Page 41 of Old Secrets

“She can make people explode with spikes of rock. You’re just handsome, really. And while I appreciate the benefits of that, you have no real value to this group.”

“Which is why they shot me and discovered I’m much harder to kill than I look. And well, they discovered the same about you, but they didn’t live to tell the tale.”

It had taken time, but I had accepted I’d become a bloodthirsty monster hellbent on revenge while convinced Jake had been killed. “If they hadn’t tried to kill you, I wouldn’t have killed them.”

“So, are you convinced we’re not dead yet?”

Rather than tackle my spouse and engage in a wrestling match I would lose, I chittered my frustration at him, snapped my teeth, and swore revenge as soon as we were somewhere private. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Never. It’s a joy in my life. Once I realized what was going on, you were a mix of sweet, absurd, and entertaining. No, not just entertaining, highly entertaining. But, it does make me question some things about your tendencies. Your mother does not seem nearly as emotionally invested as your father.”

“Oh, she is,” my father stated in an amused tone. “She just has more pride than she knows what to do with and refuses to admit it. We have been together for so long we no longer understand how to be apart. This does not bother me. She is a wilder spirit than I, so she sometimes wonders what would change if we were apart. But she is as bound to me as I am to her. It amuses us to play games with each other. It keeps things from becoming stale and boring. She is far more willing to test you than I. But, neither of us knows how to handle this situation. We’ve seen many children grow to become old, but never ours. You’re the first to reach the age you have.”

I couldn’t help but wonder how many graves existed, dedicated to my brothers and sisters. That none had lived as long as I deepened my turmoil—and further firmed my resolve.

Greenwich would die, and I would live. Before, I had survived to spite my ma, but I would change that to something better.

I would live to give my parents a chance at peace. If I were the only one of their children to thrive, I would do so for as long as I had any say in it. My worries for what would come—and my awareness Fenerec were not eternal—would be a secret burden. Perhaps one day I would discuss it with Jake.

Fenerec could die.

Ferenec often went mad with age. I’d been warned about that enough times to believe it.

What I could change, I would.

What I couldn’t change, I would fight against until hope no longer remained.

“Am I old enough to have a better chance of survival now?”

“I believe so,” my mother replied, although her expression promised something troubled her. “What I have been told about the shooting in London indicates you already benefit from our resilience. That would have killed a human, without a doubt. At first, we take a long time to heal, but we can heal from damage that would kill most. If the damage is severe, we will shift to a different form until we can endure as a human again. You may have done that in the aftermath, though you may have listened to your fox and allowed her to take control. That is fine. She is you as much as you are her. As you age, you’ll understand she is just a part of you, and that it’s a matter of controlling yourself rather than a separate entity.” My mother’s gaze fell upon Jake. “Whereas you seem to be a body sharing two souls, and the wolf you live with is there solely because he wishes to be. You have a relationship. She will not and does not, not in the same sense.”

“She can’t run wild like Fenerec can,” my husband murmured.

“I do not understand what you speak of,” she admitted.

As I’d gotten the lecture more times than I cared to think about, I took a moment to explain how Fenerec sometimes went mad and became rather murderous beasts, usually starting their rampage with their loved ones. “It’s a real issue, and the Inquisition exists in part to make certain these wild wolves hurt as few as possible. It’s generally assumed the mate of the wolf isn’t going to survive.”

“You will be able to control that with time, I’m sure.” My mother got up, came over, and leaned down to regard my mate through narrowed eyes. Reaching out, she touched a finger to Jake’s brow. “Ah, yes. I see what you mean now. Should you lose the balanced state of your souls, the wild animal emerges. Maddened from the loss of the human side? We might be able to work with this. Rabten?”

My father rose and joined my mother in scrutinizing Jake. “I think I can teach her how to tame the wildness, although I will need to observe him for a while. This is not a problem we or our kin have.”

Well, that was good news for both of us—and our children, especially if they inherited his tendencies more than mine. “Is there anything that can be done to help them with it?”

“As a long-term solution?” my father tilted his head to the side, and his brows furrowed. “I will think on it. If nature did not intend for his kind to exist, they would not. But without knowing what sort of magic birthed his kind, it is difficult to say if we can change their imbalance. But there is an imbalance there. Perhaps an accidental creation of humanity meddling where humanity should not meddle?”

That I could believe. I’d learned early in my career in the FBI that humans did many things solely because they could. It took very little for someone to abandon their morality in favor of immediate gratification. “I can always leash him and just make him stay nearby should he step out of line, assuming you can teach me how to contain him when he’s being more beastly than he should be.”

My mother snorted and my father laughed. He then said, “You’d just end up arguing over which one of you controls the leash and wears the collar. You’ll have a harder time keeping him away. We men are rather like pests in that regard.”

No kidding. I stared at Jake and waited for him to accept responsibility for being a pest.

“I’ve learned that look. That is the look of expectation, and if I agree with her, I might get out of this alive and unscathed. If I don’t agree with her, I might get bitten. The problem with this is she is yet to comprehend I enjoy when she gets snappy and decides to start talking with her teeth. She has not talked with her teeth ever since she entered her fertility cycle.”

Jake played up his pout and sad eyes because he understood I tended to crack and laugh at him. Sure enough, a snorted giggle escaped before I could stop it. As I couldn’t laugh and leer at the same time, I caved to the inevitable and chortled at his expression.

“That is a problem you can resolve easily enough when the time is right,” my mother promised. “Just be difficult. If you are difficult for long enough, she will become impatient, and that is when the biting happens.”

My father snickered, and he showed me his arm, which bore a collection of scars. “And he will learn to get his arm in the way should he wish to preserve his throat. She never bites to harm, but once she gets latched on to the throat, she will not stop until she gets what she wants.”