Inside Straight

Home > Other > Inside Straight > Page 8
Inside Straight Page 8

by Mark Henwick

Heaven help me. Give me a weapon and people shooting at me every time.

  To say the evening started slowly would be an understatement.

  We came bearing gifts which Jen and Alex had somehow found time to buy, probably during my lost hours in fairyland. They went into a pile in the corner of the hall. Mom’s rules: strictly to be opened after dinner. After depositing them and leaving our coats, we went into the living room. We were standing because there weren’t enough seats.

  John offered us soft drinks and Kath stared at the floor, knowing we were going without alcohol because of her. The family knew. I wanted to say something. Whatever she’d done, she was my little sister, and it hurt to see her hurting.

  But the five paces between us felt like five miles.

  Baby steps, Alex and Jen and I had agreed.

  Mom saw the rings immediately, of course. Her gaze shot from my hand to Alex’s, and her eyes widened in delight. Then she looked at Jen’s hand. Her face fell and she quickly made an excuse about the sauce needing attention and rushed out to the kitchen.

  Great start. Freaking A.

  Well, it was bound to be a shock, even though she knew I was in a relationship with both of them. I just hoped she could manage to adjust.

  I turned my attention to the others.

  I hadn’t actively disliked Taylor when I first met him; he’d just seemed a bit bloodless. Strange description for an Athanate to use, but it fit. That day last fall, talking about their engagement, he hadn’t said he was in love with Kath, but that they’d become ‘very close’. It just sounded so wrong to me, so weak, so... bloodless. Yet here he was, committing career suicide by taking time off to look after her.

  Maybe I’d been too quick to judge.

  He turned out to be the easiest to get talking and break the ice before we suffocated: Jen was a patron of the Denver ballet and Taylor loved the ballet. He was a little in awe of Jen. Kath stayed beside him and Jen spoke easily to both of them, talking about seeing the ballet in New York, comparing it to our own in Denver.

  John succumbed next. We’d arrived in my Audi today, but John knew about Alex’s little old Ford: the Mustang; a ’69 Boss in Black Jade. They got talking about all the problems of keeping a classic in its original glory.

  It was a cool car.

  Mom came back from the kitchen, eyes a little shiny.

  “Lovely rings, Amber,” she said quietly, and then beamed a big smile around the room. “I think we’re ready. Let’s sit at the table. Kath, would you give me a hand, please?”

  Alex charmed Mom at dinner, talking about all the local history he’d researched. Jen spoke knowledgably to John about the business he was in.

  Kath wasn’t talking. Her eyes seemed dull.

  That left me with Taylor.

  I’d threatened him, the same as I’d threatened Kath, to keep out of my way and not even talk to me. Now I needed erase all that and start again, using nothing but words.

  “So, ah, Taylor. What do you think of Union Station now? Isn’t it great?”

  “Yes. I guess so. It needed something. For tourists and so on.”

  “And what they’re doing to RiNo!” I burbled on, mindlessly. “Bound to lift the value of property all over Denver.”

  Shit. Taylor and Kath rented. How had I forgotten that?

  I saw Kath grimace, but she still said nothing. She ate slowly, mostly looking down at her plate.

  I plowed on, feeling worse every minute. I told the story about the couple that had both hired investigators to check whether the other was being unfaithful, only to find that the two supposed ‘lovers’ were each other’s investigators.

  That bombed.

  I tried to get Kath involved, but she let every opportunity slide by her.

  Until dessert and the conversations had paused for a moment.

  “What do the rings mean?” she asked abruptly.

  Head on, as usual.

  “Symbols that we’re in love and we’re committed to each other,” I replied. “All three of us.”

  She wasn’t looking at me; she was looking at her own engagement ring which Taylor had produced that day I’d first met him. There had been talk of a spring wedding, but Mom would have made sure I knew of any date that had been set. Nothing had been said.

  I bit my lip.

  Trouble between Kath and Taylor?

  Or just Kath?

  “All three. Really?” she said.

  “It’s what works for us.” Jen’s voice was cool and firm.

  “I’m sure it is.” Mom. Meaning she hadn’t a clue, but didn’t want an argument.

  “Not looking good for the Broncos,” John said into the silence.

  I knew they’d just been trampled by the Buffalo Bills and they’d need to win a wild card just to get into the playoffs, but that was the extent of it. I hadn’t seen a single game this season and I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “Need a quarterback who can actually play quarterback,” Alex said with a snort, and they picked the conversation up again. Kath went back to her food.

  I breathed out quietly.

  A few minutes later, Jen mentioned to Taylor that she was looking for a couple of lawyers from outside her company to do an independent analysis of some of the standard legal templates, given the increased size of the company and the latest legislation.

  Contract work, flexible arrangements. Could work from home.

  Taylor pursed his mouth and said it sounded interesting. He glanced at Kath, who showed no sign of hearing.

  “I’ll have to get back to you,” he said.

  Mom was about to suggest coffee when the doorbell rang, startling her.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That’ll be for me.”

  That went down like the proverbial lead balloon.

  Yelena had my cell and strict instructions to interrupt only in emergencies.

  Or a call from Tullah.

  I rushed to open the door and breathe cool, fresh air that didn’t taste of tension.

  I could feel Mom’s eyes, like lasers burning into the back of my head, through me and right through Yelena.

  “Ouch,” Yelena said, speaking very quietly, but letting her accent bubble up. “Mother of beast, is also beast. Is old Ukrainian saying.”

  “Bullshit,” I said, trying not to laugh despite everything. “Give.”

  “David says message from Matt. He will call, maybe with Tullah.” She checked her watch. “In five minutes.”

  Staying out here was not going to be popular, and risked undoing even the little I’d achieved tonight, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity to talk to Tullah.

  I closed the door behind me and we stood waiting, watching the time tick down on my cell.

  “Anything else?”

  “Diana arrived at Haven with Adept Emerson half an hour ago,” Yelena said. “Bian sent a text. No other information yet.”

  Oh, to be a fly on that wall when they’d arrived.

  “I spoke to the pretty boys as well. Nothing from the Hecate since we left RiNo.”

  I had a feeling she’d probably called Flint and Kane pretty boys to their faces. And they’d liked it.

  “Also, Scott, Amanda, Tove all asleep,” she finished.

  Pia had used pheromone-based pacifics to sedate Tove, and protect her from the onset of withdrawal symptoms.

  Yes. I also need to decide what to do with Tove. Another urgent situation.

  The cell beeped. Unknown caller.

  “Tullah?”

  “It’s me, Boss.” Matt’s voice, speaking hurriedly. “Please don’t talk, just listen, this connection will cut off if it detects tracking. They’re getting better trackers on the web, and I only have a few seconds. Tullah got your message and she’s heading back to Denver on her own. They were getting too close anyway, even with this cool spell hiding us. She says she should be okay, traveling alone. I hope she’s right. Should be there in a few days. We may try a diversion. I may be able to get some better explanation throug
h to you. Don’t be too hard on her—”

  The connection cut abruptly.

  “Damn.”

  We stood looking at the cell as if the call might suddenly come back to life, but there was nothing.

  Mom opened the door.

  “Amber,” she said. It was all she needed to say. What it meant was: why was I being rude, had she brought me up this way, and did I realize what disappointment I was to her?

  “Nothing to do now. Enjoy the rest of meal,” Yelena said. Her eyes slid past me briefly, and then she turned on her heel and walked back to the car.

  I turned back.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. One of our younger colleagues is travelling alone and we’ve lost contact with her. We’re very worried.”

  She frowned, looking over my shoulder.

  I imagined what it looked like to Mom: Yelena would have passed as the grim reaper in skin-tight leather.

  “I don’t like that woman,” Mom said as I went back into the house. “I don’t think you should employ her. There must be more professional people in security who would be far better. It’s not as if the Kingslund Group are some seedy clubs in the—”

  “No, Mom. It’s not the Kingslund Group any more. It’s Altau Holdings, including the Kingslund Group. And I love Yelena.”

  Mom’s eyes widened.

  “Not like that,” I said.

  “Thank goodness,” she muttered as we returned to the dining room.

  An image rose in my mind of me explaining to Mom that Yelena and I bit each other in the neck and really enjoyed it.

  It was almost enough to make me laugh. Or cry.

  That was nothing compared to what waited for me at table.

  Kath had cleared the dessert plates and was bringing out the cups for coffee.

  “It’ll never change, will it?” She glared at me. “Always something more important than the family.”

  She might as well have been a different person from earlier. She stood straight and held her head up defiantly for the first time that evening. She looked energized.

  “Kathleen,” Mom tried to stop her.

  Taylor touched her arm.

  She ignored them.

  “We’ve got two of Denver’s business leaders at table, but it’s the ‘security chief’ who has to take the call in the middle of dinner.”

  “That’s not unusual at all,” Jen said.

  Kath ignored her as well.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t stay down in LA. That’s the sort of place you fit in, isn’t it?”

  It made me angry enough that my wolf woke up and took notice.

  I took a deep breath. Brandy. Seemed fair enough, given it was in the cake that Mom had made. But...

  Oh, crap.

  “Mom,” I said quietly. “What did you do with the rest of the brandy after you finished baking?”

  She didn’t move. It was John who darted back into the kitchen, only to return with the empty bottle.

  “Oh, Kath.” Mom’s voice was full of pain.

  “Don’t you dare fucking judge me, any of you.” Suddenly Kath was screaming. “You have no idea.”

  Taylor stood. “Calm down,” he said. Like that ever worked.

  “Your fault!” She pointed at me. “Everything people expected from you! When you left us, I had to pick it all up. You never came back.”

  Taylor took her arm, tried to pull her back down to her seat.

  “Get your hands off me. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me,” he said. “You’re not yourself.”

  “Not myself? Who else could I be, asshole? What’s wrong with you that you want this shit?”

  She slumped back down on her chair. “You never came back,” she said again, and then she dissolved into tears.

  Taylor and John worked together to take her out to the car while Jen and I tried to comfort Mom, who was in tears as well.

  Jen looked up at me, and I knew what she was thinking.

  I gritted my teeth and ran out. This was the last thing I wanted, but if I didn’t do it now, I’d never do it.

  Kath was sitting silently in the passenger seat. Taylor was walking quickly to the driver’s side. John tried to stop me, but I pushed through and opened Kath’s door.

  “You said I never really came back.” I had to throttle that anger and force the words out. “Okay. I’ll give you that, Kath, and I’m sorry. Now, I’m trying, I’m really trying to be back. For you.”

  She wouldn’t look at me.

  “I can’t stop being different than the person who left Denver after school,” I went on. “You’ve changed too. But can we start again? Can we try? Please? Put everything in the last couple of years aside?”

  Taylor got in and slammed his door.

  I wondered how long he’d stay after tonight. Kath would need someone.

  She didn’t respond, but I knew she’d heard me. She looked confused.

  I closed the door gently and Taylor drove them away.

  Shit.

  “You’re not the kind who gives up because the going gets tough,” Jen said.

  We’d left the house immediately afterwards. No opening of presents. Tearful, silent farewells and unspoken recriminations.

  Merry Christmas.

  I sighed. “What is it the shrinks say? You can make people better, but first they need to want to be better. I’m not sure she wants to be better.”

  I felt drained.

  Everyone had agreed this was the way to do it, but I was looking at the size of the task and doubting myself.

  Did I have the strength? The time? With everything else that was happening, could I really give Kath the attention she needed?

  Or was it already too late?

  Chapter 11

  After Christmas Eve, Christmas Day wasn’t the disaster that I feared.

  I’d had no time to buy presents. It didn’t seem a good omen to have nothing for anyone in my House on the first Christmas we’d spent together, but that was without reckoning with Pia. Even the late arrivals, House Lloyd and Tove, got some presents, from ‘me’, thanks to her.

  How? I didn’t want to ask.

  The next bonus was a terse text from Bian—Merry Christmas, Round-eye. Enjoy the day with your House & family. Sleep in tomorrow and then come out here in the evening. Not before.

  So, instead of apologies all around and a mad dash out to Haven, I got to wrap up in a bathrobe, sit in the living room, wander in and out of the kitchen, cook and share breakfasts with everyone, drink coffee, open presents, give and take lots of hugs and kisses.

  Everybody was around at some stage in the morning except Scott.

  Pia told me he’d woken briefly in the early hours, showered and shaved, eaten a meal, neatly hand-written me a lovely letter of thanks and was fast asleep again. Pia and Amanda were taking turns checking on him every hour and all they had to report was that his vital signs were good and he was dreaming vividly.

  We still didn’t know whether the infusion had worked, but it had certainly kick-started his body again. Dreams were a common symptom of crusis, as was prolonged sleep. Pia said she thought it was going well, but couldn’t point to any specific reason for her optimism.

  David had managed to get another message to Matt and received one back—Problems. Empire putting a lot into tracking. She’s on her way. She’ll call if she can.

  You could read too much into text messages. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s day, so I pushed it to the back of my mind, where it stuck like a small, dark cloud on the horizon. David and I kept our cell phones on. David posted another couple of requests for more information on DarkNet boards where Matt would look, if he felt it was safe.

  At about 10:30, Pia’s kin—Gary and Leon, the redheaded twins, and Irene—chased everyone out of the kitchen and announced that they were taking over the cooking of the Christmas dinner, and since we’d made such pigs of ourselves over breakfast, and hadn’t got the turkey on early enough, we wouldn’t be eating
until late afternoon.

  Back in the living room, the rest of my House sprawled over the furniture and floor.

  Welcoming Amanda’s two Adept kin had become something of an event. In the middle of the room, and urged on by Dominé and Vera, of course, Jofranka and Dante were experimenting on Flint and Kane, braiding their long, thick hair in different styles.

  For some reason this had required the girls to take the guys’ shirts off, and that revealed both of the boys had tattoos on their chests—their spirit guides, naturally.

  Flint’s raven went shoulder to shoulder, intricately styled, with silky feathers and a gleam in its eye that captured that mystic knowing look of the Raven from Native American mythology.

  And on Kane’s chest—the trickster Coyote, lean and quick, laughing at the chaos that followed him.

  Very fitting. Both of them.

  It also seemed the level of detail and artistry required that young Jofranka and Dante trace the tattoos’ lines out with fingers. There might have been some flirting going on.

  And then their tattoos had gotten Savannah interested, so she was sitting with them on the floor displaying her own ink—an unique blend of Native American totems and Celtic spirals wound around each other, down her arms and across her belly.

  Flint and Kane found them fascinating, also tracing out the loops and swirls on her skin with their fingertips.

  There was a lot of flirting going on.

  I looked at Amanda, concerned about her reaction to the byplay with her new kin.

  But House Lloyd was a mature Athanate and secure in her bonding. She smiled indulgently at them and returned her attention to Savannah’s younger brother Claude, who was sitting talking to her.

  I’d inherited Savannah and Claude the last time someone had approached me for sanctuary. That had been Larry Dixon, from New Mexico, before the last, ill-fated Assembly had been held in Haven. Larry had been killed by Basilikos, but that didn’t affect my Athanate obligation to his kin once I’d agreed to his request. Savannah had been the last surviving one I’d rescued in Albuquerque, and I sort-of adopted her kid brother because, although he wasn’t kin and hadn’t been bitten or bound, he was in danger and he knew way too much about the Athanate.

  They’d both been difficult to fit into the House. Savannah partly because she had to work through her grief at Larry’s death, and partly because she was socially awkward. And Claude because he was young and awkward and difficult to get to open up.

 

‹ Prev