Charles was smiling when he walked through the front door Thursday. It threw me for a moment. It's not that I've never seen him smile, it's just that he generally goes more for stoic and inscrutable. Charles can do inscrutable like nobody's business. He's also exceptional at silent menace- anywhere from subtle looming to immanent death. He's honed that for his father, but you don't have to have been on the Marrok's bad side to know that you don't mess with Charles. Everyone I know is at least a little afraid of him, except maybe Bran and Samuel, and he goes out of his way to keep it like that. The best you can usually hope for with Charles is impassive.
A head of curly brown hair appeared at his shoulder and I began to understand. Since he's met Anna, little scraps of happiness have started slipping out in less guarded moments. It's sweet, and endearing, and sad, because it reminds me that Samuel's real smile is gone. Charles' looks favor his mother's side of the family, heavily, but the brothers have the same smile. Maybe it was literally the same one, and Charles was just finally taking his turn.
I dropped the potatoes I was peeling in the sink and wiped my hands on the voluminous apron protecting my T-shirt from the hazards of the kitchen. I'd borrowed it from Adam this morning; all my clean ones were packed for New Mexico.
"You made it!" I exclaimed, nodding warmly at Charles and giving Anna a big hug. Charles isn't much for hugging.
"Last night, actually. Samuel picked us up and took us to his... your... to the trailer. It's nice." It was Anna's first visit to the Tri-cities, although she'd spent some time in the Seattle area. My 1978 single-wide mobile home, in the middle of an empty field, wasn't exactly a tourist destination, but it was sweet of her to try.
"Samuel's," I said firmly, "as possession is 9/10s of the law. Besides, he's the one who paid for all the upgrades." Samuel had been a great roommate – he'd replaced my water heater and air conditioner, among other things.
Samuel, carrying a 30 pound smoked turkey as though it were weightless, arrived just in time to contradict me. "I'm just a squatter. You know she almost made me sleep on the porch?" He grinned, broad and charming and shallow. Charles frowned.
"I should have let you; I'd like to see you talk your way out of the trespassing charges. A few nights in jail might teach you some manners," I retorted.
"I doubt that," my husband commented dryly as he came down the stairs. His sudden arrival electrified the room, bathing it in the power of three of the four most dominant wolves on the continent. It made my heart rate pick up a bit, but I wasn't nervous. Not really. Adam smiled, a genuine welcome even if he did take care not to show his teeth, and shook hands with the Marrok's enforcer. "Glad you both could join us for the holiday. Welcome."
Anna nodded in greeting and moved half a step back behind Charles. Her first pack left her with an understandable wariness of dominant wolves, which makes her relationship with Charles both ironic and problematic. They're working it out; pretty well, apparently. Adam strolled over and slung a casual arm around my waist and Charles eased a leg back until it brushed against Anna's, but that was the extent of the territorial displays.
"It will be fun to have Thanksgiving together," Anna volunteered, emerging a little from the shelter of Charles' shoulder. "When we talked about it with Bran, I think he was jealous. He wanted to come, too."
I chuckled at the thought of adding that complication to dinner. All I'd need then was Stefan to come early- I could seat him between Bran and Zee. Still, it had been a long time since I'd shared a holiday with the Marrok and his family; a lot had changed since then. It might be nice to try it again, if I could leave Bran's mate Leah out of it. She'd tried to kill me last time I'd visited Aspen Creek; that was sufficient grounds to disinvite someone, surely? "Maybe next year you can come back and he can come with you. We can have a big family dinner. I call not it on peeling the potatoes."
Everybody laughed, even Charles. "Tell you what," he offered, "maybe you and Adam and Jesse should just join us in Aspen Creek. It'll be easier. We'll make Da peel the potatoes."
Charles joking. The world was changing indeed.
"I'll be in charge of a couple of the turkeys again," Samuel offered cheerily, setting the one he carried lightly on a countertop. "This one is practically perfect, if I do say so myself."
Charles and Samuel exchanged looks that had nothing to do with the turkey. I might have been able to get in on the silent conversation, but we were interrupted.
"Need any help up here? I heard something about potatoes..." Gena appeared at the top of the basement stairs, Scott at her heels and Medea draped across her shoulders. My cat was being systematically and hopelessly spoiled. The whole group stopped short as they caught sight of the new arrivals; the kitchen fell very quiet. Charles has that effect on people- even me, and I don't quell easily. Gena seemed to be improving – she was staying in a bedroom again instead of the cell - but she was injured, angry, and on unfamiliar territory, all of which could make this introduction rocky and get her justly kicked off the roster for the Los Alamos trip. This was the moment of truth.
She wisely dropped her eyes as Samuel introduced his brother. I couldn't smell any fear from her, but Scott was putting out enough for both of them, his body tense and uncertain, his eyes focused miserably on Charles' toes.
"It's a pleasure," Gena declared, moving slightly to her right and thwarting Scott's attempt to get between her and the dominant male who had invaded Adam's territory. If only the overprotective males in my life could be thwarted as easily.
Anna stepped forward then, and a change came over the room. She was doing her thing again; even though I can't feel it myself, I could trace the path of her influence as it bubbled out to fill the room by the way the tension evaporated. Charles' shoulders dropped, Adam's arm relaxed against my back. I like Anna and enjoy her company; to the wolves she can be peace incarnate. As the wavefront reached the stairs Gena's head jerked sharply, disbelief and hope warring on her face. Scott's jaw dropped. "Omega," he whispered roughly, and Anna smiled.
"I'm Anna Cornick, Charles' mate," she said, taking Gena's hands in hers. "I"m so excited to meet you. Why don't we go sit down?"
Gena followed her gentle guidance, wearing roughly the same expression she had when she met Medea. Scott trailed them to the living room, standing out of the way, but close enough to feel the benefit of Anna's calm. When they sat on the couch he folded himself down behind it and closed his eyes.
"That went well," I commented in a low voice as we watched them go. Charles was looking at Anna with undisguised approval. "She must make your job a lot easier," I told him.
"She does." His smile grew sharp. "I hardly have to kill anyone anymore."
His words had the feel of a deadpan joke, but the emotion that flashed across his face was elation. I revised my impressions of Charles a little further.
"We were afraid you wouldn't bring her on a business trip like this," I confessed, reaching out to slap Samuel's hand away from the turkey before he could steal a taste. He recoiled in mock outrage, cradling his fingers; I ignored him.
Charles shrugged. "She wanted to come."
And that had settled the matter? I elbowed my husband to make sure he was paying attention; he rolled his eyes at me and snatched a bite of turkey.
"Ok, ok, that's enough!" I declared, hauling the bird to one of the ovens to keep warm and safe. "Dinner is only an hour away; no one is going to starve before then. Charles, glad you could make it. Samuel, thanks for the turkey. Adam, don't forget you are in charge of the rolls. Now, anyone still left in this kitchen in sixty seconds becomes my new potato peeler."
It was a hollow threat, since there were only one and a half potatoes left to peel, but very effective. In less than ten seconds the kitchen was empty. Jesse showed up just after I dumped the last potato in the pot, and Adam returned with football scores shortly thereafter. We worked together, Adam on the bread and Jesse and I on the side dishes, while our guests trickled in.
"Mercy!" yelled a familiar voice, and I turned to see the boy who'd given me my job at the shop, now taller than the pot-bellied, crochety old man glowering beside him. Glowering with pride; I could tell from the crinkles around his eyes and the set of his lips. Zee may not enjoy hanging out with the wolves, but he was too devoted a father to pass up the chance to show off his Ivy League son.
"Hi there, squirt," I greeted him. My hug left a butter smear on his shirt; I tried to brush it off, but Tad just laughed.
"It's not home without an oil stain or two," he joked. "How've you been?"
"No one's eaten me yet. How is school going?"
"Killer semester," he groaned, but there was a glint in his eye that made him look like his father. "I'm studying around the clock."
"Pulling all-nighters with just a coffee pot for company, huh?"
"Nah, I have a study group. There are a couple other scholarship kids like me, and we band together where we can, try to thwart the evil professors. So far it seems to be working."
I read 'like me' to mean other Fae or part Fae students – Tad's scholarship was part of a bribery program designed to coax Fae citizens onto reservations like the one Zee lived on. "Any girls in this study group of yours?"
The glint became a full-fledged grin. "And if there were? Hypothetically."
I'd heard a lot about Tad's rather complicated love life while he worked for me; he'd really needed someone besides Zee to go to for advice. I clearly had some catching up to do to maintain my 'expert' status here. "Then, hypothetically, I'd expect full disclosure over dinner. You are sitting next to me, young man."
I pumped Tad for information all through dinner and before Zee dragged him off I'd learned that the mystery lady was a blonde musician from Austria, that her name was Linnea, and that he proofread all of her papers in exchange for help with his European history. Zee snorted at that, and I threw a spoon at him since it's his fault Tad never learned it in the first place. Zee has lived an awful lot of history, but he doesn't like anyone to talk about it. He says he prefers the present. Tad seemed happy with the way things worked out, though; he promised to call me with further updates.
After dinner there was more football; fortunately most of the pack favors the same teams and alcohol has no effect on werewolves. There were no brawls. Warren tapped me on the shoulder late in the afternoon and handed me his cell– I was so wrapped up in monitoring our houseful that it took a second to remember why.
"Kyle! Happy Thanksgiving. How are things going?"
"Better than I expected, actually. We remain tense and awkward. There have been no drunken recriminations and nary a shouting match. Everyone is on their best behavior."
I was glad to hear it, even if I wasn't sure how much of the upbeat attitude was real and how much was for the benefit of his hovering partner. We chatted a few minutes, but it was clear that every second Warren wasn't talking to Kyle was a sacrifice; I elicited a promise that he would come home soon and handed the phone back quickly.
Charles found me on the porch, staring at the not-quite-half-full moon in the night sky and catching my breath. "Mercy, I'd like to talk to you for a moment." His eyes flicked to the window and the kitchen table, where both our mates and my daughter sat in warm yellow lamplight, talking and laughing. When the stress of being injured in a crowd of strangers had grown too much for Gena, Samuel had swept her to the trailer to watch movies, but Scott had stayed. That he was willing to part with her, even at her insistence, in favor of Anna's peaceful aura spoke to me of the state of his soul. Ben still lurked nearby as well – not close enough to be drawn into the good time, but never out of range of Anna's influence, either. Most everyone else had gone home, but their contentment still hummed through the pack bonds, enhancing my sense of triumph in the day's production.
"Walk with me?" Charles suggested, stepping off the porch into the darkness.
Whatever he wanted to talk about was sensitive enough that he didn't want to chance being overheard. I figured I'd better go.
We walked down to the riverbank in silence, listening to the crisp breeze rustle the browned vegetation. I used the time to fret about Samuel. Charles was more relaxed and happy than I'd ever seen him before, and watching the brothers together had unsettled me about Sam all over again. He'd been cheerful enough, but when Gena hit her limit he'd been just as eager to leave as she was, and once or twice as he'd looked at Jesse or Anna his expression had slipped a little. I wasn't sure anymore how much of his coping was just a good face.
"I'm concerned about Samuel," Charles announced without preamble and, apparently, without realizing that he was reading my mind. "He's not well." Guilt curdled in my stomach, even though I knew it wasn't my fault. I wasn't the source of his pain, I just hadn't been the cure he hoped I'd be. "It's... difficult for him here," Charles continued, "living alone, living so close to you when you are Adam's."
Charles respected Anna; he didn't need the lecture that sprang to my lips on hearing myself labeled as a possession. I took a breath and directed my attention back to the subject at hand. "I know, but it can't be helped. I am Adam's, and that's how it should be. Samuel knows it, too. I keep an eye on him – he seems to be doing ok."
"I wonder if anyone could say for certain. He's nearly as good at guarding secrets as Da."
Nor was he the only one being guarded, I realized. Charles was turned slightly away from me, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes fixed on the dark rush of the river. Something was going on. "Where are you going with this?"
He turned toward me, stray beams from the house glinting in his dark eyes. "Samuel has agreed to come back to Aspen Creek. To live. Probably before Christmas."
My skin turned cold and my stomach lurched as my mind and my heart parted ways. Intellectually I could concede that it was a good move for Samuel. His family would be able to look after him, and Anna's influence could only help. He wouldn't be taunted on a daily basis with the life that he craved and didn't have. I hadn't actually wanted him here in the first place.
But since he'd been here, things had changed. I didn't like the idea of him pining away where I couldn't keep an eye on him. He was a good influence on Jesse, he'd been an invaluable help in the chaos of the last year... he was my friend again. He was pack.
"He hadn't mentioned that."
"Secrets," Charles repeated. "He didn't want to make a production of it, but I think springing it on you at the last minute would be... unwise."
That was an understatement. "Does he know you're telling me?"
"He knew I planned to."
I realized that not all the dismay I was feeling was my own. Adam would have felt my reaction to the news, and he had no way to know what caused it. "Charles, would you excuse me for just a second?"
He nodded, so I wandered back towards the house until I had a clear view of the door. Adam was in the process of coming out of it. I waved at him, sort of a combination 'hi, everything's fine' and 'go away'. I needed few more minutes alone with Charles. He hesitated a minute, but eventually Adam took the hint and turned around. I waited a few seconds after the door closed behind him, trying to compose my thoughts. Charles hadn't moved when I got back.
"He's doing a lot of good here, in the hospital," I offered, watching the black ripples of the river slink by. "I think the hospital is doing him good as well."
"There'll be plenty of opportunity for him to ply his trade in Aspen Creek."
With werewolves around a doctor was never out of work. I hugged myself and kicked at the ground, pondering.
"You said he agreedto go back?" I asked. "Not asked to?"
"I was the one who asked. But Samuel said yes." After a moment he added gently, "I think it helped him for a while, being here. But now..."
"Now it's harder," I finished for him.
He nodded. "I've known him a long time, Mercy. A very long time. I'm worried."
"Yeah, so am I." We stood quietly a little longer, Charles giving me space to try to wrap my head around the news. He was really very considerate, in his own way. "I don't suppose I get a say."
"Not really, no. The decision's been made. I would, however, appreciate your opinion."
"I don't like it, but I guess it makes sense. Sort of. You really think it's that bad?" I got a single, sober nod in answer and sighed. "And you'll keep me informed, whether he does or not?" Another nod, just the same. "I guess I'll have to learn to live with it, then."
"You could try visiting Aspen Creek once in a while. Da would take it well."
I had to glance at him to see if this was another joke; Aspen Creek and I hadn't parted on good terms when I lived there, and my one trip back hadn't been any more warm and fuzzy. There was no trace of humor in Charles' face, though. Bran had come to my aid, against the dictates of common sense, ready to go to war when I was facing down the vampire sorcerer. He'd dropped in just to check on me a time or two in the last year as well. Maybe I should visit more than once a decade in return...
Charles stiffened, bringing me abruptly out of my reverie. I tensed, turning my face in the direction Charles was looking, and sniffed at the cold night air.
Vampire.
"Hi, Stefan."
Between one breath and the next he was standing beside me, his jeans and T-shirt light smudges in the dark. "Sorry to interrupt; I was in the neighborhood and thought I should say hello."
"It's alright, I was just going in." Charles gave a stiff nod, and then turned to me. "We'll leave early tomorrow, probably just after sunup."
"I'll be ready. Tell Adam I'll be right in." I didn't encourage Charles to linger; our pack has a special relationship with Stefan, and most of our wolves would still try to kill him on sight. For a vampire and a werewolf they'd just managed a practically friendly exchange, and I didn't want to push my luck. Charles was already half way to the porch when I turned back to my vampire pal. "In the neighborhood, huh?"
His cheery face turned sober; it was a more fitting expression, but I didn't like it as much. "The second exchange is complete. It should accomplish what you want. It will be more effective while I'm awake, so keep that in mind."
"Right. Plan all bloody brawls for after dark."
Stefan flashed a slightly bitter smile. "Haven't you ever heard that violence solves nothing, Mercedes?" I was startled by the touch of his hand running softly down my hair; Stefan can move at strictly ridiculous speeds when he chooses. "Be careful down there."
"Stefan-"
"I know," he laughed, stepping back casually, "and you're right. But trouble does seem to find you, and your friends do like you in one piece." His eyes glanced across my wounded shoulder, still bandaged under the shirt, and then away.
"I'll be careful," I promised, slightly surprised at the sound of my own voice. First Gabriel, and now Stefan. Was Tony going to show up on my porch tomorrow morning and swear me to caution?
My promise seemed to satisfy him; he took my hand and kissed it, a formal gesture that seemed perfectly appropriate when Stefan did it. "If she gets too vengeance mad, ask her about Jonah. That will settle her down. And if you need me, either of you, just call. I'll come." And once again he was gone.
