“We need to find the others,” Stone agreed. “We find them, we’ll find our answers. But it isn’t just the two of us anymore.”
“Three?” Claire asked, still slightly addled, but starting to come around. “It’s the three of us, isn’t it? And when you get Cleo it’ll be four.”
Fury cracked a grin, and kissed her one last time before gathering up the sheet and kicking the remains of the bed they’d shared into disarray. She turned, but Stone caught her arm in his steel grasp. His eyes, entrancing, dangerous, intense, bore into her soul.
“Three of us,” he growled. “You’re ours, we’re yours. I don’t know what it means,” he took a breath. “But I do know it’s real. That much, I’m sure of, if nothing else.”
-7-
“Why do people insist on wearing so many clothes all the time?”
-King
“Why is it that nothing I do seems to make any sense?” King was standing in front of the open bay windows facing the small-ish back yard with his robe flapping open in the breeze.
“Doing that right there makes sense,” Rogue added. “Feels good to breathe fresh air. You better quit before Jill gets back though. She gets all bent out of shape every time I go out into the hot tub without any clothes on. Something about regular people not wanting to see each other naked all the time.”
With a look of confusion on his face, King took a sip of coffee. He quickly replaced the confused look with one of being overwhelmed by bitterness, and sputtered for a moment before taking another drink. “This is awful,” he said.
“If it’s so awful why do you keep drinking it? Hell, at least put some cream in it or something. You know, I saw on one of those TV shows where someone calls himself ‘Dr. Firstname’ that cream doesn’t have any carbs.”
“So?”
“So you don’t have to worry about getting fat off it. Then again, you keep drinking Steel Reserve pints like you have been, and not much is going to stop that.”
King considered this solemnly for a few moments. “I like the way it makes my head feel like I’ve been running in a circle for an hour.”
Rogue snorted a laugh. “Remember when you used to lecture me about taking my little jaunts into human towns and drinking their beer? At least the ones I drank were good. That stuff isn’t much different from turpentine.”
A couple of seconds passed, again in silence, before either of the bears decided to speak again. “I’m worried about them,” King finally said, admitting what Rogue already knew. “This isn’t the way our kind is meant to live. Not the way we’re meant to be.”
Rogue inhaled deeply. This wasn’t new subject matter, but it never stopped being a sticking point between the two alphas. This time, Rogue didn’t say anything. He just watched his sworn brother’s face, studying him.
“This world,” King continued. “High ways, cars, motorcycles, Steel Reserve, and loud music.”
Rogue wanted to point out how old and out of touch King sounded, but somehow he managed to bite his tongue. If there was one thing he’d learned in the past few months of learning to live in close proximity to two other people, it was when to yap and when to shut his damn mouth.
“We’re out of place. Don’t you feel it? Even you with your love for all things human and worldly, must feel at least a little tug on your heart?”
“Well,” Rogue said, taking a sip of his own coffee, which was heavily laden with cream and not at all bitter, “some things, sure. I miss the quiet, I miss going out into the middle of nowhere and listening to the bats and the birds and the night-things go about their business. But what we gain from being here? I—”
“I know,” King cut him off. “Jill, the cubs’ safety. I can’t help but feel though as if something’s missing. Some vital part of me is gone and quickly being forgotten. Things I don’t want forgotten.”
There wasn’t much to say, at least not without really being irritating, so it was lucky for Rogue that right as the tension was starting to mount, the familiar rumble of Jill’s old Blazer turned both huge heads.
“This is worth forgetting the traditions, don’t you think?” Rogue said. “Knowing that we’ll have a future?”
As the back door swung open and slapped against the brick, King nodded. “It has to be,” he said with a half grin. “And I think it does.”
“Slate! Arrow!” Jill barked at the two cubs. She still hadn’t let them live down their legendary hangovers. And, she still hadn’t gotten over calling Arrow “Grant”, which she happily admitted she probably never would. “Bring all that stuff inside. We’ll split it up in a little bit.”