Page 12 of Flock Around and Find Out (Flocking It Up #3)

“I can’t believe you actually showed up.”

Porter peered at me as though he had no idea what I meant. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than make sure my mom’s cat takes her medicine?”

“I find your family oddly calming. It was a small thing, and Molly does require the medication.” He offered a rare, slight smile. “Also, I got to run into you here.”

“Don’t try for charm. It doesn’t fit you. Besides, I’m not here to flirt. I needed to ask you something.”

“Last I checked, we have phones.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to ask on the phone.”

“No? Well then, I’m certainly curious.”

I rolled my eyes, even though I doubted he meant it the way Kelvin would, saying the same thing. “Why don’t you come with me? I know a great vegan place. Well, I mean, great for vegan food. It’s vegan, so there’s only so much you can do.”

He huffed softly at my rambling, but nodded. “Sure.”

Twenty minutes later, we were seated at the little place that my mom had told me about when she’d gone on a vegan stint. The smells were delicious, and they tended toward a fusion of Thai and Indian food, with lots of curry. I figured that was on purpose.

Make a sauce tasty enough and no one cared if you filled the rest of the plate with rice and veggies.

We ordered before Porter looked expectantly across the table. “What was it that you wanted to ask?”

I tried to consider how to phrase it. “Well, we have a little bit of a lead with the whole Were thing, but I need to know about any rituals the Natures might do or used to do?”

“Rituals?”

“Yeah. Like, I don’t know, dancing naked under the moonlight.”

And boy did mentioning that get me thinking of Porter doing exactly that. He was lithe and cute, so I imagined he would look quite good like that. He’d appear almost ethereal out there, like he didn’t quite belong in the forest, too delicate, but the moonlight would shine off him, reflected again outward.

Oh, fuck, I could get behind that sort of ritual.

“We don’t do that,” he said.

“Could you maybe try it?”

His expression didn’t break or change, as though he had no idea what I meant or that I was blatantly coming on to him.

It made me again realize he was frustratingly na?ve. Which was weird, as sex was totally a part of nature. I’d seen wildlife documentaries, I saw what the animals did in them! They were freaky and they did it anywhere they damned well wanted. Sex was probably one of the most natural things a person could do.

Of course, saying that out loud made me feel like my mom that time she found porn on my brother’s computer after he’d fallen asleep with the videos still going.

Guess he was rather content afterward…

She’d sat there and told him how natural it was as his age, and I could have died from the second-hand embarrassment.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I knocked over a glass of water just to help him escape it.

“I’m talking about things you did as a clan, maybe that you used to do. A certain ritual, or prayer, or offering?”

He had a while to think, since the server walked out with our bowls of food, setting them before us. It took him all that time—and a few bites—before he answered.

“I’m not sure.”

“ Really? I figured you all would be ritual-ed out.”

“What I mean is that while other clans turned their backs on the idea of old gods, while they distanced themselves from who they once were, we are different. We have always clung to those old ways, to understanding our place in the world. Many things that we do might be considered ritualistic. We are most closely bound to the energy that runs through the earth, after all.”

I took another bite of my food—and yeah, it was good enough I didn’t miss the meat a bit, though they could have gone a lot lighter on the carrots—as I considered his point.

It was true. While the other clans had struggled with each other, always trying to gain more, to climb higher, to move away from whatever primitiveness they’d had before, the Natures had reveled in that side of themselves. They’d never wanted to change it, to be different, to distance themselves from their roots.

Did that mean that this would never befall them?

It might also explain why Porter could so easily sense the corrupted energy, because he had none of his own?

“So you believe that this is the reason for the strays that have appeared in the Were clan? That they have somehow moved away from the source of their energy, and that has caused the energy to grow ill?”

“It’s my best guess. I found an old book that explained when it happened to others—well, I mean, to be fair it was a fable—but given when that wereraven said, it makes sense, right? We know that it’s happened before, to other clans, and it seems to be affected the Weres all over the place, so it has to be something other than a normal sickness or we’d be able to track it.”

“Do you have any idea about what ritual the Weres used to do?”

“Galen said that a long time ago, like centuries, they used to go on pilgrimages to somewhere special. It was to appease the old gold. It fell out of fashion, though, and they don’t do it anymore.”

“So you’ll try that?”

“That’s the plan, if we can figure out where it is. There’s a very old weretiger who might know, so we’re going to question him in a couple days.”

Porter nodded, his hands folded together, his gaze distant. “Some of those places…” he said softly, then paused.

“What?”

His gaze moved to me. “I don’t know exactly where the Weres went, mind you, but I have my suspicions. You see, Natures understand there are places that are not fully here, in this realm. We understand the ties between the different energies better than many others. We are, in many ways, the most closely connected to this place. If the Weres went to commune with the old gods, with the source of the old powers, then they would have gone to one of those old places, the ones that are not fully here but not fully elsewhere, either. They’re dangerous, and even we don’t venture there without purpose and without a guide.”

“We don’t know where it was, though. Maybe it was just down the street, in like, Billy’s basement?” I pictured Weres making some long pilgrimage just to find themselves waved toward the basements steps by some guy in a white tank top, holding a beer.

I wasn’t sure how I’d react to that, personally. It’d probably be pretty disappointing.

Porter shook his head. “Those ancient places are few and far between. Or perhaps they are all one place with different doors? It’s hard to say. I would say don’t venture there if you can avoid it, however.”

“Why? It’s just energy.”

“We are all just energy.”

“Are you telling me you believe in the old gods stuff?”

He had the decency to think about it for a long moment, as though considering it. Finally, he answered. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one, but I also don’t believe myself so great that I think it impossible, that I think we are the most powerful beings around. I can tell you that something lives in those old places, perhaps things we are not yet wise enough to fully comprehend. If you go there, Grey, tread lightly. What dwells there is like nothing you have faced so far.”

Talk about ominous…

* * * *

Private planes aren’t that bad.

I, like most people, had bitched and moaned about others’ use of such frivolous travel. I mean, a private plane? What the fuck was that? It was pretentious nonsense.

But fuck was it comfortable pretentious nonsense…

Only Galen, the pilot and myself were on the plane, so no service, but that was fine. We’d gotten to the small, private airport that flew out of Yucca Valley early in the morning, and the process to get off the ground was easy and quick.

A hell of a lot more convenient than when I’d flow commercially, when they’d packed me into that plane like a can of those cocktail weenies, bumped my seat each time the attendant rolled the cart around and lost my luggage.

Sure, private planes weren’t good for the environment, but I could finally see the appeal.

Galen had been tense, still, less like himself than usual. He’d said little, bringing his laptop to work on during the long flight. We had a few layovers for refueling, but the Spirits seemed to know how to get around government interference because we had no problem slipping past the borders and going where we wanted.

“Have you heard from the Mind Clan?” I asked, keeping my voice casual, as though that were a totally normal question that made perfect sense and was not in the least bit telling or suspicious.

Yet Galen took that opportunity to shut his laptop, as though settling in for a long talk.

So not that subtle, huh?

“Not much.”

“Are we sure that the Clan Head is good? Like, he didn’t get kidnapped by a nymph or something, right?” I laughed as though this didn’t matter at all.

“I’ve gotten word that people have seen him out and about, so no, nothing terrible has happened to him.”

Which meant he still just didn’t want to see or hear from me.

I’d figured as much, but actually hearing it hurt more than I wanted to admit. I hated the idea that he was so angry with me that he would ignore me like that, that he’d completely fall out of my life.

I’d thought we were closer than that, had started to really rely on him.

Funny how things turned out.

“Sometimes it just takes time,” Galen offered, his voice gentle. It took away most of that unease he’d carried, like if he focused on my problems his didn’t seem so bad.

Good to know I’m useful for something.

“Are you sure? Come on, be honest. There are lines I could cross that you couldn’t forgive me for. Things I could do that you’d never be able to look at me the same way again.” When it looked as though he’d argue, I interrupted him. “ Really think about it. What about if I betrayed your pack? If you really have no limits, then you’re not in love—you’re just a doormat who doesn’t mind getting walked all over. I don’t want that, either.”

He gave himself time to think. “How about we say that I know you well enough that if you did something—even something that felt unforgivable—you likely had a good reason. I believe I wouldn’t feel the way I do about you if you were the kind of person to do something that terrible.”

I slumped back in the comfortable leather seat. “That feels a bit na?ve, doesn’t it? How do you think people end up in abusive relationships?”

Galen shrugged. “Maybe you won’t ever understand Weres, really, but we are fairly simple. I believe that instinct wouldn’t pair me with you if you were so terrible as to do something like that.”

I blew out a long breath. “But what if I did? What if I killed someone you loved?” I spat the question out so fast that I slapped my hand over my mouth, as though that could keep it in.

It didn’t, of course.

Galen’s expression held pity, and I regretted my words immediately. He knew what had happened—I’d told him that night, after all, when I’d still been out of my mind from the fear and anxiety and everything else.

I hadn’t breathed a word of it since, however. Hadn’t told him how it kept me up at night, how I had nightmares about what I’d had to do to Harrison’s brother, how I feared he’d never forgive me for it.

I hated how pathetic I felt about it all, how logically I knew I’d made the only logical choice. No matter how much he loved his brother, I couldn’t allow him to kill us both. It wasn’t just saving my own life—it was saving Harrison’s.

Given the silence from him, however, and the clearly intentional avoidance of me, I had to think it wasn’t something he could get over quite so easily.

“You did what you had to do, Grey.” Galen using my name went to show just how serious he was about it. “You made the right choice.”

“Is it the right choice if it hurts someone else like this? If I lose someone I care about, was it really the right choice?”

“It was the only choice.”

“I’m not so sure. Harrison held off for so long because he thought he could save him. What if he was right? What if I had given Harrison the time and he could have talked sense into his brother? What if I robbed him of that?”

Galen set his computer aside and moved to the seat next to mine. He slung his arm over my shoulder, only a slight hesitation before crossing the barrier. It seemed me being upset was worth him overcoming whatever was getting to him. “You can drive yourself mad with what-ifs, but you know that you did what you needed to. No, don’t interrupt me, just listen for once.”

“Don’t get all ‘do what I say’ with me,” I argued weakly. “I only follow directions in bed.”

“Well, try here for something new. The reality is that you had to make a choice, and you made the right one. You picked two lives over one. You would have backed down if he’d given you the option, but he didn’t, so you had to respond. I know it wasn’t what you wanted. If you were some monster, it wouldn’t bother you this much, still. That proves that you did it because you had to.”

His words were like cool water on a burn. It helped ease the sting, at least for a moment, but I knew the moment I turned it off, as soon as I moved away, that burn would start hurting again. It would heal—all things did—but it was going to take a while longer and hurt like hell in the meantime.

“What if he never forgives me?” I whispered, leaning into Galen, feeling an odd sense of safety here. He really had that responsible, I’ll take care of it vibe going, didn’t he?

“Then it’s his loss. I won’t tell you that he will, because unlike him, I’m no mind reader. He might decide to hold onto this grudge forever because blaming you is easier than blaming himself, or accepting that some things can’t be changed.” Galen paused, then spoke softly. “I know a little something about that. See, back when I’d first turned into a werewolf, I had struggled with letting go of my human life, my human family. There is this difficult transition that happens, where because we don’t age, we have to distance ourselves from those who would recognize the fact. It doesn’t happen the day we change, but it does eventually need to occur. I held on longer than most, however, trying to hide the fact I didn’t change while my siblings and friends all grew old. Well, I ended up having my little sister stop by unexpectantly one night—a full moon. She caught sight of a few Weres changing into their wolf forms.” He sighed, as though the weight of the memory was incredibly heavy. “She was never quite right again. She didn’t mention what happened, didn’t tell anyone, but she only made it another three years before she took her own life. At first, I blamed the pack, blamed anyone I could find. It was easier to do that than recognize that I should have cut ties well before, and that not everything is within our control. I hope that Harrison realizes it too, but if he doesn’t?” Galen squeezed me tighter against his side. “You’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed, but it was nice to hear.