Blood Diamond

by R. J. Blain

  “Three chainsaws?”

  “And two hours. I told you, he hit a tree.”

  “He really landed in the water and managed to hit a tree?”

  “He did. Don’t ask me, Elliot—I don’t know what happened. All I remember is waking up with the plane wrapped around a tree while half submerged.”

  “Wonderful. Gerald isn’t going to fetch us tonight, is he?”

  I smiled a bit at the frustration in my brother’s tone. “You won’t be missing much. Even if he did, from my understanding of the situation, in about thirty minutes, I’ll either be passed out or higher than a kite from the medications they’ve prescribed. I’m really sorry I worried you.”

  There was a long pause followed by a heavy sigh. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Can you give Gerald the phone?”

  “He’s with his girls. I’ll give you over to Maggie.” Before I could do anything other than hold the phone out, she claimed it, stalking back into the kitchen. After several moments, she drew a deep breath and bellowed, “Gerald, phone!”

  It didn’t take him more than a few moments to make his appearance, claiming the phone from Maggie. “Good evening, Mr. Anderson.”

  From behind their father came Beth and Ruth. They both had their brunette hair tied in pig tails, watching me with wide eyes. Both had grown more than I had expected. Ruth clung to a floppy-eared bunny. At six, she was a year older than my Jacqueline would have been, if she were still alive.

  “Hi,” she said, clutching her bunny tighter.

  It took me several moments to compose myself before I could speak without my voice betraying my anguish. “Hey, girls. It’s been a while.” I couldn’t get over how big they had gotten; when Ruth had been born, Beth had been a wobbly, collision-prone toddler. They fidgeted, which made me suspect Gerald had warned them to be gentle. “Where are my hugs?” I begged, giving my leg a slap.

  They swarmed me, jostling and elbowing each other in their attempt to climb on my lap. I picked Ruth up under her arms, and ignoring the stabbing pain in my wrist, I hauled her up. Beth clung to my suit, weighing enough to tip me in her direction. After settling Ruth, I tried to figure out how to fit both of them on my lap without either one of them ending up on the floor.

  Maggie put her hands on her hips. “Girls, he is not a tree for you to climb on. Be gentle, he’s not feeling well.”

  “They’re fine,” I murmured, hugging both of them. “They’ve really grown, Maggie. At the rate Beth’s going, she’s going to be as tall as I am.”

  Giggling at me, Beth wiggled on my leg, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek. While both of them could chatter a storm, I was impressed by how quiet and restrained they were. I returned her kiss with one on her forehead.

  “Girls, come help set the table. And no, Jackson, you may not help. I won’t have you breaking any more of my dishes!”

  The girls jumped down off of me to patter into the kitchen. I feigned a heavy sigh. “It was only one dish, Maggie. Just one!”

  “You will stay where you are, Mister,” she ordered.

  Gerald leaned against the kitchen counter, mimicked my sigh, and said into the phone, “You’re not getting your way, Mr. Anderson. No, I will not give you my address. I will have someone pick you up tomorrow morning, early. It’s dinnertime, and I have to go supervise your brother. Go to sleep. If you haven’t already, take those sleeping pills. I asked for them to be prescribed for a reason.”

  Without waiting for my brother’s reply, Gerald hung up. “He’s excitable today.”

  “I wonder why,” I replied.

  Maggie tapped the pot with a metal spoon. “Enough play, boys. After dinner, it’s a very early bedtime for you, Mr. Jackson.”

  Suspecting arguing would prove fruitless, I said, “Yes, Mother.”

  She laughed. “You’re such a brat.”

  ~~*~~

  I was the first one awake the next morning. Driven downstairs by the pounding in my head, I bumbled around Maggie’s kitchen with the coherency of a zombie, disregarding the doctor’s ban against coffee. The black sludge I ended up with didn’t taste like coffee, but it was hot and it took off the edge of my exhaustion. I made myself at home at the kitchen’s island, flipping through one of Maggie’s gardening magazines. My other options were a two-week old newspaper and a financial magazine I had already read.

  Halfway through my second cup of coffee, the doorbell rang. I glanced at the microwave’s clock, wondering who would be visiting Gerald at a little after six in the morning. Mug in hand, I hobbled my way across the house.

  Too tired and achy to put in the extra effort to peek through the peephole, I disengaged the security system and opened the door.

  I came face to face with my father, whom I hadn’t seen up close and personal in at least six years. Too busy gawking to form a coherent thought, let alone say something, he shouldered his way in, dragging a pair of suitcases and a gym bag.

  “What did you do to your wrist?” he demanded, glaring at the brace. After setting the luggage down, he got out of the doorway to let in the two women behind him. I recognized Nicole from the countless times she had made an appearance during video conference calls with Richard. She had dark rings under her eyes, and her dark hair was a tangled, ratted mess. I admired her for her lack of makeup; many women relied on tricks to be beautiful, but Nicole was genuine, which made me like her all the more.

  Ignoring my father, I exchanged kisses on the cheek with Richard’s wife. Like Maggie, she was short enough I had to bend over for her to reach me without forcing her to stand on her toes. “There’s coffee in the kitchen if you’d like, ladies.”

  “You look like hell. I hope we didn’t wake you,” she replied.

  “I was already awake. Judging from the lack of squeals and thumps from upstairs, the kids are still asleep, which means Gerald and Maggie are as well.” Operating under the hope that if I ignored my father he would go away, I turned my attention to the taller, brown-haired woman flanking Nicole. “You must be Amber. Forgive me for not shaking your hand,” I said, raising my coffee mug in salute.

  Amber nodded. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. I agree with Nicole: you look like hell. Go sit before you fall down. I’m too tired to help you up.”

  “The kitchen’s this way, ladies.”

  As I passed my father, I considered whether or not my coffee counted as a weapon and if I had the energy to smash it over his head. Deciding against the idea, I guided the trio to the kitchen, setting my coffee aside to pull down some mugs from the cabinets, careful not to break any of them. For a second, I considered only fetching two, but I brought down the third to remain polite.

  My father remained silent, watching me, probably trying to decide which one of his sons I was. I had no idea what his relationship with Elliot was like, nor did I want to know. Determined to remain at least somewhat polite, I ignored my surging resentment at his presence.

  Making coffee delayed the inevitable, so I focused all of my attention on the pot. Stifling a yawn, I eyed the coffee machine warily. “I’ve been told I shouldn’t operate any machinery. I think they were right. I’m fairly certain I made poison disguised as coffee.”

  Nicole joined me at the kitchen counter, lifting the carafe to sniff at the brew. “If it tastes as bad as it smells, I’m impressed you still have taste buds.” She dumped the pot into the sink. “Get away from the coffee maker.”

  I turned to head back to the island when she snatched the mug out of my hands. Its contents ended up in the sink.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I wasn’t aware that you were a threat to coffee,” Amber said, perching on the stool next to mine.

  Nicole leaned against the counter while the coffee brewed, flashing a tired smile at me. “He’s the second sweetest man you’ll ever meet. Richard being the first, of course.”

  “Richard could have rabies and you’d still think he was an angel,” I countered, grinning back at her. �
�I’m not going to ask how you got here so fast without flying.”

  My father sighed, hooked a stool with his foot, and sat at the far end of the island, well out of my range. “Never have twins, ladies. They’re not double the trouble, they easily triple it.”

  Bursting out laughing, Amber shook her head. “I don’t need twins to know that, Mr. Anderson. Nicole’s the elder of a pair, and they’re incorrigible.”

  “They picked me up in Toronto. It probably would have taken longer to fly, but would have been substantially safer,” my father announced.

  The island was disappointingly devoid of things I could use as a weapon. “I’m the one who doesn’t exist,” I informed him in a grumble.

  “You look remarkably intact for someone who was in a plane crash,” was his neutral reply.

  “Who was flying?” Nicole demanded.

  “Not me. I was napping when the plane went down. I don’t remember anything. When I woke up, it was daytime and the others were gone.”

  “Fuck.” Snarling, she clenched a hand into the fist and banged it on the granite counter. “I’m going to kill him once I find him.”

  Judging from the way Amber sighed, it was something the wizard had been saying a lot lately. “Easy, Nicole. Richard’s a good pilot. I’m sure he didn’t mean to crash the plane. Take a look at Jackson. If he survived, there’s no way any of the Fenerec were seriously injured. Wherever he is, he’s fine.”

  “Richard’s running wild. That does not constitute as fine. He didn’t tell me he was intending on bringing two new Fenerec into the pack. The pack’s in flux, which means I can’t figure out where he’s at.” Nicole spun to pour the coffee, muttering curses.

  Most of them were directed at her husband, although I heard a few aimed in my direction. I pretended not to hear any of them.

  Amber rubbed her temples. “Please forgive her. She’s worried sick, and I mean that quite literally. She puked in the car twice on the way here. It doesn’t help that she doesn’t know who the two new Fenerec in the pack are.”

  Nicole scowled. “He didn’t need to know that, Amber.”

  “Their names are Evelyn and Vicky,” I supplied.

  With wide eyes, Nicole turned her full attention onto me. “Vicky? You don’t mean Mr. Anderson’s Vicky, do you? His boss?”

  I gawked at her. “You know about her? Does everyone know about her? I just met her this week.”

  “Did you know about this?”

  I grimaced, wondering how much I could risk telling them with my father listening in. It was unnerving enough knowing he was nearby, staring at me. The fact he remained silent didn’t help me relax any, either. “I did. Richard thought it would be wise considering our special familial circumstances.”

  On the phone, I knew Nicole as an even-tempered woman who didn’t take any bullshit from anyone, especially her husband. Snorting, she poured a fresh cup of coffee and handed it to me. “That’s the understatement of the year, Jackson. I’ve heard quite a bit about your familial circumstances. They’re crazier than mine, I’ll have you know.”

  “What did you mean by Richard running wild?” I asked, sipping at the coffee. It tasted a lot better than what I had made.

  “He’s a wolf, that’s what I mean—he’s a wolf without any care of the fact he’s also human,” was Nicole’s subdued reply. “It happened right after he brought the two new members into the pack. I’m willing to bet one of them was at risk of running wild and he got caught up in the pack bonds. That’s why he’s never supposed to bring new members into the pack without Amber, Alex, or I there. We can stop that from happening.”

  Amber snickered. “She doesn’t so much stop it from happening as she thoroughly distracts him from anything other than her. All she has to do to accomplish that is walk into the room with him.”

  Nicole flushed.

  “Probably Evelyn,” I muttered, my anxiety igniting at the thought of her out in the wilds as a wolf. While I knew Fenerec were tough and capable of taking care of themselves, it was likely my fault that Evelyn was running wild with Richard and Vicky. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if she was hurt.

  I didn’t want to think about it. The thought she might not come back made my throat tighten and my stomach churn. I pushed away my coffee.

  “Just who is she, anyway?” Nicole demanded.

  Amber patted my hand. “I’d bet that she’s his mate.”

  I froze, even more aware of my father’s stare boring through me.

  “Excuse me, but did you just say his mate?” my father asked, his tone chillingly neutral.

  Nicole’s smile terrified me. Bringing a cup of coffee to my father, she leaned over the counter and looked him in the eyes. “He belongs to us now, as does his brother. If you or the Inquisition touches either one of them, you’ll regret it. Am I understood?”

  “What does Elliot have to do with your pack?” my father countered, meeting her gaze steadily.

  “His mate belongs to us, which means he does too.”

  I groaned, slumping over the island. “Now you’ve done it, Nicole.”

  “What? It’s the truth.”

  Amber rubbed the center of my back with a hand. “You’ll get used to it. Most of the time, she’s this docile, angelic girl. When we least expect it, she turns around and does something like stare Richard down. Sometimes she slugs some idiot into next week, reminding us all that she has a sword for a spine.”

  My father pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two are going to be the death of me. Are you seriously telling me that you both have taken complete leave of your common sense?”

  I draped both of my arms over my throbbing head. “Yes, sir. Why are you here, anyway?”

  “No yelling,” Nicole ordered. “There are sleeping children in this house and we are guests.”

  “There are sleeping children in the house,” Gerald confirmed.

  I lifted my braced left arm in a wave. “Good morning, Gerald.”

  “Good morning, everyone. I’m relieved to see you made it intact, and with the hitchhiker as well.”

  Amber kept rubbing my back, working her way up to my neck, which she massaged hard enough to hurt. With laughter in her voice, she said, “He was doing a good impression of a lost puppy. Nicole felt sorry for him. It’s a bad habit of hers, picking up strays. One of these days, I’ll beat it out of her.”

  “Why do you have coffee, Dante? I’m pretty sure I told you no coffee last night,” Gerald said. Before I could make a grab for the cup, he stole it and set it in the sink. “How many have you had?”

  I held up three fingers. “The first two were terrible.”

  “You tried to make the coffee, didn’t you?” Gerald grunted, opened the fridge, and in short order, set a glass of orange juice in front of me. “Drink that and take these.”

  Six pills waited for me, including another dose of the anti-nausea medications. I sighed, poking at them.

  “Before you continue your discussion, I would like to point out that Dante has a concussion, is under a lot of medication, and is not fit for any sort of argument. If you pick a fight with him, I will have Amber shoot you and deposit your corpse in my basement for Elliot to deal with.”

  I made a mental note never to anger Gerald.

  “Don’t worry. Mr. Leclerc. I have no intentions of causing you—or him—any problems. Dante, I came because someone called me in tears, telling me that his brother had been in a plane crash. At the time, all he knew was that someone had been pulled out of the wreckage, but no one knew who.”

  “Way to go, Elliot,” I mumbled, making a second mental note to have a long talk with my twin.

  “He has a concussion, a sprained wrist, required a few stitches, and had a transfusion, but otherwise emerged in remarkably good shape for someone who had come within several inches from losing his life,” Gerald reported. “I’d like to keep him that way.”

  “As I said, don’t worry. The person he really has to worry about is his mother. Fortunatel
y for all of us, she’s in Atlanta making Inquisition heads roll.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it. It’s probably Elliot,” Gerald said.

  I groaned. “Just kill me now.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Amber said, patting my shoulder.

  “Think you can convince Gerald to let me have my coffee back?” I complained.

  If I wanted to survive through having most of my immediate family nearby, I was going to need something. With two women present, I swallowed back the myriad of curses I wanted to spew. Sitting up, I grabbed the collection of medications Gerald had set out for me and swallowed them back with a single gulp of orange juice.

  “You can’t have the coffee, Dante. What are you, a child?” Gerald asked.

  I twisted around to level a glare at him.

  My brother stood behind Gerald, halting when he saw me. “Dante—” When his gaze slid over to our father, his mouth dropped open. “Oh, shit.”

  “Language,” I snapped. “If I can’t have coffee, you can’t curse. Evelyn’s missing, and I am not up for your—”

  “Shut up, Dante. You’re going to get us both in trouble,” he warned, closing the distance between us to hug me. He thumped my back, and I hissed as he hit a tender spot. “You worried us all.”

  “What did you do to your face, Elliot?” our father demanded. “You’re a sight to behold. You look like the plane crash victim, not him.”

  Elliot straightened, pulling away from me to scowl. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

  “It was either me or your mother.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, shuddering at the thought of facing my mother. I hadn’t seen her since I had been evicted from the Anderson household and put into fostering with my godfather at age five. All of my life, I had lived under the impression that she wouldn’t care if I died. Things would have been much simpler for her.