Bloodlines Read Free Page B

all, the eldest of all the packs, and she was the one in leadership when my mother and father decided to leave.”
    “You realize that none of that makes sense, right?” Jed was frowning, looking over at Victor for a moment. Maybe this was more smart-people gobbledygook. “Gray Lady?”
    Redford was looking intent, leaning forward on the couch. “You mean she’s the actual mother of all wolves? Was she the first? She must be incredibly old.”
    A very faint smile touched Randall’s lips. “It depends on who you ask. If you study the texts, the old stories of the Cano, it talks of a pair of wolves who were the first. Filtiarn and Liadan. They brought forth the first wolves. They started the first pack. But Liadan and her mate fought, and Filtiarn was cast out, taking his favored pack mates with him.”
    “And Líadan means gray lady in old Gaelic,” Victor injected helpfully.
    Now, Jed wasn’t much good at math. But even he knew that anyone claiming to have started the whole wolf line was getting far more than the senior’s discount at Denny’s. “That’s impossible,” he told them both bluntly. “It’s a scam, or someone who just really likes the name. But what you’re saying is that—”
    “What I’m saying,” Randall interjected mildly, “is that we are not human. And our lifespans are not yours. It’s impossible for you, yes, but I think you’d agree that the world is rather a lot bigger than what you’re assuming.”
    Baby goddamn Jesus. Jed sat then, trying to wrap his brain around everything. So, vampires were real, they didn’t die with garlic or silver knives, crazy ass wolves did die with silver knives, and both of them apparently could live forever. That was kind of a lot more than he’d been ready to handle today. Or ever.
    “You’re quiet, babe,” he murmured, nudging Redford with his foot. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”
    “Just absorbing new information,” Redford said lowly. He nudged Jed’s knee with his own, a silent let Randall keep talking .
    “I apologize,” Randall was saying, a frown pinching the corners of his lips. “This is a lot, I know. If I had anywhere else to go, I would.”
    “The history lesson is fascinating and all, but I’m still missing the part where you need to involve Red,” Jed said gruffly, eyes still on Redford.
    “Ah. Yes.” Randall shifted a bit, leaning forward. “I need to get help for Anthony. I need to get him back to the pack. The problem is, I don’t think the Gray Lady will let us in, because our parents left. There are rumors, though, that she is gathering up the remnants of Filtiarn’s pack, giving them refuge. While she won’t talk to me, I know she will talk to you. And you can be our ticket in to see her.”
    Redford shifted slightly, and Jed took care not to say anything to interrupt—the guy needed at least two seconds of silence to indicate that it was okay for him to talk. “Earlier, you said you’d explain why you couldn’t take Anthony to a hospital,” Redford pointed out. “That’s where most people go when they’re dying, isn’t it?”
    “Redford,” Randall started softly, before fading off into a sigh. “We’re not people,” he pointed out, deep-brown eyes flicking up to Redford before falling again. “Anthony has signs of Parkinson’s disease. The canine version.”
    Oh. Well, yeah, that probably would be fucking difficult to explain to your average Doogie Howser. Jed snorted softly, but he didn’t speak. He just reached out to take Redford’s hand, a silent show of support. This was his gig, his play. Jed was going to let him decide what they did.
    “So you want a ticket into the Gray Lady’s pack,” Redford said. “Because they have a hospital there for them? Or because you think they’ll know what to do?”
    Randall fidgeted a bit, hands fiddling with the side seam of his pants before he deliberately folded them together, trying to maintain his composure. “We weren’t