Acceptance

by Grace R. Duncan

  “Very good, sir,” the desk clerk said without even batting an eye. Quincy figured that had something to do with the fact that they were booked in one of the larger suites and under the Archer Enterprises account. Considering all they were going through, he had no qualms charging this little venture to the company—and, thus, his father. Quincy had put out enough money while on the run. The company could more than afford it. “And how many keys would you like?”

  “Four, please. There are two more in our suite.”

  In only a few moments, Quincy got the keys, signed them in, and handed one of the keycards over to Miles. “We’ll find the other two, go up, and figure things out when we’re settled.”

  Chad had finally found the garage apparently, and Jamie waited for them by the door. A couple of minutes later, Chad joined them. “I’m not exactly a fan of New York yet,” Chad said, shaking his head.

  Quincy laughed. “There’s a reason I like Pittsburgh. New York’s too big. Here.” He handed keys over, then led them to the elevator. He noticed Jamie fidget a few times and wondered about it until he leaned in and whispered to Chad.

  “I really don’t belong here.”

  It just went to show how uncomfortable Jamie was, if he spoke out loud—even in a whisper—instead of communicating telepathically to his mate. Quincy turned around and sniffed, then answered before Chad could speak. “You absolutely do. Do you know why?”

  Jamie blinked at him, cheeks red. “Uh… why?”

  “Because anyone belongs at the Plaza who wants to be at the Plaza. People come from all over to see this place. You’re a registered guest just like anyone else. It doesn’t matter one bit who’s paying for it. I’d bet half my biggest bank account a large number of people who stay here don’t pay for it themselves either.”

  Jamie stared at him for another moment. “Kind of hard to argue with that.”

  Chad snickered. “I’m going to have to remember that.”

  Jamie elbowed him, scowling.

  Chad winced. “Sorry, baby.” He kissed Jamie’s temple.

  “Uh-huh.” Jamie shook his head but took a breath and looked a bit better. “Thanks, Q.”

  Quincy waved it off as they stepped out of the elevator. “Let’s just get settled. Six hours on the road drives me nuts.”

  He couldn’t resist watching them walk around the suite, looking at everything. He’d stayed there a few times himself, so he’d already seen the classical furnishings and decor.

  Once the bellhop had delivered their luggage, left, and they’d sorted it out, Quincy went straight for the wet bar. He started with the Chivas, then moved on to the Grey Goose. Miles watched in amusement, and Quincy sniffed, ignoring the expression on his mate’s face, then finished the Grey Goose and tossed the empty bottle in the garbage. “Six hours cooped up with three dogs.”

  Miles threw his head back and laughed. “I can see that prompting a wet bar raid.” He chuckled and pulled Quincy close. “Sorry we’re so onerous.”

  Quincy rolled his eyes. “Okay. Two dogs and a wolf.”

  “I heard that!” Chad called from his and Jamie’s bedroom.

  Quincy laughed, feeling a lot better all of a sudden. He had friends with him, friends who were more than capable of watching his back, helping him, and who wanted to be there because they liked him, not because they had to be. He was still getting used to the idea that he wasn’t alone.

  He took a deep breath, grabbed a bottle of Grand Marnier, and called, “How about we work on the next step?”

  AFTER USING his proxies again to call his father’s office through the Internet to make sure his father was in, Quincy and Chad decided to have one of the wolves deliver a message directly, in public. Still concerned about the possibility of being intercepted—there was always the chance someone in his father’s office was watching him, even if there were only a couple other cats working for him—Quincy decided to keep it simple.

  In town. Let’s meet.—Q

  He paced the hotel room, nervous as all hell, until he heard from Jamie. As soon as his cell rang, Quincy snatched it up. “Hello?”

  “Got the reply. He didn’t seem surprised to find a couple of wolves in his office.”

  “My father’s poker face makes mine look amateurish.”

  “Wow. And I wouldn’t play poker with you for all the ham bones in the world. Okay,” Jamie said, chuckling when Quincy laughed. “Anyway, he wrote a reply right away. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Don’t get in the elevator alone. Or the stairs.”

  “No worries. There’s a crowd waiting.”

  “Good. See you soon.”

  It took less time than Quincy expected for them to be at the door. Either that or he’d made more laps around the living room than he realized.

  “Either he needs a good dose of catnip or you need to fuck him into the mattress, dude,” Chad said as they stepped in.

  Quincy rolled his eyes, too anxious to even rise to the bait.

  Chad raised his eyebrows, likely at the lack of response, but handed over the piece of paper. Apparently, his father was being just as cautious.

  Will arrange something. Don’t forget your duty to your ancestors.

  “What’s your duty to your ancestors?” Chad asked, looking over Quincy’s shoulder.

  “Tomorrow is the Beautiful Festival of the Valley,” Quincy muttered. “It used to be held over twelve days, but that’s been brought down to one.”

  “Uh… what is it?”

  Quincy shook his head. “Sorry. We’re supposed to spend the day at the cemetery, sharing a meal with the spirits of our dead relatives. Usually it’s a day-long affair. They have catering bring in a buffet, and each of the families comes from all over the region. There are prayers, of course, and it’s also a chance to see cats you don’t get to see other times. I can’t actually go tomorrow, not the way I should. But I’m guessing my father will find a way to get me a message there.” He sighed. “Something more is going on. He suspects something, or he’d be more direct. Shit.”

  Miles came up and wrapped his arms around Quincy. “Isn’t this good, though? That it’s probably not him?”

  Quincy frowned. “Yeah. But then… I’ve been accusing him for months. What—”

  “Hey,” Jamie interrupted. “Hey, he hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to find out for you or let you know he was looking, has he?”

  “Well, no.”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Chad said. “And are you telling me he couldn’t have traveled to Pittsburgh himself to see you? Talk to you? Find out what was going on?”

  Quincy sighed. “No.”

  “No,” Miles said, nodding. “Maybe this isn’t him—or all him—but he’s hardly blameless.”

  Quincy swallowed, turned around, and buried his face in Miles’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, then stepped back. “You’re right. All of you.” He frowned. “Okay, then. Obviously we’ve got to get to the cemetery tomorrow.”

  “Is it far?” Chad asked.

  “No.” Quincy shook his head. “But we need to figure out where to park, what to do, and how to otherwise stay out of sight.”

  “Let’s bring up the map on Google and go from there, hmm?”

  “Right,” Quincy said, grabbing his laptop and setting up at the table.

  “Could we get some coffee for this? I have a feeling we’ll be working on it for a while,” Jamie asked.

  Quincy pointed to the table sitting under the mounted LCD TV. “It’s on the iPad. Order whatever. It goes to the room.”

  “Thanks,” Jamie said, crossing the room.

  “Hey! Get a burger. I’m starving,” Chad called.

  “You’re always starving,” Jamie said with a snicker.

  Quincy grinned and opened his browser. “Just don’t empty the hotel kitchen. I want food too. See what they have in fish. Now, let’s see….”

  AS QUINCY expected, the normal access road into the cemetery was clogged with vehicles. Natural forest bordered t
he private cemetery the pride owned on three sides. Quincy would be able to approach and watch from a distance, and with the population of cats there that day, he was pretty confident no one would pick up an extra cat’s scent. No matter how faint the cats’ scents normally were, he knew they wouldn’t disguise their scent for something like this. But with so many, Quincy didn’t worry about himself.

  Wolves, however, were a different problem. He’d had Jamie and Chad put on extra cologne so their wolf scent wouldn’t be automatically recognizable. They were also sticking to the downwind side of the cemetery. They’d keep an eye out for Dumber, since they hadn’t seen Dee and Dumb and wouldn’t recognize them, and just be ready should they be needed for anything—like a weapon or a fast set of wheels. The Challenger was parked in the shadows at the edge of the forest.

  Miles, however, was not wearing extra cologne. Quincy had wanted him to stay back at the hotel, but Miles had flatly refused. In truth, Quincy was glad Miles had insisted. He had no idea what it was going to be like to watch this from a distance. So his mate was at his side.

  And pretty much covered in his scent. He’d marked Miles everywhere he could possibly manage it. Apparently he’d managed so well, Chad declared he stank of cat. Quincy had grinned… and rubbed his face along Miles’s shoulder again. Chad had snorted, made a comment about jealous mates, and proceeded to grab and kiss Jamie to within an inch of his life.

  Quincy and Miles crouched on a small hill overlooking Quincy’s family crypt. On one end of the cemetery, a tent had been set up with a buffet and tables. Several families had already collected plates and blankets and sat by their own crypts.

  It took Quincy a moment to find his father. As tepey, of course, he’d be expected to greet the others, talk to each of the families, and in general show he was there for the pride. He moved through the cemetery slowly, stopping at each crypt to offer words before moving on. Quincy tried not to be angry, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

  He should be down there.

  He should have a plate of salmon and steak. He should be sitting on the blanket in front of the crypt, talking about the grandparents he’d only known for a short while before they died. He should be sending up his prayers to Bastet and Osiris and Thoth that his grandparents and the rest of his ancestors had safely passed the test of maat and found their place. He should be introducing Miles to them in their way, telling Miles about the memories he did have.

  Instead, he was on a hill, lying in the grass in cat form, next to Miles in wolf form—who also would not be welcome down there, not even if the current mess wasn’t going on. Quincy tried not to let the anger turn into hurt. He’d never missed a Festival of the Valley. Every year he’d made his trip to the cemetery.

  He took a deep breath and let it out.

  The elders sat at their table under the tent, looking as righteous and ridiculous as always. Every last one of them wore absurdly expensive suits and jewelry, flaunting the wealth they had as if it was some symbol of their true worth. There were families in the pride who could have used that money—families Quincy could at least say his father helped.

  Quincy shook his head and took in the rest of the gathering. He spotted his mother with her family. He’d long since gotten over her walking away. He did understand. They were a solitary species. He and his mother still spoke, but as tepey-sa, he was to be raised by his father and groomed to take over. Since there was no way she and his father were going to get along, it meant she stepped away. It wasn’t that they never talked or saw each other. They still did during events and the like. But they were little more than polite to each other.

  He leaned a little harder into the warm furry body next to him, then let his tail curl over Miles’s. Miles licked his face, and Quincy felt the calm Miles was sending over their bond. He returned the licks, then forced his attention back to the cemetery.

  His father had finally taken his place at their crypt. Quincy’s gaze was glued to his father with the fascination of watching a train wreck. He could have repeated, word for word, verbatim, each prayer his father gave and, in fact, found himself thinking each prayer along with his father. Each successive prayer, each bite of fish, made breathing harder. Quincy fought it all, the effort aided by the warmth and love next to him.

  They weren’t going to be there too long. Quincy had shown up toward the end, well aware of how dangerous it was. So by the time his father collected his empty plate and picked up the blanket, the sun had started to sink. Quincy lost track of it all as the emotional knot inside him expanded.

  It wasn’t until a nose worked its way under his chin that he realized he’d been growling softly. He took a breath, turned his head to his mate, and buried his own nose in the scruff of Miles’s neck. He inhaled deeply, then turned back just in time to see his father look around, then tuck a piece of paper into the flower pot in front of the sphinx outside their crypt.

  When night fell a short time later, the gathering dispersed fairly quickly. Many of his fellow jaguars felt they were tempting Seth to cause problems if they hung around too long. Quincy thought they were nuts—for all he believed in the gods, he didn’t believe they were that involved in the cats’ individual lives.

  Their departure to the tepey’s residence to continue the social aspect of the festival actually helped Quincy. When all that were left were the human caterers packing up, Quincy and Miles made their silent way to the tomb. Quincy sat briefly, bowing his head and asking Bastet’s forgiveness for not being able to honor his relatives properly. With a heavy sigh, he shifted and plucked the paper out of the pot.

  Le Bernardin. 8 pm tomorrow. Bring the wolf.

  He’d written dog first and crossed it out before writing wolf. Quincy didn’t have the emotional capacity to even get pissed about the name. He showed the note to Miles, then crumpled the paper. He glanced around and, when he saw a neighboring crypt that had a candle burning, crossed over and dropped the note into the flame. When he was confident it was ash, he shifted, and together he and Miles made their way back to the Challenger.

  He wanted to just be angry. He could handle anger. But there was so much more swirling around inside him. Frustration at the situation, the way his life had spun so out of control. Confusion over who could want him back so badly, who could want his mate dead. By far the biggest piece was something he didn’t even want to name. But his heart ached and a lump filled his throat so much that he was having trouble simply breathing again.

  Miles did the talking with Chad and Jamie on the way back to the hotel—telling them about the note and listening to their report. Quincy let the talk flow over and around him. He’d get the rest later. He just couldn’t deal with it right then.

  He let Miles hold him on the way back to the city, then be the one to get them back up to the room. It was a testament to how fucked up he was that he didn’t even make a peep when Miles stripped him and got him into bed. Part of that might have been because Miles climbed in right after him, pulled him in, and curled around him. But Quincy could admit part of it was just how bad he’d let the night get to him.

  For once in his life, he didn’t care what someone else thought. Instead, he burrowed into Miles’s arms and let himself be comforted.

  Chapter 10

  MILES LEANED a little closer to get a better look at the map Chad had laid out on the table.

  “Okay, so, Le Bernardin is here,” Chad said, tapping his finger on the entrance of the building on 51st. “There’s a Starbucks in the building just on the other side. Or there’s Café Duke right across the street. I’m actually thinking that might be better. More direct.” He tapped each option.

  “I’ll trust your judgment on that,” Quincy said. “You know what you’re doing here.”

  Chad flashed a smile, then went back to the map. “I think as long as we don’t, like, go into an alley or anything, we should be out of reach of the Three Ds, both going there and coming back. Unless you want to take a cab.”

  Miles wrinkled his nos
e, and Quincy laughed. “Miles has it right. If you think the streets of New York stink, you’ll love the cabs.”

  “I was here once for a conference. I seriously held my nose the whole way from the airport,” Miles said, shaking his head.

  Chad blinked, then nodded. “Uh, okay, then. I’ll take your word for it. We walk. Now,” he said, turning to Jamie, who handed him what looked like a tiny flesh-colored button. Chad held it up. “Bluetooth. It works along with this.” He took a black wire from Jamie and held it up too. It made one big loop, then came together to hang down. “Microphone and transmitter,” Chad said. “They work together. Single charge should get us more than twelve hours, and despite being a four-course meal, I doubt you’ll be in there that long.”

  Quincy snorted. “I couldn’t put up with my father that long.”

  “Right. So these will connect to this.” Chad tossed a cell phone at Quincy. “Motorola Moto G. Eighteen-hour continuous talk time. Prepaid through Verizon. I’m not worried about anyone tracing it, but I didn’t want to actually use your phone either. They know you’re here. They know where to find you if they want you.”

  “That’s comforting,” Miles muttered, tightening his hold on Quincy a little.

  “But true,” Quincy said, sighing.

  Chad paused and looked up at them. “There are four of us. All of us know how to fight. We can protect you, especially now that I have a better idea of what we’re up against. I’m guessing you’ve never used a weapon besides your claws, right?” he asked, looking at Miles.

  “Yeah. I prefer to heal, not hurt.”

  “I get that, but that might not be an option.” Chad frowned.

  Miles held up a hand and met Chad’s gaze. “I know. And if it’s a choice between Quincy or you guys—or me—and them, then, well, I’ll do what I have to.”