Page 93 of Forget Me Not

Cal snorted, then took a sip of his coffee. “This is perfect.” He crooked his finger until Ray bent down, then he rubbed his nose against Ray’s cheek so tenderly Ray almost blushed. “It’s nothing scary, I promise,” he assured Ray, whispering. “Aside from all this, I never see her, so I want to spend time with her. And, well, you and my dad both like to work instead of dealing with things, and he needs time to recover so…” He gestured toward the room at large. “She is giving you both some space to process, which is more than generous, at least in his case.”

“He smells upset,” Ray confided back, equally quiet.

Instead of smirking or gloating, Cal sighed. “Don’t worry about that, either. It’s his own fault, nearly getting himself killed without ever having seen her again.”

Ray frowned. “He almost bought her candy this morning. Pastilles. The violet kind.”

“Violets?” Cal stared over at his father, then nuzzled Ray again. Ray could almost taste his smile. “Thank you, sweetwolf. We’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” He gave Ray a quick peck and then allowed his mother to lead him away into the kitchen.

“Sweetwolf?” Ray stared after Cal, then downed his coffee in a few gulps, ignoring the burn.

He finally turned to Calvin, who was back to staring into his cup. Ray moved farther away from the kitchen, where Lis was lecturing Cal on pantry staples and Cal was defensively explaining that neither he nor Ray had the time or inclination to cook or bake.

Over a decade apart, possibly closer to two—Ray should ask Cal for specifics later—and today, Calvin and Lis had only seen each other again because Calvin could have been shot, and Cal had decided to punish his father for it. If thiswaspunishment. Ray wasn’t sure how he would view it, in Calvin’s place.

“You didn’t have to step in front of me,” Ray remarked, keeping his voice low. Calvin raised his head. Ray frowned as the memory came back to him. “I might’ve been all right.”

Calvin gave him a frown right back. “You would’ve gotten up. Because you’re you. They had guns in a room with bystanders, teenagers. You would’ve stood up so they would be focused on you and not those kids. And you probably would’ve taken a few bullets before you got to them, and werewolf or not, you aren’t well and that might have done it for you. And meanwhile, after you reached them, with you in that state, they might have ended up dead, or seriously injured, and every being in Los Cerros would have suffered because of that. You would be dead, and my son would…” Calvin stopped. “I know you don’t have any in the house, but if there was ever a time for booze in one’s coffee.” He stopped again. “You weren’t altogether in your right mind and it was a matter of seconds.”

Ray thought there was a bottle of something alcoholic in the fridge, but also that it was green, and also he didn’t know why it was there. Regardless, he was pretty sure it didn’t belong in coffee. “You thought of all that?”

“I…” Calvin ran a hand over his head. “I didn’t actually, until afterward. At the time, I just, stupidly, thought they were mistaken. That I could help. I’m probably going to have nightmares tonight. I haven’t had a gun pointed anywhere near me in at least fifteen years. Maybe longer.”

“Do you still have yours?” Ray wondered. Calvin gave him another sharp look. Ray gestured toward his desk and the drawer where every night he put away the gun he was required to carry. He had never used it except for his qualification tests. “You didn’t need protection before. You might now. I don’t have body armor, not here. Penn might, but I don’t think it would fit you.”

Calvin glanced toward the kitchen, then focused more intently on Ray. “Day three and you’re preparing for that?”

Ray did not allow himself a glance in that same direction. “I think I was already thinking of it, before this happened. And now it’s like Cassandra said, I’m primed, but I haven’t done what I am supposed to do. People are trying to make it happen, like the bomb squad attempting a contained explosion. But that explosion could happen at any moment.” Like a grenade with the pin removed, waiting for the person holding it to let go. “They are ready for the worst. I should be too.”

“I doubt those younger officers even knew who I was.” Calvin continued to frown. “Ray… when something shocking happens, the natural tendency is to get anxious and vigilant, overprepare.”

“Calvin,” Ray said, carefully, while Cal’s mother explained protein-packed oatmeal balls, whatever those were, to her son, “you and I both know what they’re capable of, even when they aren’t—possibly—following the orders of someone higher up, or richer, or more powerful.”

Calvin finally took a drink. Then he looked away. “It’s not enough to be a ‘good one,’ to work hard to make sure you can stay, so that you can fight for who you’re supposed to be fighting for. They won’t let you. All my effort undone by a few seconds in a comics shop.”

“You would have done it for anyone. It’s why you shine, and why half the village stops to watch you, even now. They could tell.” Ray reconsidered the green liquor in the fridge. Calvin did look like he could use it, or at least some sugar. “It’s also why the danger to you might continue, even after I… This isn’t going to end well.”

Calvin jerked back, then got to his feet, coffee droplets hitting his hand. He got into Ray’s space and stared up at him for a long time. “You weren’t in the bedroom that long. You were supposed to be sleeping in there. Couldn’t let your mind rest? You’re as bad as Cal.”

“Fairies choose fairies,” Ray answered, although he would never have said anything like it only a few days ago.

Calvin blinked and then stared at Ray some more. “You would’ve done it too, in my place,” he said at last.

In all likelihood, Ray would have, but he shook his head because the situation was different. “I have less to fear from bullets than you.”

Calvin narrowed his eyes. “As if what was done to you wasn’t just a slower version of a bullet.”

Ray dragged in a long breath. “Which reminds me,” his voice wasn’t even, but he didn’t bother to fix it with only Calvin for an audience, “there are things I need to look over, while I have the energy to.”

He left Calvin to his rapidly cooling coffee and went to the closet in the hall, where he’d seen a small fireproof safe on his initial search of the house. It was the sort of safe people used to hold important personal papers.

He spent several moments staring at the combination lock, then remembered Cal was probably supposed to be able to get into the safe as needed, and sighed as he went to ask Calvin when Cal’s birthdate was.

This time, Calvin put down his coffee and followed Ray back down the hall, but he watched Ray open the safe without comment. Ray’s father’s watch was inside, along with a pouch that Ray would bet was waterproof. The pouch was full of papers; Ray’s city college transcripts, Academy diploma and certifications, paperwork related to his pension, house and car insurance, the deed to the house, bonds someone had given Ray has a child that he’d never cashed in because the effort to do so was a pain, assorted other documents of a serious, practical nature.

He pulled out the ones he was currently interested in, looked them over to be sure his hunch was right, then handed them, one at a time, to Calvin.

Calvin reached for his reading glasses. He scanned the papers quickly, then again, slower, stopping once to lift up a sticky note left on one of them.

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