"Don't be ridiculous," Victor dismissed, leaning his head against the gla.s.s to peer up at the trees as they turned down the dirt road into the forest. "I think it's quite lovely. Very private. I'm sure that the location helped the Lewises immensely, considering."

"Considering they like to go furry and chomp on cute woodland creatures?" Jed snorted quietly, concentrating on driving slow enough so that they weren't all bounced around like b.r.e.a.s.t.s at a rodeo. "Yeah, I'm guessing they don't want to be cramped up in a high-rise."

Redford made an affirmative noise. "With them being the kind of wolves they are, it'd be nice for them to have a lot of forest that they can run around in." He hesitated, frowning a little. "Not that I could do something like that. I'm still not really in control."

"Well, that would be even better for you," Victor pointed out. "If you lost control here, there's not exactly any neighbors you could traumatize."

Jed had never been much of a dog person. His parents had one, back when he was a kid, but he'd never bonded with it. Had never seen the point of running around outside chasing a stick or whatever. Jed liked cats. He liked how little they demanded, how Knievel would go from desperate for affection to barely remembering he existed in a swing of her tail. When Jed had felt the need to run, it hadn't been through the G.o.dd.a.m.n woods. It'd been a new life, a bigger city. It'd been forgetting who he was and hiding in the ma.s.ses.

When Jed thought of freedom, it was in the way he could sleep 'til noon whenever he f.u.c.king wanted. How he'd never, not once, had another lima bean since he'd sat all night staring at his plate, refusing to touch his mother's cooking. How he could take the jobs he wanted, leave the ones he didn't. How he had money in the bank and the man he loved next to him and n.o.body said f.u.c.k all about either. Or if they did, Jed didn't have to stay and listen.

It was how he felt good in his own skin most of the time. How his a.s.s fit perfectly in his couch, how he had weapons at his fingertips and he knew full well he could survive just about anything that got thrown at him. Because he had before.

When he was home, it was with a roof and windows and buildings in close. He liked the noise of traffic to sing him to sleep. And he'd never, not once, considered the fact that Redford-or, more specifically, Redford's instincts-might not feel the same way.

But as they drove, as the dappled sunlight flashed over Redford's face, the trees bending gracefully above them, it was like seeing a glimpse of that something more that seemed buried away in Redford. Being out in the woods was exactly what someone like Redford needed. Not a cage, not a bas.e.m.e.nt hidden under lock and key and chain. Not a tiny apartment, four walls, a roof, and no room to run. Redford still hid himself away every full moon when he had no choice about turning, still looked to that cage. To both cages, really, because Jed suddenly couldn't think of so many differences between a bitter old woman's bars and his apartment. None of it was fresh air. None of it was dirt under Redford's feet and a chance to actually be.

f.u.c.k.

"Yeah, well, the woods doesn't have a hot dog cart on the corner," he pointed out with a sudden manic grin, gripping the wheel tighter. He wasn't going to look over at Redford, at the way the dappled sunlight through the leaves was lighting up his whole expression. Wolves in cages were just a f.u.c.king sad thing to contemplate. Wasn't that what he'd been trying to save Redford from all this G.o.dd.a.m.n time?

"I do like the hot dog cart," Redford agreed. "Jed brings me a whole pack of hot dogs on full moons," he said to Victor, grinning. "I think I've gained five pounds."

Hot dogs, like that was somehow better than being free, and f.u.c.k, Jed needed to stop thinking about this right the h.e.l.l now. It wasn't doing anyone any good. They were here for a job, to meet the fur b.a.l.l.s and get the details of what they needed to do to get paid. Any other random thoughts could be shoved aside until later. That was what insomnia was for.

The drive curved, and all at once they were in a clearing, a low-slung log cabin in between two tall pine trees. Jed parked in front, vaguely surprised to see a sandy-blond-furred wolflike dog curled up on the porch, tail over its nose. When they piled out of the car, the dog raised its head and chuffed at them, trotting over with tail wagging to head-b.u.t.t all of their legs. It wound up next to Redford, looking up at him with a happy doggy grin, tongue lolling out.

Redford stared back in mute anxiety.

Jed immediately dropped down beside him, grinning, scratching behind its ears. h.e.l.l, he might not be a dog person, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a good petting. And he'd gotten way better at this since Redford. Apparently even growly wolves liked cuddles. "Who's a fluffy puppy?" he crooned, rewarded when the dog immediately flopped onto its side, showing its belly as it wiggled ecstatically under Jed's attentions. "Who is a furry, fluffy big boy?"

"That would be Edwin." The dry, faintly exasperated voice came from the doorway, Randall stepping outside with a worn flannel robe in his hand. "Who knows better. Ed, come on, you know the rules."

The dog-no, wolf-underneath his hands gave a forlorn sounding yip and nudged Jed's hand with his nose a final time. He shifted, and then instead of fur, there was skin, a blond mop of hair, and a broad grin staring up at Jed.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h!" Shocked, Jed sat back on his heels while the kid-who wasn't a kid and who was definitely naked-stood, and trotted up to where Randall was standing. Edwin shrugged on the robe and wrinkled his nose at Randall.

"You're such a stick-in-the-mud," he declared.

"Edwin is my younger brother," Randall explained, arching his eyebrow at Edwin and looking completely unaffected by Edwin's a.s.sessment of him. "And he apologizes for going wolf on you."

"No, he does not," Edwin replied, arms folded, all sun-kissed skin and long limbs, defiant and proud. "We're wolves, Randall. I'm not going to apologize to a bunch of two-legs about that."

Randall sighed. "Fine. Go see if Anthony needs help, would you, Ed?" As his brother scrambled inside, he called after Edwin, "And put some pants on, please!"

When the door shut behind Edwin, Randall came down the steps, offering his hand to Redford. "I'll apologize then, if Ed won't," he said quietly, gaze touching on each of them before finding Victor's. "Anthony taught us not to shift around people. It's common courtesy that Edwin sometimes chooses to forget."

There were rules for that kind of s.h.i.t? Jed was just left to stand up again, staring, baffled, cutting little glances over at Redford. Sure, he'd known they were going to a little wolf family. The reality of it was slightly different. Redford had always seemed, to Jed, like a guy who just happened to go furry. Randall, though, and Edwin even more so, struck him as wolves who sometimes walked around like people. It was something in their eyes, in how they stood, in the way they carried themselves.

Around Redford, Jed felt like he was the traditionally normal one, the one who was altogether human. He'd never seen a full moon as anything other than too much light for wet work before Redford, where Redford lived in fear of the G.o.dd.a.m.n thing. But now, standing there, Jed realized all at once he was the odd one out. He was the one who didn't fit in.

Seemingly bereft of words, Redford took Randall's hand to shake it. Victor did the same. "You have a lovely house," Victor complimented. "Did you or your parents build it themselves?"

"I did." A man wearing an ap.r.o.n and a cooking glove stepped out of the front door. "Anthony," he introduced himself, giving them a bright grin in greeting. "Let me guess, the one who smells like gunpowder is Jed, the wolf is Redford, and the other guy who looks like Randall's wet dream is Victor."

Jed choked out a laugh, a broad smirk tripping across his face. Randall immediately turned bright red, giving his brother a positively mortified, wide-eyed stare, and Victor turned much the same color. "I like you," Jed declared, holding out his hand for Anthony to shake. "Right on all counts, although I'm not sure the princess could really wet any panties."

Instead of the handshake he'd been expecting, Jed found himself engulfed in a floury hug. Anthony then did the same to Redford, who looked stunned. Jed was still watching Anthony, shocked, hands instinctively going to make sure his wallet and his gun were still in place. The last time he'd gotten an unsolicited hug, his pockets had been picked cleaner than Tom Cruise's straight genes.

"Well, you're all welcome to treat this house as your own," Anthony said. "Randall has told me everything, and trust me when I say that all three of us are d.a.m.n thankful you want to help."

Victor looked startled when Anthony grabbed him in a hug too. "He told me about Cairo," Anthony continued, looking between them, his expression turning serious. "I can't thank you enough. You three are the reason that he's alive, and for that, I'm more grateful than I can tell you."

"Yeah, well, don't try," Jed said gruffly, shoulders rounded, hands in his pockets. "Seriously. We did a job, we got paid, your brother was just one of the lucky ones. No grat.i.tude necessary."

Redford looked uncertain. "Are you the alpha?" he asked Anthony, obviously trying to put as much confidence in his voice as he could.

"Am I the what?" Anthony's nose wrinkled in confusion. As he took in Redford's shrinking posture, though, he seemed to connect the dots, a faint smile touching his lips. "We don't really use that terminology," he corrected gently, like a parent nudging a toddler on simple manners. "I'm the oldest. I'm sure Randall can explain it to you much more academically if you want an explanation of pack dynamics, but I won't be ripping your throats out for stepping on my territory." He almost looked amused at the thought.

Randall had disappeared inside the house. Jed was betting he was hiding from Victor. Which was just d.a.m.n funny, really. "Someone promised us food?" he asked, clapping Anthony on the shoulder as they walked toward the house. "And then we can talk details. Redford will be taking point on this job, but I'm here as a consultant. Victor's here because he's tired of eating those little frozen meals alone and crying in front of his TV." Jed looked over his shoulder, giving Victor a wide, innocent grin. "What was that show you liked so much, princess? The Everyone Hug and Dance and Sing and Twirl Fairy Story?"

"Yes, that sounds about right," Victor said wryly. "I do love that show."

"I'm making rabbit stew," Anthony announced. "Don't worry. It's not from the supermarket either."

"So, you guys hunt and all that s.h.i.t?" Jed was interested, his hand going, like always, to find Redford's. "Like, on all fours? Or do you do it the old-fashioned way?"

"Wolf hunting predates modern humans by a few years at least," Randall pointed out dryly as he emerged from the dining room. "Even if you count the point where your ancestors were running around with blunt sticks, hoping they could find something slow enough for them to catch. So I'd say our way was the old-fashioned manner."

The place wasn't huge on the inside, but it was neat. Well, neat by Jed's standards, which meant it wasn't on fire. None of the surfaces had anything growing on them, so in his opinion the Lewises were right up there with Martha Stewart and his mom. It was obviously rustic, the axe marks visible on some of the roughly hewn walls. There was also a television and a record player in one corner, along with shelf after shelf jammed with books. It was lived-in and cozy, and Jed liked it, from the soft rug slung out in front of the fire to the dining table set with st.u.r.dy blue plates.

"We make sure that we don't overhunt, of course," Anthony was saying, making his way back into the kitchen. He gave Edwin's hair a fond ruffle as he joined him at the counter. "Does it need anything else, Ed?"

Edwin, dressed now, thank G.o.d, took another taste from the stew pot. "Nah, it's perfect," he said, giving his brother a wide-open grin, nudging his shoulder against Anthony's. Edwin didn't have a trace of guile in his expression, nothing hiding or held back. He just was, this kid who looked to be all of twenty, broad shouldered and so G.o.dd.a.m.n alive. He looked like Redford did sometimes, when Jed did something good enough to shake off the years of care and worry and fear for him, when Redford stopped hiding behind the ghost of an old woman and his own scars.

"Good." Anthony nodded. "Make yourselves at home, please, get comfortable. Do you want anything to drink? We've got water, beer, tea, and coffee. I'm sure we have juice in here somewhere."

Redford picked out a seat close to the roaring fire, the tense expression slowly leaving him. "I'd love an orange juice," he ventured.

"Let me get that, Ant," Randall said, immediately going to the stove and putting a coffeepot on. Jed was brought a beer, and he nodded his thanks to Randall as the man went out to hand Redford his juice. "Why don't you sit? I've set the table. Edwin and I can take care of the rest."

Jed watched Anthony carefully. Up until that moment, no one would think the guy was sick. He was bustling about, equal parts wolfish and strong, still wearing that G.o.dd.a.m.n ap.r.o.n. In a flannel shirt and equally worn jeans, he looked like the grinning love child of Martha Stewart and a lumberjack, messy brown hair and bright-blue eyes, dark stubble lining his jaw. But right there, when he reluctantly handed off the pot of stew to Randall, Jed saw his left hand shake. Anthony frowned, quickly curling the trembling hand into a fist, and stuffed it in his pocket to hide it.

Under the smiles, under the easy warmth, Jed saw the tension. This whole family was holding their breaths, desperate and hopeful and terrified. And they were making them dinner. Instead of pushing for their help right the h.e.l.l now, instead of demanding, they were setting out plates, Edwin cutting up bread, Randall finding the b.u.t.ter. It was a family here, but more than that, it was one that wasn't afraid to let them in. Maybe that was just because of what they wanted from Redford, but s.h.i.t, the stew smelled good and he had a cold beer. Jed wasn't going to complain about ulterior motives.

Redford tugged Jed down to sit next to him on the wide couch, nudging his side with an elbow. He looked at Jed, then tilted his head toward Anthony, silently asking if Jed had noticed. Letting out a slow breath, Jed wrapped his arm around Redford and nodded, eyes narrowing slightly as he went back to watching the brothers. "Yeah," he murmured lowly. "Yeah, I know."

"You're a wolf." Edwin had appeared at Redford's side, easy grin as messy across his face as the faint freckles and the wild tangle of blond hair. "I mean, you're a wolf like us. I can smell it." Leaning in, he took a deep breath as if to confirm. "Nice to meet you."

"I-I'm not really like you. Sorry." Redford had leaned backward slightly from being sniffed. "I used to be a werewolf. Now I'm somewhere in between."

c.o.c.king his head, Edwin studied him. It was the longest Jed had seen him be still yet, those pale-blue eyes tracking across Redford's face. Then he shrugged, tapping the side of his nose. "Yeah, well, I can smell you. And you're near enough to a wolf to count. Come on." He held out his hand. "Dinner's ready, and Ant's stew is legendary."

Anthony gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, a legend in this household."

"It smells amazing," Victor piped up, eagerly migrating toward the table. "Thank you, once again, for all this. I haven't had a home-cooked meal in quite some time."

As much as Jed gave the guy a hard time, he had to kind of feel for Victor. Not a lot, but he knew what it was like to think "homemade" meant the instant noodles you'd heated up using the coffeepot because your microwave had something stuck to the inside that smelled like death. Or maybe that was just him. In any case, Jed knew he was d.a.m.n lucky to have Redford, and Victor.... Well, even with David, he hadn't been lucky like that. Most people weren't.

"You're always welcome here," Randall ventured, though his head was bowed over the bowls as he ladled up the stew. "I mean, we take turns cooking, and there's usually something edible around." His gaze cut over to Victor quickly, before he determinedly looked away again. "After all, I owe you quite a bit more than a simple dinner."

"Oh no, you don't owe me anything," Victor replied, looking startled but pleased at the offer of further dinners. "You have Jed to thank for your rescue in Cairo and Redford for helping here. I'm merely tagging along, though I do hope to be helpful."

"Jed and Redford are more than happy to accept dinner in trade for lifesaving." Jed waved Randall off. "In fact, if you get me another beer, I'll say we're even." He'd rather have a simple meal than a bunch of thanks he didn't know what to do with, any day.

They took their seats. Jed held out Redford's for him and claimed the chair next to him. Edwin easily took the bowl from Anthony, almost seeming as though the gesture meant nothing. He and Randall got Anthony's food ready, filled up his gla.s.s, all without missing a beat or appearing like they were even deliberately helping him. It was a ch.o.r.eographed dance between people who didn't want to acknowledge why they were doing what they did.

Anthony took a few moments to encourage everybody to put more on their plates than what was really necessary, making sure they had enough to drink, fussing over bread. Jed noticed that he subtly switched out his bread plate for Edwin's, giving the larger slice to his brother. He did much the same thing with his bowl of stew and Victor's, like it was ingrained in him to make sure everyone else had enough before he let himself relax into his own place.

"Well, before we get started," Victor said, lifting his gla.s.s, "may I propose a toast? To working together, and to hopefully finding a solution." His gaze went to Randall, a rea.s.suring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "With Jed and Redford on your side, I've no doubt they'll find a way."

Jed laid his hand over his heart as he raised his beer. "Was that a vote of confidence? Professor, I'm touched." He mimed wiping away tears, sniffing loudly. "G.o.d, and I didn't get you anything. Red, remind me to stop at the pocket protector store on the way home. Victor deserves something pretty."

Victor looked thoroughly unamused. "As an addendum," he continued, as if unaware that Jed had spoken, "I apologize for any explosion, property destruction, or loss of limbs. All three regularly happen in Jed's vicinity."

At that, Jed laughed genuinely, leaning over the table to clink his bottle against Victor's gla.s.s. "Now that I'll drink to," he said, giving the man a grin. "And to the professor. If we play our cards right, he might just use that big brain of his for good instead of putting me to sleep."

"Cheers," Randall said with a sideways little smile, raising his gla.s.s. Everyone else followed suit, and they settled down to eat.

The rabbit stew was f.u.c.king fantastic. Jed had eaten some weird s.h.i.t in his life-once, while embedded in Cambodia, he'd eaten roaches the size of his fist off of where they were crawling all over him after his rations ran out-but this was less well, it's eating this or my own foot and more just plain delicious. "G.o.dd.a.m.n, this is great," he enthused, reaching for a second helping, sopping up the last drops in his bowl with the bread. "Seriously, holy s.h.i.t."

Beside him, Redford gave a low laugh and nudged Jed in the side. Yeah, okay, Jed was well aware that he said the same thing every time Redford cooked. But come on, they'd taken a bunch of nothing, and now it was something way better than frozen chicken patties. That was like a form of magic in Jed's book. Forget water to wine, this s.h.i.t was the real miracle. Besides, he was more of a beer guy anyway, and no holy son of G.o.d had ever made a decent brew.

"I suppose we may as well get down to business," Anthony said, leaning back in his chair as Edwin reached over in front of him for more bread. "The first thing we'll have to do is find the Gray Lady's pack."

"Which might be easier said than done," Randall said, offering Victor more stew with a hopeful little look, which Victor returned by happily handing his bowl over. "We're going to need to find a place where people will be willing to talk about such things."

"And where would that be?" Redford piped up. "Do you know of any places like that, Jed?"

"Oh, yeah, me and the Easter Bunny were hanging out just last weekend." Jed snorted quietly, giving Redford an apologetic wince. "I'm kind of thinking my contacts are going to be about as worthless as t.i.ts at a bathhouse."

"You could go to Murry's Bar," Edwin offered, stealing the spoon from Jed to dish himself up yet more stew. "There's always a bunch of naturals hanging around there." Catching Anthony's look, Edwin immediately tried for an innocent expression. "Not that I've ever been there! I just heard. You know, from other people."

"Naturals?" Bewildered, Jed frowned around at the rest of the group. "What the h.e.l.l does that mean?"

Randall sighed, slipping off his gla.s.ses to clean them on a corner of his shirt. "It's a rather crude slang expression that ought not to be used. It means other than human. The supernatural community, if you will, though generally we don't have a universal name for the differing groups of us. Those that use the term natural are arguing that we are the normal ones. It's humans that should be considered others."

"Supernatural...." Jed trailed off, eyebrows raised. This was a f.u.c.king weird conversation. He was half expecting someone to come out with a herald and a trumpet and hand him the Sword of Destiny or some s.h.i.t.

"Werewolves, vampires, half bloods," Anthony clarified, giving Edwin another suspicious look. "And who exactly did you hear this from?"

"Oh, you know," Edwin said, carefully not meeting Anthony's eyes. "Just around. Hey, you should totally go!" He changed the topic swiftly, turning to look at Redford. "You'd definitely get in. They just have a couple of wolves at the door that sniff you to make sure you're not a preter or anything."

"Edwin," Randall barked sharply, eyes narrowing. But instead of continuing, he just looked to Anthony, as if awaiting his mediation.

Jed and Redford shared twin looks of utter confusion. "Preter?" Jed asked. "Maybe slow down the crazy talk around the uninitiated. What the h.e.l.l is that?" It sounded like a slur against p.e.n.i.ses.

"It's more slang." Anthony smacked Edwin on the shoulder as a rebuke. "Only this time it's pretty rude. Preternatural is what some call regular humans. You know, other than natural. It's not something any of us should be saying, not in this household. Edwin, seriously, we have a human sitting right here at the table. Can you curb the racial insults?"

"And it's less than polite in mixed company, even if you choose to use it in private," Randall muttered, shaking his head.

Jed shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "Hey, I'm just.... I mean, come on, I'm not different."

Except yes, he was. He was wildly different. He was part of a whole different race, and apparently all the things that went b.u.mp in the night got together and voted him out of the clubhouse.

Jed sagged back in his chair. Edwin looked abashed, murmuring, "I'm sorry," but Jed waved it off.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I scratched your ears and saw your a.s.s. In some cultures, we'd be married."

Anthony just shook his head. "In any case, Edwin's suggestion was a good one. If anybody's going to know where the Gray Lady's pack is, we might find them in there. Although I think he and I should have a discussion about the people he hangs out with."

"I'll go," Redford said. "You said that she's looking for the remains of Filtiarn's pack. If anybody has information, they'll know she's looking for people like me." He hesitated, eyes darting over at Jed. "But, um. I guess Jed can't go?"

"f.u.c.k that nun, I'm going," Jed said, arms folded, jaw jutted out stubbornly. "You go, I go, babe. That's how this works. We're partners, remember?" And like h.e.l.l was Jed letting Redford walk in anywhere he hadn't vetted first. G.o.d only knew what kind of s.h.i.t might go down, and Jed wasn't going to leave him without someone to watch his back. And his front. And all side portions of him.

"I want you to be there, but if this is a bar where wolves and vampires and everybody else hang out, it might not be... well, Edwin says they sniff out humans." Redford looked apologetic. "You might not even get past the front door."

"He could go if he's escorted," Edwin said, sighing heavily at the looks his brothers gave him. "I didn't say I agreed with that option. I'm just saying, sometimes naturals bring their preter in. They have to be under control and stuff. I even think they use leashes sometimes. The vampires at least." A pause, and then, very unconvincingly, "So I've heard from people who I have no real a.s.sociation with."

"Edwin, how do you know this?" Anthony looked appalled. "Please don't tell me you've ever done that."

"Ew, no." Edwin wrinkled his nose. "Collars are gross. I just... have friends who told me." His voice went up at the end, an overly innocent look affected, as if that was going to make Anthony stop pinning him to the chair with an expression that brought to mind a patient bulldog.

"Which friends?" Randall said dryly. "I wasn't aware that your reflection counted."

"Shut up. I have friends." Edwin rolled his eyes at Randall. But, fidgeting guiltily under Anthony's glower, Edwin finally sighed and admitted, "I went last week to hear someone speak at Murry's. It was a lecture. Educational, even!"

"Who would you hear speak at that place?" Anthony folded his arms. "It's a bar, Ed."

"A guy called Phoenix." Once again Edwin tried for the guileless uptick of his tone at the end before apparently giving in and simply shrugging. "He's doing all these rallies around lately. I saw a poster for it and went to check it out. He talks a lot about preters... um, humans and their relationships to naturals. Um. Us."

"You and I are going to have a very long talk later," Anthony threatened. He looked apologetic as he turned back to Jed and Redford. "Would you be okay going there? It sounds like there might be information to be found."

Jed smirked. "Nah, that sounds like just my kind of scene. Count me in. I'll provide my own leather pants."

"What? No, we're not doing that," Redford yelped, horrified. "I am not putting you on a leash or anything. That's degrading."

Reaching out, Jed took his hand, holding it between both of his. "It's a cover, Fido," he reminded Redford. "I'm just there to back you up. A collar's an accessory, is all." He grinned, a flash of amus.e.m.e.nt crossing his face. "Not the first time I've worn one." Though probably in this instance he wouldn't be calling anyone Daddy.