Fire Of Love

by Preston Walker

  An unseen force snatched him up, dragged him kicking and screaming into the dark.

  Blinking rapidly, Isaac looked again. Moody peered down at him from above the hatch, having safely arrived on solid ground.

  Why did I decide to have an active imagination now, of all the possible times I could have used one?

  “I’m in,” Moody whispered. “What now, Mission Control?”

  Isaac forced a smile, aware of how uneasy it sat on his lips. The only thing which helped quell his sudden fear was the thought of Moody’s lips against his, guiding him to a place of warmth and safety. “What do you see up there?”

  “It’s a big room. Full of more machine stuff. Lots of broken shelves and things all over the floor.”

  Isaac came up to the ladder and placed his hand on either side of the frame. He really, really didn’t like the feel of the metal against his palm. If he had tried hard, he probably could have bent it with his bare hands. Hell, a random person selected off the street could probably bend it. “Do you see a way out? A door?”

  “Um… Oh! Yeah!”

  “Metal?”

  “Wood,” Moody confirmed. “Looks like it to me, anyway. Want me to go check?”

  “Wait until I get up there and then we can do it together.”

  If the door was wood, there was a good chance it would have warped and grown useless over time. Even locked, it would be easy to force open.

  “Whatever you say. Just, be careful on that ladder. It’s even worse than it looked.”

  “Noted,” Isaac replied drily.

  Still gripping the ladder, he lifted his foot and set it down on the first step. The frame creaked and jostled, then settled.

  He hadn’t even put his weight on it yet.

  This is not going to go well.

  He knew exactly what was going to happen, but he had to try.

  Leaning forward, he put more and more of his weight on the ladder. The metal bowed inward, and the entire structure shivered like a wounded kitten. Pulling in a deep breath, Isaac lifted his other foot and set it on the second step. His full weight was on the ladder now. The entire world hung in the balance.

  Then, with a sound like shrieking train brakes, the ladder tilted, bent, and then completely broke off from the ceiling.

  Isaac’s stomach wrenched terribly, a paralyzing sensation of the kind a person must experience when they realize they’ve missed a step on a staircase. Then, he was on the ground, hands and knees throbbing, the world an indistinct gray blur around him.

  Only once the whole ordeal was over did he finally have a chance to gasp. Breath whooshed out of his lungs, then came back with a series of little gusts.

  “Isaac!” Moody called, his voice edged with fear. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  Not knowing what else to do, Isaac laughed. He withdrew his hands from underneath the ladder, then sat back on his knees. “I’m dandy. Think I need to lose some weight, though.”

  Moody didn’t laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out. I’ll go around to the door and unlock it from the outside.” He drew back from the hatch.

  A sudden cold fear gripped Isaac’s stomach. He stood, reaching up to Moody as if he could keep the omega from going anywhere. “Hold on. I don’t think you should go anywhere.”

  For a moment, there was no sign of Moody. The fear clenched even tighter in his stomach, to the point where he thought he might actually be sick.

  “Moody?” He hardly knew if he actually managed to get the word out or not, everything inside him was so tense. His voice seemed to shrivel before it even reached his lips.

  Moody poked his head out over the empty space of the hatch again, his features hidden in shadow. He sounded annoyed, though. “What? I’m trying to rescue you.”

  “I’ll get worried about you if you’re gone longer than five minutes. If you can’t get to the door by then, or get it open, come back here and we’ll figure something else out.”

  “It won’t take that long, okay? Just sit tight. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Laughing softly at his own joke, Moody receded from the hatch again. This time, Isaac heard footsteps and was able to follow their progress as they thumped across the ceiling. He lost track of them after a few moments, and then there was only the dripping of pipes.

  The fear threatened to overcome him again, but he fought back against it and tried to breathe as calmly as he could.

  The hatch from above provided no light at all, which meant Isaac was quite literally in the dark. He closed his eyes, trying to focus, to not feel as if the shadows were pressing in around him, choking him, invading his being.

  Time dragged on. Even though wolves had an innate sense of the passing of seconds, Isaac had no reference down here. He was lost, floundering, adrift.

  Suddenly, a scraping sound came from high over to his right. Opening his eyes, though it made no difference, he whirled around and stared hard in the direction. More scraping sounds, a series of muted clunks, and then the door at the top of the stairs opened. Faint moonlight and dull rays of neon orange filtered down the steps, illuminating only half of them before fading out. A thin silhouette stood in the center of the light, casting a long shadow.

  “Isaac?” the silhouette said.

  His paralytic state broken, Isaac charged over to the steps and bounded up them as fast as he possibly could. Holding out his arms, he grabbed onto Moody, picked the omega up, spun him around, and then set him back down on his feet. Their lips crashed together, a chaotic dance of tongue; Isaac pulled back, breathless, then picked Moody up again in both arms.

  “Hey!” Moody said, laughing, looking startled. His lips were flushed pink from the force of the kiss. Gripping Isaac’s shoulders, Moody wiggled his feet to try and touch the ground again. “You’re happy. I get it! Put me down now!”

  “I don’t think so,” Isaac growled. He pulled Moody against his chest, wrapped both arms around him, and kissed him again. His lips forced Moody’s apart, settling against them firmly to allow his tongue to slip inside that realm of heat and wetness. Fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into him, not in denial of the embrace but in a spasm of pleasure. Moody’s tongue pressed against his, sweet and burning. Isaac played with him, their lips pressed together, no space between them at all until the very end, when they broke apart once more.

  Isaac lowered Moody to the ground, though he didn’t let him go just yet. “Sorry,” he growled, not feeling apologetic at all.

  Moody’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. He sighed softly, then leaned very deeply against Isaac. “It’s okay. I’m sure you didn’t mean to.”

  How can you keep making me laugh at a time like this, when it’s all so hopeless?

  Moody was still looking up at him, his gaze intense and yet welcoming all at once. “What do we do now that we’ve escaped? It’s up to you. Whatever you want, I’m with you.”

  For a moment, Isaac couldn’t respond. His throat was tense and tight with emotion at the power of those simple words. Whatever he wanted, Moody would be there. They could run away, start again, take a second chance on their relationship. As intense as their brief time together had been, Isaac couldn’t imagine how it would feel to go even deeper. This tenderness inside him, this affection, this attraction and lust, could it become love in a few months? A year? There was no telling where they would be in that time or what they would be doing. Still running, running forever? Or settled down, both of them working, struggling to eke out a living between the two of them?

  He didn’t think it mattered anymore.

  Lowering his head, Isaac looked deep into Moody’s eyes; which were not very moody after all, and which were quite sweet, and brought their foreheads together. Their noses touched and their lips grazed together, but he had no intention of jumping into another kiss. He just wanted to be close, in a position neither of them could look away from.

  Moody returned his look and Isaac saw his own eyes, pale gold, and the outline of his face. And
he wondered if this was how he looked to Moody all the time, if he had even really been aware of his own looks until right now. Perhaps not. He could learn to see the world in a new light all over again, looking through Moody’s eyes.

  “I want nothing more than to just disappear with you.”

  Moody flashed a handsome, crooked little smile, the sort of dreamy expression not even Edward of Twilight fame could hope to achieve. “We’ll run away to Rhode Island.”

  “What’s there?”

  “Fucking nothing. They’ll never suspect it.” Moody whispered the words, the sound of the wind whistling in his breath. His voice seemed to be more than just a means by which words were conveyed, as if the mere cadence of his speech could build worlds. “We’ll be the gay couple that throws the best parties.”

  “I hate parties.”

  “I know, but we’ll do it anyway because we want to fit in. And we’ll have jobs. I’ll be a poet and you’ll do whatever the hell it is that you’re good at. Advertising? You can sell my books. We’ll ride our motorcycles on the weekend, and drive sensible cars during the week. We’ll get married and everyone will come to our wedding. We’ll have kids and pretend that we’re adopting them instead of popping them out. And someday, when we’re discovered, it won’t matter anymore because we’ll be different people.”

  Isaac could imagine each and every aspect of the daydream woven by Moody’s whispered words. They could do it. They could leave this life behind, take steps into the next one. They could have all the things they had denied themselves. “Would you really want to do that?”

  “I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”

  “Even the part about kids?”

  Up until now, Isaac hadn’t ever thought about having a family. He imagined he might have one someday, but he hadn’t ever really considered it as something that might actually happen. It was like putting a human colony on the moon. It could happen, but the odds were against it right now.

  Now that Moody had voiced the possibility, Isaac wanted it. He wanted to see Moody grow plump with their baby, until he looked fit to burst. He wanted to pick out little outfits and toys, decorate a room for their child. He wanted to see Moody holding a pup. Their pup.

  “Well, unless you start using protection when you have sex with me, it’s going to happen.” Moody gave that little smile again. He looked very open, very warm… and also a little afraid.

  And Isaac fell in love with him fully and truly in that moment, for that fear, because it meant Moody had doubts and was going against them in favor of what he wanted to happen. He wasn’t being held back.

  Which means I can’t be held back either.

  If he let this go, if he left for Rhode Island, or Idaho, or anywhere else, he could be happy. Yet, there would always be this little voice inside him, pondering over the events of the past. A tarnished spot on a perfect picture.

  Isaac touched his lips gently to Moody’s, then shook his head, just once, very slowly. “I think we need to finish this. For good.”

  Moody clutched at him, hands roaming up his back and then into his hair. “Good!” he said.

  “Good?”

  “I’d hate to fall in love with someone who doesn’t finish what they’ve started.” Moody returned the kiss from a moment before, igniting a curl of warmth inside Isaac, and then he pulled away. Just like that, the spell was broken and reality came rushing back in. “What’s the plan, Isaac? Where do we go from here?”

  Isaac looked around, really noticing his surroundings for the first time. They were, as he had hypothesized, standing very near to the bay. The water glittered blackly, darker and more sinister somehow than the ocean he had come to know so well. All around them was a tangle of broken or decaying buildings. The road on which they stood ended abruptly at the water, then took a sharp turn off to the right, presumably wrapping around the area before eventually rejoining with the better areas of the city. Stairs led down to docks, which studded the surface of the bay like teeth; many of them were broken, tilting, collapsed, or just in an unusable state.

  “No wonder Arlo brought us all the way out here,” he mused. “It wouldn’t have mattered how much of a fuss we made. No one’s around to hear.”

  “If two wolves howl in a basement and no one is around to hear them, are they still captives?”

  Isaac smiled grimly. “Right. I’m surprised he didn’t leave any guards.” A strange expression crossed Moody’s face, a sly, knowing look. “What?”

  “He did leave a guard,” Moody said. He smiled, a secretive little grin which did handsome things to his features. “Fucking sound asleep right by the door I came out of.” Moody pointed in the right direction. “I knocked him around a little anyway, though. He never saw it coming. He’s unconscious.”

  More warmth formed inside Isaac, a fire kindled and left to burn. His cock stirred around inside his underwear with a life of its own as desire flowed through his blood. He couldn’t have asked for someone more capable to be at his side right now. The effortless way with which Moody spoke of dispatching the guard only reaffirmed the depth of his newfound feelings.

  “I guess I have to give him a little credit for having the guard,” Isaac said. “Not that it did him much good. Do you think Arlo returned home after dropping us off here?”

  “Planning on paying him a visit?”

  “That’s exactly what I want to do,” Isaac growled. “If he’s the arsonist, there has to be some sign of it where he lives. If we can find that evidence and show it to the pack, we’ll be good to go.”

  Moody shook his head. “You think it’s going to be that easy?”

  “I think we have to try. There’s nothing else I can think of. Can you?”

  “I’m not doubting you,” Moody replied. “It’s the best course of action as far as I can tell. Do you know where he lives?”

  “I know where he used to live,” Isaac growled. He clenched his hands into fists, anticipation raging through his blood. He had even more of a hard-on now, his desire mingling quite nicely with his eagerness to be done with this entire stupid charade. “He might have taken Lance’s Ferrari, but I’m pretty damn sure he didn’t take his house. So, we’ll start there. We’ve got enough time, I think, that if we’re wrong, we can try again.”

  Moody looked up at the sky. “Better not wait around.”

  Isaac shifted into wolf form without a word, dropping down lightly onto all fours despite his weight. He was more than twice the size of an average large gray wolf, and his abilities far outpaced that of the normal animal. Traveling in this manner would be quieter and faster than going around as humans, and his sharp senses could let them avoid any human they might cross paths with.

  As an added plus, a wolf was much hardier than a man. The echoing throbs of pain throughout his entire body seemed much easier to handle in this form.

  Moody also shifted, becoming a wolf with fur so dark brown it was nearly black. The sodium neon of the nearby streetlamp illuminated the brighter tones hidden in the depths of his coloration, red and gold shades like autumn leaves.

  Oddly, he retained his chain necklace.

  Most shifters were capable of transforming to animal forms and back again without shredding their clothes. Outfits, wallets, cell phones, typically came with the shifter and then reappeared again. There was no explaining this, not that there was much that could be explained about a shapeshifter in the first place. The only thing anyone could theorize was that the average person didn’t think of his personal belongings as being separate from his body, and therefore his clothes shifted with him.

  Moody didn’t think of his chains as being part of himself. He was not the man he pretended to be, putting on that dour mask to protect himself.

  Moody looked at him, twitching his ears forward. They were blunt and rounded, more like pup ears than that of a full-grown wolf. His other features were similarly omega-soft, delicate and undeniably cute. Small paws, slender frame, short muzzle. The top of his head hardly reached Is
aac’s shoulder.

  Isaac swept his tail around, brushing the long fur over Moody’s flank.

  Moody looked at him a moment longer, gaze unreadable. Then, he bent his head down and shook until the necklace dropped off his neck, cleared his ears, and clattered to the concrete.

  Shedding his former self.

  Very poetic, Isaac thought, and grinned a wolfish grin.

  He turned his back on the bay, pointed his nose in the direction of Arlo’s home, and took off running.

  11

  Isaac was a streak of silver against the flat gray of the city background, an effervescent creature of silence. His coloration was that of a normal gray wolf, with brown markings on his face and paws and tail, but he was much more beautiful than that in Moody’s eyes. When he stretched his paws forward into a leap, he became a streamlined comet, fur rippling back with the wind of his passing. Landing, muscles bunching, fur standing out in fluffy bunches along his flanks and shoulders. Propelling himself forward, landing again. A gorgeous process, a primal dance disguised as the mere act of running.

  Moody could have easily outpaced him, smaller and lighter on his paws, but he hung back because he didn’t know the way to where Arlo lived.

  And, okay, maybe he was also enjoying the show.

  He had meant everything he said before. Now the words were out, he found it even easier to let his feelings run free and unburdened inside him. Wherever Isaac went, he would follow. And if the alpha tried to do something that wasn’t good for either of them, Moody had no intentions of just letting him do it. He would give him a whack across the muzzle, one after the other, until he managed to see reason through all the stars.

  As they ran, taking alleys and backstreets, occasionally skirting around a straggling human or hiding from the beams of an approaching car, he found himself thinking of his father.

  Maybe his dad needed a couple of good whacks across the muzzle, too.

  When all of this is over, I’m going to come see you, Dad. Maybe I’ll bring Isaac with me.