by TJ Klune
I hated how my eyes stung, hated how weak it made me look in front of all of them. My chest hitched as I tried to catch my breath. “I know that. But you can’t expect me to just stand aside and let you take him from me.”
Ox softened, the red and violet fading from his eyes. “I don’t expect that at all.” His lips quirked. “I think I’d have a fight on my hands.”
“Fuck yes, you would.”
“Then we’ll find another way. Gordo? Anything?”
He grimaced before shaking his head. “Nothing I could find in Thomas’s or Abel’s books. There might be something in Caswell that I missed, but I wouldn’t count on it. I can’t find any mention of a witch surviving an Alpha bite, even when magic was involved.” He rubbed the scar tissue where the raven had once been. “It’s beyond us, Ox. There’s never been anything like him.”
“He bleeds,” Ox said bluntly. “We’ve seen it. Robbie ripped out his eye. And if he bleeds, he can die.”
“I’ll look again,” Robbie said. “I know those books better than anyone here. When we go back to Caswell, I can check to make sure we haven’t missed anything.” A strange look crossed his face, but it was gone before I could be sure about what I saw. “There might be….”
“What?” Gordo asked.
Robbie shook his head. “I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know when I find out.”
“Good,” Ox said. He hesitated before turning to me. “Carter, I’m not trying to put any pressure on you, okay? Remember that when I ask what I’m about to ask.”
I hung my head. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m… working on it, okay? We both are. But you can’t force something this important. Not like this.” I wiped my eyes. “I don’t even know if he wants… this.” Me. “Would you? I mean, Christ, Ox. Why the hell would you want to attach yourself to a sinking ship?”
“I often say I don’t have idiots for sons, so don’t you dare try and prove me wrong now, even if there’s already enough evidence of that.”
I jerked my head up.
My mother glared at me, her eyes orange.
“Mom, I—”
“Stop,” she snapped. “It’s my turn to talk, do you understand? I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth until I’ve had my say.”
“Uh-oh,” Kelly breathed. “Warpath.”
“Shut up,” Joe hissed at him. “She’ll hear you!”
“We can all hear you,” Mark said.
Mom ignored them. She only had eyes for me. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t.
She said, “That man out there. That wonderful man followed you for years. He put himself between you and harm’s way time and time again. And when he thought his father was going to take you away from him, when you were screaming as Livingstone’s magic was pouring into you, he made his choice. He found it within himself to crawl from the depths of whatever feral hell he was in. For you, Carter. How are you so blind to that? I know he’s not what you expected. I know you never thought about one such as him—”
“I don’t care about that.”
Her eyes blazed. “Then it’s time you pulled your head from your ass and got your shit together.”
“Whoa,” Kelly whispered.
“Hard-core,” Joe whispered back.
My mother’s eyes faded from orange to blue as she took my face in her hands. “I wish things could be different. I wish you had all the time in the world. And if I’d….” She shook her head. “If I’d done my job as your mother, you might have understood what it meant sooner. And I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry that you find yourself in this position now. But don’t ever doubt what Gavin Walsh feels for you. Everything he’s done has been for you. Carter, can’t you see? He loves you. So much so that he was willing to sacrifice himself in Caswell just to keep you safe. He chose you over his father. It’s why he left with him. Not because he wanted to. But because he thought it would mean Livingstone could never touch you again.”
“Mom,” I croaked out.
“You deserve this,” she said quietly. “Him. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better for you. We’ll deal with Livingstone. One way or another. Gavin’s not going anywhere.” She raised her voice. “Do you all hear me? He’s not going anywhere. And if I hear anyone saying otherwise, you’re going to answer to me. Ox is right. Livingstone bleeds. Which means he can die. And we’re going to be the ones to kill him.”
I WENT OUT ONTO THE PORCH. Bambi and Jessie stopped talking and looked over at me.
“Uh-oh,” Jessie said. “That bad?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing at all. I walked down the steps. Chris and Tanner were bent over the truck, the hood propped up. Gavin was between them, and they were telling him about spark plugs and alternators, pistons and crankshafts. He nodded along as Rico watched over them, looking oddly proud.
Gavin stiffened and turned around as Chris and Tanner trailed off. He looked at me, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“C’mere.”
He did. He had oil under his fingernails. He looked like he belonged with them. “What happened?” he asked. “Bad stuff?”
“No. Don’t worry about it. We’re figuring it out.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not. I promise. Just….”
I did the only thing I could.
I hugged him.
He grunted as if surprised, his arms dangling at his sides.
And then he hugged me back.
“Carter?” he whispered, his cheek against mine.
“It’s fine,” I said as the guys watched us. “It’ll be okay.”
“Be okay,” he echoed, and I closed my eyes.
IT WAS FRIDAY WHEN HE ASKED.
Christmas Eve.
The moon was fading, though I could still feel its pull.
We were sitting in the living room. Kelly and Joe had cut down a tree in the woods behind the house, a Douglas fir we’d covered in lights and ornaments. I was showing Gavin the little baubles my brothers and I had made as kids, clay handprints and torn paper snowflakes covered in old glitter. Kelly and Joe were in the attic, trying to get the last of the decorations. Gordo sat on the couch, nursing a beer, watching us.
Gavin said, “You made these.”
“Yeah, man. We did. Not very good, I know, but I’m not exactly the creative type. Joe and Kelly were better at stuff like that, even if Joe tended to eat the glue.”
“I was three!” Joe shouted from somewhere above us.
“And now he’s the Alpha of all,” Gordo muttered. “We’re doomed.”
Gavin looked down at the box in his lap. He was sitting on the floor next to me, his knee pressed against mine. He was wearing his pink sweater again. It was his favorite. He looked younger than he had since I’d known him. He’d told me he was thirty-two, which put him less than a year older than me, but now that he’d cleaned up, he could pass for years younger.
He said, “Here? You made these here?”
I nodded. “And in Caswell.”
“When you had to go back.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at Gordo. “Though had to is probably a little strong.”
“Why?”
“Questions,” I muttered as Gordo snorted. “Always questions with you.”
“Ha, ha,” Gavin said. “Answer me.”
I sighed. “Dad was… young when he was made Alpha. His father was murdered, along with most of his pack. Hunters.”
“Ouroboros,” Gordo said, voice hard.
“What’s that?” Gavin asked.
“Snake eating its own tail. Ancient symbol. Supposed to represent infinity.”
I said, “They told him he needed to go back to Caswell. That he was the Alpha of all and that people were depending on him.”
“He left,” Gavin said. “Took all of you.”
“Not all,” I said. “And that wasn’t right.” Gordo’s hand tightened on his beer bottle. “I wasn’t old enough to understand.
To do anything about it. But I know now what my father didn’t, even though he thought he was doing the right thing. We don’t leave pack behind. Ever.”
“Ever,” Gavin repeated. “Because pack pack pack.”
“Yeah. Pack pack pack.”
“Why not just stay here?” he asked. “Or bring Caswell here? Why in two different places?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Easier, right? All wolves and witches in one place. Everyone now spread out. All over. Far away.”
I didn’t know how to answer.
Thankfully, Gordo did. “You know Caswell. You know Green Creek. Can you tell the difference?”
Gavin frowned before nodding slowly. “Caswell is… strong. Wolves. Witches. Territory is old. Many wolves been there. Could feel them. In the earth. Many different bloodlines.”
Gordo sat forward, dangling the bottle between his legs. Mark appeared in the doorway, but he didn’t speak, his gaze on Gordo. “And here?”
Gavin thought hard. “Big,” he said finally. “Bigger. Wild. More. Territory is stronger. Older. Powerful. All the same, though. All Bennetts.”
“Yeah,” Gordo said. “All Bennetts. In Caswell they’ve had the Alpha of all going back hundreds of years. For a long time, it had nothing to do with the Bennetts. It wasn’t until Abel’s grandfather that it landed in Bennett hands. They divided their time between here and Caswell, though back then it took a hell of a lot longer to cross the country. I… read. In all those old books. The history is there for anyone who wants to see it. Wolves and witches and hunters, always fighting. The Bennetts. The Livingstones. The Kings. Three families, all intertwined.” He grunted. “Still pretty queer, though, as far as I could tell. How the lines didn’t die out by now, I have no idea.”
Gavin nodded. “Secret. This was a secret place.”
Gordo hesitated. “Not exactly. More like it was… well. I don’t like putting it this way, given my history with people who use religion as a weapon, but Green Creek was considered almost holy. And the Bennetts protected it fiercely.”
Gavin watched him for a long moment. Then, “He’s your father too.”
“He is. But he wasn’t my dad. I had my grandfather for that. And then Marty, the guy who owned the shop before I did.”
“Both gone,” Gavin said.
“Yeah. Both gone.”
“Your mom?”
“A victim,” he said. “Livingstone messed with her head. Used his magic to control her. I don’t know how long it’d been going on for. Maybe as long as he knew her. But it fucked with her, in the end.” He winced. “I think it’s why she did what she did.”
“To my mom.”
“Yeah.”
Gavin gnawed on his bottom lip. “A tree.”
Gordo arched an eyebrow. “What? What tree?”
“Family tree,” Gavin said. “Grows together. Bennetts. Livingstones. Kings. Twisted. Stuck. We’re in Bennett tree too even though you’re Livingstone. I’m Walsh.”
Mark was smiling as if he could see where Gavin was going with this. I wouldn’t put it past him. He had insights into people I never could. The raven on his throat bobbed up and down, almost like it was alive.
“I guess we are,” Gordo said. He snorted. “Though if you’d told me that years ago, I would have probably lit you on fire.”
“Limbs,” Gavin said, unperturbed by Gordo’s threat. “Trees have limbs. Sometimes get sick. Diseased. To save the tree, you cut off limb. It recovers. Grows healthy. New life.”
Gordo had a look of awe on his face. “Damn. I… yeah. I guess that’s right.”
Gavin nodded. “You’re Livingstone. But also Bennett. You stay in tree. You’re not diseased.”
“Gee, thanks. I think. But you know that means you are too, right?”
“Sick,” Gavin muttered. “Omega. Not Bennett. Not Livingstone. Walsh.”
“You’re not—”
“Will you show me?”
Gordo blinked. “Show you what?”
Gavin looked at me before turning back to his brother. “Where they died.”
SHE’D LIVED NEAR A PARK in the next town over.
She’d been a librarian.
She had a dog named Milo.
She smiled a lot, Gordo said. And laughed loudly.
She didn’t know about witches. About wolves.
And one day she’d disappeared for a long while. When she came back, she wasn’t the same. Nothing was.
“It’s okay,” Mark said as we sat in the truck, watching Gavin and Gordo walk toward a little park with benches and a playground. The equipment was mostly empty. A few kids played on the swings and the monkey bars, their parents sipping from travel mugs as they watched. “Gordo has this.”
“I know,” I muttered, trying to resist the urge to get out of the truck and run after them. Mark took my hand in his, holding me in place. I didn’t know if I was grateful or irritated. Both, probably. “I just worry.”
“Of course you do,” Mark said. “You were too young to remember what happened here.” He pointed out the windshield toward the park. Toward the houses around it. “I came here after. I needed to see for myself. They said it was a gas main explosion. This entire block was gone. Leveled completely. It was still smoldering when I came. People were digging through the rubble.”
“Wendy was already dead.”
Mark nodded solemnly. “Livingstone was too late to save her. Gordo’s mother just… cracked.”
“How did you all not see it? How could you just let it go on? You were probably too young, but Dad? Grandad? They had to know something was wrong.”
“Maybe,” Mark said. “I know there were times they were sealed away in the office, and even though it was soundproofed back then too, I swore I could still feel the vibrations through the walls and floors as they raged at each other. But Gordo was right. His mother was a victim in all of this. As was Gavin’s mother and all the people who died here when Livingstone came.”
Gavin’s shoulders were hunched, his head bowed as Gordo took him by the elbow, leading him farther into the park.
“Why doesn’t he hate Gavin?” I asked.
Mark shrugged. “I think he did. At least at first, though maybe hate is too strong of a word. Resented? He was shocked. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to think you’re alone only to find out that someone existed who could understand.”
“Did you talk to him? I’ll be honest. I fully expected Gordo to act like an asshole if I ever found Gavin and brought him back.”
My uncle laughed. “I don’t blame you for that. He is an asshole. It’s like armor to him. You see through it eventually. But he was one of the first to put plans together to go after the both of you. He and Kelly and Joe.”
“For Gavin.”
He shook his head. “Both of you. You have to know that. Of course he would come after you. For so long he had nothing. And when we came back to Green Creek, he convinced himself he wanted nothing to do with us. I don’t blame him for that.”
“You blamed my dad.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. I guess I did. I loved your father. But our relationship was… complicated.”
“That sounds like an understatement.”
He said, “I suppose it does. But you can love someone and hate them all at the same time, so long as you don’t allow hate to rise up and smother everything else. That’s the difference between us and someone like Livingstone. I believe he truly does love Gavin. Gordo. Robbie too, in his own way. But he’s allowed his hatred to overwhelm him. It’s blinded him. Rage often does when it’s all you know.” Then, “It was Robbie who got through to Gordo about his brother.”
My eyes widened. “Really?”
Mark nodded. “After we found out about Gavin, Robbie took Gordo away for a couple of hours. Gordo was fuming. When they came back, he was… resigned. Which is better than being pissed off at a feral wolf, I guess. I don’t know what they talked about, but whatever Robbie said
, Gordo listened.”
“Whoa.”
“Whoa,” Mark agreed. “That armor Gordo has, he wore it for so long that he forgot how to take it off. We had to crack it, piece by piece. And it wasn’t just me. It was all of us. We were there to remind him that he didn’t have to be alone. I loved your father, Carter. I loved him more than almost anything else in the world. Which is why I hated him too. Because it hurt me. He hurt me. I could never be an Alpha. Can you imagine what that must be like? Having to make choices like that. Ox and Joe, they’re stronger than I could ever be. It seems so thankless.”
Gavin and Gordo were on the opposite side of the park. Their heads were bowed so close together, they were almost touching. Gordo’s lips moved, and if I tried hard enough, I probably could have picked up what he was saying. But it wasn’t for me. I glanced at Mark. “He loved you too.”
Mark hummed a little under his breath. “I know. We found our way back to each other in the end. Brothers often do.” He blinked rapidly. “I just wish… I don’t know. That I had one more moment with him. To tell him I loved him. He knew. We didn’t say it much, but I tell myself he knew in the end.”
“He’s still here,” I whispered.
Mark took his hand away from mine and wrapped it around the back of my neck. He pressed his forehead against my ear. The pack bond between us vibrated. It was stronger now. “I think so too,” he said.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Mark said. “Maybe his work isn’t quite finished.” He chuckled. “Or maybe he’s just a stubborn asshole Alpha who doesn’t know how to let things go.”
It wasn’t just him. I remembered the woman. Madam Penelope. And Robbie telling us of his visions in Caswell. How he’d seen other wolves aside from Joe and Ox. Mom’s dream of Dad, and how she’d woken up with her stone wolf in her hand, though she’d buried it long before.
Snow began to drift down from the sky. It was nothing more than flurries, small flakes that spun around in the air. “He’d have liked Gavin.”