4.0 - Howl Of The Fettered Wolf

by Krista Walsh

  The warmth of tears drizzled over her chin as the droplets fell to the floor, and she grabbed hold of her mind, thrusting back the visions the ancients had placed there. She squeezed her free hand into a fist and dug her nails into her palm. At her side, Gabe tightened his grip on her, but she wasn’t sure whether it was to give her support or to hold her back from throwing a punch into Fendal’s throat.

  “I might stand alone,” she said, “but no matter what you say, I’m not walking away from this. I don’t believe for a minute that it will be easy, or that it will come without sacrifices. I accept that. I won’t watch the pyre be lit without taking action.”

  “The choice is no longer yours. Every decision has a consequence. Every feat its reward, and every crime its punishment.”

  Fendal’s voice had taken on an echo, rebounding off every bookshelf and doubling out of every corner. Gabe and Ara both tilted their heads to follow the sound. They shifted closer to Vera, and Gabe released her hand to circle his arm around her waist, squeezing tightly. Ara took a step forward and tucked herself between Vera and the ancient, but Fendal acted as though she hadn’t noticed her.

  “For your family’s service to the Book of Universes, I will spare your life, but the Collegiate stands for law and order, and there can be no exceptions. You have made a move against the balance of the otherworld, and such an act cannot be overlooked.”

  As one, the three women took five steps backward, their motions as smooth as the tide going out.

  Vera’s heart pounded and sweat stung the open wounds on her face. She braced her feet on the broken step beneath her, not sure what to expect.

  “You opted to protect what matters to you personally, a decision both selfish and reckless. You believed that because you sided with the enemy, you would be spared their wrath. Now you will learn that words are meaningless. Action is everything.”

  From her pocket, the ancient pulled out a small box. Vera stared at it as Fendal slid open the lid and removed a short, narrow object. A match. Her mouth flooded with the sourness of dread. She broke free of Gabe’s grip and pushed Ara aside, tearing toward the trio before Fendal had the time to play out her threat.

  But the ancient was too quick, or Vera’s injuries made her too slow. She skidded to a halt as the match flew past her, the spark of its flame a shining spot of horror in the dimmed lights of the shop. It landed in a heap of tattered paperbacks, and the fire caught as though the pages had been soaked with gasoline. Blue flames shot up and spread over the pile and across the floor, morphing into red and orange tongues that flickered and caressed the drywall and climbed over the toppled bookcases.

  Vera hurled herself toward the window at the front of the shop and yanked down the curtains to throw them over the flames. She hoped to quench the fire before it grew too hot, but the synthetic materials blazed at first touch.

  Impossible.

  The fire wasn’t natural. Somehow the ancients had enchanted the flames to grow without fuel. The heat licked over the floor and devoured each book. More flames reached the ceiling and jumped to the fan, spreading to each arm so that with every rotation, golden fingers leapt through the air to land on another spot, consuming it in seconds. The ceiling turned black and began to warp, and if Gabe hadn’t grabbed Vera’s arm and torn her away, she would have been crushed under the burning beams as her apartment collapsed into the shop.

  Vera screamed and her vision blurred with tears as her couch and the splintered remains of her rocking chair became engulfed in the wreck. She strained to free herself from Gabe’s grip, but he held her tightly, and when she whipped her head toward him to demand he release her, she saw that in his other hand, he’d grabbed the back of Ara’s shirt. The dryad had gone for the fire extinguisher behind the counter, but it hung useless at her side.

  Ara’s face was contorted with despair, and she struggled even harder than Vera to salvage what she could of their home.

  Their haven.

  The fire ate more of the back corner of the shop and swept up what remained of the stairs.

  The wilder the fire grew, the deeper Vera’s rage became, until it devoured all rational thought. She broke away from Gabe to turn and leap at the Collegiate, but they were already gone.

  From the core of her being came a cry of outrage. She sprinted to the front door, but they were nowhere to be seen on the street. The lights from the shop across the road had gone out, and only the emergency lights gave any sign of life in the shops around her.

  With a cry of frustration, Vera summoned all of her anger into a punch aimed at the lamppost beside her. The metal screamed as it contorted to the shape of her fist, and the top half toppled into the flames.

  As it collapsed, her anger washed out of her, and, feeling empty and lost, she turned back to the fire.

  Smoke-stained and covered in ash, Gabe heaved a struggling Ara onto the street beside her. Ara kicked the air and fought to escape his hold, but he refused to release her until they stood at the edge of the sidewalk.

  Vera was overwhelmed with the desire to run back inside, but she accepted that it was too late. All of her photos of her parents. Her books, her papers. Her mother’s wedding rings. Every possession that held any meaning for her was inside the building that was now falling down in front of her.

  Already sirens blared down the street to attack the flames, but what was the point? She had lost the Book of Universes, she had lost her reputation among one of the oldest protectors of the otherworld, and she had lost the one part of her life that had helped prevent her world from descending into chaos, leaving her with a gaping hole in her chest.

  She had been the one to cause this. She was to blame for Ara’s broken heart, as well as her own.

  She prayed it was worth it.

  The fight drained out of her, and she collapsed to the sidewalk to watch her bookshop burn.

  21

  Vera couldn’t guess how long they stood and watched her shop crumble, but eventually the fire subsided.

  The police had arrived shortly after the fire department, and she’d tried to pull herself together to answer their questions about what had happened. She didn’t know what to tell them.

  “We were upstairs when it started,” Ara finally said. “We smelled the smoke and came down to find the books were on fire. Maybe it was a wiring issue?”

  The officials seemed content to leave it at that for now, but Vera knew more questions would come. She prayed she would be back to her usual self by the time they did.

  She was vaguely aware that the street around Yggdrasil Books had been cordoned off. On either side of the shop, the walls of her neighbors were scorched and blackened with ash. No doubt the papers would call it miraculous that the other shops had gotten away with needing only a bit of cosmetic repair, but Vera knew better. Fendal’s words echoed in Vera’s mind, about how the guilty needed to be punished, and she guessed the same magic that had caused the fire to spread so quickly had prevented it from consuming anything other than its intended target.

  The fire had nearly burned itself out, the night seeming darker without the flickering light, by the time Gabe convinced Ara and Vera they should walk away and get some rest. Neither woman wanted to leave, but Vera was wobbling on her feet and Ara had sunk to the ground, her knees pulled up to her chest.

  “There’s nothing more we can do here,” he said. His sunglasses reflected the red embers glowing from beneath the charred beams, as though he were staring at Vera from under the fire.

  A chill ran through her, and Gabe pulled off his jacket to hug it tightly around her shoulders. “I’ll get some tea going as soon as we get home, and then you can get some rest.”

  A faint tingle ran through Vera’s blood at the thought of the quiet house in the middle of nowhere. Although her own home lay smoldering at her feet, a part of her did look forward to escaping to the silent coziness of the country. She couldn’t waste time by taking the break she desperately desired, but a solid night’s sleep would likely do
wonders to get her head on straight.

  “My farmhouse has room to spare,” Gabe offered to Ara, but the dryad shook her head.

  “I need to be alone for a while.”

  She looked to Vera and forced a smile, which Vera did her best to return. “I am grateful for what you did, and I understand why you did it,” Ara said. Her gaze returned to the fire. “Even if it did come at a cost.”

  She walked off down the street with her attention focused on the ground. Compared to the woman who had stood by Vera’s side for over twenty years, she looked broken.

  Vera wished she knew how to put her back together.

  Gabe slipped his arm around her shoulders and she sagged against him, unable to find the strength to keep her own weight.

  “She’s not upset with you,” he said. When Vera raised her gaze in surprise, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m sure you know that. I just wanted to make sure that you know it. You’re both going to be okay.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d harbored any doubts about that until he said the words, and she wavered on her feet.

  Gabe tightened his grip around her to keep her steady. “What about you? Do you have any objection to taking me up on my offer of a place to stay? If so, I can see about getting you a hotel room for the night.”

  Vera shook her head. She wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere she felt safe. She wanted to see her dogs.

  Gabe steered her down the street into the darkness of a side alley. The sky was dark, the stars and moon covered with thick clouds, and Vera had no idea what time it was. No lights shone from the shops or the offices above them, and in the shadows she felt as though she and Gabe might as well be the only people awake in the world.

  He drew his hand through the air, and Vera closed her eyes against the golden light that lined the rift. With her hand tucked into Gabe’s, she allowed him to lead her through the portal. The warmth of the Fae dimension brushed her skin, and she embraced the buzz that passed over her, kissing every bit of exposed flesh as though it were trying to make up for all the pain she had suffered. Pressure from Gabe’s fingers urged her forward, but she held back, wanting to stay wrapped in its embrace a while longer.

  “I don’t want to lose you in there,” he said gently, and tugged at her again.

  She released the warmth to pass through to the other side. The contrast in temperature created tremors that rattled throughout her body, but the comfortable silence of the farmhouse soaked into Vera’s pores, and gradually her muscles relaxed. Such was the magic of a home full of good memories. The hominess lingered even though no one had been here in hours.

  No, not no one. Vera opened her eyes and watched Gabe move toward the side door. During the few moments he was away from her, she took in the changes that had come over the house since she’d left. The mantel held pictures where before there had been none, and more furniture had been set up in front of a slightly newer television. The rest of the white sheets had been removed, and it looked as though the entire place had been dusted and polished. Even the cobwebs in the beams above her head had been swept away.

  Her appraisal of the house was cut short when Gabe opened the door and two brown shapes raced toward her, tongues lolling and hot breath panting. She crouched down and opened her arms to accept both Vidar and Baxter as they barreled into her. They licked her face and nudged each other out of the way to get more of her love and attention.

  Although it had only been a couple of days since she’d seen them, it might as well have been months. Years. She buried her face in the thick fur on the back of Vidar’s neck and stroked her fingers over Baxter’s silken ears.

  Her eyelids were weighed down with fatigue, and she wished she could curl up with her boys on the floor and sleep for an age. Gabe took the decision away from her by grabbing the dog treats from under the counter. Vidar and Baxter lost interest in Vera and bounded over to him, both sitting pretty while they waited for their early morning snack.

  Gabe tossed one in the air for each of them and used the moment of their distraction to help Vera to her feet.

  “They’ve been running around the backyard for hours and need some quiet time as much as you do. You can all get some sleep and enjoy your reunion later. Go upstairs and shower,” he said, with just enough command in his voice to deter her from arguing. “Then get into bed. I’ll make you that cup of tea and then we can talk about things if you want. Or not.”

  Vera wanted to assure him that she was fine and that they needed to discuss what they were going to do about Lozak and the book, but even as she opened her mouth to speak the words, her jaw cracked with a yawn, and she saw the wisdom of his advice.

  She couldn’t afford to waste time, but she also couldn’t afford to rush in her current state. Both in body and mind, she’d never felt more fragile, as though one wrong word or sharp step would shatter her.

  Moving slowly, she hung on to the railing as she climbed the stairs toward Gabe’s parents’ room. Her suitcase still sat on the end of the bed, the pajama pants and oversized T-shirt Gabe had lent her folded beside it, the woolen socks laid out on top of them.

  She grabbed the clothes in a bundle and went into the bathroom, avoiding looking into the mirror as she passed.

  The hot spray of the shower lashed her as it hit her skin. She slammed her hand against the wall to keep herself from crying out, cracking the corner of one of the tiles, but new tears pressed between her eyelids, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

  Soon enough, the steady beat of the water anesthetized the pain. She propped her shoulder against the wall, allowing the heat to loosen the tight muscles in her back and down her legs. Her stomach clenched and relaxed as stress fought her exhaustion, but for a few blissful minutes, she managed to forget the state she was in and her reason for being in it.

  When she got out of the shower, the cold draft of reality blew past her bare skin, bringing with it all the memories of everything she’d faced since Humphrey had walked into her life and turned all her priorities on their heads.

  For a moment, she remained frozen on the cold bathroom tiles, her calves cramping with tension. Finally, she tore her thoughts away and rushed to get dressed, then hurried into bed and pulled the comforter over her. She wrapped her arms around her knees to hold herself together. She hadn’t even bothered to move her suitcase to the floor.

  In her other life, she would have longed for a book to while away the time until sleep claimed her, but her head was too full of loud voices and flashing images to take in any other stimulation. All she wanted was a little time to gain control over herself.

  Gabe rapped on the door a few minutes too soon, but at the sight of the giant mug of tea, Vera forgave him the interruption. He handed it to her, then lifted her suitcase and rolled it under the bed. He was dressed in a T-shirt and pajama pants similar to the ones he’d lent her. The shirt stretched across his chest and dipped below his collar bone, revealing more bronze skin and a hint of dark hair. She longed to her run her fingers over it, absorbing his warmth, melding her body against his, but she pressed the impulse down.

  Everything was far too complicated, and the risk of making it worse was too easy.

  She scanned over his face, across his bruised lip and the gash on his forehead. She wanted to apologize for doubting him and believing — even for a moment — that he’d turned his back on her. She wanted him to know how much it meant to her that he had kept her secret. But even the thought of speaking the words closed her throat, so she drew in a breath and let it go unsaid. There would be more than enough time to talk about the past later.

  “You cleaned the place up since I left,” she said instead, and took a sip of the steaming tea. It was just shy of scalding, and it ran over her tongue and into her belly to thaw out the chills that had set in. It was the most wonderful feeling. “I didn’t even know you had a kettle.”

  “I bought it after I walked out on you,” he said, and stretched out on the bed beside her, staying above
the covers and keeping his hands in his lap. Gratitude and disappointment fought for precedence in her mind. “I’ve made a bunch of changes since then. As much as I was a jackass and regret saying the things I did, I don’t know that it was the worst thing that could have happened. It made me wake up to a few harsh truths about my life.”

  He kept his voice quiet, a low rumble that tickled Vera’s ears but didn’t assault her fragile hold on the pounding behind her left eye.

  “Like what?” she asked. While she would have preferred keeping any conversation until the following morning, she wasn’t ready to be left with her deluge of thoughts, and the last thing in the world she wanted to do was ask him to leave.

  “Like the fact that I was thirty-five years old and still living in a slummy bachelor apartment, drinking too much, eating too much pizza, and sleeping on a lumpy futon that didn’t pull out anymore and was still covered in blood smears from my last big case.”

  Vera felt the urge to laugh at his description, but she refrained, understanding that he was trying to make a point.

  “I realized that my only real friend lives hours away and refuses to leave his house, so I only ever see him through a screen. I realized that I’ve pushed away anyone else who’s ever tried to get close.” He rubbed his brow, winced as his fingers brushed against the healing welt, and sighed. “I’ve been living like a man with no real purpose for too long, and after I called you out on running away, I had to turn that argument on myself and accept that I was running just as fast. I’m ready to stop. The moment I got home, I gave my notice to the landlord and moved all my furniture here. I finally tossed that awful futon. I’m ready to plant some roots and build a life for myself. Something I can be proud of. I have the business, which is a great start, but there’s so much more I could be working for. Like becoming the kind of man who strives to make you happy. I want to be someone who can do what it takes to give us a chance to get to know each other and see if any of the goals you’ve set for yourself match the ones I want for me.”