Controlled by a Fire Demon: The Owl Shifter Chronicles Book Two

by Qatarina Wanders

  Michael was smart enough to keep to the streets and stay away from major roads. Of course, the Alfreds would be expecting them to enter the town from the far north, where the city limit was. Nevertheless, they couldn’t be too careful.

  Emily had the thought to check on Joanna’s parents. They were cozy with the Alfreds; maybe they could get the Alfreds to release their prisoners. But she knew Michael would never agree to that. Probably a terrible idea.

  “So how far do we need to go before we get to the safe house?” Emily asked instead.

  “Not far,” Michael answered her.

  They didn’t drive into the heart of town. Michael found an old road that led to the abandoned factory development project that got axed by the community. Emily now recognized where they were; if she remembered correctly, the project to bring a couple of industries into the town got vetoed by security problems as a result of the town’s supernatural infestation.

  Some of these companies with parcels of land near the outskirts of the town had already started building before they all had to leave town. All of them. They were all run out of the town. They didn’t even bother to retrieve any of the equipment they had already brought in.

  As the decades piled on, the industrial park became just another fallow area. No one ever went there. So when Michael took them through a side road into the industrial estate, Emily was naturally surprised.

  She didn’t say anything. She was, however, on the edge of her seat as they drove for a few minutes down a long avenue. Eerie metal structures lurked on all sides. This place had that eerie feel as well. Long shadows and dark corners practically filled the area. There was a looming silence and the ever-present effect of the magical blanket spell on the city that kept the citizens docile.

  They made it to the end of the avenue, which was a T-junction. Michael took a left, muttering to himself. He kept his eyes peeled for something. Emily wanted to ask him what it was, but thought better of it. She didn’t want him distracted, or to give him another opportunity to insult her.

  The road they had turned to ended in a tall wall. It was the fence that hedged in the industrial estate area. The road curved to the left and ran parallel to the long avenue that ran through the industrial area like a spine. Michael parked on the shoulder of the road, just after curving along the bend.

  He turned off the car, looked about the desolate area, and muttered, “We’re here.”

  Emily opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but she didn’t get to ask because Michael opened the door and jumped out.

  Emily glanced at Dad, who was looking at her, mouth agape.

  “Maybe there’s something he’s seeing that we’re not,” Dad offered.

  Emily shrugged and got out of the car as well. Dad was not too far behind her. There was a small building just beside them. It looked like a bungalow but with the roof cut off. Or maybe the roof never existed in the first place. It was hard to tell.

  Michael stood facing it, giving it a serious look.

  “Hey, Michael, there’s nothing here!” Emily proclaimed. The frigid wind blasted through the road, cutting into her bones. She wrapped her arms around herself. Dad stood stoically beside her.

  Michael pulled himself away from the house and turned to them. He pointed at the car, smiled at it, and whispered, “Montero.”

  There was a crackle of electricity on the tip of his pointed finger. The car responded with a sharp vibration. And then it vanished.

  Michael nodded, his grin widening. “We’re definitely in the right place.”

  The young man stepped off the road into the small overgrown yard and into the roofless building. Emily had to detach herself from the reverie of an invisible car. Dad, however, reached out and tried to touch the car. His hand made contact.

  “It’s still there.” Dad’s hand hung in the air. “He really did make it invisible.”

  “And that’s surprising why?” Emily looked at her dad, lips parted slightly.

  Dad didn’t say anything.

  “Come on guys,” Michael asserted. “This way.” He was standing in the living room and waving to them. Emily and her father went to meet him.

  “This is a small house,” Michael explained. “It was supposed to belong to the caretaker of this park. Basically, someone to keep it from theft and all.”

  “He never got employed, I see,” Emily said, looking around the dusty place. The living room was narrow and cramped. In fact, the whole place was smaller than Emily’s living room at home. It was difficult to imagine a grown man living there, especially if he had a wife.

  “Pardon me, Michael, but I don’t see a magical safe house,” Dad said. “What I see is an incomplete building.”

  Michael grinned. It was almost unfair. If Emily had made that statement, Michael would have bitten back with a scathing insult.

  “That would defeat the idea, wouldn’t it?” asked Michael in a condescending tone. He raised his hands, shut his eyes, and started to chant. The words he spouted were gibberish to Emily, but obviously not to the house or to whatever cosmic influence powered magical beings. The building started to vibrate, or at least that was what Emily thought until the ground beneath them lurched downward a few feet.

  A powerful blast of light exploded in the room. Emily felt the sensation of falling. She felt as though she’d been thrown off a cliff and was cascading to her death. She screamed until she hit the ground, expecting never to rise again.

  But she lay there on the ground, eyes shut, panting. The ground was cold, but it wasn’t dusty, as she expected it to have been.

  “Emily?” said a voice.

  Emily managed to open one eye. She saw Michael bent over, looking at her with concerned eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  Behind him was Dad, who was standing. He, too, looked concerned. They both seemed all right. And they were all somewhere new.

  Emily nodded. “Help me get up, please.”

  Michael obliged.

  “Welcome to the safe house,” boomed a familiar voice again: Aunt Anastacia.

  29

  Aunt Anastacia stood akimbo in the tunnel. Yes, there was a tunnel that connected from the area where they had appeared—yes, they had appeared—to another area in the distance. The tunnel had red lights on opposite sides of the ceiling, giving it a service-tunnel feel.

  As usual, Aunt Anastacia was resplendent in her red garment, all the more enhanced by the grin on her face.

  “Aunty!” Emily felt relief flood her. She had to squash the urge to run to her aunt.

  Michael and Dad appeared surprised. It seemed as though they were also just seeing her for the first time.

  The woman stepped out of the tunnel into the small, annular ‘landing area.’ “I see you found the place,” she said to Michael, giving him a head-to-toe glance.

  Michael seemed antsy. “Yes.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “We got delayed en route.” He briefed a glance at Emily. “Nothing we couldn’t handle on our own.”

  Anastacia nodded. She glanced at Emily. “You look different.” She sniffed the air around her niece. “You look whole.”

  Emily simply nodded. She felt different. She felt complete, what with her coming to an agreement with the fire demon. She felt in control.

  “I feel whole,” Emily agreed. She realized she was still holding on to Michael. Michael was probably still shell-shocked by Aunt Anastacia’s presence there, so he hadn’t noticed Emily was still in his grasp either. Emily softly pulled away, drawing a distracted look from the young warlock.

  “Good.” Anastacia nodded her head once. “We need you now more than ever.”

  Emily was about to ask her what she meant by that, but Aunt Anastacia was already turning to Dad.

  “I smell magic on you,” said the rove woman. “It’s brimming.” She scanned him until her eyes settled on his hand. “You’ve just been recently healed.” Her eyes widened. “How? Michael isn’t that powerful yet.”

 
“It wasn’t him.” Dad’s eyes bulged. “It was Emily. Her teardrops.”

  Dad’s response caused Aunt Anastacia to take another look at Emily. “Hmmm.”

  “What’s ‘hmmm’?” Emily asked, guarded.

  “Nothing.” Anastacia shook her head casually.

  “It’s not nothing,” Emily argued. “I can tell.”

  “You’re right,” she replied. “It’s not nothing.” She turned on her heels and marched into the tunnel. “Come with me.”

  God, her aunt could be so cryptic and frustrating.

  The ground was made of solid concrete. The tunnel itself was short. About a few yards. Then they came into a large room with a vaulted ceiling. It looked like a warehouse—it surely was as large as a warehouse. There were different rooms and sections. The tunnel led straight into a large anteroom with a central table and chairs around the table.

  It resembled a living room/command center. There was a screen on one end and a coffee machine on the other. Couches were scattered around the large anteroom, and a cot was shoved in the corner. The central table was large enough for a conference meeting, and the seats arranged around it were enough to seat ten people.

  Three doors led out of the anteroom deep into the safe house. In Aunt Anastacia’s style, there were tags on the doors. One said Living Area, another said Utility, and the last said Library.

  “So you all must be exhausted from your trip here.” Aunt Anastacia ushered them along the hall.

  Emily wasn’t in the least bit exhausted. Okay, maybe she was, but she didn’t want to rest, which was what Aunt Anastacia was fetching at. She wanted to hear about the Alfreds. What happened? Where were they now? What were they doing? If Aunt Anastacia had made it back here, then the Alfreds were probably done with the house. If they didn’t have the barrier to keep them busy, they might want to vent their frustration on Emily’s two friends who were trapped in the castle.

  “You all need to rest up,” her aunt continued. “So, here’s a brief tour of the safe house. To the left is a door that leads to the utility room. Everything you need is there. Weapons, charms, everything. The one on the right leads to the library. This is the biggest supernatural library in this part of the world. So take care with the books.

  “Finally, the door in the middle leads to the living area. There are bedrooms for everyone with their names on them. There’s a kitchen and a living room, where you can sit and watch TV and so on.”

  Aunt Anastacia beamed with pride.

  “Why, you thought of everything, didn’t you?” Dad sounded impressed.

  “Indeed, I did.”

  Aunt Anastacia showed them all to their rooms. Michael’s room was across from Emily’s, while Dad’s was down the hallway. There were rooms for Rina and Joanna as well, which gave Emily a warm, fuzzy feeling. It showed that Aunt Anastacia hadn’t forgotten about the duo, and that they were still integral parts of the plan. Also that she had faith in them.

  Emily showered first. Although shifting between human and Owl was finally flawless, there was still that crawling feeling on her skin every time she shifted, as though she had a second scaly layer on it. She needed a deep scrub to get that feeling off of her. When she was done, she changed into a comfy sweater and sweatpants.

  There were all sorts of beauty products in the drawer, too. Everything a girl would need. Emily took her time, savoring the fresh smell of jasmine and the subdued light that gave a relaxing feel. For once, she wasn’t shackled by the feeling of impending doom. For once, there wasn’t a terrible, thundering noise outside. For once, there wasn’t anyone actively trying to kill her.

  It had been too long since Emily painted her nails or did her makeup. And even though it was late in the night, and she was going nowhere, she decided to do it anyway. Nothing complex. Just a layer of powder on her face, lip gloss, and a little eye shadow. She flashed a toothy grin at herself in the mirror.

  The sweater she wore said UMass. It was one of the universities Emily hoped to get admitted to. She wondered if perhaps Aunt Anastacia went there.

  It was sort of a weird question for Emily, though. So far, she had seen her aunty first as a lunatic, then as a witch. This powerful rove who knew a lot about the supernatural. What would the woman need with mundane knowledge? Yet, it was a cogent question.

  What was Aunt’s childhood like? What college did she attend, if she even attended college? Why didn’t she have a partner or a husband or something? Not that it was Emily’s business in the first place.

  Emily didn’t even know how old her aunt was. She knew Aunt and Mom were in the same age bracket. Maybe a couple years between them, or less. And Mom was in her early forties when she got killed. That put Aunt Anastacia in her early to mid forties maybe. Certainly still young.

  So why did she behave like she’d been alive for a hundred years? Emily thought to herself.

  A soft knock echoed on the door.

  “Who is it?” Emily inquired.

  “It’s me,” Michael replied.

  Emily’s heart climbed her chest. She checked to make sure nothing embarrassing was in sight. Then she went to the door and opened it. Only a bit, at first.

  Michael stood there with a tray of food in his hands. A simple sandwich and a mug of milk.

  She opened the door wider and took the tray. She looked at him. Michael had freshened up as well. And he smelled nice.

  “Thanks,” Emily said. She was about to shut the door, when Michael stuttered. She paused. Michael was blushing and avoiding her eyes.

  “Is there something else?” Emily prodded.

  Michael shook his head. “Aunt Anastacia isn’t forthcoming with the plans,” he said. “She says we’ll have a roundtable meeting in the morning. By nine.”

  Emily nodded. She thought as much. It was one of the hardest things to do: nothing. It was hard to sit idly by when every cell in your blood wanted action. Maybe that was why Michael appeared so anxious. For the past several hours, they had been on the run, in danger of being accosted at any point by three magicians who wanted nothing good from them.

  Now, they were safe. At least for a bit. They could shut their eyes and expect to wake up in seven to ten hours in one piece. And what did they want to do? Yeah, they wanted to go out again. Emily suspected this was how one developed PTSD.

  “I don’t know if I can sleep,” Michael admitted. “Every second we waste here is one second that Rina and Joanna come closer to being killed.”

  Emily nodded sympathetically. She felt the same way.

  “I don’t know what I'd do if I can’t save them,” Michael confessed. “I know you all came to save me. I got out, and they got caught. I have to rescue them. I have to.”

  Emily could see the makings of a rebellious spirit. If Michael knew how to get into Aunt Anastacia’s safe house, surely he knew how to get out. If he knew how to get out, what was to stop him from going after Rina and Joanna himself?

  Emily realized they had to be smart now. If she was right, the Alfred seniors were still knocked out. They needed another twenty-four hours or so before they woke from their sleep. That means they had as much time to attack the castle while it was at half strength.

  They didn’t need a half-baked or impulsive plan. They needed to be strategic. They needed all hands on deck. They were only going to get one shot at this. In other words, Michael had to stay put. Emily had to ensure it.

  “Look, no one wants them safe more than I do,” Emily started. “But even I understand Aunt Anastacia’s worry.”

  “So we cower here in fear?”

  “No,” Emily replied with a firm tone. “We’re not cowering in fear. We’re replenishing. We’ve been on the road all day. We’re exhausted. If we rush into the Alfreds’ castle now, they’re going to pick us off like unsuspecting sheep for slaughter.”

  “I’d like to see them try,” Michael cut in.

  “You’re feeling like that now,” Emily replied, “because there’s a lot of adrenaline coursing through your bod
y. You’re not going to feel like that when you stand facing Alice—or Marion, for that matter.”

  Michael opened his mouth to say something, and then he frowned and shut it again. Michael knew there was nothing he could do now to defeat the Alfreds on equal footing for the time being. Even Aunt Anastacia, as old and advanced as she was, would have a hard time defeating the Alfred kids in the current state of things.

  “So what do we do?” The tone of desperation in Michael’s voice appealed to Emily’s conscience. She knew that all this was for her friends. She, too, was worried for them. However, she was all too aware that they only had one shot at this. The Alfreds may not yet know how important the girls were to Emily and her team. But if Michael should go in to try and rescue them and fail, he would be putting their lives at risk and making it extremely difficult to get them out safely.

  “We stay put,” Emily stated. She saw the expression of hopelessness on Michael’s face. But she could do nothing to alleviate it. “We have to. It’s the best shot we have at saving them when the time comes.”

  Michael looked disappointed. “And what if she says we can’t save them now? What if Aunt Anastacia wants us to break the spell over the town first? And then face the Alfreds next? What if something always comes up before we have time to get to them?”

  Emily remained silent.

  “Don’t you see?” Michael said. “There’s never a right time. Now is the best time. Now that the Alfreds are tired from constantly bombarding the cottage’s barriers only to find the cottage empty. They’re feeling defeated. Maybe they’ve scoured the whole town and turned up empty. They’re at their wits’ end. Now is the best time to go in and save them.”

  “But we need a plan,” Emily stressed. “A solid plan. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I can make us a solid plan,” Michael argued as he ducked beneath her arm and entered her room. At first, Emily was thrown off balance by his sudden impulsiveness. But then she recovered, looked into the hallway to ensure it was empty, and shut her door.