Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

by H. P. Mallory

  Even though he didn’t look happy about it, he nodded, his eyes never leaving Rand’s. I took Rand’s hand—more so to remove him from my house than as a show of affection. I led him back outside where the rain had begun to let up and now just bathed the ground in a light dew.

  “Did you have to be so rude?” I asked as soon as we were alone.

  “Rude? I wasn’t being rude. I was concerned for your safety and…”

  “Well, regardless, you weren’t friendly,” I interrupted, wrapping my arms around myself. England was damn cold.

  “And what the hell were you doing traipsing through the forest in the rain anyway?”

  The anger melted out of his gaze and was replaced with a cold embarrassment as he seemed to struggle to find an excuse. “I was taking a walk.”

  I shook my head as a smile played with my lips. “In the middle of the pouring rain? I’ve never seen you take a walk before…”

  “Yes, I decided to get some fresh air!” he interrupted, and his voice was back to being angry—I guessed he wasn’t comfortable with the fact that I could see through his alibi like a pair of shorts with a hole.

  “Okay, okay.”

  Rand looked like he was about to argue, but then thought better of it and swallowed the sentiment. “It’s true what he said—that you’re…his?”

  Ah yes, that meant he caught on to the “Me Tarzan, you my woman” conversation. It was a good question and one I hadn’t really decided myself. It would’ve been nice had Trent consulted me, but I guess I didn’t object to being his girlfriend, or his woman as the case may be.

  “Well, I guess so, I mean we never talked about it, but I guess it’s true.”

  Rand was quiet for a moment, and then his expression turned into one a librarian would give a noisy child. “Then you have disregarded my advice that the wolf can’t be trusted. He’s bloody well put your life in jeopardy…”

  “Bella would’ve come after me anyway,” I muttered even though I doubted the intelligence of Trent’s actions, myself.

  “Jolie,” he looked away, and his jaw was tight. He faced me again, and I could tell it was taking his entire wherewithal not to scream at me. “Sometimes you are so stubborn.”

  I laughed, but it was a hollow and caustic sound. “I’m stubborn? You, Rand, are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

  He sighed in what I figured was frustration. “There’s no use arguing with you. I hope you just keep your eyes open and don’t trust him.” When it appeared I was going to bicker with him, he intercepted. “Anyway, I’m sorry I disturbed you as I didn’t think you had company.”

  He turned on his heel and started to walk away. I was about to call after him, to attempt to reconcile any damage I’d done, but I realized it was fruitless. I needed to let Rand go. He needed to know I was with someone else. But watching him walk down the driveway, I didn’t feel especially good about my decision.

  #

  One week later and it seemed Bella’s preparations for a unionized front of otherworldly creatures was coming down to the wire. Now, it wasn’t just werewolves who were seeking refuge in England—a multitude of creatures sought haven in the neutrality of Europe.

  Every time I turned around, I heard news of a new pack of wolves or a group of vampires—a gaggle of vampires?—making their home in Rand’s territory. The fairies still kept to themselves, playing it as neutral as Switzerland, and I hadn’t learned of any demons who were heading this way.

  Trent and I sat across from two werewolves who’d escaped from the U.S. to join ranks with Trent. In a matter of days, Trent’s pack had tripled in size. While the new numbers had pleased him to no end, I hadn’t been as excited. My time with Trent was rare enough as it was, and now he was so busy, I felt like I didn’t even have a boyfrind.

  The two wolves with whom we were having dinner were old friends of Trent’s, from a pack he’d known since childhood. They were a brother and sister, Jeffrey and Anne, both dark in hair and eyes and nice looking. Anne had a heart shaped face with a bit of a wide nose and large looming eyes. Her dark hair fell down to her waist and like most wolves, it was thick and luxurious. Jeffrey also shared the same thick and dark hair and though his wasn’t quite as long as his sister’s, it still graced his shoulders and required a band to keep it out of his face.

  From the look of it, Anne seemed to be harboring quite the affection for Trent—it was there in the way she watched him with her doe eyes and how she giggled after everything he said, funny or not. I wasn’t jealous, maybe a little bit, but only by the fact that she knew him far better than I did. That and she was spending a lot more time with him than I was. Of course, it was all in the name of building a solid pack, but still…I didn’t have to like it.

  “How many more wolves are migrating over?” I asked as I sipped my drink, feigning interest in the conversation. My mind was swimming with thoughts more along the line of this woman, her relationship with Trent and exactly how well acquainted she was with him.

  Trent faced me, and his hand went to my thigh, squeezing it.

  Take that werewolf girl, I thought, and then got annoyed with myself for being so petty.

  “We have no way of knowing until they get here, but it seems they’re either siding with Bella or seeking refuge here. There’s no in between,” Jeffrey said.

  “Meanwhile the Lurkers have struck again,” Trent said with a frown.

  I watched a fire ignite behind Anne’s eyes as she watched him. I would’ve bet fifty bucks she had no idea what he’d just said. I could almost read her thoughts and they all centered around what a catch Trent was, now that he was leader of a very large pack.

  “They were the group of humans sworn to destroy all creatures of the Underworld?” I asked, forcing my eyes from Anne, lest she notice the anger that sparked in their depths.

  Trent nodded, his arm going around my shoulders.

  “Great, more good news,” I muttered, playing with the ice in my glass.

  “Where?” Jeffrey asked, ignoring my comment.

  “Arizona. They killed two vampires,” Anne finished. Wow, so she had been paying attention. I guess I’d have to eat humble pie.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to separate ourselves from Bella’s forces when there seems to be a larger threat looming above us?” I asked. Even though I didn’t have the warm fuzzies about Bella and recognized her for the witch (ha ha) she was, it seemed a dangerous proposition to separate ourselves when the Lurkers could attack again at any time. We would be much stronger as a collective force.

  “Of course it isn’t the best situation, but we don’t have an alternative. Bella’s made her inteions clear and she’s playing by her rules. We’ll have to face her and then the Lurkers,” Jeffrey said.

  Luckily, it seemed the Lurkers weren’t organized in their attacks. They were more guerilla warfare style, taking out random creatures here and there with no military precision whatsoever. Not that I was up on military tactics at all…only a few years ago I’d learned guerilla warfare had nothing to do with monkeys.

  “Looks like it’ll be war,” Trent finished and downed his drink.

  The mention of war left my palms clammy. Wars were one thing when you learned about them in history class or watched a news reporter in some godforsaken place via the TV. But when you, yourself, are thrown into the middle of a brewing one, it’s not an enviable position. And fighting against vampires, wolves and demons? I’d rather rent the movie, thank you very much.

  Anne finished her drink and placed it on the table with a thud. Her glazed eyes and swaying body bore testament to the fact that she was inebriated. “I’m tired of talking about a pending war. There isn’t going to be any war with Bella—pretty soon we’re all going to have to face the Lurkers, and that’s going to be a war.”

  “Why don’t you think there will be a war?” I asked, grabbing onto her words like they were a life preserver, and I was drowning in the middle of the Pacific.

  Trent rolled his
eyes, as if annoyed that I’d even broached the subject. Apparently, he thought there was going to be a war. Anne didn’t seem to notice.

  “Because when it comes down to it, we aren’t going to be foolish enough to fight each other when there is a bigger enemy out there.”

  I nodded, thinking she made a good point.

  “Anne, it has nothing to do with being foolish. If Bella attacks, what are we going to do? Welcome her in with tea and crumpets?” Jeffrey asked, his voice soft as though trying not to be harsh on his sister.

  I thought the tea and crumpets line was pretty funny and hid my smile in the sleeve of my shirt.

  “How do we even know she’s building an army?” Anne continued, apparently annoyed at being ganged up on. I didn’t know enough of the situation to take sides.

  “What else do you think she’s doing? She’s building an army—I’d bet my life on it,” Jeffrey finished and his lips were tight.

  “Enough talk about war,” Anne said. “Let’s go dancing. I haven’t been to a club in ages.”

  Trent faced me. “That could be fun. Are you up for it?” He gave me a little kiss on the tip of my nose.

  I didn’t want to be the party pooper although I was tired and hoped to have a nice evening with Trent…alone. “Sure,” I said, thinking I was quite the party martyr.

  Two hours later, I was drunker than I’d ever been. After my fourth amaretto sour, I’d lost count. There’s a point when you drink too much—past the point of the room spinning. That’s whe>Trewas and after dancing to what I could only class techno music, I slipped into a chair and watched as Trent, Anne and her brother danced together. Werewolves are physically stronger than humans are and can, therefore, dance longer than we can. And though I’m a witch, I still have that very human trait.

  My gaze steadied on Trent as I watched him move to the rhythm of the music. I couldn’t help the tingle that ran up my spine. I frowned as Anne interrupted my focus. She was dancing very close to Trent and didn’t have his gift in the moves department. She threw her hair behind her shoulder, trying to draw his attention to it.

  Give it up, Rapunzel, I thought.

  As I watched Anne attempt to flirt with Trent, my head started spinning and I caught my breath, hoping I wouldn’t pass out. I felt like I was on a techno merry-go-round, and it was all I could do not to fall off. The room stopped spinning, and I found my gaze resting on Anne and Trent again. I could see why she’d be attracted to him—he had a presence about him, a certain je ne sais quoi'.

  I wasn’t in love with him, I was sure about that, but I cared a great deal for him. I did find myself wondering what our future would hold for us, though, as I figured his pack wanted him to date a wolf. As pack leader, he’d be expected to marry among his own kind and reproduce and he’d only be able to do so with another wolf.

  This was one of the birds and bees conversations I’d had with Mathilda. She’d explained the natural order of things and while it’d been one of the oddest conversations we’d had, I’d learned a lot.

  Apparently, witches and warlocks could reproduce together, but it was difficult for a witch to conceive. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I certainly wanted a family someday, but because that day seemed as far off as possible, the thought that it might be tough for me to conceive wasn’t as earth shattering as it otherwise might have been. And, who knew, maybe it was just hard for me to conceive with another witch. I’d neglected to clarify that little point with Mathilda.

  Vampires were technically dead, so there was no bun in the ovens for them; fairies had an easier go of it and they could reproduce with anything—humans, witches, whatever. I guess they were like the rabbits of the Underworld. Demons could reproduce with witches or other demons; I’d yet to meet a demon, but somehow, the idea of reproducing with one left me cold.

  “How’s your night going?”

  I turned, feeling like I was underwater and faced a man smiling down at me. He was strange looking, and dopey—sort of like Gomer Pyle. I didn’t say anything and before I knew it, he was sitting next to me.

  “The name’s Bradley,” Gomer said. “You having yourself a good night?”

  “It’s going. How’s yours?” I asked even though I couldn’t care less about him or his night.

  “Better now.” His grin was toothy—it was like a donkey was sitting there and smiling at me.

  “Ha.” I managed as he scooted closer to me. I wasnht discreet when I moved farther away from him. He didn’t notice. He must’ve been one of those people who required a bomb dropped in his lap with a note attached to it reading: I’m not interested!

  “What are you drinking?” he asked as I took a ride on the merry-go-round again.

  I dropped my forehead into my palm and closed my eyes, praying the room would stop spinning. “Nothing more, thanks,” I said and pulled my head up. Nope, my prayers hadn’t been answered—the room still spun like a record player.

  “I saw you sittin’ here all on your lonesome.”

  I rubbed my index fingers on my temples and tried to make the room hold still. I was amazed I was even able to continue the conversation. “I needed to sit one out.”

  “I like blonds.”

  “What do you want, a medal?” I felt like adding I’d never liked the Andy Griffith Show, but held my tongue. The dumbass wouldn’t get it anyway.

  He laughed as if he also liked rude women. “What’s your name?”

  “Her name isn’t your concern,” Trent’s voice interrupted us and I turned to see him glaring at the drunk man.

  I smiled up at Trent. “Hi, Babe, this is Gomer.”

  The man gave me a quizzical look.

  “It’s Bradley, actually,” he said.

  “Great, Bradley, were you on your way somewhere?” Trent said, and his eyes issued a silent warning.

  Bradley dropped his donkey smile and stood up as if he’d been sitting on hot coals. Trent shook his head, laughing as the man figured out what was good for him and vacated his seat. Trent watched him walk away before he took the empty seat.

  “I can’t leave you alone for a second,” he said and nibbled on my ear.

  “Looked like you were enjoying yourself with your wolf friend.” I regretted sounding so concerned.

  Trent laughed. “Is my little witch jealous?”

  I shook my head and returned his kisses. “No, I’m not jealous.”

  “Looks like you’re drunk.”

  I nodded. “Yes I am.”

  Trent didn’t appear to be inebriated in the least, and I wondered if werewolves could handle their liquor better than humans could. It seemed Rand handled his liquor with aplomb. Maybe all creatures of the night did? If so, I had to catch up, as I was the epitome of a lightweight.

  Trent excused himself to answer a call of nature. As soon as he left, Anne took his place. I couldn’t say I was excited to see her, but I guess she beat another Gomer.

  “This is a geat club,” she said.

  The club was one I’d never been to before—called Interlude. It was overrun with people who were on the younger side of thirty. It seemed those frequenting it were of the drug persuasion—some seriously strange dancing giving me a clue. And the music was okay, I couldn’t get into techno much. I’m more an eighties fan. Give me some George Michael or Inxs and I’m good to go.

  “So, you and Jeffrey have known Trent for a long time?” I asked, attempting to make small talk and praying I wouldn’t lose my stomach.

  “A very long time. My brother and he were always good friends and now that they’ve joined packs, they’ll be even closer, I think.”

  I frowned—if her brother was going to be closer to Trent, then the same went for her. A sense of foreboding washed over me, and I wondered if Trent would eventually bend to the needs of his pack where I was concerned.

  “How long have you and Trent been dating?” Anne asked nonchalantly, but I knew enough to realize she was hanging on my response.

  “Maybe a month or so.”
>
  She nodded and dropped her gaze, tracing the mouth of her glass with her index finger. “He seems to really like you.

  I frowned. What did one say to that? Sorry, that I’m in a relationship with him when it’s obvious you wish you were? “I really like him—he’s a good guy.”

  She stopped tracing the mouth of the glass and downed the rest of her drink. “Yes, he is a good person. Thank you for what you did for him.”

  “What I did for him?” I asked, clearly not following her. I was too busy trying to defeat the threat of an upset stomach.

  “Bringing him back to life. You don’t know the service you did for us; we can never repay you for that.”

  I downplayed it with a wave of my hand; acting as though I’d lent him some sugar, not reanimated him. Hmm, I guess in a manner of speaking, I had lent him some sugar. With an inward smile, I reached for my drink and brushed against Anne’s hand and gasped.

  I was so drunk it took me a second to realize I was having a vision. Once it dawned on me, I closed my eyes and focused. It was Anne and she was in trouble—cornered by a werewolf and an adversarial one at that. I could see the fear in her eyes as she attempted to push the wolf away from her. I didn’t know why she didn’t just turn into a wolf, herself, but I didn’t get time to contemplate it as the vision disappeared just as quickly as it had come. What remained was the bitter aftertaste that the wolf had been sent by Bella.

  Anne could see the change in my demeanor and paled. “What did you see?” she whispered.

  I debated on telling her and decided not to. “It was a quick vision, Anne. Just be… sure you don’t go anywhere alone. Always have Jeffrey with you, okay?” I wondered if she noticed that I left Trent out of that sentence.

  Anne nodded. “Was it bad? Was it Jeff?”

  This is always the tough part when you know certain things that you shouldn’t know. When it’s good news, that’s easy. Everyone is happy and I’m always pleased to be the bearer of good news. Bad news is a different animal altogether.

  “It was you and another wolf.”