the fuck out of here, because if he looked at Redford, if he had to really look at what he was going to be leaving, Jed didn’t know if he’d be able to stand it. “You need someone who can be there for you—”

  “You’re there for me!” Redford insisted. “You’ve always been there for me.”

  “I corrupted you.” Christ, he was not going to fucking cry. “I turned you into something you shouldn’t have been. You’re good, Redford, you are really, really fucking good. And I’m… not.” Jed started walking again, hitching his bag up farther on his shoulder. “You need someone who’s not going to put you in cages. Or who will keep up with you, or not get old, or, fuck, just… not me, okay? It’s never going to be me.”

  “Jed.” Oh, fuck, Redford had gotten that pleading tone in his voice. Jed hated that tone, becau
se he could usually never resist it. “Please don’t leave.” Redford was following him still, light footsteps accompanying his words. “Whatever horrible things you think you did, it’s not true. You’re just being hard on yourself. You don’t have to leave.”

  Redford caught up again. Jed saw him move out of the corner of his eye as Redford reached for his arm. Redford’s fingers closed on the bandages, where the bite wound was, and Jed hissed in pain, instinctively jerking back. They both stood there, guilt flushing Redford’s face, resignation souring in Jed’s gut. “You bit me because you couldn’t even think straight,” Jed intoned quietly. “You ripped out that guy’s throat. You were covered in his blood, and you would have killed me too. You would have killed anyone who got in your way. That’s not on you, Redford. That’s not your fault. It’s mine. Instead of figuring out how to help you deal with shit, I just…. I treated you like you were me. Like you were a hardened son of a bitch instead of who you are. And I made it worse.”

  “So you’re leaving me because of that?” Anybody else would have sounded angry or incredulous. Redford just looked miserable. “I never expected you to solve my problems, Jed, but—but I’m sorry I got them all over you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to solve them myself.”

  Jesus fuck. Jed dropped his bag, he set Knievel’s carrier on the ground, and he turned to grasp Redford’s shoulders. “Shut up,” he spat miserably. “Jesus, shut up and listen to me. You are strong. You are… fuck, you’re perfect, you are brave and sweet and everything that I….” Jesus fuck, he really was crying. Goddamn it. “I am leaving because I love you.”

  Jed’s voice was thick and tight, like a string pulled back almost to the breaking point. “Because everywhere I look, the facts are piling up that I’m nothing more than a pile of shit for you. You’re going to have a good life here. You’re going to figure out how to be who you are. I can’t be here for that. Wish I could. God.” Jed brushed his fingers across Redford’s cheek. “God, you have no idea how much. But you and me, that’s not good for you. So it’s time I stopped being selfish and I walked away.”