Leaving
Liam
Their mother was wearing his father’s old black bathrobe. The sight of the threadbare flannel reminded Liam of every family holiday and filled him with an overwhelming sense of sadness. His father had been gone fifteen years and his death was still like a hole in the pack and even more obviously in his mother’s heart.
“Do you think you can lead this pack better than I can?” she snarled. Aisling Grayson was tall and her hair was only beginning to take on the gray streaks that mimicked the color of her pelt as a wolf.
“No, Mom,” said Liam, trying to maintain his temper and keep his tone even. “I think I could use a little more help. That’s all I was saying.”
Paxton looked wide-eyed that Liam had even gone that far. Clearly, he hadn’t been around the last eight times they had argued.
“A little more help?” Aisling hissed. “You come home reeking of humans, wanting to hunt our food. How are you even a part of this pack? How do you even contribute? And you think you can lead them better than I can?”
Liam took a step back, trying to assess the best way forward. His mother was well beyond her usual grumpy attitude. She was mad. “How do I contribute? Never mind the pile of warlocks I’ve brought you over the last ten years, how about the fact that I can reset your damn Wi-Fi?”
He tried for a joke. Usually things got better if he could make her laugh. Paxton choked on a laugh and tried to smother it. But their mother grabbed a small piece of kindling off the stack and sent it spinning at Paxton’s head. Paxton snatched it out of the air, but looked pissed.
“Mom!” Liam was shocked.
“Now you’re telling me how to discipline my pack?” she demanded.
“I’m asking that you not throw things at my brother,” said Liam, trying to keep his temper.
“You don’t get to use that tone with me!” she barked, snatching up another piece of kindling and throwing it at him. Liam didn’t move to block it and it bounced off his chest with a stinging impact.
“Mom,” said Liam. “I’ve had this conversation with you before. I would like you to channel more resources into modernization. I’m not saying anything I haven’t said to your face. I’m not using a tone. The only thing I’m doing is telling you things you don’t want to hear.”
She growled, low and rumbling.
“Right,” said Liam. “Right. Because that’s your answer to everything—be more wolf. The world isn’t built for wolves, Mom, and unless we get out there and make it that way, it never will be. I love being a wolf, but it’s never going to be the only answer. We have to be human too.”
“Of course you think that. Being a human is the only thing you’re good at,” snapped Aisling. Liam wanted to be mad at about that. It hurt. He could never seem to measure up to whatever yardstick Aisling was using. But at the moment he couldn’t seem to work up the energy. He wanted to go home to Scarlet.
“I’m never going to be him, Mom,” said Liam.
“What?”
“I’m not Dad. I’m never going to be Dad. Whatever day you’re waiting on, where I magically turn into him, it’s not coming. One or the other of us is going to have to get over that. I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?” demanded Aisling.
“To bed,” said Liam, heading for the house.
“Maybe you should go back to the city!” she yelled after him.
“Maybe I should,” yelled Liam and slammed the backdoor.
“She doesn’t mean it,” said Uncle Marcus softly from the doorway of the kitchen.
“I keep telling myself that,” said Liam. “But it’s starting to sound like a lie.”
He went up to his room, intending to crawl into bed and stay there, but the moon was hanging low on the horizon and sliding through his window and a photo of his family from the last Christmas before his father’s death seemed to mock him from the dresser. Angrily, he pulled on some clothes and slammed his gear into his bag. Paxton came out of the kitchen as he came down the stairs.
“You’re not actually leaving, are you?” he demanded.
“Yeah, I am,” said Liam. “I’m mad and I’m not getting less mad. Bring me my meat once the dressing house is done with it, will you?”
“I don’t think you should go,” said Paxton.