Bloodlines (63 page)

He also refused to use a gun. Oh, he’d tried. He’d even approached Jed asking to be taught. But after an hour shooting makeshift targets, Edwin had handed Jed the pistol and declared it
too noisy
before running off to do whatever the fuck he did during the day. Chase butterflies or wash his clothes with talking birds or whatever. Jed would give him this, though—Edwin was goddamn lethal in wolf form.

“Do you like the deer?” Edwin asked, flashing them both a grin. “I got to take it down. It was awesome. We tracked this herd for miles. Normally only the older wolves actually do the kill, out of respect for the animal, but this time they let me and then we gave honor to it and I got to say the blessing and it was
awesome
.” He was practically wiggling in excitement. “Redford, you should come next time!”

“I’m not really much of a hunter,” Redford mumbled, embarrassed. “I’d prefer to do the cooking. I’m much better at that.”

And there was another thing that was going well—Redford hadn’t had an “episode” for the last three weeks. He hadn’t been overcome by the instincts or lost himself. A few times he’d looked like he’d come close, but every time he’d forced himself to breathe slowly and beat back the yellow in his eyes. He’d also become more comfortable around every aspect of the pack. He still wasn’t running around on all fours at the drop of a hat, but he seemed a bit more willing to participate in some of the pack dynamics, and Jed was trying his damnedest to be supportive.

“You could come anyway,” Edwin assured him. “Randall isn’t that great either, but he came last time. I think he just wanted to be helpful.”

Or get out of the camp, Jed figured. Jed wasn’t exactly Oprah, and God knew he
really
didn’t care, but even a blind eunuch could have figured out that Randall and Victor had gone through some kind of pissing match. Which, oddly enough, hadn’t stopped Victor from coming with the pack.

Yeah, Jed didn’t get that either. A week after they’d arrived, Victor had come huffing and puffing into camp. He’d driven the damn rattletrap van as close as he could and hidden it in the woods only to make the hour-long ascent up to the camp. Hell, Jed was just impressed he hadn’t passed out or died. Victor didn’t strike him as the hiking type.

But since Victor had arrived, Randall hadn’t said two words to him. Which was probably weird, but honestly, at least now Jed only had to deal with one nerd at a time. Victor had thrown himself into helping set up the school and was, at that moment, surrounded by a bunch of kids, half of them in wolf form, teaching them the history of their people around the campfire. It had been funnier when Victor had looked terrified of anyone younger than twenty-five. Now he was actually
smiling
—if a bit awkwardly—at the kids. Weird.

“Randall isn’t that great at what?” Randall had appeared, pausing to give Knievel a scratch just in front of her tail. “My ears are burning.”

“Hunting,” Edwin replied, flopping down on the ground to stick his nose in Knievel’s face. The cat touched her nose to his and then rubbed her cheek against his jaw. “Red was just saying he wasn’t good enough to go with the party next time, but you went!”

“Yes, well, it was educational to be sure,” Randall replied dryly, taking a careful seat next to them. “I think I’ll stick to helping out here in the future.”

Anthony was incredibly involved in getting everyone settled and helping the sentries train. Edwin was a hunter and learning how to fight. Randall, though… well, there wasn’t much call for the bookish type out here. He didn’t seem to have a place to fit in. Normally Jed would tell him to go do the school thing, but since he very much did not want to know what was going on there, he decided to keep his damn mouth shut.

Redford shifted on Jed’s lap, casting a glance at the still half-full tray and then a frown at Jed with a silent reminder for him to keep eating. “Maybe I’ll try going out with the hunting party tomorrow,” he said, phrasing it more like a question.

Obligingly popping another bite of the meat in his mouth, Jed nodded. “That sounds awesome. I’m going to do a few training exercises I think, see if the Fur Pigeons can spot me sneaking into camp. Going hunting sounds like way more fun than crawling in the dirt for four hours.”

“It probably is.” Redford smiled. “Oh, and Anthony was looking for you earlier. He said he wanted to talk to you, but I don’t know why. I think he’s with Cedric at the moment.”

Nodding, taking one last bite, Jed kissed Redford’s cheek and regretfully dislodged him from his lap. “Duty calls. Want to come with?”

“I promised I’d help clean up after cooking.” Redford didn’t look too happy at the prospect—he’d always hated doing dishes, and Jed had never managed to get the hang of it. Between them, they were just grateful to have a dishwasher in their apartment back home. “I’ll see you after?”

Kissing him, ignoring the exaggerated gagging sounds Edwin was teasing them with, Jed smiled. “I think that’s a plan. Our tent. Tonight. I have plans.” Plans involving driving Redford so out of his mind with pleasure he forgot to try to be quiet so no one would hear them. Tents had thin walls; that wasn’t Jed’s problem.

“It’s the full moon tonight,” Randall pointed out. He’d brought out a book, the same book he’d been carrying around since they’d arrived at the new camp, and was half absorbed in the well-worn pages. “I think you might need to take a rain check. I’ve never been around this many wolves during one before, but I kind of think it’s going to be a little more intense than usual.”

Redford stared at Randall, worry pinching the edges of his expression. “Intense how?”

“Remember the summer solstice when everyone started howling?” Randall glanced up, arching an eyebrow at Redford. “That was probably not even close.”

Redford had gone bright red. “I can’t imagine,” he said faintly, darting a worried, but also fond, look at Jed. “The summer solstice was already, um, crazy.”

Jed just grinned widely back. “Oh man, I am clearing my schedule tomorrow for sure.” Forget his plans. “’Cause I think I’m not going to be able to walk once you get back.” Goddamn, that was a happy prospect. Redford would go out and do his running thing and then come back all naked and blissed out and fuck Jed into the ground. That was definitely the new plan of action.

Snorting quietly, Randall returned to his book. “I need to find earplugs.”

“I’m just going to sleep in the woods tomorrow,” Edwin decided. “You guys are
loud
.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you aren’t getting laid,” Jed informed both of them smugly. “My boyfriend is hot as hell, and I refuse to restrain myself.” With that, Jed tugged Redford in for a slow kiss, biting his lip lightly before he headed off to find Anthony.

He found him in the new medical center, which was actually just a single room plywood hut that Cedric had claimed as his own. Anthony was seated with an IV in his arm, staring out the window while Cedric made notes and fussed over a stack of books on the desk. Plopping down on one of those rolling stools, Jed grinned at Anthony, sliding his way across the floor. “What’s going on, fur butt?”

It sucked, that Anthony was sick. More than sucked. A guy like that, full of life, he shouldn’t have to worry about medicine and getting weaker. But crying about it wasn’t going to do a damn thing.

“Hi, Jed.” Anthony sounded tired but pleased to see him. “Have you got a free minute?”

“Well, I did have a pedicure scheduled,” Jed drawled, spinning idly in half circles on the stool. “But hey, I can get my french tips later.”

At least Anthony laughed at his jokes, unlike some people. Jed wasn’t going to name and shame, but, well, Victor. “Okay, I won’t beat around the bush, then. Cedric says it’s too early to tell if his treatment is going to do anything. I wanted to ask you for something.”

Eyebrow rising, Jed stopped fidgeting. “Updated reading material? ’Cause I gotta tell you, as much as I love the one copy of
Home & Garden
from 1958, it’s getting kind of old.”

Anthony frowned contemplatively. “Was
Home & Garden
even being published then?”

Jed shrugged. “They had homes back then, kid. And gardens. And words.”

“I don’t know, that’s pretty far back. Did they even have the written language then?” Anthony teased.

“I was not even a glimmer in my father’s eye back then, so for all I know they had fucking dinosaurs.” Laughing, Jed shook his head. “So, what do you want me to get? I’ve got a trip to town scheduled. I can pick up some gossip mags for your secret boy band crush stalking.”

Anthony smiled, but that time he didn’t get distracted. “I wanted to ask you a favor. I know this might sound pretty dramatic, and I’m not asking you to seriously commit to anything. But—” He drew a deep breath. “—if I die, I want to know that there’ll be someone looking out for my brothers. Just checking in on them every once in a while to make sure they’re okay. And I can’t think of anyone better for the job than you.”

Well. That was one good way to get Jed focused. A frown crept over his face, and Jed instinctively shook his head, wanting nothing more than to get up and run. “I’m pretty sure you must be taking the good drugs, then, Rin Tin Tin.” Jed didn’t do
family
. He’d never been good at it. Redford was… a massive exception to the rule. “I’m not your guy.”

“I’m not asking you to live with them and hold their hand, Jed. Just a phone call every once in a while. Help, if they need it.” Another wolf ability, besides the senses and the glamorous fur coat, must have been the ability to give irritatingly good pleading eyes. Redford had it down, and now Anthony was giving him the same face.

Jaw tight, Jed just shook his head more determinedly. “You want Red,” he grunted, staring somewhere over Anthony’s left shoulder. “Or, fuck,
Victor
. Anybody but me. I’m not the person someone wants checking up on them. They get in a tight spot, sure, I’m there. But everyday stuff isn’t my thing.”

“I’d ask Victor if I didn’t think Randall would hang up on him,” Anthony said wryly. “And since Randall would, Edwin would. Can I ask both you
and
Redford, then?”

Leg jiggling, Jed tried to think of a really good excuse. Like he was allergic to hugs or he was pretty sure he turned into a wolf-eating maniac on full moons. A were-man of some sort. In the end, though, Jed just heaved a sigh and nodded. “Fine. Redford does the emotional shit, though.” He nudged Anthony’s shoulder. “Not that this conversation matters. You’re going to be fine.”

Before Jed could protest, Anthony had reached out and gotten an arm around Jed’s shoulder, dragging him into a hug. It was, needless to say, a bit awkward while both of them were sitting down. “Thank you,” Anthony mumbled against Jed’s shoulder. “Really. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Patting Anthony’s back, floundering more than a little, Jed cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. Good talk.” Christ, he hated stuff like this. Who just went around
hugging
people? It was weird. Anthony didn’t even let him go after the allotted two seconds. He just kept hugging him.

After an excruciatingly long time, Anthony said, laughter under his words, “You really hate being hugged, don’t you?”

“I like naked hugging,” Jed grumbled, arms now stiff at his sides, completely unsure what he was supposed to be doing. “That’s the only kind of hugging that counts.”

Anthony scoffed. “Regular hugging is good too. Here, I’ll give you a tip. Lift your arms and put them around me. You will have then successfully hugged me back and I’ll let you go.”

Well, that didn’t sound like a viable option at all. Wincing, Jed held still, hoping Anthony would give up. The bastard just tightened his grip, and Jed swore he could feel him laughing silently. Finally, letting out an exasperated breath, Jed raised his arms and gave Anthony another quick double tap on the back. “There. Fucking hell, you freaking muppet.”

Anthony was a man of his word. He let go and sat back in his chair. “Now, was that so scary?”

Glaring at him, Jed rubbed the back of his neck, feeling as awkward as some teenager after their first date. “Whatever. You need anything else while I’m in here? Should we do each other’s makeup and talk about boys?”

“We totally should.” Anthony was so deadpan Jed found he couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. His heart sank. Shit. Was this like a Make-A-Wish thing? Did he now have to follow through for the sick guy?

Fuck that. “You come near me with mascara and I will kick your ass, I don’t care how many needles the doc has got in your arm,” Jed grumbled, scowling. “My lashes are perfect. I don’t need a goddamn thing on my face.”

Anthony’s expression split into a grin. “So you’ve spent time thinking about your eyelashes, huh?”

Jed swore he was going to hit him. Jed rolled his eyes heavily, flopping back in his chair. “You are an asshole,” he declared.

“A loveable one,” Anthony corrected. “So, have you got anything planned for this night’s full moon?”

“That’s debatable.” Going back to making lazy circles on the stool, shooting Anthony the required scowls as he turned, Jed shrugged. “Spend as much time with Red as he wants. Sleep. Get fucked into the ground when Red gets back.” A slow smirk spread across Jed’s face. “You know, nothing big.”

Victor would have scowled at him. Hell, most people would have protested that was way too much information. Anthony simply slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Good luck. You’ll need it, especially if Redford is getting more in tune with his instincts.”

The smirk turned into a full-on grin. “Any tips?”

“Eat a lot of carbs and try not to pass out,” Anthony laughed. “Wolves are more energetic than most.”

“I’ve never had a complaint.” Snorting out a laugh, Jed waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I think I can keep up just fine.”

“I’m sure you can.” Anthony half turned in his chair as Cedric bustled over to do something with the IV in his arm. “Okay, Jed, I’m sure you have something better to do than watch me get treated. But thank you.” Anthony looked up at him again, a teasing light in his eyes. “For a human, you’re pretty good to have as a friend.”