Ember

by Ophelia Sexton

  His skin felt warm but not feverish, and her touch didn't elicit a violent reaction, either. Instead, Daniel turned his face and snuggled against her hand, stiff stubble caressing her palm in a tingling caress. She saw a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  See? asked her bear, sounding irritatingly smug. He feels it, too. A connection to you.

  Margaret fought to keep from grinning like a lovesick teenager.

  "He's fine," she reported to Chris, who was hovering just behind her, his concern radiating with almost palpable pressure. She couldn't prevent some of her smile from leaking through. "He's just healing. We shifters do that sometimes when we're badly hurt—go into a deep healing sleep, I mean. He'll wake up when he's ready, and he'll be starving when he does. Why don't we head downstairs and get some breakfast going?"

  Chris hesitated, one hand clenched tightly around the brass bedpost. "You're really sure that Uncle Dan's gonna be okay?"

  "Positive," Margaret assured him. "I've lived on this ranch a long time, and have seen this happen a few times when one of the other shifters here gets hurt. Usually, it's because a cow kicks them or someone flips an ATV. Chances are that your uncle will be mostly back to normal tonight or tomorrow."

  She forced herself to pull her hand away from where it cupped his cheek and jaw, though the sensation of warm skin and the soft prickle of his growing beard lingered on her palm. Mustering her self-control, she straightened up and turned toward the bedroom door, fighting the urge to pull up a chair and stand guard over Daniel's bedside until he woke.

  He'd probably hate to have a stranger watching him while he's out cold, she told herself.

  To her surprise, her bear spoke up. He has enemies. He needs our help.

  Of course, he has enemies, Margaret replied silently. He's a sabertooth shifter...and Pete Langlais' brother. That's guaranteed trouble, right there. I have a feeling that Elle isn't going to be happy with me for offering him sanctuary, once she hears the whole story.

  Your sister trusts your judgment, her bear stated confidently. Margaret wished she shared that confidence.

  One crisis at a time, she told herself. She'd have time enough to deal with Elle's probable reaction when her sister and brother-in-law returned from Coeur d'Alene.

  "How do you feel about pancakes?" she asked Chris.

  The boy brightened. "I love them!"

  Chapter Nine – Shifter Soccer

  "Mrs. Swanson, what does 'sanctuary' mean?" Chris asked sometime later.

  He was dressed in the same jeans and hoodie that he'd arrived in. Margaret had seated him at the table in the breakfast nook, and the boy was making rapid inroads through a stack of homemade pancakes surrounded by a pool of amber maple syrup on his plate. A smaller plate to one side held the remnants of a scrambled egg and a few crumbs of fried bacon, and he had a tall glass of milk in front of him, half-empty now. The bowl of fruit salad she had made was still untouched, but she suspected that he was saving it for dessert.

  Margaret was seated across from him, drinking coffee from an oversized mug that her son Patrick had given her one Christmas. On one side, it bore a photo image of her granddaughter Olivia dressed in her favorite sparkly purple princess dress. On the other side, there was a photo of Olivia in her bear cub form, sitting in an inflatable pink wading pool.

  "You've never heard of sanctuary?" Margaret asked, surprised.

  Chris, his mouth full now, shook his head.

  She wondered how much the boy knew about his shifter heritage...and whether sabertooth shifters even observed the practice of sanctuary, given their bloodthirsty reputation and their extreme territoriality. Daniel had known about it, of course, but maybe it wasn't common knowledge.

  "You know that most shifter groups have their own territories, right? Bear shifters, like me, tend to congregate in clans, where we're all related to each other by blood or marriage. And sabertooth shifters gather in prides, but I'm not sure if that's like a clan or not. Are you related to most of the other shifters in your pride?"

  Chris shook his head.

  "Well, be that as it may, your pride has a territory it claims and defends, right?"

  Chris's shoulders slumped. "Sort of. It's the city of Albuquerque, but Uncle Dan said that those men attacked us yesterday because my dad's in prison and they think they can take over." He gazed earnestly up at Margaret, his blue eyes intent. "I don't understand why Uncle Dan doesn't just take my dad's place as Pride First and force those guys to leave us alone. He used to be a Marine and he fought in Afghanistan. He never wants to talk about it, but I've seen his medals and stuff."

  That revelation took Margaret by surprise. Daniel Langlais was a veteran? And more importantly, he was a sabertooth shifter who wasn't interested in taking power for himself?

  "Has he ever mentioned why he doesn't want to do that?" she asked, carefully.

  "Uncle Dan says that being a Pride First is un-American," Chris said. "He told me once that he didn't swear an oath to defend the Constitution and serve two tours of duty just to come home and make himself a dictator."

  Margaret blinked. She had heard similar opinions expressed by her brother-in-law Justin when he was in one of his rare moods to discuss the sabertooth politics he'd left behind years ago. It sounded like Justin's ideas might be spreading throughout the sabertooth community.

  She longed to asked Chris more questions about his fascinating uncle, but forced herself to return to answering the boy's original question. "Anyhow, if you're a shifter, you're not supposed to enter another shifter group's territory unless you're invited or you ask for sanctuary. If you ask for sanctuary, it's because something bad has happened and your own clan or pride can't defend you and you can't return to your home territory."

  Chris nodded solemnly. "Uncle Dan told me that the same people who came to our house and tried to kill us, killed Lizbeth."

  Who is Lizbeth? Was she Daniel's girlfriend or wife? He didn't smell mated to me, but...

  Chris stared down at his half-eaten stack of pancakes, his expression troubled, then put down his fork and pushed away his plate. "She was this older lady who used to babysit me while Uncle Dan was at work," he continued. "She was really nice. Everyone liked her. And those guys still killed her."

  The raw pain in his voice stabbed Margaret in the gut. Coupled with his two gunshot wounds, it sounded like Daniel hadn't been exaggerating about the danger he and Chris had faced back in Albuquerque. She knew she had done the right thing to offer sanctuary to this boy and his uncle, and she no longer cared what Elle—or any of the others, especially Mark and Caitlyn— might say to her about it.

  She leaned across the table and covered Chris's hand, sticky with maple syrup, with her own. "Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry about Lizbeth. And I'm really glad that you and your uncle decided to come here. You're one of us now, and we Swansons protect our own."

  "Are we going to have to stay here long, Mrs. Swanson?" he asked. "I can't miss too many days of school, or they'll make me repeat a grade."

  Margaret shook her head. She felt bad for the boy, caught in the midst of so much uncertainty, but she didn't want to lie to him, either. "I don't know. That's one of the things I want to discuss with your uncle once he wakes up."

  * * *

  Chris proved to be a remarkably polite young man. He helped her clean the breakfast dishes from the table, and dried the pans while she washed. Then he parked himself quietly in the living room, and played a game on his phone while Margaret cleaned her kitchen and performed a few other chores. In the early days, she and Elle had personally prepared a generous breakfast for all of the ranch's B&B guests.

  Nowadays, Margaret had a staff of dependable helpers who cooked and served breakfast for the B&B's guests staying at the ranch's other houses. She still insisted on cooking breakfast for the guests staying under her roof, but with only three spare bedrooms in this house, feeding her guests was a pleasure rather than a chore.

  When 10:00 a.m. rolled around, with still
no sign of Daniel emerging from his upstairs haven, Margaret's keen ears caught the sound of approaching voices. She smiled as she recognized them.

  A few moments later, her front door opened.

  "Hi, Auntie Margaret," her great-nephew Matthew said as he stepped into the foyer.

  Margaret saw his inseparable best friend Sophie enter right behind him.

  She went to them, and gave each of them a hug. "Good morning, my dears. What brings you here? I have some cookie dough in the fridge. I could bake up some chocolate chip cookies if you want a snack."

  Years ago, Margaret had learned that one of the keys to keeping her B&B guests happy was to make a large batch of cookie dough at the beginning of the week, and then bake fresh cookies every afternoon to serve with coffee and tea in the living room.

  Matt cast a longing glance in the direction of the kitchen, but said, "Maybe later. Aunt Steffi told us that you have a shifter kid staying here and we thought that maybe he'd like to come play soccer with us."

  "We never have enough kids for two whole teams," Sophie added, plaintively. "And they're all so little!"

  "That sounds like a great idea," Margaret said. "Follow me, and I'll introduce you to Chris. He's a sabertooth shifter, like your Grandpa Justin, and I think he's the same age that you are."

  "Oh, cool," breathed Sophie, as the two of them followed Margaret into the living room. "Do you think he'll shift? I've never seen Grandpa Justin do it."

  Chris had of course overheard the entire conversation. He slid his phone in the pocket of his jeans as they approached, and stood as Margaret introduced Matt and Sophie.

  "What's shifter soccer?" he asked, when everyone had exchanged cautious hellos.

  Matt began to explain the rules as he and Chris took careful measure of each other.

  Both boys were about the same height. Matt was dark-haired and stocky with the promise of a bear shifter's solid build when he grew older. Chris was leaner, his movements smooth and quick.

  Matt finished his explanation by saying. "...but you gotta be careful around Sophie, 'kay? She's an Ordinary."

  Sophie scowled at this. "I wish you'd stop saying that, Matt. You make me sound like such a wimp!"

  He scowled back at her. "I don't want anyone to hurt you by accident."

  Margaret fought to suppress a smile at this. At the age of eleven, her great-nephew was already behaving like a typical over-protective bear shifter male.

  Sophie didn't look impressed by his reasoning. Her brown eyes practically shot flames as she snapped, "You don't have to baby me! I can take care of myself, Matt. If you guys try to run me over, I'll just dodge you. I'm good at that," she finished, smugly.

  Chris looked at Margaret. "I play on a soccer team back home. Do you think Uncle Dan would mind if I went?"

  "I don't see why he would. It's not like any of you are going very far."

  "Just to that pasture across the road," Matt added helpfully. "My dad mowed the hay there last week, and it's almost like a real soccer field now."

  "You're on a soccer team?" asked Sophie, grinning at Chris. "That's so cool! I bet you could teach us some moves."

  Matt didn't look happy at this idea.

  Or maybe he just doesn't like Sophie smiling at Chris, Margaret thought with secret amusement.

  "I think it'll be a while yet before your uncle wakes up," she said. "I know he wasn't acting like it, but he was pretty badly hurt yesterday." She made a shooing motion. "Go! Have fun. Come back when you three troublemakers decide you want lunch."

  Chapter Ten – Awakenings

  The bedside clock-radio said 2:00 p.m. when distant shouts and the divine smell of roasting chicken finally propelled Daniel back to consciousness.

  Holy shit. He hadn't meant to sleep this long. He felt sore all over as he rolled out of the comfortable bed, and he was starving. But the leaden fatigue that had dogged him yesterday had dissipated. He felt like he could think clearly again.

  He looked around for Chris, and saw no sign of his nephew. Worried, he padded through the bathroom that connected their rooms, and spotted Chris's pajamas neatly folded on top of a made bed. His nephew's sneakers were gone and the inside of the house was quiet.

  Then he heard children shouting outside.

  Daniel strode back into his bedroom and went to the window. He pushed aside the heavy curtains and peered out.

  He spotted Chris and a bunch of kids of various ages running across a pasture just on the other side of the road from the house, kicking a soccer ball around. Two portable goal nets had been set up on opposite ends of the pasture. There were several wolf and bear cubs running after the ball, and from the speed and agility of the remaining human players, Daniel realized that most, if not all, the kids in the game must be shifters.

  His observation was confirmed when one of the younger boys dropped to all fours and paused briefly to transform into a bear cub, wriggling out of his t-shirt and jeans before bounding over to guard the goal net.

  "Hey, no fair!" Despite his protest, Chris was laughing as he ran alongside a dark-haired girl who looked to be a year or two younger than him, guarding her from the other players as she dribbled the ball across the field with short, precise kicks. He looked like he was having fun.

  "Hey, Mitya, you're too old for that!" shouted a solidly-built dark-haired boy who looked to be the same age as Chris. "Only the littles get to play in shifted form!"

  The newly-shifted bear cub rose on its hind legs in front of the goal net and yowled defiantly.

  Wow. It struck Daniel that this was the first time that his nephew had spent any time around other shifter kids. He was currently the only youngster in the Sandia Mountain Pride. Not the only shifter kid in Albuquerque, of course, but since none of the coyote pack or cougar shifters in Albuquerque wanted to have anything to do with the sabertooth shifters, Chris was constantly having to remind himself to dial back on his speed and strength so that he wouldn't stand out too much among his Ordinary classmates and teammates.

  Daniel remembered what it was like to grow up with a secret like that. At least he and Pete had had each other, and back then, there had been a couple other sabertooth shifter kids in the pride.

  In the crisis-driven rush of events yesterday, Daniel hadn't had the chance to think about what might come next if he was actually successful in claiming sanctuary from the Swanson clan.

  It came as a relief to see that Chris already seemed to be making friends on this ranch. His nephew deserved the chance to have friends his own age, in a place where he didn't need to live a closeted life twenty-four hours a day.

  If we have to stay here long-term, I'll need to find another job and a place to live.

  Daniel blew out a frustrated breath. Damn it.

  He didn't want to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary. For one thing, Albuquerque was his home. And he really liked his job as the Desert Bayou's executive chef. It was rewarding, fast-paced work, it paid well, and Cousin Teddy had been hinting strongly about selling the place to Daniel in a couple of years, when Teddy planned to retire.

  Which reminded Daniel that he hadn't heard from Teddy. He'd phoned his cousin with a warning about Messerzahn's purge before leaving Albuquerque yesterday, but the call had gone straight to voicemail. And Teddy hadn't called him back during the long drive north.

  Guilt stabbed Daniel that he hadn't followed up with Teddy to see if his cousin and his mate were okay. He swore under his breath at the lost hours, and hurried to grab his phone from the nightstand.

  That's when he saw that he had approximately forty unread text messages. To his immense relief, at least ten of those texts were from Teddy, pinging him with increasing degrees of anxiety to see if he and Chris were okay.

  Daniel saw that Chris had answered one of the messages directed at both of their cell numbers, assuring Teddy that they were fine, but he knew he needed to respond to Teddy as well.

  Like Junior said, we're fine. Sorry about not replying sooner. Long drive
yesterday. We left town. Staying in a safe place right now. Are you and Amelie okay?

  Teddy's reply came almost instantly.

  Glad to hear you're both okay. I closed the restaurant. Not sure when I'm going to reopen. Amelie and me, we're fine, and staying at her parents' place in Lafayette. Waiting for things to cool down at home.

  The news that Teddy and his mate were okay made Daniel feel a little better.

  The remaining text messages were a mixed bag, though. Some of the texts were check-in messages from fellow pride members, reporting themselves safe in various locations outside of Albuquerque. Those were a relief. Other messages, though, confirmed yesterday's fatalities.

  Daniel already knew about Lizbeth, Alicia, and Tommy, but apparently Messerzahn's men had also ambushed the most senior member of the pride, Jeff Byouki, and his Ordinary mate Priscilla. Jeff, though nearly 80 years old, had managed to hold off his attackers long enough for the police to respond to Priscilla's frantic 911 call. Jeff had been rushed to the hospital but had died en route from his injuries.