Then the werewolf and wolf hybrid jumped at each other, jaws snapping and claws raking. I blinked and scrambled for my sword. I needed to help her. But the moment my fingers reached the hilt of my weapon, a black boot stepped on it. Standing on the blade of my sword was one of the four other men who were part of the Wolf gang. His lips parted and he exposes a smile full of wolf-like canines.
Just then, a loud crash made me cover my ears and cower closer to the floor. Metal twisted and screeched on metal. The front glass doors shattered in, sending bits of plate glass in all directions. Just how old was this building that the doors wouldn't have been made of safety glass? One of the large shards had flown across and stabbed my assailant in the chest. Then he stumbled backward, his foot releasing my sword as he coughed up bits of blood. I yanked my sword up and stood. The dust settled, revealing a yellow and black taxi cab. Dean was beating against his door, trying to get it open, but it seemed stuck against one of the supporting columns.
"Dean!" I shouted and began to run his direction, but there on the ground laid Seven, motionless, and Burnhardt was pulling himself back up, grabbing a block of concrete and lifting it over his head, ready to crush Seven's skull.
"No!" I rushed forward, and stepped upon something that caused my foot to slip and my ankle to twist slightly. Then what felt like an electric current ran up my leg and into my body. I lifted my foot and found the red Angel Stone. Bending down, I grabbed it up and held it tightly in my hand.
Burnhardt's death blow was coming down toward Seven's unconscious head. There was no time. I couldn't get there in time to save her. The stone grew suddenly hotter in my hand, and bits of concrete and glass began levitating around me. Without another thought, all the pieces went flying toward Burnhardt, hitting him in the shoulders, chest, and arms.
He dropped the block he'd been holding and it fell toward Seven's skull, then stopped mid-air, just above my dog's head.
Then it too slammed against Burnhardt's chest, knocking him back.
The heat in my hand became overwhelming as the stone burned. It was too hot to hold, but I knew if I dropped it my troubles would multiply. A clear, bluish fire began to form around my hand.
A growl emanated from my left as one of the remaining gang members jumped my direction to attack. But his body was stopped before he could reach me and then he was thrown backward against the concrete wall. The redheaded gang member held a handgun pointed my direction and opened fire.
I winced, closing my eyes, expecting the bullets to penetrate my body. Each deafening bang caused me to wince more. Expecting the burning pain, I tensed up, but nothing happened. When I opened my eyes again, I watched the nine bullets, floating in the air around me, each one of them burning with blue flame. Then they all were returned to their owner.
His howls and screams were cut short before his body hit the ground.
The remaining two gang members ran.
The glass windshield on the cab came crashing out as Dean kicked it and pushed the safety glass aside with his fedora wrapped around his hand. "Scarlet!" he yelled. "Are you okay?"
I smiled at him, my whole world brightening just a little bit in the chaos. Then I heard a low whine. Seven was trying to sit up, but she couldn't and laid back down again.
Burnhardt had already made it to his feet and rushed my direction. The stone burned in my hand once more and froze the werewolf just when his claw-like hand had wrapped around mine.
The blue flames around my hand set his hand on fire as well. But where my flesh hadn't been consumed, his began to burn. The scent of burning flesh and hair accosted my nose. The crackling sound of fire consuming his hand made my jaw tighten. The flames climbed up his arm.
"Let go," I told him, my voice raspy to my ears.
He squeezed my hand harder, his snarl looking both menacing and full of pain. "I must have this power. Give it to me."
The power in the stone comforted me, letting me know that everything was going to be all right. The stone felt warm in my hand, my burning hand began to cool. I shook my head at him, my tone becoming serene. "You need to let it go."
His icy blue eyes met mine and I realized that the wolf in Burnhardt was fading, his face had already returned to mostly human, just needing a shave and a haircut, with fangs protruding slightly from his lips. His tone had become whiny, desperate. "I can't let go. I must have it."
The flames had made their way to his shoulder and he winced away from it, trying to pull his face from the flames, then finally, they blazed, consuming his whole body in an instant. And at that moment, he finally let go.
But it was too late.
His body was blazing with blue flames. He dropped to the ground, crying and screaming and growling. He rolled but the flames would not go out. He continued to writhe and burn for a few minutes before he finally went still. The blue flames consumed him quicker than any fire I could have imagined. Then suddenly the flames went out.
And the stone became completely cool in my palm at the same time. I opened my hand and stared at the red stone. How on Earth did it do the things it did?
"He's dead," Dean declared as he knelt over the Burnhardt's burnt form. "Two of the other guys are gone, too. But Seven's alive. She's hurt, though I don't know how badly."
I blinked, coming to my senses. "Seven!" I yelled, rushing toward my best friend.
I picked up her limp form and hugged her to me. She licked my face. Tears flowed harder. "You're such a good girl. I knew I could count on you."
The stone in my hand began to glow but didn't grow hot this time. I had it held up against Seven's body the whole time I was holding her.
She whined slightly and licked me again. Then she struggled in my arms. Surprised, I released her. Seven stood up and did a full body shake, sending bits of concrete dust in all directions. Then she looked at me and began to pant. I could swear she was smiling. Relieved, I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her against me again.
"Was it the Angel Stone, girl?" I said, the smile on my face growing as relief unknotted my shoulders. "I guess I've got a lot to be thankful for."
Chapter 10
Dean scratched Seven behind the ears as he stood on the main deck of the yacht and watched Albert try to flirt with Gladys unsuccessfully as she distributed her latest baking creation. He leaned down toward the dog, and asked, “So, was it just my boat you were weary of then, girl? Since you got on this one no problem as soon as Scarlet called you aboard.”
The wolf-hybrid looked up at me with liquid brown eyes and seemed to lift a brow. Dean shook his head and scoffed. No way. He had to have been imagining that one.
“Chocolate chip cookie, Dean?” Gladys offered a tray of baked goods under his nose.
He smiled and pulled a warm cookie off the plate. “They smell heavenly. Thank you.”
With a warm smile, he nodded her welcome and then continued around the ship, offering a cookie as she went around, stopping to talk to the one married couple Dean had rescued on Fifth Street. The gentleman played chess with Albert, and it looked as if Albert wasn’t doing well in the match. Still, his wide smile kept things from getting awkward.
Watching the folks around him made him feel as though he’d just entered a retirement community. And that was okay with him. They comforted him and almost made him feel at home. But one thing was missing.
His eyes flicked toward the upper deck where he knew Scarlet had decided to stay with George. As if he’d called to her, she suddenly appeared at the railing, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze and her skin aglow in the lights that lined the railings of the yacht. After offering Seven another scratch behind the ears, he headed for the stairs and the upper deck.
The yacht pulled out of the harbor under the night sky. I turned to George. "Are you sure you'll be able to navigate in the dark?"
He laughed. "Sailors have always preferred travelling at night, with the stars to guide them."
Relieved, I scratched Seven behind the ears while she leaned ag
ainst my leg. I moved to the end of the steering area and looked out onto the deck. We'd saved nearly all of my patients. Even Charles, who we'd found in the factory after Burnhardt had died. The two gang members who were left brought him to me as a peace offering.
With Burnhardt's death, Wolf was done for. They'd no longer have the government of the city under their thumb. But I didn't want to wait around and see if the rules about the purge were suddenly going to change overnight. I wanted to get my loved ones to safety. Because that was what these people were to me. Charles, George, Albert, Gladys and all the rest of them. They were my family and I'd make sure they were safe anywhere we went. But I knew we wouldn't return to Crystal City, at least not for a while.
Below on the main deck, my family of patients laughed and joked together, drinking sodas and playing board games. It looked like a party instead of people who had just escaped their deaths. The sight of it all brought a smile to my lips.
Then I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders. "You did it, Scarlet, you saved them."
I looked up at him and blinked, his eyes shining in the light off the steering deck. "We did it."
He half laughed. "I did nothing but drive the cab."
"Straight through the doors of a factory. Seven and I definitely wouldn't have made it through that situation without your intervention."
He shrugged against my shoulder. "I don't know, you seemed to be handling yourself just fine without me. How did you do all that anyway?"
I shrugged, unsure of what I should tell him about the Angel Stone.
He shook his head. "I guess every woman has got to have some secrets. But didn’t I say how we had something to talk about when all this was over?"
My heart fluttered a bit as I remembered the one secret I'd revealed to him before heading off to Mabel's place. Blood rushed to my face at the memory. At first, I avoided looking at him, afraid he'd hear my thundering heart or feel the heat in my skin against his arm. I watched the lights of the city as they slowly faded away. After several minutes, I peered up at him sheepishly through my lashes.
And found him looking back down at me, a soft, crooked smile gracing his lips and all his feelings for me painted in those blue-gray eyes. Butterflies somersaulted in my stomach. His arms pulled me closer into him, and he turned me so that I faced him full on and couldn't avoid him anymore.
"I love you, too," he said before leaning in and brushing his lips against mine.
I gasped, my eyes growing wide as heat rushed through my body like the Angel Stone had done, but I knew this time it had nothing to do with the stone. He smiled again at me and then lean in and kissed me once more, this time in earnest, and he nibbled at my bottom lip before pulling back again. But I grabbed hold of his shirt collar and pulled him back to me. His lips pressed to mine and the passion consumed us. After hearing and feeling his confession, I was never going to let him escape.
The End
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About the Author
Pauline Creeden is an award-winning, USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary fantasy, apocalyptic thrillers, and steampunk. She tries to keep her stories bright and inspirational, but reflective of the dark world surrounding us. Last Escape is the first in the Dystopian Fairy Tales she’s begun to write. 2018 has been a productive year, as Pauline Creeden has released more than six books out of the twelve she has planned.
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