Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter
Fifty-One
It had been two weeks since I saved Thomas, Justine, and their son, and I still felt fairly crappy about the whole thing.
I’d taken to doing my meditating out on the roof at sunrise as the spring mornings got warmer.
Fitz joined me every morning, as did Mouse on weekends.
For Mouse, meditation looked like him curling up in a sunbeam and taking a nap next to me, but he gave off such an aura of peace and contentment when he did it that I figured he had to be helping.
Bear hung around while I did, always wary, never obvious about it.
The massive Valkyrie had tried to convince me, at first, that sitting completely still with my eyes closed on a roof when there were a lot of places that I could be shot from was a bad idea, and on a technical level she was absolutely right.
But you can’t go through life hiding in a cave.
You’ve gotta get out in the sun, or you aren’t living. Just surviving.
Anyway. I was just wrapping up and doing a few stretches, not yoga, and Thomas, in a denim jacket, tank top, and workout pants, came out of the doorway to the roof and stepped into the sun, squinting.
It was early yet. The protesters and counterprotesters wouldn’t start showing up for another half an hour or so.
Mouse lifted his head at once and started thumping his tail on the stone floor.
I lurched up from what an ignorant person would have thought was a pigeon pose.
“Hey, guys,” I said to Fitz and Bear. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen for breakfast.”
I’d given Fitz the very brief rundown on Thomas. “That’s him, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.” He pushed himself up with the lightness and ease of youth and said, to Bear, “You ready to do coffee yet?”
“My God,” Bear said. “Why would anyone drink that bitter nonsense when there’s already hot chocolate?”
Fitz shook his head grimly as they headed for the stairs. “Damn. Even with the biker boots, sometimes you only rise to cool adjacent, Bear.”
“Guess I’ll just have to lose a couple seconds’ worth of sleep over the lack of your approval, then,” Bear said easily.
Thomas frowned after the pair of them and then glanced at me. “Valkyrie?”
“And new apprentice,” I said. “So far, Council doesn’t know about him.”
He shook his head. “Damn. I missed a lot.”
“I know how you feel. Exactly.”
He considered that for a moment and then grunted. “When you were dead for a while.”
“Not much fun, is it?”
“No.”
He walked over to me, and then past me, and leaned on one of the crenels and looked out over the city. “Town’s all weird now. I went walking.”
“Yeah,” I said. “After you got, uh, hospitalized, a lot happened.”
“Lara’s been filling me in,” he said, tone still neutral.
He looked a lot better. Like, all the way better.
He seemed to have added on his usual effortless muscle tone, and his face was all planes and jawline and perfect cheekbones.
His eyes were a deep blue. His hair looked like a magazine cover again.
Had any women walked by, they’d have given him extra looks.
But his eyes were just desolate.
“You’ve been feeding,” I said quietly.
He nodded. “Lara’s herd has been neglected, apparently. She’s been helping me…manage my Hunger. But it will take time.”
A year ago, that comment probably would have disturbed me. Now I just thought it was probably necessary to keep anyone from dying.
I didn’t know if that meant I’d been corrupted on some level or if I’d just learned things.
I wondered where the difference between those things lay.
If there was a difference. There probably was.
Maybe I’d need to be a lot smarter to know exactly where it was.
Which meant I should probably be very, very careful.
In this case, it helped me understand my brother and his pain and troubles better.
I’d take it.
“How you handling the change in diet?”
He smiled bleakly. “You’ve been learning, huh?”
“Yeah. Looks like.”
Thomas shook his head. “It’s weird. Lara likes classical musicians. I keep finding myself listening to new music. Having a lot of confusing dreams. I don’t sleep peacefully anymore. When I sleep.”
“Yeah. I know how that one goes, too.”
Thomas stiffened and said, “I’m not here for your sympathy.”
I was quiet for a moment. Then I said, “Right. Sorry.”
“I’m not here for your apologies, either,” Thomas said. “When will Justine be back?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
He turned to me, his face a remote mask. “Not good enough. Not even close.”
I spread my hands. “Look. I can guess. But I can’t even promise it will be close.”
“And you’ve already done so much,” Thomas said, his voice bitter.
I took a deep breath.
I recognized that voice, too. Thomas was hurting.
Hurting in ways I didn’t know about in addition to some that I did.
He’d always had what were probably unconscious issues of self-loathing, about being a vampire, about the lives he’d taken.
He was in enough pain that I could cut him some slack.
Pretty much whatever slack he needed. He’d probably feel differently over time, as he healed.
“Okay,” I said calmly. “Well. When Mab had the Leanansidhe under, uh, treatment, she was missing for a good long while. At the very least a year or two. But it could be longer or shorter than that, based on how fast time was running in Arctis Tor compared to the mortal world. But Lea is also a supernatural being and extremely strong-willed and tough-minded. Disciplined. Trained in sorcery, psychic battle, all kinds of stuff I probably don’t even know about.
She had mental defenses that had to be broken down over a really long time to kick Nemesis out of her. ”
Thomas stared at me. “With Justine,” he said, “it might not take as long. Is that what you mean?”
“Maybe not,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe it will. I don’t know. I’ve tried calling Mab but she isn’t answering. I assume she’s busy. I don’t want to bump her elbow while she’s doing psychic surgery.”
“She’s a monster,” Thomas said.
“Yeah.”
“She has Justine,” Thomas snarled.
“Yeah,” I said calmly, “and she might be her only hope. I looked for Justine for the whole year, every week, and I couldn’t find her.
Me. And I’m good at finding people. Lara looked for the whole year, with the whole power of her organization and influence, and she didn’t do any better.
But Mab found her. Captured her without killing her.
Brought your son into the world in good health.
And is now working to save Justine. Mab’s a monster.
But she can do things no one else can do. ”
“What did it cost?” Thomas demanded.
I told him. About Lara. About the influence Winter now had on her. That I now had on her.
Thomas stared at me for a long moment. Then he said, “Empty fucking night.” He swallowed. “If the White Court finds out about this, they’ll tear her to pieces fighting for who takes over.”
“Then don’t tell them,” I said.
He bowed his head.
“Harry,” he said, “you and I…You’ve made choices for me. For the people I love.”
“I know,” I said.
“I think…” he said slowly, and very quietly, “…that…it would be best…if we didn’t speak for a while.”
I swallowed.
My chest hurt.
I felt hurt. I felt angry. Stars and stones, I had done my best. I had been falling to bits and had still done my best to do whatever I could. I hadn’t been thinking at my clearest, and Mab had taken advantage of that, but I had tried. So hard.
Deep breath.
All of that was true. But right now, it wasn’t about me.
Sometimes, when you care about someone, the only thing you can do to help them is give them space. Time. And be ready to talk when they are. Thomas was hurting, lost, disoriented in adjusting to a new life.
I knew how that felt.
And I loved my brother.
I wanted to help him. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it yet.
“I get it,” I said quietly. “I see it. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“A lot,” he said, bitter again, “will depend on how things turn out. With my son. With Justine. With Lara. With my people.”
I braced myself, forced myself to keep my voice as calm and kind as I could. “Thomas,” I said. “I did everything I could.”
“You sure as hell did, Harry,” he said, voice broken.
Then he shook his head and left.
Mouse watched him go and made a soft, mournful sound. Then he rose and padded over to me and leaned against me, laying his head against my stomach, dark eyes looking up at my face.
I put my hand on his head and said, “I know, buddy. I know. He just needs time.”
And that was the last I saw of my brother for a while.
—
Mouse, Bear, Maggie, and I were in the gym.
Maggie had begun doing gymnastics when she was small and had kept it up here and there after her original foster family had been massacred and she’d gone on her own healing journey in the Carpenter home.
She liked to practice her basic tumbling, and Bear and I often set up the mats for her to work on when she was in on the weekends.
She went by me doing lazy-looking cartwheels. Bear had assured me that making it look that easy meant that my girl had real skill. I was probably feeling irrationally proud of her and figured that I was probably being a good father by doing so.
“So, he didn’t even say hello to me while he was here?” Maggie asked, as she went by in circles.
“I know, kid. I’m sorry. Thomas is hurting a lot right now.”
“But I made him pancakes,” she said. She came to her feet at the far end of the mat and crouched down to sink her hands into Mouse’s fur. That was the kind of thing she did when she was feeling her own demons haunting her.
Mouse came up on his forefeet and leaned his giant shaggy head gently on her shoulder, and she put her arms around him.
“I could make him more pancakes?” she asked, without looking up.