Bloodlines Read Free

different. In the “Victor doesn’t do wet work” kind of way.
    “And yet you’re here,” Jed pointed out bluntly. “And I’m not sure what your point is. So spill.”
    “I need Mr. Reed to help me because I need a wolf,” Randall said with a very slight shrug. “A human—no offense—is not going to be able to talk to the people we’ll need to speak with.”
    Redford had progressed to wringing his hands in worry. Jed didn’t like it when Redford got that look, the pinched nervous concern, the expression that said Redford thought he wasn’t good for anything. Before he could even form the thought, Jed was there, right at his side, arm around Redford’s waist. “I—I’m not really a wolf,” Redford said in a stutter. “I mean, I was a werewolf. And now I’m not, but I’m not a real wolf like others I’ve seen.”
    “I am,” Randall said very simply. “I know what you are, Mr. Reed. And you are exactly who I need. You are of Filtiarn. And you are the only one whom the Gray Lady will speak with.”
    “The whosa-whatsit now?” Jed was scowling at, well, fucking everyone. Goddamn people with their goddamn problems. “We aren’t going to talk to any of your freaky furry people. We’re going fishing. Both of us. Together.” There was a meow from the couch, and Jed added, without missing a beat or lightening up his frown one bit, “All three of us.” Damn fucking right they were.
    Victor gave a low sigh. “Jed, will you at least let Randall talk? He wouldn’t be coming to Redford if the matter wasn’t serious.”
    “Office hours are between eight and nine every fourth Wednesday,” Jed returned. “And you must have missed the big ‘fuck off, gone fishing’ sign I put on the door, so why don’t you just see yourselves out.”
    “Jed.” Redford’s voice was low. “I know we want to go fishing, but we should at least take five minutes to hear them out. The fish won’t go away if we’re five minutes late.”
    Jed closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Fine,” he growled. But he pointed his finger at both Randall and Victor. “Five minutes. Redford is going to get a vacation if I have to build an ocean, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. Five goddamn minutes.”
    “You’d do that for me?” Redford looked utterly charmed.
    “No, he wouldn’t. It’s quite impossible,” Victor said archly, impatient. “He—”
    “If Red said he wanted the moon, I’d ride Buzz fucking Aldrin up there and get it myself,” he told Victor in a calm tone, arms folded. “He wants an ocean? I’ll flood the streets until he can swim. Impossible’s got nothing to do with it. Besides,” Jed snorted, “you can too build an ocean. What, you think Jaws was real?” Clearly a fake ocean. And a fake shark. And possibly fake boobs.
    Victor fell silent with an annoyed little grimace, giving Randall a chance to speak. Randall sighed, sitting, hands folded tightly in his lap. “My brother is dying,” he told Redford simply.
    And just like that, Jed shut the fuck up.
    He’d gotten a lot of jobs in his life. Most of them didn’t matter. Powerful men wanting more power, rich men wanting more of whatever made them rich. War, all of it, only this time the enemies weren’t clear at all. Jed wasn’t a superhero. He wasn’t even a good guy. No one had ever come to him like this. Of course, the first time it happened, it was for Redford.
    “We’re wolves, like you,” Randall continued. “It’s just me and my two brothers, and Anthony is dying. You’re the only one who can help. Will you?” After a beat, he cut a glance over at Jed. “I believe that was less than five minutes.”
    “How am I the only one that can help?” Redford looked confused. He glanced at Jed quickly, seeking help, before looking back at Randall again. “I’m not a doctor. If he’s dying, you should go to the hospital, shouldn’t you?”
    “Ah.” There was a wry twist of Randall’s lips. “That, I’m