Sanguis Noctis: Bloodlines Part 30

"I think that sounds like a very good idea." Victor's voice had dropped into a husk again. Randall lightly pursed his lips over the head of Victor's c.o.c.k, eyes locked on his face, watching as Victor bit his lip at the sensation, hips arching up into it. "Christ, Randall."

Yes, he definitely enjoyed that reaction. He wanted more of that. Slowly, Randall lowered his mouth onto Victor's d.i.c.k. He couldn't manage much, but he definitely liked the feel of Victor starting to harden against his tongue, the way Victor's leg shook when he sucked a little harder.

The gunshot outside was not really part of his fantasy coming true.

Randall jerked upright, eyes widening, ears p.r.i.c.ked. Silence pounded around them, throbbing with every wild beat of Randall's heart, and after a moment, he'd nearly convinced himself he was hearing things. Victor was motionless underneath him, breath caught in his lungs in fear. Randall looked over at him, hand finding Victor's, shaking his head. Surely it was nothing. He almost believed it too. Until there was an even louder burst of gunfire and a high-pitched wail of a howl.

He knew that voice. "Edwin," Randall gasped, surging off the bed and scrambling for the door. As soon as he'd jerked it open, he was shifting, changing. He leaped from the porch on two legs and landed on four, skidding on the loose dirt and powering his way toward the bonfire, ears laid back and body a low streak against the ground.

There were hunters.

Anthony was at his side in a second, fangs glinting in the bonfire light. They shared a wordless look, then ran toward where Edwin's howl was still echoing. G.o.d knew where the hunters had come from. Edwin came tearing back into the camp, the redheaded brownie in front of him. Edwin was herding him with b.u.mps of his head, shoving the brownie into a nearby cabin with a growl.

Relief hit Randall. He and Anthony charged toward their brother, meeting Edwin halfway. More gunfire, another howl, and the wolves were panicking. Randall looked at Anthony, crowding around Edwin as if to protect him, but what could they do? He couldn't even tell where the hunters were. The half bloods that had traipsed through the camp earlier had confused the scents, and now it was taking him longer to pick out where the humans might be.

The wolves around him were having the same problem, noses lifted to air, and huffs of confusion filled the camp.

Until Jed came storming out of his cabin, gun in each hand, Redford as a wolf by his side. "Anthony, you gorgeous b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Jed hollered. "Get your pert a.s.s over here." He clicked the safety off, striding toward the woods. "Get behind me. I'm going to lay down cover fire; you're going to take three wolves to the right. Redford? You get three more and go to the left. Circle around. We're pinning these f.u.c.kers to the G.o.dd.a.m.n ground."

Redford b.u.mped his side against Jed's legs in acknowledgement, his head turning to seek out wolves. Silently, three stepped forward to stand by his side. Mallory joined Anthony, Randall and Edwin standing shoulder to shoulder with their brother. Redford tipped his head back, letting loose a long, hoa.r.s.e howl before he and his three followers darted into the woods. Anthony followed suit. They kept their bodies low to the ground and their paws away from twigs and loose rocks as they silently slipped into the forest. Jed was smart, not drawing the hunters out. It was dark in the woods, the firelight and the moon doing nothing to pierce the dense leaves overhead. Wolves could see just fine. The humans, however, would be limited.

There was a rapid burst of gunfire from the camp, aimed high over the wolves' heads. Then return fire, indicating exactly where the hunters were clumped together. As Jed kept them busy, Randall followed Anthony, the four wolves moving rapidly toward the humans, silent and deadly.

There were six of them, hunters in camouflage gear, guns spread out and ensconced behind a barrier of fallen trees. They had a clear view toward the camp, and Randall watched as one of them took aim and fired at Jed, nearly hitting him. Jed kept moving, strafing back and forth, firing nearly unceasingly, keeping himself as a difficult target to pin down. Across the other side of the hunters, Randall could see the other group of wolves approach.

None of the hunters noticed the wolves until one of them-Redford, Randall thought it might be-leaped forward, jaw snapping down on his arm. There was a flurry of movement, cursing, gunfire. One of the wolves jumped at the hunters, only to be cut down in midleap. Randall knocked a hunter over, ripping at his arm, tearing the skin open and leaving him lying there, unable to grip his weapon.

It was chaos, howls and whimpers of pain, shouts and bullets and blood. Randall tried to keep his eye on Edwin, but he lost him when a hunter rushed at him, kicking him aside and aiming a gun at his head. For a moment, it was all over, Randall struggling to get his legs under him again, the bullet one squeezed trigger away from hitting him.

The hunter didn't see Anthony leaping at him until it was too late. The gun went off, the bullet hitting a tree a few feet away from Randall, and the hunter screeched in pain as sharp fangs bit into him. Randall managed to get himself up, joining Anthony, thumping the hunter's head back and knocking him out.

Jed had arrived, and he was calmly, efficiently finishing off the last of the hunters. All except one. He hauled the last one up by the throat, baring his teeth and aiming a gun directly between the hunter's eyes. "Go home," Jed told him roughly. "p.i.s.s your pants, thank your f.u.c.king lucky stars, and go home. And when you're there, you call your boss and you tell him to back the f.u.c.k off. I mean you're done. All of you. If I see one more f.u.c.king hunter here, I will personally track everyone down and I will slaughter you. Name's Jed Walker. You don't believe me? Look me up."

He shoved the hunter back to the ground, watching impa.s.sively as the man scurried away into the woods, one of the wolves chasing after him for good measure.

Randall nudged his nose against Anthony, checking that he was all right. He was moving slowly, but there was no blood on him-a long night and dancing probably meant that his joints weren't as fluid as they should be. Anthony leaned his side against Randall, and they trotted over to Edwin.

Who was standing over a corpse. The man's throat had been ripped out. Edwin's muzzle was covered in blood. Edwin wasn't moving, didn't acknowledge them. He was staring down, horror evident in his eyes, the way his tail was tucked between his legs.

Edwin had once cried over a bird he'd accidentally knocked from a nest. They'd killed to eat before; they'd killed what they needed. Edwin was too kind to harm anything for any other reason. And now there was a human lying on the ground, b.l.o.o.d.y and ravaged, and Edwin had put him there. However justified, however much it'd been in self-defense, in protection, Edwin couldn't seem to see that right then. He was whimpering, Randall realized, low in his throat, a heartbreakingly ragged sound.

Anthony nudged his nose against Edwin's neck, pushing down slightly. He waited until Edwin had lain down, and very carefully started grooming the blood from his face. Randall remembered Anthony doing that countless times to them as children-when Randall had broken his leg after slipping in mud, Anthony had just pinned him down and groomed him until Randall had fashioned a splint and set the bone. It was a comforting action, a rea.s.surance. Randall went to lie down next to Edwin, grooming his other side, nudging his nose in behind Edwin's ear. Surrounding him with family.

Jed came over, studying the scene and sighing heavily. "Oh, La.s.sie," he murmured, shaking his head. He grabbed the dead hunter's arms, dragging the body away to lay it with the others. There were two men still alive and unconscious. The rest had been taken down by wolves or Jed's guns. Randall wondered what Jed would do with the survivors.

Nudging his face against Anthony's, Randall pulled away and shifted back. The pine needles of the forest floor were cool under his feet. "What are your plans for those two?" he asked, moving toward Jed.

"Haul them back to the camp, bind up whatever's bleeding, and drop them off at the nearest town before they wake up." Jed's eyes flicked over to Randall. "I'm not a monster, kid. I'm not going to kill someone I don't have to. At this point, there's no reason to kill anybody else. Won't send a message we haven't already, and they're sure as h.e.l.l not going to be shooting back anytime soon."

Randall nodded. "I'll help." He and Jed muscled one of the wounded men up between them, carefully carrying him back toward the camp. An older man was waiting for them, a black bag in his hands. No herbs there, just actual medicine.

"Cedric," Redford greeted gratefully. He'd shifted back to two legs, and looked as unconcerned as any of them about being naked. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"Get this guy good enough to travel. Can you keep him unconscious?" Jed lowered the hunter to the ground, Randall gratefully dropping his end of the burden as well.

"I could keep him down with a sedative. Or I could paralyze him and let him feel the pain of his wounds." Cedric seemed positively gleeful about that last idea. "Your choice, Mr. Walker."

Jed was just studying the hunter, jaw working. "Sedate the b.a.s.t.a.r.d," he muttered, stomping back toward the woods, Redford on his heels. "He was just doing a job."

Randall found himself pinned under the weight of Cedric's gaze. "You, there. Are your wits intact enough to hand me equipment?"

"My wits are fine, thank you." Randall crouched next to him, studying the man. "You're a doctor, then? Not, uh, someone who uses odd-smelling pastes?"

Cedric made an irritated grumbling noise under his breath. "I have a degree and decades of hospital experience. Pastes are for cavemen, and we are in the twenty-first century." A snort rumbled through him, reminding Randall rather vividly of a warthog in an irritated slump. "Not that all their ideas are bad, mind you. Had a nice conversation the other day about natural painkillers. Sometimes the old ideas are the best. But broken bones and cancer, now. Those need something more than incense waving. At least, that's this old doctor's opinion." He looked at Randall, his hands paused above the hunter's body. "Are you one of the Lewis brothers? Redford spoke to me about your eldest brother."

"He has canine Parkinson's," Randall said quietly. "Human doctors are out of the question. We came here for help, but.... I honestly don't think they're doing anything. I had hoped alternative medicine might lend us some sort of relief, but...." Randall hadn't wanted to admit any of this. How profoundly he'd failed. How wrong he had been. This was supposed to be their great cure, their last-ditch effort. And nothing was working. "I think he's getting worse. He's in a lot of pain right now. Do you have anything that could help him? Even getting a full night's sleep would do wonders for him."

"I can do my best," Cedric said gruffly. "Now for G.o.d's sake, stop talking so that I can treat this hunter and we can all go back to our warm beds."

Randall just gave him a brief smile, biting back a laugh. "Yes, sir." He'd had a professor his first semester that made Cedric seem like a cuddly teddy bear. He could handle a bit of grump. "What do you need?"

Jed arrived then with Redford, carrying the second hunter between them. "I've got some of the guys digging graves," Jed said, sounding unusually somber. "We'll bury them where they fell. I took their wallets. We'll leave them with these two so they can take care of notifying whoever the f.u.c.k needs to be."

"I'll get started on that," Redford murmured to Jed. "You go with Cedric and the hunters back to the camp, just in case they wake."

Jed gave Redford a quick kiss. "Be safe, babe. I'll be back in two hours."

Randall and Cedric worked together to wrap bandages around whatever wounds the hunters had, with Cedric wrapping and Randall lifting whatever limb Cedric needed him to. It didn't take more than a few minutes before Cedric declared them ready to travel, and glared at various wolves until they shifted back to help carry the hunters. Randall watched as Jed finished loading everything in the van. He and Cedric climbed in and took off, their taillights disappearing around the bend.

And then it was over. An hour ago he'd been wrapped up in Victor, in slow kisses and hands sliding on skin. And now he was dirty, he had blood smeared in odd places, and three men were dead. Rubbing his hand through his hair, Randall sighed and took off to find his brothers. Nothing like a perfect end to a perfect evening.

Anthony was still next to Edwin. The blood had been cleaned off Edwin's face, but they hadn't moved. Randall carefully sat, and Edwin rested his chin on Randall's knee, looking up at him with huge, sad eyes. Ever since he'd been a kid, Edwin had felt safer in his wolf form. It was unsurprising that now he'd stay shifted, even if it meant that a conversation was going to be distinctly one-sided. Randall gave Anthony a helpless look, rubbing his hand across Edwin's face, scratching absently behind his ear.

Well, they couldn't stay out in the woods for the rest of the night. So Randall stood again, scooping Edwin up and holding him close to his chest. He'd done this all the time when Edwin was a puppy. He was distinctly heavier now, but Randall just shifted his weight and started the slow walk back toward their cabin.

They managed to get inside, Anthony jumping up onto the bed where Randall put Edwin. Edwin curled up in a ball, his tail over his nose, watching Randall and Anthony quietly. Anthony shifted back and pulled on some sweats, then went to sit beside Edwin.

After what felt like an eternally long stretch of silence, Anthony said, "It's sad that you had to take a life, Edwin. But I'm proud that you saved lives by doing it."

Edwin whined lowly, turning to nudge his nose into Anthony's side. Randall quietly went and found a pair of loose pajama pants to pull on, grabbing a blanket for Edwin. "You did good, Ed," Randall told him, crouching by the bed and carefully covering Edwin up. "If you hadn't killed him, he would have killed us. You did what you had to."

After a long moment, with a sigh, Edwin shifted back. He wound up curled on the bed, his head resting on Anthony's knee. "You didn't kill anyone," he pointed out quietly, tears br.i.m.m.i.n.g in his eyes. He looked so young. So vulnerable. Randall felt a spasm of guilt for letting Edwin be a part of that, of all of it, of a war that seemed so determined to shatter their quiet, sheltered lives.

"Redford did," Anthony replied, smoothing his hand over Edwin's hair. "Jed did too."

"I would have," Randall told Edwin. "To protect you guys, I absolutely would have."

"But it's okay to mourn." Anthony looked pained, the corners of his lips pinched with guilt. Randall knew what he was thinking. Anthony was wishing he'd been the one to kill that hunter, not Edwin. Their whole lives, Anthony had been protecting them, had been taking on the hard stuff so they didn't have to. Of course he'd wish he could take this too. "It's okay to feel sad, Edwin."

"Taking a life should always be something somber." Randall wasn't nearly as good at this sort of thing, but he tried. "Like when we thank the earth for giving us meat to eat. You protected your pack. There's nothing to feel guilty about. But taking a life is something worth feeling remorse over. It would have been better if we'd never been in that position. The fact that we were doesn't change that it sucks."

Edwin sighed, but at least he was looking at both of them, less frozen and remote. "Can you guys stay with me tonight?"

It wasn't until Edwin asked that Randall remembered Victor. He'd left him in the cabin; surely he'd be worried by now. "Yeah, Ed," Randall said, gently rubbing Edwin's shoulder. "How about you take a shower? I'm going to go, uh, use Victor's shower, I think. I'll be back as soon as I'm not covered in mud." He very deliberately did not meet Anthony's gaze at that, trying to sound casual. He wasn't sure if he succeeded.

Despite the heavy mood, Anthony smirked suddenly. "So that's why I can smell medusa all over you. Have fun in Victor's shower."

"Shut up, Ant," Randall grumbled, but he couldn't help his smile. One last hug to Edwin and Randall eased out of the door, making his way back to Victor's cabin. He hadn't bothered to put on a shirt or shoes. He really did need to wash, and he could put on his clothes after.

He knocked lightly on the door, cautiously poking his head in. "Uh, Victor? Are you still awake?"

He was grabbed in a hug before he could really react. "Good G.o.d, you're all right," Victor breathed in relief. Randall's arms slowly went around Victor's waist, pulling him in closer. "I'm sorry I didn't join the, er, attack force. After my last attempt I thought it prudent to stay out of the way." Victor drew back, cupping Randall's face between his hands. "Are you all right?"

A very faint, rueful smile touched one corner of Randall's mouth. "Edwin killed one of the hunters. He's... understandably not doing well. And Anthony's in pain, even though he'd never admit it. But I think they'll be fine with a night's sleep." Randall rested his hand over Victor's heart. "I'm glad you stayed inside. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"I'm glad your brothers are okay." Victor raised an eyebrow. "But I did ask about you, specifically. You're not injured?"

Blinking, surprised, Randall glanced down at himself. "I don't think so, no. I nearly... one of the hunters nearly...." Randall pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "I'm perfectly fine. Not hurt at all."

Victor nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Randall simply wrapped his arms more tightly around Victor, nudging his nose into Victor's neck and taking a deep breath. "This. This is extraordinarily helpful." After a moment, though, he pulled back with an apologetic wince. "I'm sorry. I'm a mess. I, uh, I don't suppose I could use your shower?"

"By all means, use away," Victor said. He looked reluctant to step back from Randall, but he did so in order to gather Randall's clothes from where they'd been carelessly tossed. "There's everything you'd need in there. I hope my shampoo doesn't smell horrendous to a nose of your caliber."

A faint grin crossed Randall's face, and he pulled Victor back in to sniff enthusiastically at Victor's hair. "No, I think that's good," he informed Victor innocently. "I quite like how you smell."

There was a quick knock at the door, interrupting them. Randall went to it, cautiously pulling it open to find Mallory. "Sorry to bother you," Mallory said, giving him an amused look with a glance back at Victor. "We're setting up a heightened patrol around the camp for tonight. The Gray Lady wishes to speak with you and your group in the morning." It wasn't phrased as a request.

Randall nodded. "I'm about to head back to my brothers. I'll let them know."

"Good. We're asking everyone to stay inside until morning as well. Just for security." Mallory nodded at them both before taking off for the cabin Redford and Jed were sharing.

"Well, that's going to be an interesting meeting." Randall shoved his hair back, sighing wearily. He shuffled toward the bathroom, taking his clothes from Victor. He hesitated, their fingers barely touching, searching Victor's face. "Have you... thought about it at all? What you'd do if the wolves really leave?" Perhaps this wasn't the right time to ask. Maybe there was no good time. But the question was out there, hanging between them, and Randall knew he couldn't take it back even if he'd wanted to.

"If you'd asked me a few days ago, my answer would have been very different," Victor sighed. "Now? I have to admit, I don't particularly like the thought of never seeing you again. I'm not sure what that means for my plans."

It wasn't a definite answer, but considering they'd only barely started, and Victor would have to uproot his entire life and his job the same as them, Randall figured he couldn't expect much more. Randall took Victor's hand and lightly kissed his palm, eyes closed. "That's what I think too," he murmured. He couldn't leave his brothers. Anthony needed the pack. After everything Randall had done to get them there, he couldn't just walk away.

So what could that possibly mean for him and Victor?

"I'm going to shower and then go back to my brothers," he said quietly. "Edwin needs us there tonight. I was thinking about reading him some P.G. Wodehouse." Randall gave Victor a slight smile. "I don't know how you feel about things like that, or if you'd even want, but I thought I'd mention... my bed there is plenty large enough for two. If you were thinking about going to sleep soon and thought company sounded nice."

"That depends on if your brothers snore." The arch tone of Victor's voice was softened by the squeeze of his hand on Randall's.

"Oh, we all do. Very loudly." Randall's teasing smile just barely crinkled the corners of his eyes. "It's a wolf thing."

He left Victor to consider if he wanted to risk such a task, taking a quick shower and gratefully washing dried blood from his side, mud from his hair. When he came out, towel wrapped around his waist, he felt moderately more himself. A good sleep would take care of the rest, he was sure.

"Not much of an afterglow, was it?" Randall quickly tugged on his slacks, pulling on his shirt and trying to find where he'd set his gla.s.ses down. "I have to say, though, as far as first times go, I can't imagine anything better."

"I'm sure we'll get a chance to try for a better aftermath." Victor pressed Randall's gla.s.ses into his hand. "Are we going back to your cabin now?"

We. Randall smiled. Picking up the book Victor had gifted him with, he reached out with his other hand. "Yes. I think that sounds like a plan." They walked together, Randall leaning his shoulder against Victor's, feeling at that moment like there was very little he'd change in his personal life. However confused he might be about his and Victor's future, he had this moment, and that was worth quite a bit.

"Edwin, I hope you have pants on," Randall said as they entered. "Victor is going to sleep with me." He said it boldly, chin out, almost defying his brothers to refuse Victor entrance.

"As long as I don't hear anything below the belt going on," Anthony grumbled. He seemed preoccupied with Edwin, who was in bed, fussing over his blankets. Randall got a spare pair of pajamas from his bag and handed them over to Victor.

"You can change in the bathroom, if you like." He smiled at Victor, lightly touching the marks on Victor's neck, wanting very much to kiss them. He contented himself with squeezing Victor's hand. "There's a couple of spare toothbrushes in my gray bag on the sink too. Help yourself."

Edwin was watching them quietly, but even he didn't seem to be much in the mood to comment as Victor went to the bathroom. Anthony had shoved all three beds together so it was one huge mattress to sleep on. Edwin curled up against Randall when he'd changed and crawled in, book in hand. "Are you going to read to me, big brother?" Edwin asked, sounding weary.

"I thought I might, yes." Randall left the far side of the bed for Victor, slinging his arm around Edwin, squeezing Anthony's shoulder. "Does that sound okay?"

"It better not be some textbook," Edwin grumbled, but he settled himself under the blankets and seemed quite content to stay, regardless of the reading material.

"Hey, don't complain," Anthony snorted. "A textbook would send you right off to sleep, and that's the aim."

"Besides, you might even learn something," Randall teased, laughing when Edwin poked him in the side. "Oh, hush. You'll like this." He honestly had no idea what the book was about, but anything Victor had cherished since he was a child Randall was absolutely certain he'd love. As Edwin settled in, Randall met Anthony's eyes. "The Gray Lady wants to see us in the morning."

Anthony just nodded, curling up under the covers. He looked exhausted. Randall didn't blame him for not wanting more to worry about. Randall turned the pages to the start of the book, smiling fondly at Victor when he emerged from the bathroom. Randall had to admit, he quite liked the look of Victor wearing his clothes. As Randall started to read, he pulled down the covers next to him, waiting for Victor to slide in.

Victor looked a little awkward as he got in, obviously not used to the idea of sleeping in one big bed with three siblings. Randall hadn't thought it odd. They had done it a lot, especially when they'd been younger or the one winter their fireplace had gotten stopped up and they hadn't been able to heat the house. He nearly apologized to Victor, but Victor settled soon enough, curled up on his side facing Randall. Randall liked this far more than he knew how to express. His pack was there, was close and protected. It soothed him.

As he read, Edwin's eyes slowly drooped until he was asleep, curled up on Anthony's shoulder, his legs sprawled across Randall's. Randall paused, smiling, exchanging a glance with Anthony. "I guess that went as well as could be expected." He honestly didn't want to stop reading, he was quite enjoying the story, but Anthony looked a few moments away from sleep himself. Randall closed the book and carefully reached across Victor to set it aside, along with his gla.s.ses.

"Do you like the book?" Victor's voice was soft with sleep, nearly a slur. "It's nice to hear you read it out loud. You have a good reading voice."

Curving his arm around Victor, Randall smiled, letting his own eyes slide shut. "I do like it quite a bit. I like thinking about you reading it too. It makes me feel like we're connected." He moved around in the bed, getting as comfortable as he could with Edwin half on top of him. He wound up with his face pressed against Victor's shoulder, arm slung over Victor's chest. "I am glad you're here." He yawned, nuzzling in closer.

"Me too." With a sigh, it sounded like Victor had dropped off to sleep. Randall kissed his chin, watching him for a few moments. Anthony was asleep now too, he and Edwin warm at Randall's back, Victor's arms around him. His pack was whole and safe and right there. For that moment, Randall couldn't imagine anything better.

"Good night, Victor," he murmured. And as sleep claimed him as well, Randall knew one thing for certain. There was no room at all in his mind for nightmares.

Chapter 14.

Victor WAKING UP to the sounds of three other people breathing in close proximity was not something Victor was used to.

He squeezed his eyes closed in reflex. He didn't know where the other people were, and he couldn't be sure they weren't staring directly at him, just waiting for him to open his eyes and accidentally meet theirs.