“Hello, Kevin.”
“Hello, Rebecca. I'd ask what I can do for you, but I probably don't want to know.”
The redheaded werewolf settled herself across from him at the table. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Why? Surely you have something better to do with your time.”
She shrugged. “Duayne's meeting me here for supper, and you look like you're waiting. Maybe we can talk until then?”
He sighed. “I'll have a drink with you, but I'll get my own, thanks.”
Copper-maned Sonja of Coven Winter came over, expression uneasy while she took orders—a refill on Kevin's ginger ale and a Bloody Mary for Rebecca.
“Relax, Sonja. We won't wreck anything,” Kevin assured her. “Tomas bawling me out once for it was enough for me. If we're going to fight we'll go outside.”
“Don't fight at all,” Sonja retorted. Her irregularly-cycling psychic gifts had her telepathy reasonably high at the moment—she flashed him a wordless image of her and her witch coven-mate Nick stepping in to back him up no matter what, followed by their healer coven-mate Liam scolding them all while repairing the damage, and her and Nick looking for new jobs.
“I didn't mean it literally. I have no intentions of starting a fight.” What Rebecca might intend was another matter, but it was highly unlikely she'd use anything but words.
Which were far, far worse. Why could he never seem to just walk away from her, even knowing that? Masochism?
Sonja regarded him measuringly for a heartbeat or two, then spun away to get back to work. Kevin decided to take that as meaning she believed him: not a given with everyone in Haven, but a reasonably safe bet in this case.
He had no doubt, though, that she and Nick would be keeping surreptitious watch in this direction. Nor that Tomas, who owned the Brewery and had been Kevin's teacher in magic, would be watching as well, though the reason would probably differ. Nor that others in sight would keep a wary eye out for any hint of anger. Haven remembered what he'd just as soon forget.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair, apparently completely relaxed. “So. How's your foundling doing?”
“In another couple of months he may be able to come to Haven unshielded without pain. He doesn't remember any of it, luckily. Which means we can take our time explaining about Haven without throwing him into shock. Are you happy that Gisela and I barely managed to save his life? And that he may have permanent damage that will never heal?” Although I did the worst of the damage, really. Once again, she got me to hurt someone who didn't deserve it.
She shrugged. “He's nothing special. His whole lifestyle appears to be built around breaking laws and avoiding being caught for it. I was curious about him when I found out he was still alive, and asked Duayne to see what else he could find out for me. Would you like to know?”
“No. Anything Jesse wants us to know he'll tell us himself.”
“What if he's a threat to your coven?”
“In what way? He wouldn't deliberately...” He caught himself mid-sentence.
“Wouldn't he?”
“No. He wouldn't. I won't say he doesn't have the potential to turn into a control freak, if and when he knows what he can do, but he'll have Bane and Eva to teach him. With any luck, he won't end up insecure and messed up like some wolves I know.”
The low rumble that came from deep in her throat didn't sound like threat, more like annoyance; despite it, she smiled, showing pointed canines that were barely longer than their neighbours. “You're so cute when you say rude things to try to keep me at arm's length. Like a puppy growling and showing his milk teeth.” She took a delicate sip of her drink as Sonja set it on the table; her eyes, two-tone like most wolves, velvet blue with a tawny starburst around the pupil, never left his.
“Maybe I say rude things because they're what you deserve.”
“You didn't used to think that.”
“No, and at that point, I was also pleased with myself for beating Flynn up. He's forgiven me for that but I haven't and possibly never will. So, y'know, it's a whole way of looking at the world that I think I'm better off without.”
“What a waste. A phoenix in a wicker cage playing at being a canary, and careful every instant to keep the cage intact. All for the sake of jealous pigeons and sparrows.”
“It's better than being the hawk that preys on them.” He'd heard her use variants of the analogy many times, and it was never comfortable; it struck too close to his own feelings at moments. “Isn't it lonely, Becky? With no one to trust or love or share with? No one as an equal, only rivals and subordinates?”
“I had an equal once. You left.”
“You didn't want a partner. You didn't want me. You wanted the strongest mage in Haven who was still young enough to be manipulated. Not Kevin.”
“You're so sure of that.”
He looked away, disturbed by the intensity of her gaze. No, where she was concerned, he was never entirely certain of anything and never could be again. All he could do was pretend he had steady ground to stand on, though. “I'm sure of your mind-games. Rebecca, it's over. It has been over for something like two years, which is a lot longer than it even lasted. What I'd like is for you to live your life and stay out of mine, and leave Jesse alone. That's all I ask. I really think you should leave before Deanna comes.”
Rebecca shoved back her chair abruptly and got to her feet, the growl much deeper now and her eyes narrowing, hands curling into claws.
“Have it your way. Have fun with your new pet. If you end up being sorry you ever let him in your house, it'll be your own fault.” She took a swallow of her drink, left it there half-empty, and departed.
He heard Deanna's cheerful greetings to Nick and a handful of other friends before Sonja could take the glass; her smile vanished instantly, muscles tightening visibly across her shoulders. “Rebecca's been here.”
“Been and gone,” Kevin said wearily. “And I think I've lost my appetite.”
“Come on, then. We can have supper some other night. Let's go home.” Her hand on his shoulder spoke worlds of sympathy and understanding, to him. “Don't pay any attention to whatever lies she was weaving this time. Rebecca always lies.”
* * *
“You and Deanna came in awfully early last night,” Bane commented, matching strides with Kevin easily as they walked down the country road. “Weren't you going out for supper?”
“Rebecca found me, first, while I was waiting.”
Bane winced sympathetically. “That would ruin my appetite, too. That explains why you've been so down all day when I've seen you around classes. Let it go, Kev.”
“It isn't that easy,” Kevin said shortly. “Even knowing her as well as I do, some of what she said I can't get out of my head.”
“Tell me?”
“Just... nothing.”
“About Jesse?”
“I'd rather not. You're already not sure you want him here.”
“You think I'd chase him off because of something Rebecca said? Please, phoenix. Give me some credit.”
Kevin was quiet for a time. “She said Jess is a threat, that he's broken a lot of laws, and we'll regret letting him in the house.”
“We agreed already, what Jess does outside of Haven is his own, only what he does here matters. As unsure of him as I am, I can see the sense in that.” He laughed. “Until the day he decides he wants my place as alpha wolf, anyway.”
“I thought you didn't believe he'd ever be able to shapechange.”
“I don't, but with Flynn and Gisela both so insistent, I pretty much have to concede the possibility that I might be wrong. And, honestly, for his sake I'm beginning to hope that I am. I'll give him that, that his behaviour on his second visit was a vast improvement over the way he acted when he first came. He might be worth the effort after all.”
Peace for a time, simply enjoying the company and the winter road.
Somewhere, a wolf howled, and was immediately answered by other voices, at first from the same direction, then from farther away. Bane took a deep breath, and added his voice to the mix. Kevin listened, faintly amused, but appreciating the wild beauty of the song. At least once or twice a week this happened, and no wolf who could possibly join in ever stayed silent; given that there were over a hundred werewolves in Haven, it could become quite a chorus. The density did cause stresses that some wolves coped with better than others, but those who could said there were good parts to it. Like this.
Bane had told him once it was to mark their territory and warn the predators to stay away; Kevin suspected that while that might be true, they actually did it mostly for fun.
A strand at a time, it faded away, down to a couple of voices, then one, then silence.
“Aren't you supposed to do that at full moons?” Kevin teased.
“Aren't you supposed to wear green and live under a hill?” Bane retorted.
“Good hills are getting scarce these days, and I'm an elf, not Robin Hood.”
Still teasing each other, they resumed their interrupted walk homeward, and Kevin stopped thinking about Rebecca. Mostly.