Sanguis Noctis: Bloodlines Part 10

"Or you'll focus on the reason we're here," Randall said under his breath. "Honestly, you people are acting like it's the end of that movie with the boat and the iceberg."

"Nerd," Anthony said fondly. He gave Randall a light shove. "Come on. Mallory's taking us to our cabin."

"t.i.tanic. Even I know that." Edwin had shifted back, not bothering to find pants as he curiously walked around, eyes wide while he watched all the other wolves. Redford determinedly kept his eyes above waistline-that was just awkward. "Come on. Let's see if we can figure out where they keep the food. I'm starving!"

Redford's gaze went over Edwin's shoulder to a pack of wolves walking past. His eyes widened. Apparently Edwin's clothing choices-or lack of them-weren't actually all that unusual here.

"Is this part nudist colony?" Victor grumbled. He sounded torn between being scandalized and giving a few of them an interested eye.

A growl rumbled in the back of Randall's throat. He bit the noise down with a quick cough. Victor looked even more startled at the sound than Randall did. "Right. Edwin, pants. Now. We'll put our bags away, and Anthony can rest while we get food. Redford? Do you want to come with us to the cabin?"

Edwin protested, shifting back to wolf form as if to keep away from the dreaded clothing, streaking off after Mallory, who was waiting a short ways away. Edwin yipped loudly back to them, tail wagging eagerly. Knievel gave him chase, speeding off like a demon and then stopping, grooming herself and pretending she wasn't the least bit interested. She, at least, seemed fully comfortable here. Jed was keeping half an eye on her, but the cat seemed perfectly content to explore and stay within sight.

"I'll stay with Jed until dinner," Redford replied. "I'll find you later?"

Randall nodded, hand easily cupping Anthony's elbow like he wasn't doing anything odd. Like he didn't need to help hold his brother upright. "Sounds good. Try and stay out of trouble."

Redford watched them leave. Anthony was walking slower than usual, his shoulders hunched, though Redford wouldn't have noticed anything wrong if he didn't know that Anthony was sick. A glance at his watch informed him they had about an hour until dinner.

"I don't know how I'm going to sleep," Redford admitted. "It's usually... you're usually there."

Rumbling out a sigh, Jed reached up to rub his fingers across Redford's cheek. "I know. But hey, you'll be with all the wolves, right? That's going to be good."

Redford just shrugged. "Still nothing compared to you." As soon as he heard his own words, he sighed mentally at himself. Moping wouldn't help anything. "Maybe I'll stage a jailbreak," he continued, perking up at the thought of it.

Jed drew him in for a kiss. "You stay put," he ordered, nipping lightly at Redford's lip. "Last thing I want is a bunch of flea-bitten mutts getting p.i.s.sy. Besides, I won't be that far away."

"Venturing outside for a wolf may not be the smartest idea, either," Victor said cautiously. "Twice now we've heard mention of hunters."

"You think that's legit?" Jed, arm still looped around Redford's waist, keeping him close, squinted out into the woods, like he could magically see everything that lay beyond. "Might have to do a little hunting of my own, we stay here much longer. Just to see what everyone's so worried about."

"Just not tonight," Redford insisted. "I don't like the thought of you tracking hunters on your own."

Huffing out a little laugh, Jed drew Redford in, both arms slipping around him, fingers pushing up under Redford's shirt to play along warm skin. "No hunting tonight," he murmured, lips trailing along Redford's jaw. "We're a team. I'll just be sleeping right on the other side of this d.a.m.n camp, dreaming about you. Deal?"

"Deal," Redford replied, smiling against Jed's cheek.

"Ew." An unfamiliar voice broke Redford out of his Jed-induced distraction. Startled, he glanced over Jed's shoulder to see a woman watching them, her nose wrinkled.

"Um, sorry," Redford offered, fl.u.s.tered. "Are public displays of affection not okay here? I'm really sorry, I'll-"

"It's not that." She c.o.c.ked her head, staring at Jed. "It's just... him." She nodded toward Jed, looking baffled. "How can you even stand to get so close, with that scent?"

Redford growled in response before he could restrain himself. The dark instinct that had made itself at home ever since Fil was curling hot in his gut. Redford dug his nails into his palms to try to force it away. "Jed smells fine," he said, his voice more a snarl than anything else.

There was the light touch of Jed's fingers on his back, Jed's voice interjecting calmly, "I shower and everything. Pardon us, sweetheart. We're just going to keep moving, if you don't mind." Then Jed was leading him away, Victor following worriedly behind. "It's okay, babe," Jed was saying. "Doesn't even matter. We're fine."

Redford made himself close his eyes, take a deep breath, and then another one. The woman was shaking her head in disbelief as she walked away-Redford could hear her murmur something about humans under her breath, the tone of it distinctly displeased.

He rubbed his hands over his face, hard, hoping there wasn't any yellow in his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just don't like it when people insult you. Or us." It had been a problem a few times before. Once, a client had been confused about why Jed would hang around with a hobo. Another time, a complete stranger in a bar had told them they looked completely unsuited for each other. Redford had not quite figured out how to just ignore the comments.

Jed's hands ran through Redford's hair, pulling him in close so that Jed could circle him in a tight embrace. "I just figured," he drawled, voice sounding a little amused, "that as much as I like to stir up fights, maybe you shouldn't. These are kind of your people, right?"

Redford looked over toward the center of the camp. As dinner was getting closer, more and more wolves were gathering around the bonfire. They looked content in one another's company, easily sharing s.p.a.ce and cooking duties alike. There were no scuffles for dominance, and n.o.body looked miserable. He still didn't quite believe Anthony when he said that ranks like alpha weren't actually a thing. But looking at them now, maybe Anthony was right. Maybe these wolves-these Cano that could shift painlessly whenever they liked-had no rankings. That still didn't ensure that Redford would fit in any easier, though. He wasn't a werewolf, and he wasn't a Cano either.

"Not really," Redford finally murmured in reply to Jed. "Should we get ready for dinner? I don't want to be late."

For a moment, it looked like Jed was going to say something else. Long fingers touched the edge of Redford's eye, like Jed could capture the wild yellow that curled up in them sometimes. But then Jed smiled that c.o.c.ky grin and pulled away. "Sounds like a plan. Vickie has to primp, and you know that takes ages."

The only response that came from Victor was an exasperated sigh. He looked even more awkward than Redford felt. Redford might be caught between the two types of wolves, but Victor was the only half blood in the camp. Jed, however, being the only human, looked nearly perfectly at ease, if a bit wary.

Victor didn't wind up primping, but Redford did. He wanted to look his best if he was going to be judged from all angles. He changed his sweater three times before Jed took the luggage away and insisted he looked perfect. Redford wasn't sure of that, but he supposed Jed knew what he was talking about.

Then again, Jed might say the same thing if Redford wore a potato sack, so perhaps Jed's opinion was not to be trusted.

A loud bell was rung to indicate that dinner had started, and Redford nervously made his way back into the center of camp with Jed at his side, Victor trailing behind them. They'd left Knievel curled up in Redford's cabin with a can of tuna. She seemed perfectly at home. Redford just wished he could be so content. Many more wolves had gathered outside-Redford was willing to bet it was nearly the entire population of the camp. He was. .h.i.t with a chaotic mix of too many scents, all of them underscored by one thing: wolf.

Some stared at them as they got closer to the bonfire. Some, visibly uncomfortable, shifted away. But some seemed not to mind, and those were the wolves that handed Redford, Jed, and Victor plates heaped with meat and bread, pushed gla.s.ses of water and home-brewed beer into their hands. Though Jed's gaze was near constantly darting back and forth, his expression brightened as he tasted the beer.

They found a more spa.r.s.ely populated area a short distance away from the bonfire, sitting on long logs that served as communal seats. While Redford might be feeling a little anxious from being around this many wolves, he had to admit their food was amazing. He'd never been able to cook meat this good.

Halfway through dinner, Victor had found himself a wolf that obviously didn't mind the smell of half blood so much and was excitedly asking him questions about wolf culture, having to shout to be heard over the din of conversation. Redford was more than happy to keep to himself and Jed, leaning against Jed's shoulder as the sunlight grew dimmer and the bonfire was stoked higher.

He found himself envying the wolves. They were so comfortable with one another, perhaps something that was brought about by communal living. They were like the Lewises on a much larger scale: completely at peace with what they were.

Redford didn't want dinner to end, because as the food grew scarcer, his time with Jed for the night grew shorter. He rubbed his cheek against Jed's shoulder, feeling Jed's arm tighten around his shoulders in response. But time, like it always did, had a bad habit of continuing to tick onward. The wolves started leaving, and the noise around them grew quieter until there were just a few small groups of people remaining.

Redford caught sight of Mallory across the bonfire. The man was talking with a few friends, but when he saw Redford watching, he nodded in the direction of the gate.

It was time for Jed and Victor to go.

Jed, surprisingly, didn't argue. He stood, fishing the keys to the van out of his pocket. With a whistle, he tossed them to Victor. "Take it into town if you want, princess," Jed said. "I'm going to sleep by the gate."

"Really?" Victor blinked at Jed, perplexed. "Though I'll only admit this under extreme duress, I wouldn't mind having to share a hotel room with you again. I saw one on the way here that wasn't too terribly far away. I'm sure they'll still have some available rooms."

Jed smirked, clapping his hand on Victor's shoulder. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. But I'm not leaving Red. If the closest I can be is the d.a.m.n gate, then the gate's it."

Victor didn't look inclined to argue the point too much. "All right." He pocketed the keys. "Before I leave, get what you need for the night out of the van."

"Come on." Jed's hand had dropped to clasp Redford's, like he couldn't bear to let go. Redford knew the feeling. "I'll walk you to it, grab my bag."

They walked back to the van, and Redford waited patiently while Victor tutted at Jed and kept reminding him of things Jed might need for the night, such as reading material if he got bored and a pocketknife should he ever need a small screwdriver to unscrew something. Redford hid his smile as Jed grew increasingly more and more exasperated at the suggestions, and finally, he and Jed watched Victor drive the van out of the camp.

Redford winced as Victor nearly hit a tree. He obviously didn't drive much.

"Okay, where to?" he asked Jed.

"By the gate. So you know right where I am if you need me." Jed cupped the back of Redford's neck, lightly pulling him in for a kiss. "And so you know I'll hear you if something happens."

"Okay," Redford agreed. Needless to say, he wasn't particularly happy about it. He deliberately walked as slowly as he could as they made their way toward the gate, staying close. When they got there, Jed carefully closed it behind him, fussing over it like it was very important he get everything just so.

"I'll be right here," he finally said gruffly, unrolling his sleeping bag. "And if you need me...." He paused, looking up at Redford, giving him a very small smile. "Well. Just whistle."

Redford absently clasped his fingers over his necklace. Given to him by Jed in the midst of the chaos with Filtiarn, the necklace had never been taken off unless absolutely necessary. He b.u.mped his fingers over the cold metal of the whistle and the smooth edges of Jed's army dog tags. "I will," he promised. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Jed hooked his fingers into Redford's belt, tugging him closer to the gate slung across the dirt road. "I've slept in worse places, Fido," he rumbled, resting their foreheads together. The gate was cold metal, digging into their stomachs, but Jed didn't seem to notice. "Go. Sleep. You need your rest. And keep an eye on our spoiled cat. You know how she fusses if she doesn't have someone adoring her."

Redford couldn't leave without kissing Jed good-bye first. He'd see Jed in the morning, he knew he would, but he still clung to him like he wouldn't see him for days. Maybe he was being a bit overdramatic; he just hadn't slept without Jed in the same bed for a long time now.

He had to make himself pull away. That didn't last long as Redford ducked closer for another kiss, but after that he squeezed Jed's hand, forcing himself to separate from Jed for real this time. "Good night," he said. "I'll see you in the morning."

Jed didn't seem to want to let him go, either. But he forced his hand away, cupping Redford's face briefly. "Night, babe." And then, so much softer, "I love you."

"I love you too."

He wanted to stay. Or to haul Jed back over the line that separated them, the small bit of iron and dust that was keeping them apart. But just as Redford was reaching out again, to insist that he could leave, that he could so easily just slip free of the camp, there was a rustle in the woods beyond them. Two yellow eyes blinked out of the shadows of the trees; a wolf was watching them. Watching the human, Redford realized. One of the pack's sentries was making sure that Jed didn't go anywhere.

The walk back to the cabin that had been a.s.signed to him was miserable. Redford kept looking back at Jed every few steps, just to make sure he was still okay and hadn't suddenly vanished in the few seconds he hadn't been looking. And then he turned the corner and Jed was out of sight completely, the bend in the trail hiding the gate from the rest of the camp. Redford trudged to his cabin, head down, already wishing it were morning.

He could hear the Lewises in the next cabin over. His own, Redford had discovered, was perfectly bland. As he went inside, the only colors he could see were brown and white, though it seemed comfortable despite the spa.r.s.eness. The most comforting part of it was Knievel, already asleep on the bed, just like she would have been at home. After pacing around the small room, Redford realized he had nothing else to do besides get ready for bed.

Half an hour after his head hit the pillow, Knievel graciously sharing the mattress with him, Redford was forced to come to the realization that he was not going to be able to sleep. Frustrated, he turned, and grew even more frustrated when he nearly rolled off the single bed, having gotten used to Jed's ridiculously large one.

This wasn't working.

He knew, logically, that this was only for the night. Tomorrow they would be able to speak to the Gray Lady again, and once she saw that Jed and Victor were trustworthy, she might let them stay. Redford knew he wasn't going to fall apart over one night without Jed. But his instincts were clamoring in the background of his mind, pushing a dull ache into his chest with how much he missed Jed.

Redford growled to himself in exasperation, flopping over to stare at the ceiling. The wolf in him wanted his companion. His thoughts were pacing back and forth uneasily with a steady mantra of Jed, Jed, Jed.

He gave up and got out of bed.

The air was cold when Redford stepped outside. The bonfire was smaller now but still glowing in the distance, splashing orange light over the camp in contrast to the moon's white glow. Footsteps crunching on dirt and gravel, Redford rounded the bend of the faint trail, heading toward the gate. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark when he spotted Jed, a fair distance away.

Jed couldn't sleep either, it seemed. Redford could hear the steady pace of his footsteps, could smell his wariness even from here. The scent of the wolf sentinel was just as strong, though Redford couldn't see him any longer. As he drew nearer, Redford expected to be stopped. There was nothing more than a warning snort, though, the almost silent noise that let Redford know they were being watched.

In the chill of the night, wearing only the old sweatpants he slept in, Redford silently padded closer. "Jed," he whispered when he reached the gate. "Why are you still up?"

He heard the huff of noise that was Jed's nearly silent laugh. "I could ask you the same thing," Jed murmured. "What are you doing out here?" Redford could hear a rustle of fabric, and then Jed was leaning over the gate, wrapping his own sweatshirt around Redford's shoulders. "You're cold. You should be inside. Is something wrong?"

"No. I just can't sleep," Redford sighed. Even as he stood, his eyelids felt heavy, and the ground looked awfully comfortable. He just wanted to sleep.

He hugged Jed's sweatshirt closer around his shoulders. In the distance, there was a very faint howl, joined by two others. These wolves, of course, didn't have to wait until the full moons to go running whenever they liked.

Neither did Redford, he supposed. But he didn't want to think that way right then, not when those howls were an invite to come join them. Come run with us, they said. Be free.

"I think I'm going to sleep here," Redford said decisively. He could definitely sleep on the ground. At least he'd be close to Jed.

"No way" was Jed's instant response. "It's freezing and the ground is hard. You have a cabin, Fido, and a bed. That's where you should be."

"Oh, stop protesting," Redford grumbled. He sat down, bundled Jed's sweatshirt up for a pillow, and then lay down fully, stretching out on the hard ground. "This is fine. You're not the only who has slept in worse places."

There was a long pause, and Redford could almost smell all the arguments Jed was biting back. Finally, with a drawn-out sigh, Jed reached down to grab his sleeping bag. "Stubborn wolf," he muttered, but his tone was fond. He leaned over the gate to spread his sleeping bag out, followed by his pillow and the extra blankets Victor had insisted he bring. "Here. You are not trained in sleeping in s.h.i.tty conditions. You are going to be warm and slightly comfortable."

Redford gave Jed a look and opened the sleeping bag. He laid it out like a mattress, half on his side, half on Jed's side, the gate between them. He did the same to the blankets, then crawled under them, putting his head on the balled-up sweatshirt. Now he almost felt like he could sleep. It was uncomfortable, to be honest, but he'd spent many a night on his grandmother's cold bas.e.m.e.nt floor. Having a thin mattress and a blanket was luxury compared to that.

Jed reached out, took Redford's hand, and held it in the s.p.a.ce between them, the line that delineated the wolf's pack and the rest of the world. "You are something else, Fido," he said, bending his head to kiss Redford's knuckles. He lay down on the other side of the sleeping bag.

"Get some sleep," Redford urged. He echoed Jed's previous fond teasing. "Stubborn human."

"d.a.m.n straight. I am all human, baby." Jed grinned, a leer in his tone. "You like it like that."

Redford laughed quietly. Only Jed could possibly turn that into innuendo. "I do," he confirmed, squeezing Jed's hand. "And I think you smell great." No matter what the wolves here might say or indicate.

"Well, you're the only one who gets to sniff me," Jed murmured, approaching sleep starting to slur his words slightly. "So that's a good thing. All those other furry a.s.ses, they can smell someone else. No smelling for them."

Redford let his eyes fall closed as he smiled. "Good. I wouldn't be happy if they tried." He fell silent as he absently rubbed his thumb over Jed's knuckles, relishing the one point of contact they had. "Night, Jed."

Chapter 6.

Randall LONG BEFORE birdsong crept through the morning, long before the mist was scorched away by the rising sun, Randall was out of bed, standing at the window and watching the camp beyond. Some wolves were early risers, creeping out on two legs or four to greet the barely-there morning.

Randall's nose twitched as the faint scents of bacon and coffee drifted from the communal kitchens. He should get some, for Anthony. The morning cold lately seemed to make Anthony stiffer, make walking just a little bit harder. Randall tried to think ahead most days, to simply provide alternatives to the actions that caused Anthony the most issues. So he should go and get breakfast now, before Anthony was awake, or else he'd be pretending everything was fine, that everything was normal, and shuffling a painful path across the camp to get it himself.

Sighing softly, shoving his hair out of his face, Randall glanced down at his watch. Given how deeply Anthony was sleeping and how long the past few days had been, he probably had another two hours before his brother would wake up. Enough time, maybe, to do what he needed to. And then he would bring breakfast.

Edwin was pa.s.sed out in one of the beds, limbs sprawled everywhere, blankets tangled by his feet. Randall paused to cover him, to smooth the blankets around Edwin and gently rub his hand through the messy waterfall of blond hair. Edwin snorted in his sleep, rolling over, ever the exhausted pup, even now. Randall turned to Anthony, who slept in wolf form. Always protecting them, Anthony, always doing what was necessary to keep them safe. So he slept that way to have every advantage possible, should the worst happen. The chill in the air would make it even more difficult for this form to get out of bed. Brow creased in concern, Randall gathered the blankets from his own abandoned mattress and tucked them around Anthony, careful not to wake him as he fussed over the covers.

He grabbed a sweater and slipped into his shoes, then silently crept from the cabin. He left footprints in the mist-dampened gra.s.s, a ghost trail over bent green, making his way toward the Gray Lady's home. Two wolves were standing at attention outside her door, but they did no more than flick an ear toward him as Randall pa.s.sed. The door seemed larger today, more imposing without his brothers at his side, without Anthony to lead them.

But that was why he was here. So, after a moment, Randall straightened his tie, smoothed a hand down his worn gray sweater, and lightly knocked on her door.

There was no answer for a long while. Randall shifted his feet, awkward and cold, but he didn't leave. Both of the guardian wolves ignored him. The faint sounds and scents of the camp seemed far behind him. It was just him, alone on a porch, waiting. Finally, there was the soft noise of movement from within, and the door released, swinging open slowly to admit him.

Randall hesitated. He wanted to move swiftly, with purpose. The way Anthony would. He wanted to march in and demand respect, to earn their way into the pack. But he hesitated. Hand on the doorway, he paused, listening to the measured footsteps from within, the hiss of boiling water, the clink of a spoon on china. And he nearly left. Because who was he to approach the oldest of them all? He was books and research, he was knowledge of things long past. There was no power in him.

Not like Anthony.

Not like her.

But his brother was sick. Anthony was dying, was fading, bit by bit. So Randall screwed up his courage and stepped inside.