informed the local Board of his relocation but for all I knew Jess and the others were familiar with Red and just let him be.
I put my mug down, grateful for the chance to avoid scalding the rest of my stomach lining. “I’m looking for two teenagers.”
He eyed me, the steady gaze of a hunter sizing up a potential ally or enemy. “You’re too young to have kids, Suz.”
“Not mine.” I withdrew the pictures from my pocket and unfolded them. “These two. Young lovers come to the big city.”
Red finished the bar and put the empty wrapper back in his pocket before taking the photographs. His hands moved back and forth as he squinted to focus on the images.
“Hmm.” He scratched his chin, sending a flurry of flakes downward. “This boy, he’s a Chandler. Bad blood there. Don’t know the girl but she’s pretty.”
“How would you know that?” I almost stood up before realizing it’d be seen as an aggressive move—not recommended considering my possible opponent.
“Got the eyes.” Red pointed at his own eyes and then at mine with two fingers. “I met a Chandler once. Never forget his eyes. Nasty stare. Steel under there, hard iron that don’t break for nothing.”
“What do you know about them?” I stayed still though my muscles were twitching with anticipation. “The Chandlers, that is.”
“He’s a young one,” Red murmured. “Newest generation.” He flipped the photographs, placing Lisa’s on top. “He took up with the girl here?” His fingertips ran over the surface of the paper as if he were trying to memorize their features through touch.
“Yes. And she’s a Middleston.” I watched his forehead crease. “You know about the feud, I guess.”
Red let out a low whistle. “Playing with fire, he is. Ain’t no way that’s gonna end well.”
“If you help me find them we can try to help them.” I watched him shuffle the papers back and forth, laying one on top and then the other. First Evan, then Lisa.
The impromptu exercise ended. “You know how this all started? The feud?”
I shook my head. “Before my time.”
Red glared at me. “You’re hunting ’em and don’t know the whole story? Bad form, kit. Bad form. Ain’t no one don’t know the story of this fight.”
“I missed the memo,” I offered.
Red snorted and poked the flames with a stick.
“Look, I left the Pride when I was fifteen. Give me a break.”
He gave me the stink eye for another minute before answering. “Started off as a challenge like most things do.” Red took another sip of tea. “Old Maureen Middleston. When I say old I don’t mean old like the museum lions, I mean old like me.” He patted his chest. “If she’d lived she’d be my age plus a bit. You understand?”
I nodded, trying to encourage him to keep talking. I had the sense that if he stopped it’d be like trying to pry the lid off an old paint can.
“She challenged Laura Chandler for a spot on the Board. Wasn’t anything much to it, just two women wanting the same thing. You know how that goes.”
A shiver went down my spine. I flashed back to Jess discussing how she’d lost her eye in just such a fight with my mother. “I know.”
“Ended in death.” He looked into his near-empty mug. “Death and destruction. Think Shakespeare said something ’bout that.”
“I think I remember something along those lines. The challenge ended up killing one of them? How? It was over a spot on the Board. How did it get to death?”
The mantra I’d been raised with echoed around my mind. Felis didn’t kill Felis. The idea of the challenge was to fight to the edge, to get your opponent to submit. When we were young we fought over anything and everything until we got the common sense God gave a newt and figured out to pick and choose our battles.
A few black eyes and bloody noses will do that to you.
“’Twas an accident. Damned hole.” Red poked the air with his index finger. “Rabbits’ home, exit and entrances. Take a
I put my mug down, grateful for the chance to avoid scalding the rest of my stomach lining. “I’m looking for two teenagers.”
He eyed me, the steady gaze of a hunter sizing up a potential ally or enemy. “You’re too young to have kids, Suz.”
“Not mine.” I withdrew the pictures from my pocket and unfolded them. “These two. Young lovers come to the big city.”
Red finished the bar and put the empty wrapper back in his pocket before taking the photographs. His hands moved back and forth as he squinted to focus on the images.
“Hmm.” He scratched his chin, sending a flurry of flakes downward. “This boy, he’s a Chandler. Bad blood there. Don’t know the girl but she’s pretty.”
“How would you know that?” I almost stood up before realizing it’d be seen as an aggressive move—not recommended considering my possible opponent.
“Got the eyes.” Red pointed at his own eyes and then at mine with two fingers. “I met a Chandler once. Never forget his eyes. Nasty stare. Steel under there, hard iron that don’t break for nothing.”
“What do you know about them?” I stayed still though my muscles were twitching with anticipation. “The Chandlers, that is.”
“He’s a young one,” Red murmured. “Newest generation.” He flipped the photographs, placing Lisa’s on top. “He took up with the girl here?” His fingertips ran over the surface of the paper as if he were trying to memorize their features through touch.
“Yes. And she’s a Middleston.” I watched his forehead crease. “You know about the feud, I guess.”
Red let out a low whistle. “Playing with fire, he is. Ain’t no way that’s gonna end well.”
“If you help me find them we can try to help them.” I watched him shuffle the papers back and forth, laying one on top and then the other. First Evan, then Lisa.
The impromptu exercise ended. “You know how this all started? The feud?”
I shook my head. “Before my time.”
Red glared at me. “You’re hunting ’em and don’t know the whole story? Bad form, kit. Bad form. Ain’t no one don’t know the story of this fight.”
“I missed the memo,” I offered.
Red snorted and poked the flames with a stick.
“Look, I left the Pride when I was fifteen. Give me a break.”
He gave me the stink eye for another minute before answering. “Started off as a challenge like most things do.” Red took another sip of tea. “Old Maureen Middleston. When I say old I don’t mean old like the museum lions, I mean old like me.” He patted his chest. “If she’d lived she’d be my age plus a bit. You understand?”
I nodded, trying to encourage him to keep talking. I had the sense that if he stopped it’d be like trying to pry the lid off an old paint can.
“She challenged Laura Chandler for a spot on the Board. Wasn’t anything much to it, just two women wanting the same thing. You know how that goes.”
A shiver went down my spine. I flashed back to Jess discussing how she’d lost her eye in just such a fight with my mother. “I know.”
“Ended in death.” He looked into his near-empty mug. “Death and destruction. Think Shakespeare said something ’bout that.”
“I think I remember something along those lines. The challenge ended up killing one of them? How? It was over a spot on the Board. How did it get to death?”
The mantra I’d been raised with echoed around my mind. Felis didn’t kill Felis. The idea of the challenge was to fight to the edge, to get your opponent to submit. When we were young we fought over anything and everything until we got the common sense God gave a newt and figured out to pick and choose our battles.
A few black eyes and bloody noses will do that to you.
“’Twas an accident. Damned hole.” Red poked the air with his index finger. “Rabbits’ home, exit and entrances. Take a
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