Or with us.
I don’t know what I would do without my brother. He slumps into bed with Arlanna and me some time in the middle of the night, and sleeps though the morning most days. Then he waits until we’re out of the house before he runs off to track down any pack that might have him.
We walk together to the white tent, which is larger than our house, and twice as tall. The place is buzzing with activity. The line to the food has died down, but the breakfast crew is still grinning like they’ve won the lottery. In a way, we all have. We were condemned as prisoners and then suddenly freed.
Gray sticks next to me in the chow line, but he doesn’t grab a plate. I fix him one, since he’s not firing on all cylinders. I scoop anything he looks at twice atop his plate.
“Thank you, everyone. This looks incredible.” And it truly does. Quiche squares, sausage, hash browns, fruit salad, and even a stack of crepes with a blintz filling, and a blueberry compote beside it. “Who made the crepes?”
A woman grins at me, her white teeth nearly glowing against the umber of her skin. “I did. I was a chef before Prigham’s. Deepa, Your Majesty.” She introduces herself, sticking her hand out. But then she realizes I can’t take it, because I’m shuffling two plates, so she gives me a meek curtsey.
“You’re spoiling us, Miss Deepa. I’m glad you filled out the survey and tapped into your strengths.”
“Happy to help!” she chimes, ladling a neat line of the compote across my crepe, and then fixing Gray’s next.
Her smile dims as she takes him in, but she doesn’t back away, as people normally did while we were on the inside. Ever since he helped us all escape by turning into his wolf monster, the whole of the commune touts a new level of somber respect for him and his animal. A shifter took on a battalion of guards so the fae prisoners could escape.
I wish Gray could see their distance for the reverence it is, and not the fear he assumes it will always be.
I can see the honor Deepa has for him now as she folds his crepe with expert fingers. Now mine looks stupid and sloppy by comparison.
“Mr. Knight,” she begins, her voice tentative. “I’ve been hoping we’d see you. I wanted to say thank you for helping us escape.”
Gray barely registers her words, blinking as if she’s spoken in another language.
He used to be “that shifter” but now he’s “Mr. Knight.” I like the respect that finds him, even if he’s too distracted and forlorn to appreciate it.
“He’s not quite himself today,” I explain, wishing Gray was cogent enough to appreciate the adjustment in everyone’s mindset. Perhaps the entire commune’s new appreciation for shifters will melt into the rest of the world, teaching them that shifters are not beneath us.
But those are goals for the illusive “someday.” Today, I’ll be happy if Gray eats.
I find us a seat, loving the setup of the dining space. It’s just two lengthy tables that reach from one end of the enormous tent to the other, with benches that stretch on both sides. There aren’t separate spots for people to segregate themselves. Everyone seems to understand that this is our new start, and it’s up to us to make this better than the futures that have been stolen from us.
I’m ravenous, starved for proper meals with more than just caloric needs met. There’s care that’s gone into this spread. It makes these many ex-cons feel like family, and this tent like a home.
Gray only picks up his fork when I remind him of our purpose for this little field trip.
I’m almost sure he’s about to take his first bite when the entirety of the breakfast crowd stands, their chins dipping with reverence. I join them, but I don’t bow. Arlanna prefers the four she lives with don’t treat her like she’s any different than the rest.
It’s a strange sight to take in the show of respect they’ve robbed her of from the beginning. Arlanna went from having her food tray knocked out of her hands every day to now being given the first spot in the line, though she never takes it. She’s humble, and understands that prestige can be jerked away in an instant.
She also knows who she is, and doesn’t depend on other people to mirror that back to her.
Arlanna’s not sleeping more than a handful of hours a night, which isn’t something she’s ready to discuss, though not for lack of me trying to reason with her. She’s jittery and always making lists, either out loud, in her mind or on paper.
Everly Ann, her yipping white teacup terrier is almost always at Arlanna’s heels, and this morning is no exception. I reach down to pet the dog, but we both know the formality is all for show. It’s clear the dog despises me, but we get along for Arlanna’s sake.
Gray leads her to sit between us, inching his plate to her, which I guess I should have predicted. His bond with her is intense. If she hasn’t eaten, he won’t stomach a bite until he’s certain she’s been fed. I’ve never seen him cut up her meal for her, but I wouldn’t put it past him.
She’s a good sport about his hovering, which is a relief, because it’s the most he’ll interact with anyone.
He gives Everly Ann a low rumble of what sounds like a friendly growl, if there is such a thing, and Everly Ann yips at him and wags her tail.
Those two get along swimmingly.
“Did you get enough fruit?” Gray stands halfway before she stops him.
“It’s more than enough. Sit down and keep me company. I feel like I’ve had a full day already, and it’s barely nine o’clock.” It’s her way of taking care of him. I saw her do this dance two days ago, where he wouldn’t eat on his own, but when she fed him a bite off her plate, he complied. Between the four of us, we take decent care of Gray.
She munches on a grape, and then spears a truckleberry and passes it between his lips.
“You were gone when I woke up,” Gray complains.
She’s not the type to slow her plans down for anyone. I love that about her. “You were gone when I went to sleep,” she counters, though without a note of tartness to her tone.
Gray searches for a pack that will take him in all day, and doesn’t get home until the middle of the night. Arlanna doesn’t like to sleep without him, but she and I have managed to adjust. We have a nightlight and each other, so that helps.
“You alright?” Gray inquires.
She fakes a smile poorly as she pulls Everly Ann onto her lap. “Just loads to do. Wait until you see what’s coming.”
My interest is piqued. “No hint for insiders?”
She shakes her head. “I want to see the looks on your faces when they come. I mean, it’s not going to directly affect you two, but morale is about to shoot sky high.”
I point my fork in the direction of the breakfasters, who are chatting animatedly and smiling down the entire lengths of both tables. “I don’t think morale is an issue, but I look forward to whatever you’ve been working on so intensely for days now. I’ve got a meeting with Sloan in a bit. Can the surprise wait until after that?”
“Nope. Sloan’s coming with the surprise, so you won’t miss a thing. Actually, we should eat fast. Sloan’s idea of ‘on time’ is like, ten minutes early.”
She sets down her dog and starts shoveling in her breakfast at a quicker pace, but still pauses every other bite to feed Gray.