by Edith DuBois
Ezra approached with a fresh round of beers for everyone, even for him and Will. He nodded at the Yeats twins in thanks and noticed Will did the same. Lianne squeezed his arm and snuck him a smile when no one else was looking. They were making an effort to fit in and get along with everyone, mostly because it made Lianne so happy. But the Yeatses weren’t horrible. Although with Jamie around, their musk emissions were out of control. Seb was actually glad for the dank, smokey aroma that permeated Catdaddy’s since it masked the musk a bit.
“What Jamie means,” Cleve said, taking a generous swig, “is that this is merely the pre-party. We’ve got ourselves a nice stash out a ways.”
Ezra gave Cleve an annoyed look.
“What?” Cleve asked. “These two are engaged to Lianne. She’s our fiancée’s sister-cousin or whatever. They’re gonna hear about the distillery sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. I want to pop open that new batch tonight. May as well invite them along. They’re practically our brothers.”
Seb stiffened at the term. So did Will. So did Ezra.
Cleve noticed. “Okay, ‘brothers’ may be a bit strong. How about ‘friends.’ Can everyone live with that?”
Seb and Will nodded. Eventually Ezra did, too.
A few hours later, after driving away from the hubbub of the town into the dark of the mountains, they parked next to Jamie and her two fiancés in a small clearing that was hidden from the road. They climbed out and walked on a small trail that led to an abandoned warehouse’s entrance.
Ezra and Cleve slid back two large metal doors.
“We don’t need lights, right?” Cleve asked. Seb could make out everyone clearly, but Lianne’s grip tightened on his arm.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I’ll make sure you don’t run into anything.” There were only a few crates and pieces of junk scattered here and there on the floor. A warm, yeasty smell had filled Seb’s nose the moment they walked in, and he thought it was probably coming from where Cleve and Ezra now headed on the far side of the warehouse.
“We like to store a small stash here on occasion, just in case we need it for an emergency.”
“I hope no one minds drinking out of the bottle.”
Seb wasn’t fond of it, in fact, but he held his tongue, deciding that Lianne would probably interpret it as surliness. He could deal with it for one night.
The Yeatses each took a hearty swig, and then Jamie took one, followed by Lianne. Then the bottle went to Will. He took a delicate sniff of the liquid, shrugged, and then tossed back a swallowful of the stuff.
“Damn.” He sputtered a little bit and cleared his throat. “That is some stout stuff.”
Seb took the bottle next. He was the last one to get a drink, but before he did, he held the bottle up. “I’d like to make a toast.”
“Hell yeah!” Jamie gave him a high five.
“To Lianne,” he said, “who taught me that it’s okay to be stuck somewhere as long as you’re with the people you want to be stuck with.”
“Aww.” Lianne leaned in for a kiss, and he obliged. Will followed suit.
“How come I didn’t get a toast?” Jamie asked with a pout.
“That’s real fucking sweet,” Ezra said, growling.
“Yeah, are you trying to show us up in front of our lady?” Cleve took a step closer with his chest thrust out.
“Hey, don’t get your panties in a twist because I know how to treat my woman and you so obviously do not.”
Seb had said it as a joke, but the moment the words were out of his mouth, he realized he’d made a huge mistake. Both Ezra and Cleve stared at him, their lips slightly curled back. Will took a step closer to him, placing Lianne a little behind.
“He was kidding,” Lianne said. “Come on, guys. Let’s just have some fun.”
After another long, tense moment, Ezra’s face broke and he let out a long stint of laughter. “You should have seen your faces. Both of you.” He bent over laughing.
“Har, har.” Seb brought the bottle to his lips and took a long swig. At first it didn’t seem too bad, and he wondered what everyone had been coughing and groaning about. But then the burn hit. He felt it from the back of his throat, down his esophagus, and all the way into his belly.
He cut off his gulp and had to fight from spewing the last mouthful all over the place. “That’s pretty strong,” he croaked out. Ezra burst into a fresh round of laughter. Even Lianne and Will joined in. Soon they were all laughing and passing the bottle around, sharing childhood stories, and talking about plans for Lianne’s business. Of course, the two ladies couldn’t keep from discussing their weddings even though they wouldn’t be happening for a few months. Seb didn’t mind. He just liked listening to his woman, watching her talk and laugh, being close to her and touching her arm, her neck, her elbow, her hand.
“Does anyone smell that?” Will asked after a little bit of time had passed. There were still about three quarters of the bottle left. Seb took a tentative sniff of the air. There was a hint of smoke. The lion-shifters sucked in deep breaths as well.
“I smell it,” Cleve said.
They all walked toward the entrance to the warehouse and tugged the metal doors open again. The sight that greeted his eyes sent a surge of fear mixed with rage through his entire body. The combination of emotions was primal and unstoppable, and for a moment, thought failed him as he took the sight in.
A wildfire, unfathomably large for the short amount of time they’d been inside the warehouse, was sweeping toward Savage Valley. It was racing down the Makuas on the northwestern side of town. Outside the warehouse, the smell of smoke was strong enough to make his eyes water, and Seb fought the urge to rip into his bear skin and race toward the fire. He needed to stop it. He needed to make sure everyone in town was a safe distance away.
But he had to think of Lianne.
He had to think about her first. He had to make sure she got out.
“Oh my god,” she and Jamie whispered at the same time. “Oh my god,” they said again but with a growing note of panic.
Lianne clutched his arm. “We have to get back to town. We have to warn everybody.”
Seb looked at his brother. Then he looked at the Yeats twins. If they wanted to make sure their women were safe, they had to think fast and they had to work together. He hoped that he could trust them to back him up because he knew his woman wouldn’t take kindly to what he was about to say. He figured Jamie would react the same way, and he hoped the Yeatses were smart enough to follow along.
“Lianne, sweetie,” he said. Immediately, a suspicious look appeared across her features. “You have to get out of here. I know you can’t leave Savage Valley, but go to Bohagande. Find out exactly where the furthest place to go within our boundaries is. Then go there. Take Jamie with you. Don’t stop. Don’t pick anyone up. Just please do what I say.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Jamie grabbed her arm. “He’s right,” she said. “We have to go, Lianne. We can’t stop that. There’s no way.” She tugged on Lianne’s arm, trying to drag her to one of the cars.
“Wait!” Lianne wrenched free and ran back to him and Will. “Don’t you dare do anything stupid that will get you hurt. Take care of each other.” She grasped Seb’s shirtfront and spoke in low, urgent tones. “I love you.”
She pressed her lips hard against his mouth, then Will’s.
After they broke their kiss, they turned back to the flames for a moment. The orangey-red light washed over all of their faces. Seb could see the fear in Lianne’s eyes as she took the sight in. He grabbed her hand, overwhelmed by the sight and needing to feel her touch for just a second more.
Because this was a hungry fire. It had already eaten several acres in the minute or two since they’d walked out of the warehouse.
It was hungry and it was angry, and it was headed straight for Savage Valley.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Although she grew up in small-town Texas, Edith has live
d and traveled in both France and the UK. She currently resides in Central Texas but wouldn’t mind a gallivant or two across the Australian Outback, the Highlands of Scotland, or any other foreign land that happens to interest her.
She’s been writing since she was eight or nine, but she never thought about writing as a career until she handed in her first short story to her high school English teacher. She had so much fun writing it and spending time with her characters and actually finishing it that she started another, and she hasn’t stopped since. Edith enjoys writing in all sorts of genres and forms, including song writing and script writing, but no matter what, love is always at the center of her stories.
Edith’s idea of passing a perfect hour would be to cuddle up next to the window with one of her favorite books, a big ol’ mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon in her hand, and Patsy Cline softly crooning from her record player in the background.
You can e-mail Edith at [email protected] or find her on Twitter at twitter.com/EdithDWrites.
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