Bloodlines (71 page)

“I’m sorry,” Anthony murmured. He backed away rather than turning and walking, his head bowed. Victor had never seen a wolf do that, but since he assumed he didn’t need to do the same, he just nodded at the Gray Lady and walked out properly.

All three of the Lewises were looking rather miserable when they finally got outside. The Gray Lady’s thunderous disapproval was clearly weighing on them. Redford had a touch of it in his own expression, but Jed looked completely unbothered.

“That went well,” Redford sighed.

“It did,” Jed agreed with a smile, arm around his shoulders. “No one’s dead, maimed, or bleeding. I call that a win.”

“I guess we should keep packing,” Anthony said morosely.

“We’ll be home soon.” Randall squeezed his arm. “We’ll be back in our own beds, at the lake, and you can lay out in the sun all day while we get you rabbits for stew. Just focus on that.”

Anthony nodded, visibly attempting to gather his courage once more. “Right. Okay, if we get packing we can start driving home by midday.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw Jed and Redford exchange a quick glance, Jed giving a quiet huff of air and an almost imperceptible nod to whatever Redford’s pleading gaze was asking. “Jed and I are getting a plane, actually,” Redford said. “You could join us? It’ll be a lot faster.”

“That would be great,” Anthony said gratefully. “Really. When are you leaving?”

“Whenever you want. A couple of hours drive to get to Mac, but once we’re there, he’ll take us where we need to go. He owes me a coupla three favors, might as well cash them in now.”

“I’ve never been in a plane,” Edwin said, eyes going wide. “What’s it like?”

“Don’t ask me that question,” Jed grunted. “I plan on being very drunk for it. Let’s just put it that way.”

“It’s really fun,” Redford assured. “You can see the tops of clouds, and everything looks really tiny.”

“I liked it,” Randall said quietly, hands in his pockets. “Um, on the way there it was kind of boring, really. The way back was… much nicer.”

Victor smiled at the mention. On the way back from Cairo they had shared a flight, and Victor had found Randall’s company entirely pleasant. Though they had both been battered and bruised and bandaged, they’d talked far longer than Victor normally spoke with people. He had not been in the best mood, considering that he and David had broken up in the parking lot, but Randall had lifted his spirits a little.

“All right, then we’ll plan to be ready around noon,” Anthony said to Jed. “Thank you again. Flying will be a hell of a lot easier than a seven-state drive.”

Victor watched them disperse. The Lewises left for their tents, and Jed and Redford for theirs. He wasn’t sure what he’d do all day without them to speak to. Perhaps he’d catch up on his reading, maybe even some of his research.

He had a collection of journals written by various medusa half bloods over the last few hundred years—Victor had retrieved them from home when he’d gone back for a week, and on a pure whim he’d brought the journals with him. At the time, he’d thought that perhaps he could finally get the courage to look for patterns as to how medusas lost their minds.

Perhaps it would also shed light on other things too.

He retreated to his tent and did some light reading, keeping an eye out for Jed, Redford, and the Lewises. At the very least he wanted to be able to wish them a safe flight. When noon rolled by, Victor caught sight of the Lewises making their way across the camp with their bags. Anthony was carrying one and kept moving it away from Edwin, who was trying to take it off of him. Randall was behind, more bags slung over his shoulders, his head down and a weary tilt to his posture. He straightened up, though, whenever one of his brothers looked back.

Victor had seen that before. It wasn’t a major moment of life, not a turning point or anything particularly influential, so it wasn’t the sort of future memory he tended to remember after looking into someone’s eyes. But as he watched, he remembered multiple versions of how it could have happened. In one version, Anthony had died. The healers had unknowingly given him medicine which had hastened the degeneration of his condition.

In this version, though, the future-now-present that was playing out in front of him, Victor knew exactly how Randall was feeling, because he’d felt it himself. He didn’t want his brothers to know how tired and stressed he was. He didn’t want them to feel burdened with his worry. Acting normal had started to weigh on him. He had been so sure that if he’d done everything right, if he’d educated himself, then everything would have worked out.

But things had only gotten worse. Anthony hadn’t been helped, and now Randall would continue having to move toward taking over seniority of their pack.

And he’d started to like a medusa, only to figure out that Victor had more than a few issues that he needed to deal with before he started to think about settling down.

Knowing all of that was enough to make Victor feel even more guilty, so much so that he contemplated avoiding seeing them off. Surely Randall didn’t need more reminders of the things that were stressful for him. But before Victor could make any kind of decision, Edwin was beside him, wrapping his arms around Victor in a tight hug.

“You’re coming to say good-bye, right?” Edwin asked, voice muffled against Victor’s shoulder.

Victor still had no clue how to act when people hugged him, so he didn’t raise his arms to hug Edwin back. He did, however, gingerly pat his shoulder. “Er, yes, of course.”

Edwin grabbed his hand and hauled Victor over to where Randall and Anthony had gathered, near the entrance of the camp. The vehicles were stored a good half-hour hike down in a cave the pack had sought out to hide their transportation. So this would be the last chance Victor would have to see them. “Hey, guys, Victor is here.”

Anthony looked over, frowning. “You don’t have anything packed. You’re not coming with us?”

Victor had really hoped to be able to avoid that question. He wasn’t ashamed of staying. He did expect to get mocked for being useless or not fitting in, though. “I’m staying for a few more days. I have, er, certain obligations I need to fulfill.”

Randall, Victor noticed, seemed more than a little surprised. It was Jed who spoke, though. “Honestly didn’t expect that.” Standing up from where he’d been crouched next to Knievel’s carrier, Jed held out a hand. “Well, when you get back in town, look us up. We might even let you in the door.”

Victor took Jed’s hand and shook it. “I will,” he promised. “I might even be civil.”

Jed grinned then, clapping Victor on the shoulder and nodding his good-byes. Edwin was next, with another bone-crushing hug. “You still smell funny,” he informed Victor. “But I like it.”

“Thank you,” Victor said dryly and was then engulfed in another hug from Anthony.

“You should come around for dinner again,” Anthony told him. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

Victor glanced at Randall, who immediately looked away, caught in the act of staring. At least he didn’t look disgusted at the thought of seeing Victor again, which was a step in the right direction. And, if Victor wanted to be bold, he might even say there was hope there, in the way Randall kept looking over at him when he thought Victor wasn’t paying attention.

“I’d like that,” Victor said to Anthony. “Let me know when you’re free.”

Then it was time to say good-bye to Randall. A dozen options ran through Victor’s mind, each of them weighed for appropriateness and whether Randall would want that response or not. He settled on gently grasping Randall’s elbow and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

There wasn’t anything he could really say that summed up everything neatly. He knew Randall wouldn’t expect to see him again, and wouldn’t believe him even if Victor tried to say otherwise. He also knew Randall didn’t think he could be with him, not right then. But Victor couldn’t bring himself to let go, even if he did have many things he needed to sort out before he saw Randall again.

So he left his good-bye silent and reluctantly pulled away from Randall. Victor said to all of them, “Have a safe flight.”

Randall was looking at the ground, feet shuffling side to side. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words escaped him. Randall finally nodded, giving Victor a brief smile and turning back toward his brothers. As Randall moved to help Edwin finish gathering all their things, Victor saw him grab his backpack and murmur to Edwin, “Hey, I forgot something. Be right back.”

“What did you forget?” Anthony said. “I can go back and get it.”

“It’s fine,” Randall assured him, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “It’ll take me two minutes. Wait for me?”

Anthony clapped Randall on the back, and Victor tried not to watch Randall go. It wouldn’t do to be creepy and stare. He looked away and stood by while the wolves and Jed strapped on the last of their bags, luggage and cat carrier in hand. Victor didn’t want to be rude and leave, so he stayed, half listening to the idle chatter in the group as they discussed what it was like to fly on an airplane.

As much as Victor had come to enjoy their company, he thought that a few days on his own might do him some good. The wolves here respected his need for privacy, and perhaps the fresh air of the mountains would help to put some things in perspective.

By the time everyone was ready to start their hike, two members of the pack going with the group to drive the van back after dropping them all off, Randall had come running back, gaze studiously avoiding Victor’s. And then there was nothing left to do but give one last round of good-byes and watch as they headed out, disappearing among the trees. A few members of the pack ran with them, all of them howling their good-byes until, at last, there was no trace of them remaining.

Victor spent the rest of the day in relative solitude, emerging from his tent only to eat dinner, after which he took a walk around the perimeter of the camp. He’d never been one to enjoy nature walks, but he’d decided to try one on a whim to see if he’d started enjoying it. He hadn’t. He still hated insects and stray rocks that he tripped over.

He forced himself to sit down and read the medusa half blood accounts, finally making it to the very end of them. Most stopped suddenly, indicating that they hadn’t continued to keep the journal after they had lost their minds. Some had attempted to continue writing, though their efforts had resulted in incoherent ramblings.

There was no way to tell if there was a pattern, since most of them stopped. It gave Victor no clues as to who their last visions had been for, and without that, forming a pattern would be impossible.

He put the last journal down with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Victor uncurled from the cross-legged position he’d been reading in. When his knee brushed against his pillow, it hit against something hard. There was a book underneath it.

Mittelalterliche Liste gefährlicher und unerkennbarer Bestien
. The medieval index that Randall had been reading in the van on the way here.

Victor picked it up and opened the cover. It was obviously well cared for, and on the front leaf was a neat, childish scrawl.
Randall Lewis, 7,
and then some very carefully printed beginner’s German.
Das ist mein Buch.
This is my book.

As Victor flipped through the book, a page of notepaper dropped out. It had been marking the section of Canos lore. Victor picked it up and found Randall’s script, messier but now somehow much more graceful than his seven-year-old self.

Victor
, it started, his name in careful loops.
I want to start out by saying thank you. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for being kind enough to stop and speak with me in the Cairo hospital. Thank you for being the one good thing out of my nightmare. I called you my Beatrice, and that is very true, but I think more than that you are also my Virgil. You have been a light during a time when I have found it very hard to see forward.

I know that this is good-bye. I know that the ending is not what I would have wished. But I just wanted to tell you that even if I had known, if I had looked into your eyes and seen this moment, I would have fallen for you anyway. Because you were something wonderful.

Thank you, for what you gave me, for the memories I now have. I feel a little bit like a medusa myself, I think. I have a part of you that will always be with me.

I hope you enjoy the book. It was one of my first in German, and it has been a favorite. And now we are even, at least so far on the book front. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for the rest.

I will miss you, my (for a little while, at least) medusa.

Randall Lewis

But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought

Save, where you are, how happy you make those.

So true a fool is love, that in your will,

Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

Victor found he was smiling as he reached the end of the note, though it was a bittersweet expression. So, Randall truly thought it was over. That shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. Victor had half known it already, and Randall had enough reason to want it to be over.

He had hoped that Randall might consider giving him another chance, but with what Randall was currently going through with his family, Victor knew he already had a lot on his mind. He was stressed, exhausted, and worried. The last thing he needed was a medusa with self-destructive tendencies.

Still, it wasn’t completely over. Victor just hoped that Randall would perhaps be willing to consider what they could have together if Victor could figure out the mess that was his mind. So he would simply have to do that.

Unfortunately, sorting out one’s mind wasn’t as clear a mission as, say, doing the dishes. There was an objective but no obvious steps, and it wasn’t something that could be done halfheartedly or forced. He couldn’t hurry the process along, and he couldn’t tidy the metaphorical dishes into the sink and pretend they were done.