O0o 25 Acquired Illnesses

Once Alisha left, Halian sat down beside of Jules. "Is your problem acquired, or of the blood?" Halian asked abruptly. "I need to know for Jules's own health."

"Acquired through my own stupidity," Charles answered.

"That's a relief." Halian reached back and tugged on the bell pull. Mary came back in immediately. "Bring two bottles of the estate wine, and two gla.s.ses, Mary," he ordered.

Again, Mary left.

"All right, Mr. Remington," Halian said. "You're free to unburden yourself."

"Where's Luke?" Jules heard himself croak. "Is he alive?"

Charles sighed. "Yes. Yes, Luke is alive. Or, he was two months ago. I don't know what he does. He only writes or visits on special occasions. It's possible I'll be dead before he takes an idea to see me."

"Does your second child know anything about Jules?" Halian asked.

"Only the lies I told him in order to stop him from asking questions," Charles said, putting his face in his hands. "Jules, you should know that all the letters you wrote to him... I didn't destroy them. I had that much pity. They're in a box in the attic."

"That would do Jules some good if he could even figure out where his old house was," Halian said, his voice still wintery. "Being drugged, dragged from his home in a sack, disoriented and terrified, he doesn't know."

Jules watched his father sort of curl inward upon himself, heard him give a sob.

"Don't cry for sins that would have no weight if not for the threat of G.o.d's hand about to fall upon you," Halian said harshly. "Your mortality is every reason to treat others well, always. Not only when you see the end of your life looming."

"I know, I know," Charles moaned. "I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed, and it's not enough, and I'm going to die a villain to my own children."

"I don't hate you," Jules whispered.
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Charles dropped his hands and looked at Jules through watering eyes. Finally, direct contact, but it cut Jules to see the self-loathing in his father's eyes. "Why not, boy? I hate ??????. I bought into all the garbage my own father taught me about The Dynamic, and I thought I had to get rid of you. My own flesh and blood."

"I can't answer that," Jules said through lips nearly gone numb. He brought out a fan to s.h.i.+eld himself from the sight of his miserable, grieving father, so confused and sick he thought he might vomit.

"I'm not sure, but I'm ninety percent certain Jules is simply incapable of hate," Halian said. "There's too much love in him to support hatred. Anger, yes. Judgment, yes. But hate? That takes a kind of cold distance Jules doesn't have."

"I'm glad," Charles said. And, he went back to his sagging position, looking like a broken marionette.

Mary returned with the wine and gla.s.ses on a tray. She opened one bottle and poured, then left again.

"Jules, are you healthy?" Charles asked, looking up again. "Are you well? G.o.d, you look so much like ???????. I can't believe it."

"I'm fine," Jules said, almost outside himself with pain. "What's wrong with you?"

Charles gave a bitter laugh. "I couldn't handle your mother's death. I drowned myself in booze and wh.o.r.es. It took a toll. I came down with a s.e.xual disease. Your brother got a front row seat to my slow and progressive decay, so he's utterly disgusted with me."

"He's an alpha?" Jules asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Jules said dumbly. "That's good."

"Have a gla.s.s of wine, Remington," Hal invited. "I expect you need it."

"You knew I was an alcoholic," Charles said, getting a gla.s.s.

"Yes. The signs are easy to spot." Halian got a gla.s.s, and reclined back. He made Jules lean with him until he supported him entirely. Then, he offered the gla.s.s to Jules. "I'm not feeding you in front of him," he whispered in Jules's ear. "I don't think he's able to witness that intimacy."

Jules nodded. That was probably very true.

"At least he got a good man," Charles said. "I've been asking around about you. Every time Jules got sold, I asked."

"Then, why didn't you intercept when St. Veras bought him?" Halian asked, swift and sharp.

"I thought... I thought at least Jules wouldn't starve," Charles said. "Starvation is a bad way to go, and there are a lot of omegas out there hungry. Even ? could take it up the a.s.s if it meant eating enough."

Inappropriate humor bubbled up in Jules, wild and almost gale-force. He knew the feeling as a herald of hitting a limit in his emotions, and whimpered, turning his face until he could get a whiff of Hal right at the side of his head.

"Jules eats well," Halian said, sounding a bit less cold. "I feed and clothe him even though he's perfectly capable of feeding and clothing himself. He's smart and talented, with the rarest and most giving nature of anyone I've ever encountered."

Charles, crumpled over with his wine, let out a long sigh. "His mother was, too. She must hate me by now. Looking down from G.o.d's Heaven to see what I've done to her precious children... I can't bear it."

"You hate religion," Jules whispered.

"People about to meet their end nearly always try to find comfort in faith of some kind, Jules," Charles said. "Death is an unknown thing."

Halian had a sip of wine, and kissed the side of Jules's temple. "Don't seek or commit to any faith for the same reason your father has," he said quietly.

Jules nodded his understanding and compliance.

"Do you have any way at all to contact Luke?" Halian asked. "Jules wishes to know his brother."

"Of course he does," Charles said sadly. "No, I know of nothing. Lucas only contacts me when his natural feelings of love overpower his aversion for my presence."

They were quiet a few minutes, drinking. Hal rang the bell again, and Mary reentered.

"Mary, have the guest quarters here prepared for Mr. Remington," he said. "It's going to snow tonight. Have Sam take the man's horse, and stable it. Bring a late lunch to him, and supper, and provide him with a bottle of stiff liquor. Inform the maids he may stay longer than a few days."

"Yes, sir," Mary said, and left.

"I don't deserve to sleep in your home," Charles said.

"Nevertheless, your pain bothers Jules, and I would not add one more dram to the vile potion that began distilling within him the moment you stuffed him into a bag," Halian informed. "As it stands now, Jules is righteous. I won't throw him off balance."

Charles shuddered. "Thank G.o.d," he said. "Thank G.o.d he didn't end up with someone cruel."

"You wondered?" Halian gave Jules the last of the wine, and stroked his head soothingly.

"I kept up enough to not completely shame my poor wife," Charles said weakly. "Not enough for a good father, or even a bad one. Only enough to have some perspective now about how wretched I am, and to know that I couldn't have done worse to Jules and Luke on purpose."

"I wouldn't say that at all," Halian remarked. He pushed Jules into sitting up, then made him stand up with him. "Your arrival has upset Jules, and I need to take him away for a while. It's possible he'll come back down. Please make yourself as comfortable as you can. If you need anything, ring the bell."

Jules didn't try to get a last look at his father. He was reeling. Everything seemed to be happening either too slow or too fast. He clung to Hal, disoriented, and not knowing exactly where he was. Nothing looked familiar anymore. Nothing was ?????.

Halian took Jules directly upstairs and sat him on the bed. Jules stared at nothing as Halian rid him of his cloak and boots, barely moved when his s.h.i.+rt came off and his trousers. Suddenly, he lay inside warm, heavy bed covers, naked, pressed up against an equally naked Hal.

"Jules? Jules are you in there?" Halian asked him urgently.

"Yeah..." Jules felt a s.h.i.+ver tear through him. "I think..."

Hal touched his forehead. "Sleep, Jules. Go to sleep."

Jules knew nothing else but darkness.