Redford
REDFORD RECALLED a movie that he had once seen wherein the protagonist, upon leaving home, had abandoned his dog. While driving away, the protagonist had watched in the rearview mirror as the dog grew farther and farther away, looking back at him with pitiful hope and growing disappointment. It had been as if the dog’s expectations of the protagonist returning had vanished with every inch of distance.
Redford felt like that dog. He was sure Jed would laugh at the comparison.
He waited for half an hour. And with every minute, his hope that Jed would turn the van around and come back quickly withered.
When he eventually looked at his watch and saw how much time had passed, Redford supposed he was forced to accept the fact that Jed wasn’t going to come back. Not right now, anyway. He still held out hope that Jed would return later. Surely Jed couldn’t actually leave him forever.
“What are you doing?” With a start, Redford looked over to find Edwin standing next to him, looking off in the same direction Redford had just been pensively staring. “What’s over there?”
Over Edwin’s shoulder, Redford could see the pack moving around in the camp with a greater sense of urgency than he’d previously seen—the Gray Lady had made a decision, it seemed. A few wolves were moving from cabin to cabin, and although Redford couldn’t hear what they were saying, the scent of alarm was evident.
Jed probably knew what that decision was. He just wasn’t here to tell Redford.
“Um. Nothing,” Redford said awkwardly, his words coming out slow, like he had to spend great effort to drag them from within himself. “Jed’s gone.”
Edwin didn’t seem to feel the need to comment on that. He continued staring where Jed’s van had disappeared around the corner, shoulder to shoulder with Redford, letting the silence envelop him. It was probably the longest Redford had ever seen Edwin be still. “Do you want to tell me why?” Edwin finally asked, glancing over at Redford, shaggy blond hair falling across his eyes.
No, actually, Redford didn’t particularly want to talk about it. But he bit back the upset and replied, “I lost control and bit him, and he left.” It was a concise enough summary, even if Edwin probably wouldn’t know the context.
“Well, that seems stupid.” Edwin didn’t seem to grasp the enormity of the situation. “He knows you’re a wolf, right? If Anthony left every time I bit something I wasn’t supposed to, he’d be halfway to China by now.”
“I’m not really a wolf,” Redford said softly. He dropped his gaze from the working wolves to the grass underneath his feet. “Not like all of you.”
Another long moment of quiet. This time, Edwin was squinting up at the sky, contemplating a flight of birds streaking past them. “I wonder if they all have different-colored feathers,” he mused. “I mean, they all look kind of alike to us, though, right? They’re just all birds. We don’t know if one of them learned how to fly late or if one has the ugliest beak or if all of them have different-colored feathers. They just are birds.”
“Or if one of them loses their mind every once in a while and attacks people?” Redford said wryly.
Edwin gave him a lopsided grin, totally unaffected. “Yeah. Or that.” He leaned in close to Redford—and however far Redford leaned back in startlement, Edwin leaned with him, getting in to nuzzle his nose under Redford’s ear, taking a deep breath. “You smell like wolf to me. So that other stuff, that’s just what you have to figure out. Doesn’t change that you’re one of us. You’re pack.”
It was both the most comforting thing anybody had ever said to him and the absolute last thing Redford wanted to hear.
“That’s kind of why Jed left,” Redford admitted. “He said… that I needed to be here to help myself, but he didn’t want to stay here with me.”
Edwin’s lips tugged downward into a frown, and he sighed sympathetically. “What do you think?” he prompted. “Do you think you need to be here?”
Honestly, with everything that had been happening lately, Redford hadn’t had the time to think about that. He could see why being with the pack could help him—it certainly seemed to have helped already, just being around people who were completely comfortable with the nature that Redford still feared inside himself. But as a permanent solution, he didn’t think he’d want to live with them.
He liked his apartment with Jed. It had been his idea to spend the full moons in the apartment, after Jed had convinced him that his grandmother’s basement wasn’t doing him any good. He liked spending his full moons with Jed.
But he had to admit, the latest one had been his favorite. There had been nothing but the woods and the dirt under his paws, and Jed beside him as much as he could manage. Redford had never felt so free.
“I think it’s probably been helping me more than my psychologist,” Redford said, giving a mental apology to Dr. Alona. Sitting in his office or speaking with him over the phone had certainly been informative, and Redford would be forever grateful to the doctor for at least helping him keep his mind together this long. But it didn’t compare to actually getting outside and feeling free.
Edwin crouched down, picking up a stick to poke at a line of ants walking past. He let the insects march onto the wood, watching as they accepted the new obstacle and kept moving. “So do you want to stay?”
“If Jed was still here I’d say yes.” Redford crouched down next to Edwin, picking up a stick of his own and laying it across the path of the ants. If nothing else, it was certainly interesting to watch and a decent distraction. “I’ve never been good at being anywhere on my own, though.”
“You’re not alone,” Edwin pointed out practically. He was busy gathering bits of wood and small rocks, building a fortress around the anthill. “You have us, now.”
Redford didn’t want to say, that doesn’t count. He didn’t want to be rude about it. But with Jed gone, Redford once again felt like he didn’t fit here. The Lewises were nice, and they’d made every effort to make Redford feel at ease with them, but they weren’t his family. They weren’t his pack.
They weren’t Jed.
“I’m not sure I even know how to be in a pack,” Redford said honestly. “I… you and Anthony and Randall, you’ve been really nice, but I only met you a week ago. I don’t know if it’s true that wolves need packs. I’ve only ever needed Jed.”
Edwin just smiled at him, still as friendly as ever, like nothing really could be that wrong about anything Redford was saying. “He’s your mate,” Edwin surmised with a nod. “Even if he is human.”
“I think so,” Redford replied, tentative. “I didn’t really know what a mate was until this morning. Anthony explained it to Jed and me. It sounds right.”
“Well, you want to be with him, right?” Edwin was busy fashioning a tiny flag out of a twig and a leaf. “Like… not just kind of. You need it. When he’s not around, you get all achy, right here.” He rubbed a hand over his chest.
Redford couldn’t help a quick huff of a laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed. The voice that his instincts had made inside his head had once called Jed mate. Redford still did think it was a slightly silly word, though. “Exactly like that.”
“He’s not a good match, you know,” Edwin commented casually, propping his little flag on top of the barricade wall he’d made around three sides of the anthill. “I mean, I like Jed. But he’s human. And that gets tough. I get why he’d leave, a little. If I thought that Ant or Randall would be happier without me, I’d go too. Even if it’d hurt.”
That wasn’t exactly making Redford feel any better. What was he supposed to do, just accept that Jed had left? Condone it, even? He couldn’t do that. He could never be okay with the idea that Jed wouldn’t be in his life anymore.
“Why does it get tough if he’s human?” That notion, at least, was the one thing Edwin had said that didn’t make Redford feel horrible. “He’s always been even stronger than me.”
“That’s not true.” Edwin rocked back on his heels, nose twitching as he watched the ants make their way into their fortified home. “I mean, I don’t know, Jed looks like he could lift a lot of heavy things, but that’s not all that makes you strong.”
“I meant personality wise,” Redford said. “He’s confident and determined and smart. More than I am, in any of those things. Why does his being human change anything?”
“Still not what makes you strong,” Edwin said, voice a happy little hum as he laid his hand down for the ants to march across. “But humans are… tricky.” He looked up, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Anthony and Randall are both better at this than I am. They’d probably get mad at me. I mean, Ant always told me that we’re all equal. But we’re kind of not too, you know? I’ve heard what some of the naturals have said, the half bloods and stuff, and I don’t know, some of it makes sense. Jed’s not going to live as long as you, for one. But you age slower too. So in twenty years, he’ll be old, and you’ll be not even in your prime. You’ll want kids. I mean, not every wolf does, but I bet you will. And Jed can’t really do what a pack needs to do. He can’t run with you on full moons, not like another wolf. He can’t hunt with you. And he doesn’t get your instincts.” Edwin’s attention returned to the ants. “It just seems like it’d be really hard.”
Redford couldn’t help but remember, back when he’d first met the Lewises, how Edwin had used none-too-kind language toward humans. He didn’t seem like he genuinely wanted all the humans gone, but he did possibly believe that they weren’t equal, and that the supernatural creatures came out on top of that equality argument.
He could kind of see where Edwin was coming from. Some of that was true—Redford would age slower, and Jed wouldn’t forever be able to keep up with him. But the rest of it, frankly, just sounded like personal issues. Jed was smart; he would get his instincts if they were properly explained. And the need for a pack? Redford had never felt it. He’d grown up alone, and while he’d longed for company, Jed fulfilled every single need for family and love.
“And what happens when one half of a mate pairing isn’t around anymore?” Redford asked glumly. “Anthony told us about his, um, well, what happened to him. He looked miserable.”
“He is.” There wasn’t a smile hovering around Edwin’s lips at that. He slowly drew his hand back, making sure the ants were all in place and undisturbed. “Sometimes I honestly think that if it hadn’t been for me and Randall, Ant would have just stopped. Or gone after him. Either way, he wouldn’t be here.” Edwin shrugged. “Maybe that’s why everyone says not to fall for a human. It’s too scary to think about them being gone.”
Redford couldn’t exactly go back in time and prevent himself from meeting Jed, and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to. Jed had made his life so much better. Nobody other than Jed had showed even the slightest interest in caring about him.
Jed hadn’t been the first person to visit Redford’s house after his grandmother had died. Distant family had turned up at his door, mailmen with packages delivered to the wrong address, repairmen, next-door neighbors. None of them had even looked at him twice. But Jed had. Jed had looked and had seen him, and Redford had fallen in love so quickly it had made his head spin.
And he couldn’t just simply make himself stop loving Jed, could he?
There wasn’t much he could say in reply to Edwin. Yes, it was scary to think about Jed being gone, but that wasn’t going to help Redford right now.
Instead, he twisted around to look back at the camp. The wolves were out in full force now: belongings were being carried to and from cabins; wolves were talking to one another in huddled groups. The whole place was beginning to smell like worry.
“In any case, I’m still going to stay and help with whatever decision the Gray Lady has made,” Redford said, trying to sound calm and collected. “Although without Jed, I’m not sure I’m really going to be much help.” Jed had taken the van, which meant he had every single scrap of equipment with him, other than what was left in the cabin. So that left Redford with a few guns, some maps of the area, his own bag, and the silver bullets they’d found. It wasn’t exactly the beginnings of Fort Knox.
“Do you really love him?” Edwin asked, curious. His hands were resting on his knees, and he was staring up at Redford, head cocked to the side. “Even though he’s human and it’s scary?”
“Yeah,” Redford murmured. “Everything that you and Anthony said about whatever a mate is, that’s Jed for me. The thought of life without him….”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence, because attempting to imagine it wasn’t something Redford wanted to do.
Edwin stood, brushing his hands off on the sides of his jeans. “Okay.” He tugged his shirt off, kicking his pants to the side next and shifting. The blond wolf nudged his head against Redford’s knees, barking up at him twice, tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.
Redford stared at him, uncomprehending. Okay? What was he supposed to take from that? He wasn’t sure if that was a dismissal or a real answer that he just hadn’t figured out the deeper meaning of yet. Did Edwin want him to run with him?
“What does ‘okay’ mean?” he asked.
Edwin chuffed, running happily in little circles around Redford’s legs. He nudged his nose into Redford’s stomach, taking a deep sniff, backing up to bark once more. As if that was supposed to make it clearer. Before Redford could ask any more questions, however, Edwin took off running, a long, pale blur against the ground. He rounded the corner and disappeared into the woods, leaving Redford behind with the ant fort.
Redford still had no clue what any of that was supposed to mean. It would have been so beneficial for wolves to evolve telepathy or some form of communication that didn’t involve barking and random body movements. He hoped Edwin didn’t expect Redford to join him, because going for a run was the last thing on Redford’s mind right then.
He stood with a faint sigh, carefully brushing stray ants off the bottom of the jeans. He wanted to ask someone what was happening, but all of the wolves looked busy, and Redford wasn’t sure that the Gray Lady would appreciate a visit from him alone. He thought he could see Anthony and Randall in the distance, and Victor was bound to be around somewhere.
Redford just wanted Jed.
If he wanted to leave, he would have to make his way to the main road, well away from the camp, but that was doable. He could call a cab or find a bus station or something.
But then where would he go? If Jed didn’t want to be with him anymore, then Redford doubted he would be welcome in Jed’s apartment. They kept all their money in joint accounts, so at least he’d have funds. He hoped.
So. No home to go to. No Jed waiting for him.
It was enough to make Redford want to sit down and not move for a very long time. The panic that was starting to gather in his gut would be all too easy to give in to. But it wouldn’t help anything, and Redford had promised to be of use to this pack.
With great effort, he shoved the anxiety aside and forced himself to stop thinking about the future. All he could focus on was the present, and while the absence of Jed was still a hole in his heart, Redford at least had something he could concentrate on while he desperately hoped Jed would return.
With newfound determination, Redford marched his way toward the Gray Lady’s house. He was sure he could be of use—he might not have an arsenal at his disposal anymore, but he still had his mind, and he would be able to aid them in security planning if they had indeed planned to stay and fight.
Mallory stopped him at the door, his features as stern as ever. “She’s not in right now.”
“Oh,” Redford said awkwardly, the wind taken out of his sails. “Um. When will she be back?”
“I don’t know.” Mallory stared at him. There was a hint of a crinkle to his nose, a very faint dislike for Redford’s scent. “Why did you need to talk to her?”
“I wanted to find out whether the pack is staying and fighting, or running.”
“We’re leaving.” Redford couldn’t tell whether Mallory liked the idea or not. “As soon as possible. We estimate in a week or so.”
Redford didn’t immediately blurt out the answer that came to mind. He had been in synch with Jed’s approval for running at first, but when Anthony and Randall had argued in favor of fighting, he’d had to admit they had a point. The hunters wouldn’t get bored of looking for them, even if they did move seven states over. O’Malley wouldn’t simply declare that it was too far away, he’d just relocate the hunters.
But it wasn’t his decision, and he had wanted to help the pack in whatever way he could. So he thanked Mallory and left, unsure about what he should do. He supposed he could help them gather their belongings, but Redford doubted that anybody would want him going through their things.
At a loss, he made his way toward the bonfire, picking his way through the wolves moving through the camp.
Randall had apparently spotted him, because he was making his way to Redford, Anthony trailing behind. They dodged around huddled groups of wolves, Randall pausing to take Anthony’s elbow casually when Anthony started to slow his step. “Hello.” Randall smiled at Redford, finding a log around the bonfire for Anthony to sit on. “Did I see Edwin over here just a bit ago?”
“Um, yeah, he ran off that way.” Redford pointed in the direction of the woods near the gate. “I don’t know what he was doing.”
“Wolf or human?” Randall asked, seemingly not disturbed at all at the idea of his brother randomly running around.
“Wolf,” Redford replied.
Anthony just sighed. “He’ll be back eventually. I do wish he’d take his phone with him, or I could attach a GPS to him or something.”
“Maybe a pink collar with a jingly bell.” Randall gave his brother a quick smile. “He’d like that.”
“He’d chew it off after an hour,” Anthony snorted. “And you know he’d just bitch about the bell all the time for making him unstealthy. Which he still somehow thinks he is.”
Randall was watching Redford, a crease appearing between his eyes. “Hey.” He nudged Redford’s foot with his own, head cocked in a way that distinctly reminded Redford of Edwin. “Um. Are you all right? You look… not so much.”
That was an apt way to sum it up, Redford supposed. He had been listening to Anthony and Randall, but he realized now that he’d been staring at the gates, waiting for some sign that a van with Jed in it was going to drive back through them.
There was no sign yet.
He didn’t want to tell them. Redford had already had that conversation with Edwin, and he had no desire to repeat it. But they deserved to know, at the very least because Randall had hired Jed, even if Jed had already fulfilled the original request. “Jed’s gone,” he said succinctly. “I’m sorry. But I think I can still be of use to the pack, so I’m staying for as long as I’m needed.”
Randall blinked, surprise flitting across his face and then something quite a bit like the opposite. As if he’d been expecting that. “Seems to be a theme.” He offered Redford a slight smile. “I am sorry. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re going to be massively helpful.”
Redford wasn’t so sure, but he appreciated the thought. Anthony wore the same look that Randall did, a faint resignation, though Anthony looked more disappointed at Jed’s leaving. “Did he say why—” Anthony cut himself off. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry.”
Redford couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud again anyway, so the apology was just as well. Instead, he changed the topic. “I just heard that the pack is leaving. What are you guys going to do?”
Randall took off his glasses and cleaned them on the tail of his shirt, staring at the ground as if it was suddenly very interesting. Perhaps all the Lewises had a fascination with ants. “We hadn’t discussed that yet. But Anthony’s treatment is ongoing, so I don’t suppose there’s much choice.”
Redford grimaced in sympathy. They would have to uproot their entire lives to continue staying with the pack, and though Redford didn’t know too many details of Anthony’s medical treatment here, all he’d seen was some weird herb gunk that Anthony was using on his hands. It wasn’t exactly advanced medical treatment, at least, not what Redford would imagine.
“If there’s any way I can help, just name it,” Redford offered. “I know I’ve technically exceeded what you originally hired me for, but you’ve been…. I haven’t exactly had a lot of friends in my life.”
Randall gave him a slight smile. “Nor have I. It’s nice to count you among them.”
Having the Lewises as friends still wasn’t enough to make Redford feel completely content about a possible future with the pack without Jed, but it did help.
Anthony pushed himself up to stand, and before Redford could react, Anthony had engulfed him a hug. Redford froze, not sure what to do. “From one wolf who’s had a nonwolf mate run off to another, we’re here for you,” Anthony assured him, the very picture of earnestness.
Redford couldn’t help but notice that Randall looked sad too. He had to wonder if it was something to do with Victor.
A small, very spiteful part of the back of his brain said, do relationships ever actually work out? All three of them were currently upset over the loss of them. He couldn’t hold on to that spite for very long, though, not when the ache of Jed’s absence made itself known again.
“Well, aren’t we a fun trio.” Randall forced a smile, shaking his head. “Maybe I should go try to date one of these wolves here, since apparently all the horror stories I’ve read about dating half bloods and humans are right.”
“Apparently so,” Anthony said wryly, drawing back from Redford, who took the opportunity to collect his breath. Anthony hugged with the grip of an octopus. “If you want to make me happy, you and Edwin will find some nice wolves and settle down with a nice pack.”
Randall’s smile faded slightly, but he nodded, once more cleaning his glasses that, to Redford, didn’t look to need the attention. “I suppose I should go get busy, then,” he murmured in a faint voice, clearly attempting to sound teasing. “Before all the good ones are taken.”
“Of course, what would make me even happier,” Anthony continued, “is if I could find Victor and growl at him until he pulls his head out of his ass and dates you.” He glanced around the camp, seemingly seeking out Victor, and frowned when he couldn’t see him. “You two are perfect for each other. I have no idea why he’s being the way he is.”
A frown curled Randall’s lips slightly, and he fidgeted in his seat, seemingly wishing he hadn’t even brought it up. “Not so perfect,” he corrected softly. “And we’re dropping it, Anthony. I’ve imposed on the poor man enough.”
Anthony gave a doubtful snort. “He’ll realize you’re good for him soon enough. He’d have to be an idiot not to, and he does seem really smart.” He grinned suddenly. “He wrote all those books, remember, Randall?”
“Yes. I remember.” Randall rubbed a hand through his hair. “I remember how long I’ve had a crush on him, Anthony. I also remember him acting as if I was an amusing little boy who followed him home. One moment we’re kissing, the next he’s acting like being with me is horrifying. So perhaps we could focus on Redford, whose mate actually loves him, hm?”
“Do you want me to go find Jed and growl at him?” Anthony asked hopefully.
Despite his mood, Redford smiled a little. “I don’t think that would help. But thank you.”
“It’d be a perfect world where it could help,” Anthony sighed.
Redford decided he would wait three days. If Jed didn’t come back by then, then Redford would go looking for him. He wasn’t about to give up on this relationship after one argument, even if it had been the worst argument of Redford’s entire life. “I’ll give him some time,” he said. “Maybe he just needs some time away to… do whatever he needs to and think things out.”
It was a shot in the dark, a desperate hope. But Redford knew Jed loved him, and he also knew Jed was ridiculously stubborn. He didn’t give up on things easily.
“Humans are ridiculous sometimes,” Randall agreed. “But Jed cares for you, Redford, anyone can see that. He can’t just walk away. I don’t believe it works like that.” He looked vaguely embarrassed to be voicing such a sentimental view.
“I wonder who’s more ridiculous, humans or half bloods,” Anthony mused. “So far we’ve got a count of two half bloods and one human. Really, wolves must be the only sensible lot around.”
“Anthony,” Randall said lightly, almost a warning in his voice, but then seemed to reconsider. With a sigh, he shook his head. “Oh, I can’t even argue with that. Honestly, I don’t know how to read him. It’s as if he’s speaking another language half the time.”
Anthony just laughed, but he seemed more distracted by watching a pack of wolves walk past. As Redford watched, Anthony’s expression took on a resigned tone. “I guess we should think about the fact that we’re moving,” he sighed. “Sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves is all well and good, but….”
“If there’s anything I can do to help,” Redford offered again. “I can lift heavy things, I think.”
“Thanks.” Randall gave him a little smile. “Why don’t you come find us around dinner? I’m guessing Edwin will be back by then; he never misses food. We’ll all go together.”
“He’d better be back by then,” Anthony grumbled. “Seriously, GPS tracker.”
“All right.” Redford nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets, suddenly at a loss for what to do. “I’ll see you then.”
There was a quick flicker of sympathy in Randall’s expression. He reached out to gently squeeze Redford’s shoulder. But Anthony was struggling to stand, knees obviously stiff, and whatever Randall might have said was left in favor of him going to his brother’s side and casually slinging an arm around Anthony’s waist. They both nodded to Redford, making their way back to their cabin with slow, shuffling steps.
What was Redford supposed to do now? His only plan had been to help the Lewises pack, except they’d come here with already packed bags, unlike the wolves that actually lived here, so their packing would take all of two hours. Less, if they were efficient. He didn’t know anybody else here except the Gray Lady and Mallory, and not even very well.
His thoughts wound up turning back to Jed. Jed would know what to do. Jed would be announcing himself as Camp Packing Instructor and corralling everyone. That was the difference between them, Redford supposed—Jed was a natural leader, and Redford was not.
He ended up wandering the perimeter of the camp. A short distance behind the Gray Lady’s house was a waterfall that fed into a lake, which in turn started the river that edged around the east side of the pack’s territory. Redford stood and watched it for a while, trying to think if he’d ever actually seen a waterfall in real life before. His and Jed’s jobs didn’t often take them to particularly scenic places.
If Jed was there, Redford would be holding his hand and asking him if he’d ever seen a waterfall bigger than this one. He’d be pointing the fish in the lake out to Jed, trying to see if he could figure out what species they were and speculating if those were the fish that the wolves caught for lunch and dinner.
Redford heaved a short, hard sigh and left the waterfall. Three days. If Jed wasn’t back by then, Redford would find him. Maybe Jed just needed space and time to think about things. He’d seemed so horrified by the fact that Redford had killed now, and was losing himself in his instincts. Surely, if Jed thought about it, he’d realize he’d never forced Redford to do anything, he’d never corrupted him, he’d merely shown him a better path, and Redford had been free to pick and choose what he did.
And maybe Jed would find some way to be okay with Redford’s dysfunctional instincts, if Redford worked really hard to get them in line. Other than the episode with the hunters, they’d been relatively quiet for the last few weeks. No voices in the back of his mind, no getting up in the middle of the night to growl at shadows. Redford was getting control, he swore.
But wandering around aimlessly and thinking in circles wasn’t going to help anything, so Redford made himself look at the wolves as he passed by them, searching out something he could help with.
There were families and couples, single wolves and young men and women, friends helping friends. They all seemed incredibly close knit, casual with physical affection. Finally, Redford wound up sitting at the bonfire, facing outward, trying not to frown and feel incredibly useless. It would probably be helpful if he could work up the courage to talk to complete strangers, but his thoughts were in enough turmoil as it was.
His eye caught on a family moving around the outside of their cabin. The mother and father, Redford assumed, were busier keeping their two young children in line than they were with packing, exasperatedly running after the two young girls in their attempts to keep them in line of sight.
Redford couldn’t help but smile. Wolf children were energetic, it looked like. He wouldn’t know—he’d been bitten when he was very young, but he didn’t recall having the same kind of energy. His wolf had been a nightmare, not something he’d ever felt in tune with. He’d dreaded the change, the thing that made him different, the reason his grandmother had kept him home from school, had locked him up in the basement on full moons. But watching the kids play, it seemed that here, all the parts of Redford that had been held up as a monster were celebrated in the younger members of the pack.
He didn’t remember much of his parents, Redford realized as he watched the family. He had a faint memory of his mother’s hair, how she’d always kept it long. His father had had a mustache that he’d shaved off. That was, for whatever reason, a big event in Redford’s young memory. They had been kind, he thought, and they had loved him. Redford was sure of that, at least.
Of the camping trip on which they had died and he had been bitten, Redford also didn’t recall much. He remembered howling and his parents’ fear, their attempts to reassure him that wolves wouldn’t attack. He remembered their screams, the crackle of the campfire as a dark shape leapt over it, the pain of a bite on his arm and claws across his face. From then on, Redford’s memories of his youth were dominated by a dry, dusty house and what felt like endless years of full moons and the chafe of metal.
The parents that he was watching would never confine their children like that, for which Redford was glad. The kids looked cute and completely at ease with their wolfish nature. As he watched, one of them went from two legs to four in a sudden collapse of the flowery dress she wore, and a wolf cub struggled out from under the fabric to charge once more at her sister in friendly play.
Redford was so absorbed in watching them that he didn’t hear the footsteps approach him until they were mere feet away, at which point he hunched his shoulders, looking at the stranger with mild alarm.
“You look like you’ve got a decent pair of arms on you,” the man said. He looked about fifty in age, which of course meant he was much older, though Redford wasn’t sure exactly how old.
“Sort of,” Redford answered tentatively. “Do you, um, need… arms?”
Six months ago he and Jed had done a job for a man who kept referring to people’s body parts in really creepy, very culinary ways. Redford had been sure he was a cannibal. He wondered the same of the man in front of him now, though he was sure it was just paranoia.
“I need someone that doesn’t have arthritis flare-ups in cold weather,” the man said. He peered at Redford as if he were calculating exactly how much he wanted to socialize with him, which Redford could empathize with. “And you seem less busy than everybody else here.”
It was only when the man started to look impatient that Redford recognized him. He was from the pack they had helped rescue the other day. Redford distinctly recalled the man gathering the younger wolves together and looking very exasperated when they took more than thirty seconds to line up.
“Um, yeah, sure,” Redford said, hurriedly standing up. “What do you need help with?”
The wolf just walked off, clearly expecting Redford to follow. Redford was fairly sure he’d heard someone call him Cedric. He was led to a communal building on the side of the camp near the tree line, where the refugees had obviously been put up for their stay. Redford recognized some of the wolves they’d rescued mingling with the Gray Lady’s pack—they seemed to be integrating well.
Cedric stopped at a door at the corner of the building and waved Redford inside. “I scavenged some boxes from the healers here. Just old things that they don’t use, equipment and the like. Unfortunately, the people who brought it along for me had the gall to put it on the highest shelves.”
Redford took a quick look around the room. It was Spartan and mostly bare, though some bags with what he presumed were Cedric’s belongings were lined up against one wall. The boxes on the shelves were about shoulder height, and they looked heavy. He figured they were most likely full of herbs and salves, considering what the healers used on Anthony.
When he took a closer look, though, he saw the edge of a scalpel and plastic wrapping jutting out of the box closest to him. Redford couldn’t resist flipping the lid of the box to peek inside. “This is actual medical equipment,” he said, stunned.
“Yes, I did say that.” Cedric frowned. “Unfortunately this pack seems to think proper medicine is how the devil gets inside you.”
Redford had to smile at that. “Are you a doctor?”
“A properly trained one with a degree, yes, unlike the soothsayers here.” Cedric, it seemed, had no patience at all for herbs and natural remedies. Redford liked him already.
“There’s a wolf here,” Redford started tentatively, “who has a degenerative condition. He’s not from the pack, but we came here in the hopes that they’d be able to treat him. It’s canine Parkinson’s, I think it’s called. But all the healers have been doing is giving him some really awful smelling herbs to put on his hands.”
Cedric snorted disdainfully. “Did they chant around him too? Good God, I have no idea how any of them survived with this primitive approach to medicine. It’s a wonder they’re not all crippled or dead.”
“So, do you think you could maybe take a look at him?” Redford asked. He wasn’t sure if it was really his place to ask such a thing for Anthony, but a second consult couldn’t hurt, right?
“If they’re not busy with packing, then I’d be all too glad to have something else to do.” As if on cue, a series of loud thumps came from upstairs, the sound of laughter and what sounded like playfighting. Cedric scowled. “I cannot abide the company of young people in such close quarters for too long.”
Redford made a mental note to introduce Cedric and Victor. He had a feeling they’d probably get on well in their misanthropy.
“Thank you.” Words couldn’t contain his gratefulness. Instead, Redford got a good grip around one of the boxes and pulled, grunting with the strain as he balanced it close against his chest. “Where do you want these?”
He put the box where Cedric directed, alongside the bags lined up against the wall. Redford worked in silence, all the while telling himself that peeking in the boxes wasn’t polite. He did have to wonder exactly what kind of medical supplies Cedric had, though, and if he’d be able to do something more for Anthony than foul-smelling herb concoctions.
Somewhere around the third box, Cedric had sat down in an old chair in the corner of the room, and by the fourth box, Redford realized that Cedric was staring at him—not in a rude way, simply watching closely.
“I imagine you’re getting a lot of odd looks,” Cedric said carefully. “I may not have been in the pack life for very long, but even I can smell that you’re not like everybody here.”
Redford worked hard to contain his embarrassed flinch, but unfortunately he wasn’t all that successful. “It’s a long story,” he mumbled. “Mostly I get weirder looks for being in love with a human.”
Cedric frowned. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Apparently.” Redford set the sixth and final box on the floor, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully face Cedric, afraid of the judgmental expression he might see on the wolf’s face. “I keep getting told that wolves and humans shouldn’t be together. And I think my…. I think Jed got told the same thing too.”
“That is the most fatuous pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my life,” Cedric said bluntly. “You may as well say that two women can’t be together because they can’t have children without medical help. Or that two people from different races can’t be together because they have different cultural backgrounds. What a bigoted, asinine thing to say.”
Taken aback by Cedric’s tone, Redford had to struggle for a response. That was certainly opposite what every other wolf had been telling him. “You, um, obviously think differently.”
“I had a wife of sixty years.” Cedric smiled as he said it. “We met when I was thirty and she was twenty-five. She passed away seven years ago, and I don’t regret our relationship at all. We had sixty years of the best relationship I’d ever had. She understood that I would age slower and outlive her, and that didn’t matter to her.”
“I’m sorry,” Redford said, unable to think of anything properly useful to say.
Cedric snorted. “Don’t apologize, boy. Why should anybody apologize for what we had?” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flipped through it until he found a photo, which he handed to Redford.
It was a picture of Cedric and his wife. Redford couldn’t pinpoint Cedric’s age in the photo, but his wife looked about forty. They looked completely and totally in love. Redford couldn’t help but smile at the picture as he handed it back. “Was she your mate? I’ve been told that… wolves don’t recover from that loss.”
“She was,” Cedric confirmed. As Redford was about to apologize for his loss yet again, perceiving that Cedric might be utterly heartbroken and alone, Cedric continued, “But I am also fine. I miss her every day, but we had sixty years together, and I am content with what we had. It doesn’t mean I will be a sobbing wreck for the rest of my life. Wolves can recover from loss just as well as any other.” He paused, scowl softening as he glanced at the photo. “We might feel things more deeply, but that means the good as well as the bad. Grief, yes, but also every happy memory, every moment of loving her, I’ve got that too. And I wouldn’t trade any of that to spare myself losing her.”
“Oh.” Redford had to take a moment to wrap his mind around that. He couldn’t imagine losing Jed and not being a wreck every day after that, but perhaps some of that grief would be eased by having a lifetime with him. “That’s just really not like what I’ve heard.”
“Everybody is different,” Cedric said. “But is eventual pain a good excuse for not trying for happiness?”
Redford wasn’t good at philosophy. To be fair, Jed was even worse at it than he was. Redford had just never managed to be very good at thinking about things like life principles or vague what ifs. “No?” he guessed.
“No, it’s not,” Cedric agreed. “There will always be pain, whether you try for it or not. Happiness is not guaranteed unless you grasp for it. So whatever those wolves have told you about being with a human, you tell them to shut their mouths, and you do what you like. We’re not clones. You least of all.”
It was one of the grumpiest motivational speeches Redford had ever heard, but he still felt strangely uplifted. “Thank you,” he said with dawning realization. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
“Of course I’m right.” Cedric clearly hadn’t considered any other option. “So you go find your mate and tell him that it is within nobody’s right to give you shit about your relationship.”
“I would, but he… left.” Redford felt a piece of that motivation chip off, but it didn’t die entirely. “I promised myself I’d go find him in three days if he didn’t come back.”
“What is he, Jesus Christ?” Cedric snorted, unimpressed. “You’re not in high school, pup, and you definitely should stop acting like it. Grow some balls and talk it out.”
Redford stared at him, wide-eyed. “Yes, sir,” he said uncertainly. “I’ll, um, get on that right away.”
“Good. Go get him, or the next time I see you I’ll whack you around the head,” Cedric grumbled, but there was a smile touching the corners of his eyes. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Redford thanked him and felt a little overwhelmed as he left. He wasn’t sure what to do with all this new hope. He’d had faith before that he would find Jed, but he hadn’t been sure they’d be able to work out their problems. He still didn’t have a clear answer to that, but nothing changed the foundation of the matter: Jed was the man he loved, and nothing was going to get in the way of that.
He made a mental checklist as he went back to their cabin.
One, he had to work hard at getting his instincts under control. Though the clash of aggression and fear had lessened slightly in the recent weeks, from a combination of Jed’s help, Dr. Alona’s therapy, and the full moon spent properly in the wild, Redford still had work to do.
Two, he would have to convince Jed that Redford hadn’t been corrupted by his influence. Redford wasn’t sure where Jed had gotten the idea that Redford was better than Jed’s job, but it was a notion he would have to help Jed get rid of. The hunters he had killed were human, yes, but killing them wasn’t anything anybody else there wouldn’t have done in a heartbeat. Redford had chosen to help Jed in his job, and it was better than his previous life in every single way. Redford liked their job.
Three, he needed to let Jed know that his being human didn’t harm their relationship at all. That one was going to be slightly tougher, Redford knew, especially surrounded by a pack that thought humans couldn’t possibly meaningfully understand them. But Redford was sure Jed did.
Checklist made, Redford determined that he would set off to find Jed at first light the next morning. As much as he wanted to rush off to find him now, contacting the appropriate people would take time, and they wouldn’t be able to drop everything to come pick Redford up.
He also thought Jed really might need some time to himself. Jed had never been good at talking about his problems. He faltered and said things badly and nearly even stuttered, obviously embarrassed to be talking so openly about his emotions and misgivings. He especially hated being taken off guard by conversations he wasn’t prepared for. For someone who felt so deeply, Jed was bafflingly unwilling to admit to it, as if he thought his emotions were a soft spot someone would use against him. Whatever the situation, when it came to the hard things, the important things, Jed was always better able to wrap his mind around them when given time to process through his knee-jerk reaction of shoving everyone and everything away as hard as he could manage.
So Redford would give him the night. He imagined that Jed would drink a lot and maybe smash some things, but problems were always clearer in the morning.
He knew Jed would come back. He had to, because Redford honestly couldn’t imagine a life without Jed in it.