by Thomas, Ian
“Sorry to hear it.” Rebecca had never wanted to pry about Rowan and her late husband. She hadn’t wanted to be ‘hi, just met you now please tell me about every trauma in your life’. Rowan hadn’t asked it of her so Rebecca decided to respect that. “So wait, the somnus messed him up that bad?” She’d moved into the kitchen to slice and toast the bagels. Engrossed in Rowan’s words, she felt they might be there awhile.
“Oh, no. He was a total psychopath beforehand. The somnus just amplified it. He woke to find his bloodline few in number and powerless. Enraged, he broke into the supermax prison and sired like a hundred new wolves from the worst our prisons had to offer. Real pillars of the community.”
“Holy shit.”
“Pretty much. Matteo and McLachlan put a stop to it. Ben too. And the War Wolves.”
“And that started the Pack War?”
“You’d think it would but no. After they left him locked up, one of his bloodline had the Pack Lord assassinated. Very Archduke Ferdinand, World War One and the rest is pretty much an unknown, undocumented history.”
“Wow,” Rebecca said, the information sinking in. Revelations aside, she could see the pain the memories were causing. Best not to pry. “Not a good wow, just…yeah.”
“I hear ya,” Rowan smiled weakly. “One phrase you’ll come to embrace is ‘so that happened’.”
Rebecca laughed. McLachlan notwithstanding, if it hadn’t been for Rowan, she would have freaked out a while back and fled town. Admittedly Rowan was a practicing witch, but here was this strong woman keeping a level head and warm heart amid this tremendously bleak chaos. Much of what she had always admired about her mother and Hayley was in Rowan.
Having refreshed their cups and started on the bagels, Rowan said. “Oh and tangents are real common.”
“You’ve met Mouth and Hayley.”
“True. So where were we? Oh right – twenty years ago, Matteo, somnus. Okay so he was anxious about the somnus, how much the world might change, and losing touch.”
“Whoa,” Rebecca said, the picture forming for her. “He totally would have. The world is so different.”
“Exactly. I don’t know how, he just had a feeling.”
“So what happened?”
Rowan sat back beaming. “He met yours truly and his life has been better every day since.” Rebecca laughed. She concurred with the statement. “Oh and that other guy? What’s his name? Starts with an M?”
“No idea,” Rebecca lied, still chuckling.
“Yeah, so now Matteo had already started pulling away from the other wolves. Not a major really. They’d all expected him to take his somnus. But then he made friends outside of the wolves and that ruffled some fur shall we say.”
“I can imagine. And Ben wouldn’t have been happy.”
“Ben’s never really been happy. Okay that’s not true. He’d just got a little quieter apparently. I had nothing to reference it against otherwise I might have seen his betrayal coming.”
“And the wolves, despite their age and because of their egos, didn’t either.”
“You are a quick study.” Rowan clinked her tea against Rebecca’s coffee. “For a while there they thought Matteo was going to sire McLachlan. Including Ben. I knew he wasn’t. God, can you imagine it? Ew.”
“Werewolf with a demon stain, just…no.”
“Agreed,” Rowan replied, her tone serious. “And that was a big part of why Matteo didn’t sire him. That and he liked having people around who weren’t wolves.”
“Speaking of that, how come Ben is Matteo’s only progeny? I mean he’s so into family. Well from what I hear. And there was the day before he got tortured. And the actual family he came from. I’m just really surprised he’d only sired one wolf.”
“Despite being Pack Lord, he’s not the greatest fan of the wolf life. He lost a lot when he lost his family. Guess that stayed with him.”
“I guess.” Rebecca wasn’t wholly convinced. She was about to say so when the door to the apartment opened.
“Supposed to be pumping tomorrow. Shed these city trappings, brah, and shred those tubes,” Michael said as he and McLachlan entered the apartment, both sweaty and carrying sports bags. The cat looked up. Disinterested, it shut its eyes and went back to sleep. “Oh, aloha ladies”
“You went to the gym?” Rowan demanded.
“Nah, had a porn shoot,” Michael replied. “’Course this is gym sweat.”
“That kinda response I’d expect from him,” Rowan said. “Not you.”
“Thanks?” McLachlan flinched.
“Stop being a bad influence on my…chael.” Rowan was still struggling with terminology. “I meant because of your back, dumbass.”
“It’s all whole and healed.”
“Oh really?” Rebecca asked.
“Yes really.” McLachlan kissed her, his sweaty musk eclipsing everything else.
“Smelly. Really smelly.”
“Row, mind if I grab a shower?” he asked.
“Sure,” she replied, awkwardly. Once he had shut the bathroom door and they heard the water turn on, Rowan looked at them both. “Since when has he called me, ‘Row’?”
“I like it,” Michael said, slipping his arms around her, but Rowan didn’t relax against him.
“There’re bagels.” Rowan broke from the embrace and sat next to Rebecca at the counter. “Daniel used to call me that.”
Shit! Mentally Rebecca called to McLachlan for him to never do it again. But she wasn’t telepathic. Later. She’d tell him later.
“He’s, uh, been doing stuff like that lately,” Rebecca said reluctantly, looking to Michael as he started fixing food in the kitchen.
“Don’t mind him,” Rowan admitted. “Gemini moon. You’d need to hit him over the head to get his attention. As good as headphones.”
“Okay.” Rebecca pretended she understood but decided to Google it later. “It’s that other life. The one the demon offered him. Sometimes there’s an overlap.”
“Oh.” Rowan was taken aback. “And being a total male, he didn’t think to say anything.”
“I hoped he would. I think with – ya know – everything this slipped is all.”
“Is it affecting you two?”
Rebecca had to think carefully about the response. As she did, Michael handed Rowan his bagel, she took a bite, and then returned her attention to Rebecca.
“Sorry.”
“No, all good,” Rebecca replied, stalling. “It’s…like that. Like Michael knowing you wanted a bite without asking. Him knowing you. Having a history with you. We have that. Rather he has that with me. Not constantly. But when he does, he’ll know more about me than I do. Then it’s gone. Like – and this sounds terrible – relationship Alzheimer’s. One minute he’s my husband, father of my children, partner for like a decade. And the next he’s new to me. And comparing it to Alzheimer’s is horrible but it was the only analogy I could think of.”
“I get ya. And so how do you feel about it?”
Rebecca paused again, then sighed heavily. “The sex is phenomenal. Like if I didn’t know about the fake life and false memories, I would’ve written thank you cards to Julie and any woman he’d ever been with. But it’s because some part of him knows me, knows my body, knows my triggers and stuff.”
“Oh dear.”
“Yeah, and at the same time, if my over-analytical brain kicks in, I get really self-conscious. Like this is our first time, he shouldn’t know which buttons to push and how to push them. And I know nothing about him.”
“With McLachlan I always assumed what you see is what you get,” Rowan said, patting her friend’s hand. “Not exactly vanilla, but hardly fifty shades.”
“So not vanilla,” Rebecca said. “Though not the point. It’s just…confusing.”
“What does Hayley say about this?” Rowan asked.
“She finds it weird too but is kinda forgiving of it. Like, for now, it hasn’t caused any problems between us or anything. And that since m
y needs are fulfilled, why the fuck would I want it to stop. End quote.”
Rowan laughed, almost hearing Hayley’s voice saying it. “I love her. If anyone is going to challenge those boneheads, it’s gonna be her. Lord knows I’ve tried.”
“With our powers combined,” Rebecca said in low voice.
“Now you’re talking.”
“Can you imagine?” Rebecca scooped up the stack of books and stood. “I’m gonna hit the library. Got lots of marking and lots of reading to do.”
“Don’t wanna stick around for Mac?” Rowan asked then saw Rebecca’s raised eyebrow. “And why would you? Okay talk later.”
When the door shut behind Rebecca, Michael turned and did a double-take at the empty stool.
“Where?”
“Disapparated,” Rowan replied. “Now go shower. I don’t have enough scented candles to get rid of sweaty wolf.” Hungrily he flashed his gold eyes at her and growled. “Shower.”
“Hey, Row,” McLachlan said, as he and Michael traded places in the bathroom. “There any more coffee?”
“Yes,” she said stonily. “One thing first?”
“Shit.” Wide-eyed, he froze. “What’d I do? And where’s Bex?”
“Gone. You bore her. No, just kidding. But…can you not call me ‘Row’?”
“Did I?”
“Twice,” she replied. “Daniel was the only one who called me that.”
“Sorry.”
“So is this another fake life thing?” she asked as he helped himself to coffee. “You know, what Mammon offered?”
He took a long sip before replying. “I think so. And sorry, I didn’t mean to bring Daniel up.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t.” Voice trembling, she accepted the hug he offered. “Just caught me off-guard.”
“As it does me. Mostly it’s just all of this personal info about everyone as they were in that life mixed in with what I know from this life. Like, say this world is this cup of coffee.”
“Sure.”
“And I’m drinking it, knowing each sip is gonna be coffee. Ya know, coffee, coffee, coffee – beer!”
“Ever think maybe you’re just an alcoholic?”
“Terrible analogy. Sorry.”
“And what do you mean ‘mostly’?”
He took a deep breath. “Okay so you know how I ran into Ben the other night and things went badly?”
“Hence the broken back.”
“Exactly. Well, the thing was for a long time on that roof I was a high school classics teacher. Not me. Not McLachlan. Not stained. Not a hunter. I forgot how to fight. All of Matteo’s training. Just went blank.”
“Okay so that’s really dangerous.”
“Hence the broken back,” he replied. “I could quote you Sophocles, run you through the Battle of Actium, give you a detailed history of Trajan’s column. Couldn’t throw a punch.”
Rowan sat up straight. “Yeah this is bad. Like – bad!”
“And there’s the weird stuff with Rebecca.”
“She’ll cope. Just check yourself at times that you’re not too familiar.”
“But–”
“No, this – this not being good in a fight – that’s supremely worse. You should’ve said something.”
“The other night was the worst of it. Otherwise it’s been minor slips, some I don’t even notice, and there’s been so much other shit going on.”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “But in our lives it doesn’t take much for minor stuff to become major.”
“Hence the broken back.”
“It could have been a lot worse.” Silently, they pondered the extent of it. “I’ll do some reading about imprinted memories. This is the first I’ve heard of it so may not amount to anything but we can still try. Look at you always so goddamn special. First, the one and only demon-stain. Now, the one and only imprinted memories. One of these days you need to be a little bit regular.”
“I’ll try.” His smile faltered as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, you think the Clan may know something?”
“They might. I was thinking about taking Rebecca up to the chapter house. Ya know let her read, ask questions, meet some non-supernatural people, make a weekend out of it. And then I can check on your…thing.”
“My thing? It’s hardly herpes.”
“I don’t know. One bad encounter and it’s stuck with you.”
“Can we not liken my demonic stain and false memories to herpes?”
“Syphillus?”
“Not an STI.”
“Much better analogy though.”
“Only just,” McLachlan replied. He toasted himself a bagel as Rowan headed into the alcove, looking at the book spines on her shelves. “Hey,” McLachlan said firmly. “So I’m kinda sick of this whole Matteo missing in action bullshit. He’s had plenty of time to lick his wounds.”
“Maaaac,” she warned, dragging his name out. “This is wolf stuff. We’re not well enough versed in their world to demand anything of him.”
“No, fuck that. We’re his friends. Friends trump fur.”
Rowan smiled at him. She’d felt the same thing for a while now, but wasn’t sure if anyone else did. Other may have, McLachlan included, but they all had something going on that Matteo’s excuses had suited them. Appeased concern, provided them enough to feel like friends though it had been lip-service to their relationships.
XXXII
Dumb.
Real dumb.
Colossally dumb.
Mentally berating himself, Jason stood outside room 1912 of The Plaza Hotel. The opulent settings making him feel very out of place.
Not that he looked it. He’d put some effort into his wardrobe choices. Settling on slim fit pants, fitted shirt, snood, beanie and heavy coat, he was very presentable.
Didn’t make him feel any more welcome.
Nervously he’d been shuffling from one foot to the other outside the door for at least five minutes. He just couldn’t bring himself to knock. He’d tried. At least twice. Hand out, knuckles at the ready, and then dropped his hand against his side.
Also he probably should’ve told someone where he was going he realized suddenly. On the rare occasion he did hook up with some random he’d let someone know where he was. With sex-on-tap apps the fear he was meeting a serial killer was high. Usually he told Mouth. After all he was the least judgmental of his friends.
But this wasn’t just any random. This was Ben. Currently considered pretty evil by most of Jason’s friends.
Telling Mouth would not have gone well. As it was he’d become super protective of Jason over the Mitch-uation. Which Jason appreciated. Even though he’d downplayed how shitty he felt, how inadequate, how invisible.
“But there’s Danny,” Mouth had said, his voice rising optimistically.
“Think that was more a pity thing,” Jason had replied baselessly. “Listen, thank you for looking out for me. You’re a good friend. I just – I guess I’m a little raw at the moment.” Which wasn’t a total lie. Just enough to get Mouth to back off while Jason went and met up with Ben. Yeah, good plan, smart move.
Danny. Mitch. John. Jason could really pick them. Not that he was doing much better sneaking out to meet Ben. His penis was doing way too much of his decision making lately. Of course it was easier to blame someone else. Be it Mitch and his stupid standards, Rowan and her cards, or his penis which had proven time and again to be unhelpful. No these had been his decisions. He needed to own them. And he needed to learn from them again.
And not let another Mitch happen.
A door opened along the corridor. He glanced over to see Ben wearing only a towel.
Mitch who?
His body seemed to be carved from marble, the soft curves of hard muscles rippling across his body. All thought and ability to make decisions abandoned him and he simply took in the figure. Square shoulders, V-silhouette, and the Adonis belt peeking above the line of his towel seemed to render Jason unable of actual thought.
; “You came,” Ben said.
“Almost,” Jason replied, then heard himself and shook his head. “I mean I almost didn’t, not that the sight of you made me – wait, that’s not nineteen-twelve?”
“Noticed that, did you?” Ben leaned against the doorframe. And boy, did he know how to lean. Jason had to guess the man’s body fat percentage was in single digits. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to run and tell the others where I was.”
“I’m more trustworthy than you think.”
“And horny apparently.” Ben stepped back from the door. “Well, come in.”
“So how’d you know I was out here? In the hall?” Jason asked, awkwardly walking past Ben into the opulent room.
“I caught your scent. Thank you for not dowsing yourself in body spray.”
“Hey, no problem.” Jason looked around at the room. Once through the entry way there was a living room beyond with a lounge suite and a writing desk. Beyond the windows he could see Central Park and the skyline uptown. Off to the right was the bedroom. He glanced a king-sized bed and wondered how comfortable it was. “So this is pretty swanky for a super villain.”
“I’m not a super villain,” Ben said flatly. “And Sarcasmo is no superhero either.”
“Sarcasmo?”
“McLachlan.”
“Sure.” Flinching, Jason hoped he hadn’t screwed up too badly. Then again, this was a very different Ben to the one in the rain-soaked alley. More assured, brash even. Coming here was definitely a big dumb mistake. “But for someone on the run, low profiling it and all, the Plaza doesn’t exactly seem low profile.”
“I have my own money, use aliases, even have proper ID as well.” Ben picked up the phone receiver and offered it to Jason. “But if you want to call McLachlan, tell him where I am, go for it. I have nothing to hide. That’s if his back’s healed.”
“But the Cult. You sold him out. And all that shit with Matteo.”
“Was not my intention.” Ben replaced the handset, his movements careful and precise. “I needed Matteo out of the way so that the Cult could have McLachlan. They weren’t to torture him. They won’t do that again.”