by Kat Keppeler
Finn sighed at that. Having his son home would be wonderful, but dangerous. He stood and walked to the corner of the room where his little closet was, opening it up and removing the box Chance had risked life and limb to get days ago. He had the key, it was one of the few things he’d managed to keep with him through the years. Finn walked over to the place Chance had propped his old leg up and then brought them both to his little bed.
“Have a seat.” He motioned for Chance, setting the box down and then lifting the leg. He shook it and the wooden foot rattled, a half smile cast at Chance when he did. It took about fifteen minutes for Finn to find a screwdriver and begin the long process of removing all of the screws that held the foot to its base.
They were rusty, all of those screws, but moved a little more easily than the last time he had prized them off. Once he had them loose he upturned the foot and into the palm of his hands. A few things fell into it, a wedding band set, a folded up piece of paper and a key. Finn sighed, placing the other two back into the foot leaving just the key for him. He unlocked the box and pushed it open.
There was a slew of paper inside, pictures and documents that included Bennett’s Fairfax birth certificate and Drusillas. There was little of actual value in the box to an untrained eye. A necklace that was loose with a fiery looking stone that shined ominously, that one he thrust back into the box, a few bits and bobbles. There was a book, old and bound in green leather with gold lined pages bearing Drusillas name on the front in scorch marks. It had a hum of power and a latch.
“Don’t get too interested, they tried opening it after she died and it won’t unlock. Her grimoire.” Finn offered, setting it aside before he pawed through the paperwork some more.
So many pictures of Finn and Drusilla scattered around until he found what he was looking for. A small, silver, looking compact. Finn picked it up and immediately winced as the metal began to burn his fingertips.
“Towel? This doesn’t tickle…” once Chance had a towel in hand he passed it over to him and shook his hand. “Pop it open…”
Chance accepted in into his lap and since there was no opening it with the towel, he shook his hand out once as if he were bracing himself before reaching out to touch the silver. He hissed a few choice curses through his lips before he pulled it open to look at the silvered surface that first showed his reflection and then began to roil with black clouds.
“Oh, one of those. Know how to use it?” Chance asked as he picked it up with the towel and squinted to make out the runes etching along the edge of it that bound the entity to the mirror to answer questions. “I’m sure that I can get it to work if you don’t but I have learned that I should ask you before I spend a week or two bashing my head against a wall, just in case.”
Chance gave him a wry, sidelong smile then.
“I’ve used it only a few times. The thing in there hates me, or at least it hated Drusilla. It speaks only Latin but if you threaten to bury it deep in the ground with a rosary it decides to actually listen to you.” There seemed to be a response to his words, a vision of gnashing teeth against the glass showed. “Yeah see, it doesn’t like being threatened. You know the drill there, give us a peek. Show me Bennett.”
The black rolled around more until the smoke cleared and just a face showed through the glass. A face that was framed by long red hair but had Finns kind eyes. The big man sighed, obvious sorrow in it. “I don’t think threatening it is the way to really get what you want. But if we can find a witch to help I think we might find progress in using it. It can show you where in the old world they’ve moved him to.”
“They’re like gremlins - you know, the movie? You have to feed them, blood and tears usually.” Chance commented as he examined Bennett’s face with those intense grey eyes that missed so little. “Sanguis et lacrimae.”
At that phrase, the black rolling across the mirror’s surface faded and a little wizened goblin of a face peaked out, squinting at Chance, “You understand that, you little bastard, don’t you? Tu fame? Vis ad prandium?”
At Finn’s raised eyebrow when Chance asked the damn thing if it was hungry, Chance shrugged at him, “I’ve always had a knack for magic more than most of our kind… At least we know why, now. Do you have a scalpel I can use around here?”
With a blade in hand, Chance flipped the palm up on his left hand and cut it quickly and deeply. As the red blood seeped up, he turned his hand downward so it could dribble onto the surface of the mirror where it dripped through as if the solid surface was a thin membrane into the hungry little monster’s mouth. “Ostende mihi Bennett. Ostende mihi animam suam.”
That was much more specific and this time the mist that filled the mirror was red with the blood Chance spilled before it showed Bennet as he currently was. The pack beta moved out of the way to find a towel for his hand, leaving Finn to finally see more than just the static picture of his son.
Finn watched in utter fascination as the goblin in the mirror lapped up the blood seeping through and then performed as he was told to without attitude.
“Huh, who knew?” He muttered as he stared into the mirror. His son was walking through some old streets, dirty as it looked. Cobbled, stones that looked ancient. Finn noticed next to each cobbled path there was a paved trench. “Aqueduct. Roman or Grecian?”
As Bennett moved he walked up on a building that was ancient in itself, just as he passed over the threshold the mirror went black again and the little goblin began muttering back to Chance in Latin. Finn frowned, it had showed them very little of what they wanted but enough to know that Bennett was somewhere very old.
“Well he isn’t all that helpful at all is he?” The thing hissed in the direction of Finn and the old wolf growled back. “Shut up, you little shit.”
“He can’t show us because the building is warded against scrying among many other things,” Chance said patiently and then replied in Latin to the little monster in a tone that Finn just knew that the beta was apologizing to the monster in the mirror. Carefully, Chance reached out to close the mirror, wrapping it in the towel. “He’ll keep an eye on Bennett and let me know his schedule. We know the city itself isn’t warded but apparently he goes in and out of warded buildings a lot and often the creature isn’t able to show you Bennett because he’s behind a ward. That’s why you get static images and it calling you some truly foul names.”
Chance explained with great patience as he wrapped the mirror in the towel, “May I take this back to the office? I’ll see what more I can glean when your son is not behind Wards and let you know when I find anything of interest. If you’d like, I’ll take the grimoire and put it away as well but that’s your call. If you’re going to keep it in here, find some place to put it that Skye won’t find it. Her magic is… unpredictable at best right now.”
“Take them both…” He said, and then held up a finger. He motioned to the open box where the red necklace seemed to glow. “Take that too while you’re at it. I have no idea what it is but it has always given me the heebie jeebies.”
The rest was just jewelry that had only monetary value, old heirlooms that Drusilla had clung too because they were priceless to her family. Finn just began to gather them all up, and the pictures, to put them away in a drawer somewhere. “I can do without a little goblin in my pocket, so if you want him he’s yours.”
Finn sighed, one picture in his hands that showed a smiling Drusilla in a long and flowey dress. The dresses of their times were something straight out of woodstock but despite her circle shaped glasses the woman was clearly beautiful. Probably part of the reason that Finn had been so attracted to her that he had broken long standing laws.
“He looks a lot like her, doesn’t he?” Finn managed, and suddenly the strong visage that he cast all the time was gone. Instead, he was a man mourning a son and a wife.
“All that red hair. He came out bright as hers… Just as vocal as she was too.” Finn cleared his throat and then turned the picture over as if looking at it caused
more problems than not. “You’ll let me know if that little snake tells you anything?”
“Of course,” Chance said quietly, wrapping the mirror away in a towel, and the necklace in its own little bundle and then the book in a third before he tucked them in a nondescript bag to carry the magical items back across the yard. He’d knotted a bandage around his palm and although he said nothing about Finn’s palpable grief, Chance was a companionable presence as Finn worked through it. They weren’t at the hugging and crying together stage - hell, Chance was never going to be that person, but he didn’t flinch away and Finn had the sense that the other man accepted the burden of his grief without comment or complaint. When Finn turned the picture over on the stack, Chance picked those up and sorted them back into the box, putting the lid back on it with a soft click and carrying it to a shelf that was well out of the reach of Skye accidentally finding it.
“Skye’s sleeping but would you like me to send Lee over?” Chance asked as he slung the bag up over his good shoulder and tipped his head to Finn expectantly. His grey eyes swept the room with that quiet competence. Lee might have showed his devotion through doing things for others and with much more ease and affectionate contact. For Chance, he showed it through taking care of problems and keeping things running smoothly. “You look like you could use some comfort.”
“No.” Finn said, standing up to walk back into the exam room. He grabbed the jogging leg, the flexible blade that he could use to jog. He passed Chance as he was on his way out and only gave him a nod. It would take only moments for Finn to be dressed in jogging shorts and a tank top, his long hair pulled behind him and he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chance walked back across the yard, nodding at the wolves who’d taken up posts since Rory put the pack on high alert and padded past them and into his office. Once the magic items were safely stored in his safe, he kicked off his shoes and reached up to rub the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension. He was starting to heal but it was taking too long. The idea of a threat showing up on their doorstep while he wasn’t at top form was maddening and so Chance had taken to getting everyone else as ready as they could possibly be.
He walked up the stairs without making a sound and peeked in on where Lee and Skye were curled up in bed together. Good, Lee had lain down with her to take a nap. They’d both feel better for it when they got up for whatever the hell this town hall was going to be like. Chance hated that their pregnant mate couldn’t take five minutes to get used to her rapidly changing life before another thing was thrown at her. If he had the power to make the world just stop for a month, he’d have absolutely used it.
Chance was more than tempted to crawl into bed with them but his duties weren’t done yet so he continued on quiet feet to go find Rory. He didn’t need to use the mark or his senses to know where his alpha would be. Chance continued out onto the porch that overlooked the property from the back of Seamus’ house. “I’m back.”
“I know.” Rory said as he stared out into the woods behind the house. His elbows had him propped, his back slightly curved as he stooped to lean on the railing. “You check on Skye and Lee? I haven’t been inside in a little bit but I figured you’d have poked your head in.”
Rory frowned, his dark brown eyes still scanning the wilderness as if he expected something to jump out at them any minute. “It was really stupid for us to let them go into town without someone to help. One of us should have gone with. If we had none of that would have happened…”
Rory was very good about kicking himself when things went wrong.
“I have to tell a whole fucking town of shifters that we’re a council interest tonight, Chance, and expect them not to call for our heads. This is how lynchings start.” Rory said, his posture tense. “How am I supposed to appeal to their good nature when we bring nothing but doom down on their heads?”
Chance went to sling one arm around Rory’s waist in an expression of casual comfort. It was really as demonstrative as Chance got outside of the bedroom, “Remind them that we’re not the bad guys, maybe? I don’t know, Rory. You’ll find the words. You always do. They’re not my strength, god knows. I can give you advice on any number of topics but inspiration is something you do better than any of the rest of us.”
The dark haired beta rested his bandaged hand on the banister in front of them, turning his gaze out to the sun.
“I didn’t think of it either and I’m the paranoid one, typically,” Chance reminded him. If it was a failing, it was their failing to share, “But I think it’s less the lack of forethought and more the growing pains of integrating our relationships with Finn in the mix. We are doing a lot, as you reminded me earlier, and sometimes we’re going to make mistakes.”
Chance went quiet for the moment, “I went out to talk to Finn for a bit. Got him set up with new legs, talked to him for a while.”
“Really? How did that go?” Rory asked, straightening up some to listen, he was happy to not have to think about what he needed to say. “Surprising considering just a few days ago you wanted to kill him.”
Rory smiled only a little bit and then shrugged some.
“He’s an asshole but he seems to be coming around some. I mean, this morning he stood there being helpful and for the first time in months he didn’t argue or object.” Rory shrugged at that, a heavy sigh leaving him. “Sometimes I wonder if he’d be better at all this than I am.”
Rory pushed himself away from the railing, beginning to pace just a little as he did. “Anyway, what did you learn from Finn?”
“He’s not. You have to communicate to be a good leader and Finn is perhaps maybe slightly better at communication than I am; which isn’t saying much,” Chance said with a wry smile. He turned to watch Rory pace, his arms folded over his chest even if it made his shoulder ache, “You were born to lead, Rory, and it’s the self doubt that’s holding you back right now.”
It was not the first time Chance had shared his opinions on that front and it probably would not be the last, so he moved on to answering the rest of his questions. “Well enough, I said I’d help him find his son, got a magic mirror from him that he had from the dead wife. Someone is going to have to point out that Skye is starting to feel unsure about things with comparing herself to his lost love but that is emphatically not going to be me. We should see if Lee will do it. He has the most luck getting Finn to listen.”
Chance spread his hands then, shrugging as well, “He’s our mate, Rory, you have to find a way to talk to him. Maybe you should just fight it out. Or fuck. Or both?”
“Finn doesn’t seem interested in that sort of physical relationship with any of us. He keeps to Skye.” Rory had not been nude with Lee lately, clearly. “But I think you’re right. He was always easy enough to talk to before… I just have to get over these ingrained commands. It says an alpha must be willing to submit or challenge for the lead. Aiden had lots of fellow alpha’s without any of them trying to take his spot. I need to figure out how…”
The thought of the council having influenced them hadn’t occurred to Rory yet. “I don’t want to fight him either. I know he’s big but… I don’t know, fighting a handicapped man just seems so wrong…”
Chance started to laugh when Rory commented about not being interested in men and then he laughed harder at the idea of not wanting to fight someone missing a leg.
“I bought him a very expensive leg. It’d be a fair fight,” Chance said, reaching up to wipe away tears of mirth, “But you need to admit that you don’t want to fight him not just because he might have to hop a couple of times before he tried to throttle you.”
He grinned then, showing the dimples in his cheeks to Rory before he announced, “Finn’s marked Lee’s shoulder. I’m pretty sure there was some foreplay involved. Neither of them are talking about it though so Lee’s actually feeling shy about the whole thing.”
Which meant it was more than just sex, but that was obvious to Chance with the markings on his shou
lder. Lee wouldn’t let just anyone bite him, especially now. “Knowing Aiden, probably a combination of bribery and blackmail. Don’t worry about what he does. Trust your gut; it’s never been wrong yet. Not once, Rory.”
“Really?” Rory said, a look of surprise on his face. “Hunh, I never pegged him the type. He’s always been so… So….”
A wave of his hand to show he was fishing for the words.
“Private? Solitary. I mean even when he was with Aiden, Finn wasn’t part of his inner circle. Or anyone’s circle. I always figured that was really Aiden’s fault, but…” Rory just looked perplexed. “If Lee is acting shy that means Lee is catching feelings of some sort.”
Rory looked at Chance, his eyes traveling over the familiar lines of Chance’s aristocratic features as he took in the nuances of each expression. “What about you then? How do you feel about Finn?”
The question had almost a tinge of jealousy. Skye had yet to see Rory and Chance act as much more than just a brotherly sort of relationship, but there had always been something more there. They often talked as if they shared Lee and not each other but that was a habit born of centuries of life before being out of the closet was something one could manage. “How much did you spend on new legs?”
“Less than I did on the house,” Chance said with a slow smile and he leaned back to rest his elbows on the railing. It wasn’t entirely a challenge, it was more teasing than that, almost flirtatious with the way he slanted a smile at Rory. “Why, do you want me to take you out and buy you something pretty? I might if you ask nice…”
His grin widened until his cheek dimpled and he tipped his head. That dark fringe of hair obscured one eye but the grey eye that Rory could see twinkled with unholy mirth. “Why… are you willing to share Skye and Lee but not me? When I get my tattoos redone, do you want me to get ‘Property of Rory Abbott’ tattooed right above my ass?”
Chance just might. Tattoos for him were a temporary body modification. They only really lasted for about a dozen shifts before his body shed them. Most of last year, Chance had the classy phrase ‘S U C K D I C K’ tattooed across his knuckles. He’d been planning to engage in slightly more respectable activities than a punk band though so any ink he’d been planning on would have to be covered by clothing.