by Brenda Drake
The wolf turned, baring its teeth. Slimy yellow drool hung from its lips. Red eyes narrowed on Blake and the beast shifted, readying to pounce. The sight of the animal caused Blake to pause. It was just a pup, a rather large one, sort of the size of a bear. Could he bring himself to kill it?
Fenrir’s pup.
The pup lunged at him. Its teeth cut into his cheek as Blake fell back, the pup landing on top of him. His hesitation was a mistake. He’d been trained to never let his guard down. He grabbed the gray tuft of hair under its ears and yanked its head away from him. Sharp teeth bit at the air, and Blake practically tore the hair out of the animal as he kept its bite from finding him. The pup yelped and yanked away from Blake.
With agile and speed befitting a god, Blake was to his feet instantly, Jölnir in hand. The hammer was forged from a sliver of his father’s own Mjölnir. Blake gave his hammer one of his grandfather’s names, because few were as strong as Odin was.
Two more pups, one tan with gray markings and the size of the wolf attacking Blake, the other quite a bit smaller with silvery fur. The three creatures crept across the pavement, coming at him from different directions.
He hated the idea of hurting the pups, even if they looked like menacing creatures that could rip his head off in one bite. He’d played with them just after their birth while at Tyr’s ring fortress learning war strategies from the god. Their mother dead, Tyr had fed and raised them until the pups escaped to their father. Fenrir, unable to break free from the chains the gods forged to imprison him, the wolf used his pups to exact revenge on the gods. Only three of the pups remained. The others had been killed during attacks.
It both sickened and relieved Blake to see the silver pup with the others. She was his favorite. She may be trying to kill him, but at least she was still alive. He’d given her the name Saga. She was gentler than the others were, and had slept at his side several times when he had stayed with Tyr. They weren’t dangerous, not until Fenrir sent the evil for them, inflicting the pups with a thirst for flesh and destruction.
Back then, they were just puppies. Blake recalled running through the mountains with Saga, throwing Jölnir and watching her struggle to drag the heavy hammer back to him. He had a special whistle for her. Whenever he’d called her with it, she’d stop whatever she was doing and run to him. He missed her.
The pups’ red eyes on him meant they wouldn’t stop tracking him until he was dead. The hind legs of the tan and gray wolf twitched as it readied itself to pounce. Saga took a step forward.
“Easy, girl,” he said with a firm, calm voice. “You know me.” He whistled—her special one.
Saga’s ears pricked and she shook her head. The fiery color in her eyes faded to coal. She recognized him.
Blake stretched his arm up, pointing the hammer to the sky. Saga backed up as lightning shot down and struck his hammer. The tan and gray wolf lunged and Blake aimed Jölnir at it, striking the creature and sending him flying back into the darkness of the ally. Saga cut off the the other wolf as it made its move for Blake. She growled at her brother. He charged Saga, sinking his teeth into her neck and tossing her aside like the knotted rope Blake used to throw for her to fetch.
Saga slid across the pavement and collided into the Dumpsters, a whelp escaping her before she fell silent. The wolf turned on Blake, blood dripping from its mouth, steam punching from his nostrils.
He raised Jölnir above his head, again. Before he could capture a bolt, Kyle soared out of the shadows, a metal stave in his hand, energy snapping from its tip. His weapon connected to the wolf’s side, its fur catching fire, and it ran off, its nails scratching against cinder block as it clawed up the wall. The smell of burned hair filled the alley.
Blake lowered his hammer. “Where did you come from? Never mind that, how did you know I was here?”
Kyle held up his hand. A similar ring as Blake’s was on his left index finger. “Daddy Dearest isn’t the only one who knows how to make a honing device. If I weren’t tracking the horn, you’d be dead by now.” Kyle pushed a gem on the side of the stave causing it to collapse into the handle and he slipped it into his front pants pocket. “Did you steal Mjölnir or did Thor give it to you?” Blake sensed jealousy in his tone.
“This is mine. It was made from a piece of Mjölnir.” Blake didn’t need to push a gem or button to shrink the hammer. He could will it to recede from its normal size to the charm on his key chain.
“Impressive trick,” Kyle said.
A whimper came from the darkness of the alley reminding Blake of Saga. He rushed to her, dropping to his knees. She turned her head to look at him. The light coming from the moon behind him shone in her dark-coal eyes. Blood stained the silver fur on her neck.
Blake ran his hand over her head. “It will be all right, girl. Help me carry her,” he said over his shoulder, as he removed his sweat jacket and wrapped it around her neck.
“That’s insane. She’s as big as a lion,” Kyle said. “What do you plan on doing with her?”
“There’s a place for the care of animals by my home. A hospital. Opened twenty-four hours for emergencies.” Blake nodded to Saga’s hindquarters. “We’ll seek help for her there.”
“I’m not taking that end. I’ll take her head.”
“As you wish.” Blake eased her head down. “I’m certain she won’t bite, anyway.”
Kyle passed him. “You haven’t been binge-watching teen shows, have you?”
“There hasn’t been time. Lift.”
“Holy mother of the universe.” Kyle grunted. “It’s like picking up a Frost Giant. You can’t put her in your Prelude. She’d crush it.”
“We shall use your truck.” Every muscle in Blake’s body strained to hold his side up. Her tail whipped his face several times.
“Why are we even helping her?” Kyle asked as they lifted her into the bed of his truck. “She’s Fenrir’s pup. Her only desire is to destroy the gods…as in us.”
Blake pushed on her hindquarters to get her fully inside so Kyle could close the tailgate. “She’s different. Tonight she fought the evil inside and tried to protect me.”
“By all means, then. Let’s save the demon dog.” He opened the driver’s side door and slid in behind the wheel. Blake climbed into the back with Saga. Kyle opened the sliding rear window. “Where to?”
Blake sat at Saga’s head. “The building is a block down from where I live. And don’t act as if you haven’t been there. I know you’ve been tracking me.”
The truck bounced across the road, passing the warehouse where the pups attacked the girl in the costume. Her vehicle was gone, and the only evidence of the attack was glass covering the ground just under the window the pup had crashed through to get to the girl.
Who is she? He had to admit, whoever she was, he felt a pull between them. A sort of connection. There was something familiar and something entirely unfamiliar about her.
When Kyle pulled his truck up to the curb of the small building with white paint peeling from the siding, the lights were still on. The sign above the door read Veterinary and Rehabilitation Center. Kyle dropped the tailgate and helped Blake get Saga inside the hospital. A woman behind the reception desk glanced up from the book she was reading, surprised to have a patient.
Her eyes widened. “What is that? A bear?”
“No.” Blake huffed out. “A dog. One that is abnormally large. She was born that way.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Do you have to explain that now? We need to put her down.” He lowered his voice. “I know we’re gods and all, but she’s from our world so she’s one heavy puppy. They won’t be able to move her.”
“Oh, this way.” The woman popped up from her chair. She showed them to a back room and they placed Saga on a metal table. She was so large her head hung over the edge. Blake pulled a silver tray with wheels over and lifted her head onto to it. The woman tugged on a pair of rubber gloves. “What happen to her?”
“Another animal bit her neck,�
�� Blake said.
The woman’s brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, wisps of loose strands framing her face. That familiar feeling came over him again. He had never met the woman before, but it was as if he knew her.
“This is going to need stitches. She’s lost a lot of blood.” She looked up at them. “I have to check our supply. But she’ll need a blood transfusion. First, I’m going to clean this. It’ll need sewing up. I’ll call the doctor. She lives nearby. You can wait in the reception area.”
Blake followed Kyle to the reception area. “Well, have fun with the whole good Samaritan thing. I’d stick around to see their faces when they discover your puppy has especially unusual blood, but I have things to do. A hot little cheerleader to see.”
The door opened suddenly and Stevie walked in. “Oh. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“Um…” All thoughts, except for the one where he wondered why she was there, left him.
When he didn’t answer, Kyle said, “His dog got in a fight. A Chihuahua almost tore her throat out.” He patted Blake’s back before exiting through the door Stevie still held open. “You got this.”
She let the door close. “That’s horrible about your dog. I’m sorry about Double Dips. Something happened and we couldn’t make it. I would’ve texted, but you don’t have a phone.”
“That’s all right,” he said. She didn’t need to know he hadn’t shown up. “I hope that something wasn’t bad.”
“It’s fine now,” she said.
He was relived she hadn’t been waiting at the ice cream parlor for him.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated the question she had asked him.
“My mom works here. She’s the vet tech. Excuse me,” she said and hurried off to the back where he’d left Saga.
The door opened again, and a woman in her forties with dark hair and a severe ponytail came in. “Hello, you the parent?”
Blake glanced around the reception area. “Parent?”
“Is it your dog?” she clarified.
“Oh. Yes, she is.”
She buried her hands in the pockets of the thin, white coat she wore. “I’m Dr. Hompluem. You’re not to worry. I’ll take good care of her.” After giving him what looked to be a sincere smile, she rushed off in the direction Stevie had gone.
He sat on one of the vinyl chairs that looked like the glossy red nail polish his English teacher wore. Stacks of magazines covered the coffee table between him and a well-worn flower-patterned couch.
Stevie stormed out from the hallway that led to the back rooms. “There is no way a Chihuahua did that. It had to be some other big animal. And my mom has checked the—what’s her name?”
“Saga.” Blake adjusted nervously in his chair. “And Kyle was only fooling around. A huge beast attacked us. It was dark. I can’t be certain what the creature was.”
The anger on her face dropped away, replaced by fear or shock or both. “You didn’t see it? Where were you? Did you see where it went? Oh my gosh, it could hurt someone else. We have to warn…we must call the police.” She went around to the other side of the reception desk and picked up the phone.
“Hang up the phone, Stevie.” Dr. Hompluem said as she entered the reception area. “I’ve already warned the police. Your mother is finishing the cleanup. You look pale and she’s worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” Stevie said, hanging up the phone. For the first time, Blake noticed she wasn’t doing very well. Her face was a chalky color, and little beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
“No arguments,” the doctor said, continuously clicking the pen in her hand as she walked over to the receptionist desk. She flipped open a folder and wrote something on the pages inside.
Stevie went over to an upside-down jug and filled a paper cup with water. She took a sip, her eyes watching Blake. “What kind of dog is she? I’ve never seen one like her before. Kind of resembles a wolf.”
Blake adjusted on the chair, causing a noise that sounded suspiciously like flatulence. The smirk on Stevie’s face made him say, “It was the chair.”
“Obviously,” she said through a weak laugh. “You should have seen your face.”
Her eyes were droopy, and everything she did seemed like a struggle. She dropped her cup in the trash can at the same time her mother, the veterinarian technician, came out from the hall.
“Ready to go?” Her mother stopped. “Did you take your meds?”
“I took them a little late,” Stevie said. “And something happened…never mind. I’ll be fine. I need to get some rest, is all.”
“You must be careful.” Her mother picked up her coat and purse. “Call me if you need anything,” she said to the doctor and opened the door.
“See you at school,” Stevie said over her shoulder, following her mother.
When the door clicked shut, the doctor turned to him. “So, are you going to tell me where you got this dog?”
“It’s a mixed dog from Iceland.” That sounded good to Blake. He’d heard of Iceland in his geography class.
Dr. Hompluem’s stare felt like Odin’s one eye on him when Blake was caught in a lie. “There’s a reason I can’t find a blood match for this animal. And you know as well as I do, she’ll die if I don’t use your blood for the transfusion. Only a god can save the daughter of Fenrir.”
Blake stood, eyes narrowed. He knew not to trust those from his own world. “How do you know all these things?”
She put her hand in the pocket of her lab coat, again. “This can wait. We have a patient to save.” Blake would have protested, but he knew this woman was right—only his blood could save the pup. He followed her, keeping a firm grip on the hammer charm in his pocket.
She led him to the back and hooked a clear tube from his arm to Saga’s leg. The pup’s chest rose and fell, laboring to breathe.
“This will work?” Blake asked, watching the clear tube fill with his blood and quickly rush to Saga.
Dr. Hompluem checked the tube. “Yes. But do you know the results of giving your blood to her?”
“No.” Blake’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch. Right before dinner, the lightning bolt on his ring had gone off, the tracking device leading him to the warehouse and to the girl in the costume.
“You will always be connected to Saga. Her loyalty will not waver until death.” Dr. Hompluem removed a bottle of orange juice from a mini refrigerator and a package of something from the shelf above it and handed them both to him. “Go on. Eat. It’s shortbread cookies. The sugar should make you feel better.” She patted Saga’s head. “You’re her world now. It’s up to you to take care of that power. To keep Saga safe. Right, girl?”
Saga lifted her head. Her once red, then coal eyes were now the brightest blue Blake had ever seen. Even brighter than his own. “How do you know so much about my world?”
She massaged behind Saga’s ear. “Thor. He was here once. Twenty or so years ago. My dear friend knew him well. Her name was Jules. She’s Heather’s sister in-law.”
“Heather?”
“Stevie’s mother. My vet tech. She’s married to Jules’s brother.” She went over to the table and picked up an instrument resembling a metal wishbone with a rubber rope holding a silver disc at the end. She put the ends in her ears and the disc on Saga’s chest.
Stevie’s aunt knew my father? Could she have the horn?
“Where is Jules now?”
She removed the ear inserts and draped the gadget around her neck. “No longer with us, I’m afraid. She died in a boating accident.”
Dead? Then possibly, she’d hid it somewhere before she had died. Maybe this doctor knows where. He couldn’t ask her. His father had instructed him to keep his search quiet. Not to trust anyone.
“She’s recovering fast,” Dr. Hompluem said. “Where are you staying? Will she be able to be with you?”
“My father arranged for me to stay with a family here. As a foreign exchange student. The Perkins. Older couple
.” The bag crinkled as he pulled out the last cookie and popped it into his mouth.
“I know them,” she said. “They love animals. You’ll just have to shrink Saga.”
“Shrink? I’m not certain I understand.”
“Thor could will things to get smaller. Maybe you can do the same for Saga.” She picked up another instrument from a nearby metal table and put the gadget in Saga’s ear, only removing it after a few beeps. “Good. Her temperature looks normal. Of course, I can’t be a hundred percent certain what’s normal for a wolf born of gods.”
Blake finished off the bottle of juice, stood over Saga, and placed his hands on her side. “Hey, girl. Shall we try to shrink you?” He did as his father had taught him to make his hammer smaller. He closed his eyes and focused all his energy to his frontal lobe, the power heating his forehead. A warmth rushed down his chest and into his hands.
“That’s enough,” Dr. Hompluem said, touching his arm.
He removed his hands and opened his eyes. It had worked. Saga was a little larger than the husky owned by the Perkins’ neighbor. The wolf’s beautiful eyes looked up at Blake. There was something in them. Respect? No, it was love. He held his hand out, and she nudged it with her nose. He petted her fur. “That a girl, Saga.”
“On second thought, Blake, I think you and Saga should stay with me,” Dr. Hompluem said.
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “Stay with you?”
“Yes.” A smile pushed up her cheeks. “I make the best Thai food around. From recipes passed down to me by my mother and her mother before her. Straight from Thailand.”
Blake wasn’t certain what Thai food was, but the pride on her face made him want to sample it.
When he hadn’t answered, she added, “I don’t want to put the Perkins in harm’s way.”
Before Blake could ask how he could possibly leave the Perkins without giving the couple his father’s written permission, Dr. Hompluem gave him the answer. “I’ll make the arrangements. You just take care of our friend here. And you can call me May. Everyone else does.”
As May finished examining Saga, Blake couldn’t help worrying about Stevie. She was sick. Hearing about the attack had probably caused strain on her heart. He had an intense desire to see her. To ascertain she was well.