Fire Of Love

by Preston Walker

  “Sounds to me like he was an asshole.”

  Moody nodded. “Can’t disagree there. But times have changed, since our parents were kids. Hell, since they were our age. Labels don’t define us anymore.” He paused, breathing slowly to get himself back on track. “Mom was always the one who stuck up for me. I was pretty much a mommy’s boy. If I wasn’t about to go jumping off a bridge, she would let me do it. And when she was gone, there was nothing to shield me from how overbearing Dad was. That’s why I had to leave. He was suffocating me. I’d already joined Shadow Claws by that point. Mom was happy I had friends.”

  She had even taken a few lessons from him on how to ride a hog. How much pain had she been in, during those bumpy rides? And still, she had gone through with it, because this was what made her son happy.

  “I wasn’t really a full member. Just kind of…associated with them. But I knew some wolves lived at the garage, so I went to talk to Destiny. And he agreed, and I moved in. And I didn’t want to be Desmond anymore, so I became Moody.”

  Really, that was where the story ended. Everyone knew what had happened after that. The third pack. Those killers. The wave of death across Pensacola. The broken aftermath, as Lethal Freedom struggled to adjust to their new positions in the conjoined pack.

  And now this. Stuck in a basement, waiting for morning so they could…

  “Be honest with me, Isaac,” Moody said. “What do you think is going to happen when they come back?”

  Isaac sighed softly. He had been doing that quite a lot, and each time he seemed more and more deflated. “I think when they come back, we’re going to be taken to somewhere with a bunch of wolves from my old pack. I think they’re going to look at me like they don’t even know who I am anymore. Then, there’s going to be a mock trial. Fake evidence presented, coincidence made fact. Someone is going to conclude that everyone would be safer if I’m dead, especially since the fires didn’t stop when I was kicked out last time. I’m going to die. And then you’re going to die, because you know too much.” He paused. “It probably still won’t be enough in their eyes. After all, two of us dead isn’t equal to the amount they’ve lost. But it would appease them. I hope.”

  Moody tucked himself closer to Isaac, sheltering against his broad side. Snuggled up against him, it was easy to forget the chilly experiences from only a few minutes before. The only thing that couldn’t be helped by Isaac’s heat was his sodden hair, which felt like icicles where it touched his skin.

  “This seems like a whole hell of a long way to go, just to kill us for no reason.”

  Isaac turned his head. Moody looked back at him, relieved to see a spark entering Isaac’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think someone’s trying to cover something up?” Moody said. He sat up a little straighter, the spoken words making much more sense than they had in his mind. “Someone in the pack, planting evidence, blaming you?”

  “That makes some sense,” Isaac murmured. “But not a lot.” He stirred around slightly, his eyes narrowing with concentration. He made a low, contemplative sound deep in the back of his throat.

  Watching Isaac come to life filled Moody with a tender emotion he thought he’d forgotten about.

  “Convince me of something, Moody. Why would someone start all these fires, then blame me for it, and then start making more fires after an unreasonably long period of time? Why was there a gap?”

  Moody frowned a little. “I’m no detective, but maybe the arsonist has a problem? They tried to quit and then gave up on it. Or, they broke. Couldn’t resist. So, they blamed it on you. Or maybe, someone was going to realize it was them, so they planted evidence as a distraction.”

  “Why did Lance die?” Isaac whispered. “And why is Arlo in charge?”

  Moody looked at Isaac, eyes wide. His thoughts also felt wide somehow, as if the realization had literally blown his mind wide open. “You think Arlo killed Lance, because he was about to figure something out?”

  Isaac stood up suddenly, dislodging Moody. Moody stood up too as the alpha paced, arms half-raised, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “More than that. I think Arlo is the arsonist.”

  10

  Isaac thought he knew betrayal when his pack chased him away from the only home he had ever known. Now he knew he was wrong.

  Arlo was covering up something, whether it was his fiery habits or something else. Arlo was stabbing him in the back, then shoving him out onto the street in front of an oncoming bus. That was what betrayal was really like, pain and indignation followed by a devastating crash.

  But, where to go from a crash, except up again?

  As he stood there in the basement, his gaze wandered slowly upward, following the tangled web of pipes.

  Moody followed his gaze. They were standing very close together, shoulders and hips brushing together. Rather than being distracting, the warmth of his presence was incredibly welcome. Before he ever really knew what he was doing, Isaac reached out and wrapped his arm around Moody’s waist.

  The omega didn’t pull away.

  When this is all over, I want to try to do things with you the right way. I’ll make up for my mistakes. And if you don’t want me, then at least we gave it a better shot.

  Isaac closed his eyes, then opened them again. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what came next. This might well be the longest night of his entire life.

  The most important night, and he was going to have to get through it after being Tasered five times. There had been one more time in the Ferrari on the ride here; he had no intention of telling Moody about that.

  “I think I know where we are,” he said.

  Moody made a small sound in the back of his throat. “What, you have the city so memorized that you can get around blindfolded?”

  Isaac grinned. It felt so good to grin, to be doing something again. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  “You’re so cliché sometimes,” Moody murmured. He sounded breathless, and a quick glance in his direction confirmed that his cheeks were flushed pink. The front of his jeans bulged outward in a gentle and pleasing manner. Clearly, he liked it when Isaac was being clichéd, in-charge and confident. “So, great navigator, where are we?”

  “Easy,” Isaac said. “I don’t know exactly what all this machinery in here is for, but it looks to me like it involves pumps and water. All these pipes.”

  “Brilliant deductions. I am very confident in you. Please continue.”

  “I think we’re near a dock. Which means we’re somewhere along the bay, probably in a fishing area instead of a tourist one. Some of these boats are designed to take on a certain amount of water. It’s for buoyancy. Depth control. But once you get that water in, I don’t think you can push it back out. So, they need it pumped out.”

  “That sounds like the most bullshit explanation I have ever heard,” Moody said. “Isn’t it just as likely that we’re just in the basement of some abandoned restaurant or something? Or an apartment? A resort?”

  Isaac shrugged. “Whatever. The point is, I think we’re below the waterline here on this side. The ground slants. You can tell from the walls. Or, at least, we’re very close to the water. I don’t think they’re allowed to make a building like this without having two exits. If there’s a breach and one exit is inaccessible, there has to be another.”

  Moody let out a startled, disbelieving little laugh. “And here I was thinking that we could just try to kick the door down.”

  Isaac looked in the direction of the staircase. The door loomed at the very top, like a passive god standing over suffering peasants. Splotches of rust covered the surface. “It’s made of metal. And I heard it shut. The frame looks fine. And the locks look like new.”

  “Newly-installed?”

  “Or just made of something that doesn’t rust. I don’t relish trying to kick down an iron door.” God, how that would hurt right now. “And what if one of us loses our balance, breaks our neck falling down the stair
s?”

  “So, you want to take the other exit.” Moody crossed his arms, looking around the basement. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t see another door or anything.”

  “Check out the ceiling. Maybe we’ll find something.”

  Moody shrugged and moved off, craning his head backward to look up at the ceiling. He still had his arms crossed, though he didn’t really seem to be looking very argumentative. In fact, he looked amused. He probably imagined their search would turn up nothing, and they would be forced to go back to the door.

  Isaac imagined kicking the door where it connected to the frame, trying to weaken the connection there. Or going for the doorknob, trying to break that to render the lock useless. But what if there were other locks on the outside they couldn’t see?

  In a flash, he envisioned himself bouncing off the door, the shock reverberating through his body. Stumbling back, his foot meeting empty air. Arms pinwheeling, a rush of tingles racing through his veins. A quick moment of dread, then falling, tumbling, breaking something with a resounding crack. An arm or a leg would be devastating; what if it was his neck instead? His back?

  Worse yet, what if the one to fall was Moody? He would refuse to just hang back while Isaac did all the work. If they took turns going at the door, there was still a chance something would go wrong.

  “Hey!”

  Isaac jerked out of his reverie and looked over at Moody, who was staring in his direction. “Find something?”

  “Not yet. I just think you should be helping too, since this was your idea.” Moody gave him a small smile, clearly trying to let him know that he was teasing.

  Smiling back, Isaac got to work. He went over to the far corner, looked up at the ceiling, and started walking.

  For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. They combed the ceiling together, carefully inspecting for some sign of a hatch or trapdoor.

  Just as Isaac was about to give up, since his view of the ceiling was now obscured by a dangling system of pipes, he heard a crow of delight coming from the other side of the room. He turned his head, feeling eyes on him.

  Moody beamed, his eyes alight and spicy-sweet. “You smart fucker!” he cried, happiness threading through what might otherwise have been a sarcastic remark. “Come look at this!”

  Isaac headed over, heart beating faster in his chest at the possibility of escape. “Well?” he demanded.

  Moody pointed almost directly overhead. “There! Tell me what that looks like to you?”

  Isaac looked. At first, he couldn’t see much of anything. Gray ceiling, a tangle of busted pipes that glistened with streams of slimy water. He squinted, and realized that what he had thought was a shadow from the pipes couldn’t actually be a shadow. Shadows were cast down, only slanting up when the light source was beneath. And since there weren’t any bright lights on the floor in here…

  It was a square, about three feet by three feet, marked with a dark outline of a substance that might once have been paint. A small circle differentiated one end of the square from the other.

  “It’s a hatch,” Isaac said. His voice trembled with excitement. He hardly dared to believe this was actually happening, that it was actually real. “Just like I said.”

  “It reminds me of the pull-down ladder things that some houses have,” Moody mused. “To get into the attic.”

  “It does,” Isaac agreed.

  The ceiling was several feet out of reach even when he stretched his hand up.

  “I don’t think that’s how it works,” Moody said. “Look.” He pointed at the little indented circle Isaac had seen. “Look, I bet that’s where the string came down so you could pull the ladder. But where’s the string?”

  “Broken-off,” Isaac said. “Or taken off, when Arlo checked this place out to see if he could stick us here. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re going to have to stand on my shoulders.”

  Moody laughed. He pumped his fist. “Yes! I’ve always wanted to walk on another person.”

  Isaac laughed too, his heart feeling very full. “I said stand. But now that I think about it, we shouldn’t even need to do that. I’ll boost you up. You stick your finger in there and… stop laughing, this is serious.”

  Moody chuckled. “I think I’ve got it. Let’s do it. On your knees, Isaac.”

  Bowing mockingly, Isaac went down on his knees. His abused muscles throbbed but he gritted his teeth against the feeling. Tilting his face up, he gave Moody his best grin. “Your wish is my command.” He held out both hands, palm up.

  “I should have just let you keep sitting over there, being depressed. You’re much more annoying when you’re playful.” Moody reached out, grabbed Isaac’s shoulders for balance, then stepped up into his hand with one foot, and then the other.

  Wrapping his fingers around Moody’s shoes, Isaac said, “Coming up,” and stood as slowly as possible. Moody’s knees wobbled, his ankles trembling, and then his balance evened out.

  “Okay, stop,” Moody said. His voice was tense. “I think I’ve discovered a new fear of heights.”

  Isaac snorted, amusement and affection blending inside him to form something new and precious. Moody wasn’t all that heavy to lift, even in an awkward position like this. In fact, he rather liked it, having the other man completely dependent upon his support.

  Maybe when we get through all this, I’ll carry you some more. Properly.

  “Let me just…”

  If he looked up, Isaac knew he would become unbalanced. He only stayed in the same position, staring intensely at Moody’s legs. The awkward posture hurt his back, and now his forearms were aching from Moody’s weight. From above came a series of scraping sounds, followed by an exasperated growl.

  “How are things going up there?” Isaac asked.

  “Damp,” Moody responded, sounding more tense than ever. “Can’t really get it. Hold on…”

  Isaac waited a few more moments, then opened his mouth to suggest a different method, maybe it would be easier on both of them if Moody actually did get on his shoulders. A satisfied grunt interrupted him, and then Moody’s weight left his hands as the omega jumped out of the way of something flat and weighty coming right for him.

  Acting on instinct, Isaac stumbled backward. He tried to rise up from the odd position he was in, unbalanced, and fell on his ass. A split second later, the end of a ladder crashed down right where he’d been standing, carrying with it an enormous cloud of dust.

  Coughing, covering his mouth with his hand, Isaac stood up again. “My ass hurts.”

  “Now you know how I feel,” Moody said, deadpan. He let out a laugh after a moment, then came over and wrapped an arm around Isaac’s waist. “But would you look at that?”

  Isaac shivered as pleasure coiled low in his groin, like a snake about to strike. He looked at the ladder, their way out, and thought that it really wasn’t all that impressive for all the sound it had made coming down. There was no real substance to it, just thin metal slats on a rickety silver frame.

  “You go up first,” Isaac said.

  Moody held on tighter to him, looking up through the dark gap of the opened hatch. Isaac couldn’t pierce the shadows with his vision to know what the omega was seeing, if anything. “Why me?”

  “Scared?” he teased, gently.

  Growling low in the back of his throat, Moody pushed away from him and grabbed onto the frame of the ladder. The structure shifted and wobbled even with just that small amount of stress. “Of course, I’m scared. Just wondering why me.”

  Isaac reached out, placed his hand on top of Moody’s, then pulled the omega to him. Their chests pressed together, their hips lining up in that perfect way which he had taken for granted in the past. Lowering his head, he went to kiss the omega… and reconsidered, and kissed his forehead instead. Keeping his lips there, he whispered, “I just want to make sure you get up there safely. I don’t want the ladder to break when I use it, and leave you stuck down here.”

  Silence for a moment, then Mo
ody said, “You could just leave and open the door from the outside.”

  “What if there’s a padlock, or something I need a key for?”

  “You could toss down some furniture or something for me to stand on.”

  “What if the building above is as gutted as the basement?”

  Moody scowled, his forehead crinkling underneath Isaac’s lips. “You’re postulating a lot of improbable scenarios, here. That’s supposed to be my job, thinking of things that will never happen.”

  Even though he knew that wasn’t a jab aimed at him, Isaac winced anyway. “I just have to be sure, okay?”

  Pulling away, Moody looked at him for a moment. He lifted up both hands, wrapped them around Isaac’s face, and held him in place while bringing their lips together. The kiss lasted only a moment, a glance of contact that was there and then gone just as quickly. “Okay,” he whispered, then turned around and started to climb up the ladder.

  Every step he took caused a chain reaction of creaks and groans, the ladder bouncing and jostling beneath his body. Isaac winced again, bracing himself, at the ready to catch Moody if necessary.

  Moody climbed higher, moving as carefully as possible. He muttered a curse under his breath every time the ladder settled into a new position, which meant he was letting loose with a constant stream of swears. And then he yelped, jerking his hand back and shaking it out.

  Isaac stepped forward, reaching out to the ladder before thinking better of it. What if he touched the damn thing and it all fell apart? That would be just his luck. “Are you okay?” he called up.

  Moody turned his head and scowled down at him, apparently forgetting his newfound fear of minor heights. “There’s no need to yell. I’m literally right here.”

  “Sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Just got pinched. Just a little more, though. I think I can make it. It seems like it’s going to hold.” Moody started to climb again, and his hand passed through the hole in the ceiling.