The Fox’s Tale

Lucas removed the book from Quinn’s face and tucked one of the throw blankets we had in the living room over his upper body. He caught me watching them.

“What? Why are you staring like that?”

“Just, Quinn said you helped raise your siblings and I can see it. I don’t want to say you daddy everyone you care about, because that sounds like something else entirely, but I also don’t want to say you mother everyone. I can’t think of the right word, but you take care of people.” I bit back a smile.

“Why does that amuse you?”

“It’s not that I think it’s funny ha ha, but you have this whole terrifying badass persona and really you’re a big softie.” I covered my mouth with my hand to hide the grin on my face.

Lucas continued to scowl at me as he sat down. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing! I just find it ironic that the kindest individual I know is a vampire. Oh shit, sorry, I know you guys don’t like that word.”

“Would you like to be known for only one thing you ate?”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that. No, I suppose I wouldn’t.” We both settled in and started going through the books again. “Is there as big of an age difference between you and your other siblings as there is between you and Darcie or Quinn?”

“I am three years older than my next sibling, my brother Asher, and then there is a ten year age difference between me and my next sibling Gregor, twelve between me and Vincent, and fourteen between myself and Natalia. Then there is a substantial jump between the first two families, as it were, of about thirty years.

“Then we have in order Danika, Abraxas, Juliet, Ophelia and Amaris. He fathered five children with three different women in the span of six years. Then we have another jump of almost seventy years to get to Charis, and then another fifty to get to Darcie. As you could probably deduce from the gaps, as his reputation grew the harder it became for him to lure women into his bed.”

He sighed then went on. “Anya, his lover after Mother, moved in with Mother after Natalia was born. Father had been thrown into a rage because he’d had a daughter. He was obsessed with the idea of having seven sons. That’s probably why he didn’t attempt to have me killed. The irony that he’d wound up with seven daughters was lost on him.

“At any rate, his subsequent lovers were all substantially younger than him, daughters of his allies or of overly ambitious courtiers. And Father cut such a tragic figure, his first two loves leaving him to shack up with one another, his heir a defiant, ungrateful child who refused to take a wife. That Anya and Mother were only friends was not disclosed.”

Lucas shook his head. “They were all convinced that they were somehow special, that they could mend the broken heart of the High King, that they would be the one he loved, but my father only loved himself. So they inevitably showed up on my doorstep in tears with their child or children in tow, save for Lilith. I had to fetch Abraxas and Amaris from the nursery myself.”

“Why? What happened to Lilith?” I was almost afraid of the answer.

Lucas sighed once more. “She stayed with him for a number of years after Amaris was born, debasing herself, groveling for a chance to prove she could give him another son while he continued to use her to amuse himself, but never in a way that would produce a child. After about ten years she killed herself with the same triple edged sword that I used to kill him years later.”

I inhaled sharply. “Damn. I need a drink of my own now.”

“I’ll be happy to fix you a cup of tea,” he said as he sipped his.

“No thanks. I need something stronger than tea,” I said to the house. A whiskey tumbler with ice appeared on the end table closest to me and filled itself halfway with bourbon. “Thank you.” I took a sip. “Fix Lucas one too.”

A second glass appeared and filled itself with a liquid that was darker than the bourbon the house had provided me. Lucas set down his tea cup, picked up the tumbler, and took a swallow.

“You really shouldn’t be drinking after having taken a Quaalude, you know,” he said in a teasing tone.

“Ha, right, that you forced down my gullet. How the hell did you even have one of those? Been saving them up since the seventies?”

Lucas grinned at me over his glass. “The sixties.” We both nursed our drinks and then Lucas said, “may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

An expression I couldn’t identify crossed his face and he licked his lips as he set his glass down. “Have you ever?”

It took me a moment to figure out the rest of his unspoken question. “Are you talking about what Quinn mentioned after Scott’s comment?” I asked; incredulous. He nodded.

“Don’t you think we have more important things to worry about than the effect you have on libidos?” I turned my attention back to the book in my lap, but I could feel his eyes boring into me. With a sigh I said, “no. Have you?” Then I glanced up at him.

Lucas raised an eyebrow at me. “I am fully aware of my sexuality, so no, I have not questioned it.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Lucas took another sip of his drink and then set it down. “What are you asking? Am I attracted to males as well as females? Have I been with individuals of multiple genders? Or are you wanting to know if I’m attracted to you?” I didn’t say anything and he chuckled. “Yes.”

“Yes?” I stared at him in alarm. “Yes to which question?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?” I squeaked, then grabbed my glass and took a deep drink.

“Relax. It is of no consequence. Sexuality amongst the Incorruptibles skews towards fluidity.”

“It’s not that, that part I’d figured out, it’s just weird hearing you say you find me attractive, under the circumstances. You’re my mate’s grandfather.”

“And you are my granddaughter’s Other. I can admire something without desiring to claim it.” He relaxed back in his chair. “Did Esma not vocalize her admiration of your physical form when you met? It’s the same thing.”

I shook my head. “It’s not the same at all.”

“I fail to see the difference.”

I still couldn’t look him in the eye. “Trust me, as uncomfortable as I felt when she ogled me, having you do it is worse.”

“I have never ogled anyone,” he responded in a defensive tone.

“You know what I mean,” I snapped back, my annoyance overcoming my embarrassment.

“You asked,” he pointed out.

“You asked first!” We stared at each other, and then I cocked my head to one side. “Why did you ask?”

He shrugged. “Quinn’s comment surprised me. I felt, out of everyone, that you and I had enough of a rapport that you might be willing to explain what it is about me that would cause that reaction, but as you have not experienced it the point is moot.”

“Shit, Lucas, if that’s what you wanted to know then just ask that!”

He ignored me by draining his glass and opening another book. I polished off mine and picked up a book of my own. “You and Darcie do look alike,” I mumbled.

“We look like our father, something that I have always wished wasn’t the case,” he replied, not looking up from his book. He flipped through a few more pages before slamming it shut. “This one is useless. It’s just a glossary of Gaelic.”

“Darcie is pretty.”

Lucas’s head whipped around and he gaped at me. “Are you saying I’m pretty?”

“No.” It came out almost like a whine. I cleared my throat. “No,” I repeated in a more even tone. “You’ve got a good looking face is all I’m saying.” I looked down. “That and the whole badass vibe I mentioned earlier. Chicks dig that. I imagine guys would too.”

When I looked back up Lucas was staring at another book with a look of revulsion. “Have you found something?”

“Possibly. All of this discussion about Father has made me think about him, something I have avoided doing for the last seventeen years. The one constant about him was that he was loyal only to himself. He would have done anything to anyone to achieve his goal, aligned with and betrayed anyone.

“There is only one possible ally he could have found that has chafed under the rule of the Unseelie to the point where they would break their oaths of fealty.” He tapped a picture in the book and I curled my lip in distaste.

“Really? He’d have been that desperate?”

“We are talking about the man who ordered me to murder my mother and brother, who drove one of his lovers to commit suicide, and had me beaten every day for two years after I was banished from King Roland’s court. He was capable of anything.”