Page 24 of Bitter Heat
Kerry lay on his side in his bed, his entire abdomen aching like a very strong man had punched him repeatedly, and his thighs quaking in exhaustion. He should be asleep, but he couldn’t seem to slip down into it. After gingerly tossing around for a while, he’d crept from his bed, retrieved Kiwi, and then climbed back beneath the covers. The bird now hopped between his headboard, his head and his shoulders, sometimes fluttering her wings and taking flight around the candlelit room.
Eventually, she went back into her cage on her own, tired out. She tucked her head beneath her wing and went to sleep. And still, Kerry couldn’t follow her down. He didn’t know if he was afraid to dream, or if he just wanted to hear more of Janus and Pater’s conversation drifting up from the living room downstairs.
With his door left open so he could call down if necessary, every syllable was audible, all echo-y and disembodied, but still clear. He didn’t know if the other two men knew he was listening, but he didn’t have the desire—or voice—left to tell them.
“He helps omegas lose their babies?” Janus said again. Teacups rattled, and there was a crunch of someone biting into a cookie. Kerry’s stomach growled, but he didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to breathe either, but he couldn’t control that.
“Most omegas on this mountain agree that Fan is an agent of good, or rather, he readily accepts that death is a necessity at times,” Pater said grimly. “He’s inconsolably childless, and some say that in his bitterness he takes a mite too much pleasure in helping others losing their sons, too. But that’s a cruel lie. Truly, he takes on the burden of this work because he knows that if he doesn’t, someone else will, and they might not take such care. I’m astonished that he believed Kerry would come home to me.”
“Does Kerry make a habit of lying?”
Kerry winced. Was that what Janus thought of him now?
“Of course not!” Ah, Pater to the rescue of his tattered reputation. Never mind that it was as good as ruined to Janus now.
Janus cleared his throat. “Then I understand why he’d let Kerry go. He assumed he was honest and had no reason to believe differently. Plus, Fan knew I was staying here. I’m sure he thought if there was going to be any real trouble, I could handle it.”
That’s exactly right, Kerry thought. And Janushadhandled it, hadn’t he? No thanks to Kerry’s insane scheme to miscarry in the forest, though.
At the time, when he’d made his decision, it’d seemed right—natural. A wolf goes into heat; a wolf gives birth in the woods. Not that he was a wolf, of course. He was as human as anyone else. But wolf-god had made humans in his image, and at his bidding, they had become alpha and omega and reproduced. Kerry had imagined wolf-god would comfort him there amongst the trees and dirt. He’d thought he’d feel safe and in the palm of wolf-god’s hand there.
And truthfully, hehadbeen comforted. At first. Until the pain had grown so great that he’d passed out and then woken to it again. Until he’d screamed in agony, higher-pitched than he’d known he could achieve. Until he’d sobbed in Janus’s lap like an abandoned child.
Wolf-god, what had he been thinking?
Kerry was lucky Janus had found him. He’d have never made it home on his own, and lying in his blood in the forest, even down by the lake with the cats and their cubs about, would have been foolish beyond the telling of it. Food for the predators. Wilbet was right. Hewasan utter idiot.
Downstairs, Janus cleared his throat again, this time proudly. “And Ididhandle it.”
Oh, great. Alpha posturing. Kerry would roll his eyes if he didn’t find Janus’s puffed up comment comforting in a way. He couldn’t help but remember how firm Janus’s hands had been on his body—both by the lake and in his room—and how kind, too. Many alphas would have been enraged by what he’d done. But Janus, despite his citified ways, had taken it in stride and held strong and steady. Like an alpha should. Like Wilbet never had.
Kerry closed his eyes, listening more closely for Janus’s tenor voice, noting a curious, warm sensation inside. A kind of calm heaven that seemed to wash over him with each syllable Janus spoke. Though perhaps that was only the poppy-based tablet that Janus had given to calm him finally kicking in.
Janus went on, “Does Dr. Crescent know? About Fan’s side business?”
“It’s not a business,” Pater hastened to clarify to the chorus of their teacups rattling in saucers. “He takes no money for it. He considers it a grim duty, a harsh kindness. And yes, Dr. Crescent knows, but he pretends not to. It’s safer for everyone that way. He even attended a few that went awry, and despite being told Fan had given the omega abortifacient pills, he acted as though it was just any other miscarriage. Some of our local alphas don’t like it, but Dr. Crescent is strong enough to keep them in check.”
“I see.”
“I wouldn’t bring this up to ’im,” Pater warned. “You’re like as not to get a cuff to the ear as any kind of response you’d actually like. He won’t have you endangering his omega.”
“Of course not.” Janus was silent a moment. “And Fan? If I talked to him?”
“He might play coy,” Pater assessed. “He’s more open with betas and omegas than with alphas. But he knows you a bit and trusts you. Or so I’m assuming since he hasn’t advised Crow to kick ya back yonder to the city. If you don’t come across as threatenin’, Fan might talk to you about it some. But then again, he might not. It is Kerry’s private business, after all.”
There was a long silence, and not even the sound of teacups in saucers interrupted it. Finally, Janus asked, “This may be presumptuous to ask, but I need to know. Why? Why would Kerry take this course of action when life is so precious and necessary?”
“That’s a tale for Kerry to relate, priesty. But he has his reasons. Dark and painful ones, to be sure. While I didn’t approve of his choice today, I understood.”
“How?”
Pater sighed heavily. “Like I said the other morn, he’s contracted to an alpha. And well, lad, he’s a mean ’un. Rotten to the core. There’s not much else to say about it that I’d feel right comfortable telling. It’s Kerry’s story to gift to ya if he ever trusts ya enough. Not mine.”
Janus seemed to take that well enough, not pressing for more. Kerry listened harder, trying to catch any movements. His eyelids dragged down, heavy and tired, and he finally rested them, letting the world fall black. He still reached with his ears though, and now, too, with his nose, seeking something, though he didn’t know quite what.
Then he found it: roses, lemon, and pine—Janus’s scent.
Kerry sorted it through carefully, impressed with himself that he’d found it from all the way upstairs. He’d never truly enjoyed Wilbet’s scent, and therefore never tested the limits of an omega’s wolf-god-given gift of scenting another man. But finding Janus wasn’t even hard. There was a new, different, slightly damp smell about him, too. Maybe lingering water from the lake or his bath. Perhaps both.
