A Fraudulent Death, Draft 02, CH 22 (Patreon)

Trembor looked at the empty side of his bed; Marlot hadn’t come over. Trembor hadn’t asked, and his wolf hadn’t offered. It wasn’t like they’d spent every night together before, but only one night with his wolf, and Trembor missed the feel of his body, the scent of his fur.

If not for his plans, he’d convince Marlot to sleep in his bed every night.

He ran a hand over the mattress. His mind drifted back to possibilities. Marlot keeping him after paying his tax, as if his wolf would ever accept that Trembor could be kept, now that he knew what Gorrek had done. Working for Maoma, tarnishing everything Trembor was to where… he couldn’t even conceive of what he might turn into if forced to break laws over and over. And of course, Marlot would find out. And then he’d go to war on his behalf, no matter what Trembor did or said.

His hand closed, claws cutting into the sheet as he grabbed it in anger at the idea Marlot would end up eaten because of him. There could be no other outcome. He loved his wolf and thought the world of him. But going up against organized crime? The whole of the enforcers hadn’t stopped them; a lone wolf wouldn’t, no matter how determined he was.

He eyed the sliced sheet; couldn’t help seeing blood seeping out; his wolf’s blood. His blood on Trembor’s hands. Just because he’d wanted to hang on to the feel of the wolf against his body.

He rolled onto his back and told himself to get up. To get out of bed.

What was the point? What would he do today? Walk around the house? It would be so much easier to go to sleep one night and never wake up. Why not? There had to be something that did that. Some pill, a drug. Someone in vice would know.

No. He couldn’t ask anyone in that department. They’d ask why and no matter what he said, it would get back to Bahamel, and even if she said she’d stay out of their lives, she’d tell Marlot. She knew how deeply his wolf loved him. She wouldn’t let Trembor hurt him like that.

And what kind of message would that send to the cubs? His nephews and nieces looked up to him. It was one thing to arrange to die during a hunt. A story could be made of that, how it was an accident, how even the best predator failed sometimes, and one day, they failed in a permanent way. To take a pill, to die in his sleep. That wasn’t a death worthy of a predator.

That was a death only a coward would want.

And no matter what way he decided to die, he had things to do before then. “So get your tail out of this bed, Lion,” he told himself, staring at the ceiling. He needed to eat and go see people, say his goodbyes in such a way they didn’t figure out what he was doing.

He sighed.

When he sat up, it felt like the bed held on to him. He was reminded of something that had come out in his youth, a new fastener system that wouldn’t require buttons or laces. It would make holding shoes and clothing shut so simple even people with hand injuries could do it.

What had happened, was that one side kept getting caught in the fur, and removing that was painful. Cerek had called it a torture device after he’d had to shave one of them off his back when the tail strap had caught in the fur. It had been funny until his brother had put it in Trembor’s beginning of a mane, and some of that had to be cut off to remove it.

Other than Gorrek, Trembor couldn’t remember ever being more ashamed than when he sat there, his mother soothing him as she cut part of his mane.

At least his bed hadn’t ripped any of his fur off.

He lumbered into the shower room, took care of business, eyed the shower, and decided food was more important. He took the dregs out of the cooler. He hadn’t had any luck with the people Maoma had to have watching him. None of them had appeared and offered themselves as his next meal.

He had to go hunting.

He’d pick someone large, angry. A bull elephant, a rhino, or a badger. It was easy to underestimate those. As distracted as he was, any of them could end him.

He sighed.

But then they’d have to pay his tax. Could he ask his father how a trial affected someone’s rating without him realizing why he was asking? He wasn’t working right now because of it, so it should drop ever so slowly; or would it? This was forced on him by the trial. Maybe his productivity would be frozen until the verdict was rendered. Would someone who killed him have to pay based on his current rating, or that of the adjusted one after the verdict?

Maybe Barany was a better person to ask.

He was nearly done eating, having spent more time staring at the plate than consuming what was on it when someone buzzed his door. Trying to figure out who could have a reason to visit, he answered it and was surprised to find a lioness a decade younger than he was standing there. Before he could ask why she was there, his sister’s eyes grew wide, and she looked away, hand over her muzzle.

“Do you always answer the door naked, Tremmy?” Dania asked, chuckling.

He looked down at himself and embarrassment burned the fog hanging over him. With a curse, he grabbed the jacket off the hook and covered himself. “What are you doing here, Sis?”

She raised a bag without turning her head. “Mom figured you shouldn’t burn through your finances while you can’t work, so we pulled together and I was selected to bring you the meat.”

He considered turning her away. Dania was one of the smarter siblings in the family. It wouldn’t take much for her to realize something was off. Like say, him refusing help from his family.

Stifling a sigh, he stepped out of the way, finally noting the warm breeze blowing in. “You know where the cooler is. I’m going to go get dressed.” He looked outside. The path to the house was soaked with melting snow, the sky was bright blue. A clear sign today wasn’t the day to end everything.

Dressed, he returned to the kitchen. Dania was eying the plate on the table, the empty bottles in the return holder. “As usual, our timing is good.” She faced him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Were you actually waiting on us to bring you food?” her green eyes pierced him. Not accusation, but she was ready to call him out on whatever shit he might expect her to swallow.

“No, I just…” he still tried to come up with something, anything to not give her a hint as to what was on his mind, but had to settle on a version of the truth. “I just forgot. Everything that’s happening put me off. I was going to hunt today.”

She studied him before nodding. “Let me warm you something edible. Why do you bother keeping the gristle?”

“You know how my mom is, and I have her recipe for all-day honey-roasted meat. A day in the cooker at low heat and gristle’s perfect for that.” He watched her take a cut of meat from the cooler. “How are things with you?”

“Oh, you know how the life of a researcher goes. All data, no excitement.” She answered, placing it in the warmer. “Although that’s not entirely true. I lost two assistants this week. It’s throwing my timetables in shambles, and my bosses aren’t happy about it.” She leaned against the counter. “How are you doing? I mean, really. It isn’t like you to cut us off.”

“I haven’t cut off anyone,” he answered defensively, then looked for anything to explain himself. “I’ve been busy.” The tilt of her ear was all that was needed to inform him what she thought of that. He sighed. “Fine. All this sitting around not doing anything has left me in a weird place and I haven’t felt like socializing.” Again, the truth worked, even if it was incomplete this time.

“Tremmy, that’s not healthy. I understand not wanting to be around the whole family right now, but you need to be among people who care, you’re a lion, not a tiger. Go see our mothers and dad.”

He snorted. “I don’t need another lawyer telling me how I should behave to make sure the lawsuit goes my way.”

She chuckled. “Good point. Dad does have trouble leaving his work life behind, doesn’t he?”

Trembor rolled his eyes. “You’d think that being retired for six years he’d be done thinking he’s still a practicing lawyer.”

The warmer dinged, and she handed him the plate. “He talks with them every day.”

“Tell me he isn’t telling my lawyer how to do his job,” Trembor replied in annoyance.

She shook her head. “Mom tells me he’s been checking in with the firm daily since the first day he retired.”

He frowned, ignoring the warm plate in his hand. “My mom never said anything about that, neither has Lyria. Does Serene know?”

Dania shrugged. “I’m not asking the terror what she does or doesn’t know. I’m not going the be the one who lets drop dad isn’t as retired as he wants us to believe if she doesn’t.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Are you?”

Trembor shuddered at the idea of being responsible for that kind of argument. Torim had always been a workaholic as a way of fighting off his gambling addiction, but if only Lyria knew he wouldn’t allow himself to retire fully, he had to have gone to extensive length to hide that.

Yet another set of claws to maneuver around.

“Sit,” His sister said, “eat. You need real food in you. You don’t even have any vegetables left. How are you going to have a balanced diet?”

“I’m going to go shopping today,” he replied defensively, and added that to the list of things to take him out of the house. “Do you think my mom knows?” Arina was the heart of the family. Trembor got her ears from her. She’d been the one her generation went to when they needed counsel.

“Wouldn’t she have told you if she did?”

“She’s not as close with her children as yours is. I’ve been getting most of my family news from the cubs for years now.”

“And there it is.”

Trembor stared at her, the chunk of meat almost to his mouth.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to claim you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He kept staring, trying to figure out why she thought he knew what she was referring to.

“You brought them up, Tremmy. You haven’t taken the cubs’ calls for two days now.”

Cursing, he patted himself for his pad, but it was in the bedroom. He rushed there. He couldn’t have turned it off or set the family lockout. But he had slept in, and yesterday Marlot had been in his bed. He grabbed it off the bed stand and it was off. Frowning, he turned it on.

Or tried to. He’d forgotten to put it on the charging plate since picking it up the previous morning.

“Oh fuck.”

His sister chuckled from the doorway. “Yeah, I’d say that’s the proper reaction to ignoring your nieces and nephews.”

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