Blood & Water

Prologue

Saturday 

A cloud of sooty smoke rises from the burning motorcycle in the ditch. The unconscious man stretched out at my mother's feet moans hoarsely. A steaming pool of blood melts the snow beneath his head, but she pays no attention to him. Cursing, she tosses the red-stained iron rod into the trunk of her SUV and turns to face me.

Blood trickles down her neck, into the matted tangles of hair that touch her shoulders. Her left eye is swollen and bloodshot. I see the slap coming a mile away, but the force that knocks my head to the side takes me by surprise. I brace myself, but she just points at the car.

"Get in, Conor. Now."

I slump down in the back seat, my eyes on the grazed knuckles of my right hand. They're badly bruised and messed up, but thanks to my shapeshifter-blood they'll probably heal soon.

She slams the door shut with enough force to rattle the window, and turns the key in the ignition. Her fingers tremble as she wipes tears and dirt from her bloodstained cheeks. I can't remember the last time my mother cried in front of me, let alone slapped my face. She usually lets my stepfather play the role of disciplinarian.

After a half-hour drive in total silence, we pull into the driveway. Covered in a thick layer of snow, the house looks like a gingerbread cottage with glowing windows. My mother stops the car and gets out. She disappears inside without so much as a backward glance.

The temperature is dropping fast. Even so, I'm hanging back. The car is freezing, but it's still a better option than facing my stepfather. Twenty minutes later, my fingers are numb from the cold. Another five, and Ruadh comes out the front door. My heart rate speeds up as he approaches the car and taps his knuckles against the window.

I step out into the sleet with my head down, unsure whether to make eye contact. My stepfather seems calm, but that doesn't mean much. Most likely he's pissed as hell, but the pack leader doesn't lose his cool in front of a punk kid. His tone is flat as he nods towards the house. 

"Let's go, son."

I follow him along the snowy garden path, onto the porch. My boots leave a muddy trail on the hallway floor. Ruadh walks into the kitchen and pulls up a chair at the table. We both know the drill; this isn't our first late-night talk. I sit down opposite him, on the edge of my seat. I'd rather not go first, but there's one question I need to ask.

"Is mom ok?"

Ruadh frowns at me.

"She's had a rough night. It's best she gets some rest. Craig will stop by later," he adds in a slightly firmer tone. "I need to get his take on what happened in Rainy Shallows. Also, he wants a word about you wrecking his motorcycle."

I look down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood.

"Didn't know it was his."

"That's not the point. You're fourteen, son. You had no business messing around with it in the first place."

"Right," I mumble, still avoiding his gaze. "Be right back. Bathroom."

Ruadh doesn't blink.

"Show me your pockets."

I hold my breath for a second before reaching into my jeans. A bag of pills full of false promises lands on the table, along with the keys to the twisted metal skeleton that used to be Craig's bike. Ruadh watches me for what seems like an eternity. Finally, he speaks and I wince at the disappointment in his voice.

"You're dealing drugs now?"

When I remain silent, Ruadh leans across the table to meet my eyes. I clasp my hands together to keep my fingers from trembling.

"Listen to me, Conor. No matter what you did or didn't do tonight, you're still my son. That said, I have other responsibilities to consider. The pack is growing tired of your disobedience, and my patience is wearing thin."

I try to stall for time as my brain searches for an out. I don't give a shit about Tyler, he'd stab me in the back without a second thought. But no way in hell I'll betray Jamie. Finally, Ruadh clears his throat.

"This isn't up for negotiation. Either you start talking, or we'll step outside and deal with your punishment right now. It's as simple as that. You understand me?"

Reluctantly, I nod. I'm well aware nothing I say is gonna make a difference, but I can't take another beating tonight. Not after the shitshow in Rainy Shallows.

Ruadh leans back and crosses his arms.

"Well, then. I'm guessing the Linwood brothers are involved in this mess?"

"Tyler set the whole thing up," I admit quietly. "Jamie's just his errand boy. He came to me when things went sideways."

"I figured as much. I swear, one of these days Jamie Linwood will be the death of you. What's it going to take for you to realize that boy is trouble?"

I'm on my feet before my mind even has a chance to catch up.

"Jamie isn't the bad guy here. I'm not turning my back on him just because you can't be bothered to handle Tyler peddling drugs all over Noxwood." 

"That's enough. You've had a rough night, but there's a limit to my patience. Are we clear?"

- Yessir. I'm sorry.

The words burn my mouth, but I manage to spit them out without screaming. Ruadh stands up and puts the bag of pills in his pocket.

"Jamie Linwood has you hooked, no doubt about that. But you can't save him by doing Tyler's dirty work in his stead. You're grounded until you figure out how to stay away from those two. Jamie's using you," he adds as I close my eyes. "That much is obvious to me. I guess you'll see it for yourself soon enough."

I shake my head in frustration. I don't quit on my friends to save my own skin. Ruadh, of all people should know that. He's been my stepfather since I was five. I've taken a beating over Jamie being a dumbass more times than I can count, but that never stopped me from seeing him. So, what's the new plan? Are they going to keep me locked up forever?

Ruadh seems to be reading my mind as he folds his arms and nods to the kitchen clock on the wall.

"I think we've covered enough ground tonight. Go get something to eat and make sure you get some sleep. We'll sort this out tomorrow."

"Yessir."

I try to keep my voice low and my head down. Speaking my mind might cost more than I'm willing to pay tonight. Ruadh gives me a pat on the back. As he leaves the kitchen, he turns to look at me.

"Your mother fought and bled for you, Conor. She put her life on the line. At the very least, she deserves an apology."