by Sonja Bair
A light clicked on in my head. “You guys are lone wolfing it, too, and it wasn’t working out for you.”
Pedro turned serious and leaned in toward me. “We answered all your questions. Now tell us: why are you in David’s house?”
“Because I said she could be, unlike you.” The back door must have been left open because I hadn’t heard anyone walk in. The door slammed shut behind us. I swiveled around to see David, but he looked different than I had ever seen before. His face was frozen into a fierce glare; his emerald-colored eyes had turned icy and were locked on Pedro. I didn’t even see it happen, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, and with one quick motion, I was swept behind David’s back. I was getting tired of being pulled around, but I didn’t fight it this time. The height difference between me and David prevented me from seeing what was happening, but I could tell from the heat rolling off his body that he was in fight mode. I had seen David trying to intimidate me and David angry, but I had never seen David ready for battle. His back and shoulder muscles were bunched and the material of the shirt was strained tight. His whole body leaned into the situation, his weight on the balls of his feet.
“Easy David,” I heard Philip say in a very calm and soothing voice. “We aren’t here to harm you or her.” There was more than a touch of concern in his voice; it sounded like he, too, was alarmed by the barely restrained violence hanging in the air. “We came on our own. We left Santa Fe behind in more ways than one. In fact, we would probably be dead if we had stayed.”
“Then explain why my kitchen looks like there was barroom brawl and Freya has bruises forming on her arms.”
I have bruises forming? I didn’t realize that I was grabbed that hard. That’s it. Tomorrow in class, I was going to announce to my students I was indeed an Ultimate Cage Fighter to cover my bases.
“We didn’t know what she was. Lately, we’ve had to assume that everything is out to kill us and react accordingly. That’s how bad it’s been in New Mexico,” Philip blurted out in an almost-plea.
I broke free from David’s grip, which itself might have given me a bruise, and stepped around. Pedro’s face was close to ghost white, which was pretty amazing, given his natural coloring. Philip had his arms cocked up in the universal I give up motion. I glanced back to David’s face. It was still frozen into a rage, his jaw was set, and his eyes were piercing. The look itself would be enough to stop any sort of scary supernatural in his or her path, and I had seen some scary supernaturals in the past. I was surprised that Robert and Maria were still alive if this is the David that they had to fight. The tension in the air notched down a few levels, but I felt like David could still spring into violence at one false move. Something needed to give or there would be casualties tonight. I could feel the assuredness of it down to my bones.
“I gave Pedro a bloody lip, if that makes you feel better,” I suggested to David in a light tone.
He let out a breath and a few cuss words on the side. His shoulders fell and his weight rocked back off the balls of his feet. He broke off his stare at the two werewolves and looked down at me. Again, he moved at a speed which shocked me, and I found myself crushed into a huge embrace.
I tried to say something, but there wasn’t enough air left in my lungs to manage anything but a squeak. David released me as quick as he had embraced me. The sudden loss of heat from his body left me strangely cold. I stepped aside to try to get my bearing again.
David looked down at me and replied, “Next time, you have my permission to give them both bloody lips and a couple of broken bones as well.” He turned to Pedro and continued, “Explain from the beginning.”
“And I guess I’m going to call for pizza.” The others may have forgotten that this encounter had started with a failed attempt to make dinner, but my stomach had not.
Chapter 12
The Santa Fe pack was in a bad spot. Robert and Maria were now controlling all aspects of the werewolves’ lives, literally holding the naturals of the pack hostage. All naturals—spouses, children, everyone—were made to report to pack headquarters once a day, where they would get work assignments and punishments for not complying with the Alphas’ draconian rules.
It sounded awful, but perhaps the most shocking discovery concerned David’s fight for dominance with the Alphas. Philip had found out that Robert had slipped a tranquilizer in David’s food the night of the fight. Robert and Maria had figured that he was at a breaking point and would challenge their leadership soon, so they had taken matters into their own hands. They invited him over to discuss something, drugged his food, and then pushed him into a fight. The tranquilizer slowed his reactions and allowed Robert and Maria to defeat him. Unbeknownst to the Alphas, however, was that the tranquilizer also slowed down all of his body systems. So when Philip pronounced David dead (Philip was a Nurse Practitioner. Odd career choice for a werewolf, but who am I to say) he was mistaken. David was only mostly dead.
“We were all surprised when Robert and Maria managed to best you in the fight. You had become so strong lately that we thought for sure you would win.” Pedro eyed the last piece of pizza. “So Philip and I have been away from the pack for a week now, and both of us have been struggling. It helps that we are together, so I can’t imagine what it’s like to be all on your own. But what I’m wondering now is how you managed to stay lone wolfing it this long.”
Pedro looked away from the pizza and raised an eyebrow at David. Philip turned to glare at Pedro. David merely raised an eyebrow back at Pedro and grabbed the last piece of pizza. The clock ticked in the background. What a strange triangle of loaded glares. David’s body language made it clear that he would not answer Pedro’s questions.
“So, do you think that Robert and Maria will attack here?” I asked, breaking the silence.
David turned to me and answered, “Yes, I do. Especially when I let them know that Pedro and Philip are here.” I was confused by David’s reply, but Pedro and Philip nodded as if they understood and had predicted David’s answer.
“Why? Why are you going to do that?” There was a whole bunch of werewolf undertones and subtleties going on right now that were flying right past me.
“I’ll explain later, Freya, I promise. Let it go right now.”
I tried to figure out if they were being condescending or if I was overreacting or if they had the right to keep some secrets to themselves. I gave up and decided to let them have their secrets. I was going to be the bigger person and let them in on my scenario. Plus, anytime I remembered the conversation I had with the police, my stomach dropped and I got an uneasy twitchy feeling between my shoulder blades. Something was going on, and it wasn’t done yet.
I started to fill in David on the happenings yesterday and today, but the other werewolves kept interrupting and asking questions. I backed up and started the story again from the beginning. David chimed in a couple of times, adding a few details. At the end of the story, I was still confused, but the twitchy feeling had multiplied tenfold. I needed to go the church myself to see if there were any supernatural clues that the police wouldn’t have picked up on, but David, Philip, and Pedro all refused to let me go alone. Fine, I said, but we were taking my car. When the new werewolves saw my Eagle, they let out a peal of laughter as if I had told some hilarious joke. I didn’t see what was so funny. Nonetheless, we all ended up in David’s boring SUV.
The church was fairly new construction, located in land previously used for grazing. The church had kept the grassland look, and the landscaping was subtle and natural. I remembered that in the sanctuary of the church, there was a huge window that looked through the grassland onto a local mountain. The location was gorgeous.
The Bible and note were gone, as I had expected. I moved along the stone wall, trying to see if there was anything that could tip me off to what was happening. Nothing. I bent down to see closer, and all of a sudden, there was a wet, cold, wolf-like nose in my ear.
“Blaaah!” I jumped up “That was gross, David!
Go do something useful.” He shook himself off with what seemed to be a pleased appearance and trotted off. After a few seconds, he stopped, smelled the ground intently, and then looked back at me. It was a follow me look.
We moved through the lawn and to a side door. I tried the latch and, oddly, it was open. I looked around. Philip and Pedro were on the other side of the yard, so David and I went in alone. The scent trail wound around some hallways and down a small set of stairs. At the top of the stairs, there was a wooden door. I opened it and walked through. On the other side was the sanctuary. The altar was a simple wood platform with a lectern and baptismal font. The rest of the sanctuary was populated with wooden benches with sage-colored cushions. The church had done a good job bringing the peaceful surrounding environment into the inside. The windows in the front and on the sides of the sanctuary were shuttered with wood panels, probably in an attempt to save on the air conditioning bills when the sanctuary wasn’t in use. I stepped onto the stage and noticed that lying on the lectern was a torn piece of fabric. It matched the banners hanging down the side of the sanctuary. And scrawled in black marker on the banner was my name followed by the phrase Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always. I froze in place. My head was reeling. Jia had tricked me into coming here, but why? And then the smell hit me. Smoke. I looked up. There was fire pouring in from the back doorway David and I had entered a few seconds ago. I whirled around and discovered there was smoke also coming in from the sanctuary’s front doors. And then there were flames and fire everywhere. The sage-colored cushions, the banners on the wall, and stack of hymnals in the corner. The science-obsessed part of my brain wondered how in the world so many things could catch on fire at once. The activation energy alone... The less geeky part of my brain didn’t care and was more focused on the idea of run.
“David!” He was already at my side, bumping me; we both looked back at the door we had used. It was a sheet of liquid fire. Intense scarlet waves, each only lasting a split second, lapped up the door, retreated, but then rolled even further the next second. Black smoke was pouring off the wood in sheets, as thick as if it was a solid form. We spun around again. We were surrounded. Vicious seas of flame jumped higher and higher up the walls, leapfrogging over each other in a manic game to reach the ceiling first.
David and I both saw the side door at the same time; unfortunately, the flames seemed to see it at that moment, as well. It was a race to the exit. I cleared the stage in no time and took a flying leap off the edge. My feet hit the ground, but my upper body was still in motion. I stumbled, but without a pause in motion, I used the momentum to push back into action, like a sprinter off the starting line. The flames were now reaching the doorframe, but the metal door was flame free. If I could make it through the curtain of fire, I could bust through the door to freedom. A few burns and singes were better than the coffin this sanctuary was turning into. The heat was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. All moisture was instantly sucked out of my body. My eyes felt like sandpaper every time I blinked. Breathing was excruciating, searing my lungs with each inhale. I pushed past the pain and hit the exit bar with all my weight. It didn’t move. Unbelievable. For a second, I stared at the bar in confusion. I pushed it again. Nothing. The door was locked. For a moment, a haze of panic clouded my vision and my muscles locked in place. My brain went blank except for a roil of overwhelming despair. I think it was the singeing of my arm hair that snapped me out of the panic attack. I refused to die like this. I looked around for the next escape route.
The panels covering the windows were crackling and sparking, and blazes tore across the wood. The carpet had caught fire and the smoke from the burning pew cushions poured out, coal black and impenetrable. The ceiling was tall, at least three stories tall, but was rapidly collecting all the smoke that the fire was throwing off. The heavy blanket of smoke swelled and rolled down toward me.
David, still in wolf form, grabbed my pant leg with a quick bite, but before I even looked down, he was racing back toward the stage at the front of the sanctuary. There was a small wooden door to the right of the stage that probably led to a storage room. Miraculously, the door was not on fire and maybe, if our luck was good enough, there would be a window we could escape through. David reached the door first and rose up on his two back legs, placing his front legs on the door and grabbing the handle in his mouth. Mysteriously, he yelped in pain and twisted midair. His leverage wasn’t right to flip around and land on his feet. His front legs landed about a body length from the door, with his hips twisted and his back legs still touching the door. He skittered on all fours, claws not finding enough traction fast enough to pull him away. I had no idea what his problem was, but I reached the door next, running so fast I couldn’t stop in time and slammed into it. Crap, it was hot. I reached for the handle. Somewhere in my brain, alarm bells started to ring, but the need to get out of the growing inferno was too great and I shoved the alarm aside. Brown smoke was puffing out around the door in small clouds, but the lack of flames was reassuring. As my hand started to push down and pull the door open, the warning bells finally pierced through the fog of panic. But it was too late.
Fire needs three things to survive: fuel, heat, and oxygen. The starting spark in the storage closet had provided the heat, the contents of the room had provided the fuel, but the oxygen in the room was limited. As the oxygen levels decreased, the fire turned from active flames to just smoldering, unable to sustain itself. But the temperature inside the closet was well above the point of combustion and there was still plenty of fuel left to burn, mostly in the form of explosive gases. Two of the three necessary items for an inferno were lying in wait for the third to appear again. So by opening the door, I had provided the fire the one thing it desperately needed to rev back into action: oxygen.
Even though the explosion was nearly instantaneous, time seemed to have gotten stuck in slow motion. First, there was a massive sucking of air into the closet, which caused my hair to blow into my face. Then there was an immense booming noise and an orange fireball came rushing at me, tripping over itself in an effort to get out of the room and accelerating at an unreal pace. But before the blaze hit me, I found myself airborne, being blown back by the explosion with as little effort as a leaf in a hurricane. Now it was a race between my backward trajectory and the flames rushing toward me. The explosion threw me halfway across the sanctuary before dumping me on my back, balanced on top of a pew. I toppled feet over head down the far side of the bench. The flash of fire roared over me in an angry sheet. Any hair left on my arms or eyebrows was instantly scorched away in a burst of heat. I lay on my back, breathless for a second, the wind knocked out of me.
The ceiling was buried now in a thick, black smoke. The part of my brain that warned me about the backdraft in the storage room now seemed to be knocking at my consciousness again. This time, I stopped and tried to pay attention to what it was saying. The way the smoke was moving around the ceiling meant something. The swirling blackness wasn’t merely creeping downward as the smoke built up; it was also swirling, whirlpool style, around a certain point in the slanted roof. Smoke was moving to this area, but not building up. After a moment, the little voice came up with a conclusion: there must have been a skylight in the ceiling that blew out during the explosion. There was now an escape to freedom. For most people on this earth, the window would be a taunting insult since it was more than thirty feet up with no way to reach it. Luckily, I was not most people. I stripped off my shirt and unsnapped my bra—I wasn’t wearing my special halter top today, but that was the least of my concerns. I stood up and ran into the aisle, calling David’s name. The pew I had landed in was starting to crackle with flame. I expanded my wings and stretched them out. They immediately sent screams of pain to my brain when the small whitish hair covering them started to instantly singe in the mindblowing heat. David bounded down the aisle, his fur patchy from the embers spitting down on him as well.
“Human! I need you to turn huma
n! Now!” I yelled at him.
In any other situation, I would have marveled at his ability to change from wolf to human from one step to another, but now was not that time. As he stumbled to change from four-footed running to two-foot running, I grabbed him around his chest and under his arms.
“Grab me and hold on tight!” I called and shifted to get the best position. He must have understood what was happening because he wrapped his arms around me tightly.
There must have been a huge weight difference between us, but adrenaline will do amazing things in times of crisis. I pulled down on my dorsal muscles, controlling the downward sweep of my wings. We lifted off the ground. I flexed them down again, and we started to gain elevation. A few more wing strokes and we were getting into the black, opaque smoke that was filling the church. I spotted the whirlpool of smoke and locked its position into my brain. I took a deep breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and put all my energy into powering us to that promise of escape.
Even though I wasn’t breathing at the moment, as soon as we entered the cloud of smoke, I immediately felt the desperate need to cough. The smoke was so thick, it felt like I was swimming. I bumped into the ceiling and froze. I had missed the skylight! Hoping David had a firm grip on me, I shifted the way I held him and freed one arm so I could skim my hand over the ceiling. After a few feet, my hand was sliced by broken glass. Bingo. I pushed sideways with my wings and felt for the diameter of the skylight. I sliced my hands a few more times, but got the dimensions. My lungs were burning, but I refused to take a breath, knowing that it would probably be catastrophic. I stopped moving my wings for a second, allowing us to fall a few feet, but then put all my remaining energy into a huge wing stroke, rocketing us up and through the hole. I had to pull in my wings as we went through the skylight, counting on our momentum to power us through.
As soon as we cleared the building, I gasped for air. The starbursts that were forming behind my eyelids from the lack of oxygen cleared and I opened my eyes. The edges of the roof were now on fire, creeping up to the skylight. Only a few seconds’ delay and we wouldn’t have been able to reach the skylight through the rolling fire. I looked away, sick to my stomach.