Page 53 of Rarely Pure and Never Simple
"Dad helped. But it was more to make sure I knew the rules when I was little. Got popped hard on the back of the head when I didn't pay attention or screwed around on the range. With his job, there were guns in the house. There were always gonna be guns, and Dad said I fucking better know how to handle them responsibly."
"He used those words?"
"Told you he's a hard-ass." Blaze shot him a fierce grin. "Didn't hurt that I was kind of a prodigy."
A father… Blaze still had one. "Was he… he's proud of you?"
The grin slipped. "I dunno. Sometimes. Maybe some days he still is."
"He wanted you to go into enforcement?"
"Local enforcement. Guild. Federal Crime. So long as I was doing something to protect and serve. We don't talk much anymore, though."
Damien waited, hoping there was more. A sudden hunger to understand Blaze gnawed at him. After a few minutes, he found he couldn't leave it alone. "Why?"
"Why what, Mr. Random Question?"
"Why don't you and your father talk anymore?"
"You really think this is any of your damn business?" The snarl was abrupt and sharp.
"No."
Another extended silence followed while Blaze drove and chewed on the edge of his thumbnail. Finally, those broad shoulders heaved in an aggravated sigh. "The old man didn't like that I went into contract work. That a licensed tracker's no better than, in his words, afucking junkyard dog with a gun. If I wasn't going to one of the law enforcement academies, I wasn't his son anymore. We yelled. He tossed me out. Satisfied?"
"Blaze, I'm—"
Damien got a finger pointed in his face. "Don't say it."
"All right."
The silence allowed Damien to concentrate on the trails again. Oddly, it didn't seem a strained silence to him until Blaze reached out a hand. He stared at that hand, unable to fathom what was expected for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then he hazarded a guess and settled his hand on Blaze's palm. The tension seemed to melt as Blaze's long, capable fingers curled around his. His thumb stroked the back of Damien's hand, a minor distraction, but a comforting one that set strange, bright butterflies careening around his stomach.
Toward evening,Blaze pulled over into brush cover without warning. He jumped out, scope in hand. Shudder was quick to join him and soon stood shoulder to shoulder with Blaze as they scanned the sky to the east.
"Don't like the looks of that."
"Ha!" Shudder lowered his field glasses with a little headshake. "Too damn official looking, I'd say."
Damien approached them, and Blaze handed him the scope, pointing to distant lights moving across the sky. Puzzled, Damien searched for whatever had caught Blaze's attention. He finally honed in on the plane, one of those squat, monstrous transports sometimes used for enforcer cargo hauling.
"It's awfully low, isn't it? There aren't any airports nearby." He knew the answer, and he didn't want it.
"There aren't." Blaze was chewing on his thumbnail again. "Which means they're either illegal and trying to fly below scans—"
"Not bleeding likely," Shudder muttered. "That plane costs more than the whole Guild Center's worth."
Blaze shrugged. "Don't know much about crime bosses, do you? Or they're on approach, landing somewhere close."
"The second," Damien said. "They're losing altitude too fast for anything else."
"Right." Blaze held a hand out for his scope and tucked it back in his coat. "We're closing in on something trail-wise, aren't we?"
Damien nodded.
"So we have to assume there's a well-organized operation up ahead. Even if they're not involved in kidnapping vari kids, we may not want to draw that kind of attention."
"When Blazey's right, he's right."
