I can’t believe you let him inside of you.”
I wanted to run up to Red and put my arms around his neck. But there were cords of tension standing out on his neck, and the muscles of his arms were bunching convulsively, so I didn’t make a move toward him. “I’m so sorry, Red.”
“I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you.” I swallowed. “I’m not saying this excuses it, but he was injured, and the only way I could think of to heal him fast was to get him to change. But I guess a little bit of me must still have been clinging to the past.” I watched a muscle jump in Red’s clenched jaw. “I can tell you this—I’m not clinging to the past anymore.”
Red’s hazel eyes held mine, and there was no hint of tears or tenderness or humor in them anymore. And then, as if someone had cut something loose, he sagged. “It’s because of what I am, isn’t it?” He clasped his hands at the base of his neck and hung his head. “Crap. I’m not good enough for you.”
“Red, no!” This time, I did go to him, putting my arms around him, trying to get him to lift his chin. “I would never think that.”
“Maybe I think it. Maybe Magda’s not all wrong about the Limmikin.” Red was looking at me now, but with a taut, pinched expression I had never seen before. “My mother was the kind of woman men take for granted. She was always trying to fit in with some new guy’s idea of the right way to live. By the time I was twelve, I was just another guy giving her a hard time.”
I didn’t say anything. Red had told me other versions of this story, but I knew that he’d been leaving things out.
“I went to live with my grandfather, which was the first time I heard about being Limmikin. Mom used to say she was Mohawk, but that was like gypsies telling people they’re Romanian or Spanish or whatever. Anyway, Granddad pretty much lived on his own, in a cabin out in the woods. We spent more time as wolves than we did as people. After he died …” Red smiled, a bitter twist of his lips. “Let’s just say that I got to know the rest of my family a little too well. Tricksters, all of them. Liars without equal. Hell, they lie so well, half the time they don’t even know when they’re doing it.” He paused. “I spent nearly two years with my grandad’s clan. Moved from town to town, crossing between Canada and the States. Worked as a contractor, taking people’s money and not delivering. Doing a shit job, cutting corners, sometimes just making stuff up. I bilked people, Doc. Good people. Newlyweds. Old folks.” He hesitated, then went on. “One time I stuck around longer than usual because I’d met some outside girl, and I learned that one of my crap repairs killed a man. That’s when I left the family, started traveling on my own.”
“That’s when you became a shaman,” I said, realizing.
“I keep telling you and Jackie, I’m not Siberian, and that’s not the right word.”
I felt a stab of jealousy. “Does Jackie know all this?”
Red shook his head. “Never wanted anyone to know I was a con man and a criminal. Don’t even know why I’m telling you this, Doc.” He rubbed his hand through his short hair. “Guess you deserve to know, though.”
I pushed my forehead against his. “You’re telling me because you want to know whether I can love the real you. But whatever you did in the past … you left that life behind. You’re not like that now.” I wasn’t completely sure that I believed that, but the urge to console and heal was too strong to ignore.
“I’m still guilty of the things I’ve done.”
“You’ve tried to make up for them,” I pointed out. “You’ve tried very hard to be a good man.” And now I knew that I was telling the truth. Whatever his former crimes, Red was one of the good guys now.
And then I remembered the night he’d changed and Rocky had disappeared.
Red’s hand came up to cup the back of my head, and we stayed like that for a moment, brow touching brow. “Then why would you let that shit you married inside your body, Doc?”
“It was a mistake.”
His hand still holding the back of my head, Red drew back that crucial