Born of Fire

Sarah craned her neck toward the rumbling of the old pickup and ducked out of sight behind the willow tree when it lumbered past, careful to avoid the headlights that invaded the darkening landscape. She caught sight of the handsome face through the windshield and sneered, memories of his teeth tearing her flesh brought a shudder to her gut. She dug her fingernails into the bark of the tree and winced, hoping his sensitive werewolf eyes hadn’t noticed her. She hadn’t fed enough recently and didn’t have the energy to regenerate if she were killed again. The truck was parked in front of an old farmhouse and the engine stilled. The front porch light flickered to life and bugs swarmed it almost immediately, zapping them. Their bodies spiraled to the deck like burning cinders. The blonde-haired werewolf exited the truck and slid to the ground. She imagined wrapping him in her flaming wings and carrying him into the sky, his body burning like an insect as he fell to the earth. If he hadn’t ripped the power away from her when he tore her throat out, she would have been able to. One doesn’t stray too close to a Sun Spirit at full strength without getting burned. Dying cost her energy, energy that was necessary for her to remain on Earth and avoid death at her father’s hands in the Crystal gardens of the Sun. Lucky she knew where to find it. He smiled and slammed the truck door, the sound echoed over the expansive Nebraskan cornfields surrounding the home and the screen door burst open. A toddler ran from the house and bounded off the porch to fling himself into the man’s outstretched arms. The boy’s wide open smile mirrored that of his father. He tossed him in the air, caught him and planted a big kiss on the mud-encrusted forehead in one swift movement. Sarah bared her teeth in disgust. Emotion was a weakness her own people would never flaunt. One never knew when enemies were watching. A woman waddled from the house, her burgeoning belly swayed with her steps as if ready to drop her spawn at any moment. She lifted the hem of the dress that strained itself around her middle as she descended the stairs and welcomed the man with a tender kiss. She took the child into her arms and the werewolf patted her playfully on the behind. Sarah nearly jumped at the ear-splitting squawk the woman made. He laughed at the teasing punch his wife delivered on his arm with her free hand and followed his happy little family into the house, oblivious to the danger. Sarah let out a breath and fought to bring her heartbeat under control to calm her nerves. She crept from her hiding spot in the tiny grove of trees and tip-toed quietly toward the old farmhouse. She heard the screen door creak open and dodged behind the side of the house. Her prey loped down the gravel drive to his vehicle where he retrieved a bulky brown briefcase with the silver caduceus embroidered on it from the front seat. He closed the door and jogged back to the wooden porch. He paused, set his bag down and turned warily to sniff the air like a flea bitten mongrel. Sarah smiled in anticipation. The werewolf had scented her. It was finally time to act. She began to chant, her heart pounded in rhythm to her spell. Her words rose in strength and power as she stepped triumphantly from behind the house and walked purposefully to her victim. Her power-filled words stilled her target and his blue eyes glazed over. A sour energy tingled over her taste buds, the only betrayal of the alarm that didn’t meet his immobile face. She laughed triumphantly to herself and took him by the hand. She reached up with her free hand to tease one of his blonde curls. This was no longer the man who tore open her throat the night before while she devoured her prey, but a man who would obey her every whim. She dragged her nails viciously across the skin of his neck where he had tried to kill her, leaving trails of blood. She tugged him forcefully behind her into the house. They walked through to the clean but outdated kitchen where his wife worked at the stove. The scent of beef and onions assaulted her nose and she nearly gagged out loud. Almost a thousand years on Earth and she still hadn’t acquired a taste for human food. She had other sources of nourishment. The little boy colored at the table and caught sight of her. He looked up at his mother in confusion, who turned and narrowed her eyes angrily at the strange woman holding her husband’s hand. “Who the hell are you?” the wife snarled when she saw their enjoined hands. Her enraged look turned to one of worry when she saw his vacant expression and she growled, the sound vibrated from her body into the floor. She dropped the spoon to the floor, splattering brown stew over her legs, and her skin began to ripple. The witch smiled in amusement. The thrill of her conquest rose within her as she pushed her power out to immobilize the woman’s body, effectively ending her ability to shift. Another burst of power and the woman’s eyes widened in terror. She choked out a sob as the boy burst into flames and incinerated before their eyes. Ashes showered upon the chair and table where he had sat. He hadn’t even had time to scream. Sarah left the man where he stood and trailed her fingers through the dust, sucking her fingers clean and running them over the mess again. Her lips lifted at the corners as her body absorbed the life force the boy’s untimely end had left behind. Children have so much life in them. There was a certain satisfaction in claiming it for herself. Sarah’s skin tingled under the woman’s gaze and she turned to approach her. “Are we having fun, my pet?” She stopped only when she bumped into the enlarged belly and painted the soot over the pitiful creature’s wet cheeks. Tears still fell from the poor thing’s eyes, but the only emotion Sarah could detect in the blue depths was pure hatred. Still holding on to the werewolf’s hand, Sarah pulled the woman behind her with the spell. She led them quickly upstairs to the larger of the two bedrooms and left the woman in the corner to watch. Tears streamed down his wife’s cheeks while gut-wrenching sobs shook her body. The witch kept her eyes on the woman as she pushed the wolf to the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. *** Hours later, Darren wept over the body of his wife. He stroked a stray wisp of hair, leaving trails of blood on her lifeless face like war paint. The blood had stopped dripping a while ago from the gaping hole where her throat had been. Much of it still clung to his mouth and chin, remnants of the cruelty he was forced to commit at the demon’s commands. He reached up for the pitcher of water on the dresser and dipped the small hand towel into the water. Gut-wrenching sobs broke free of his throat and he wondered if his own body would finish breaking him before the cloth touched her skin. The crusted blood on her eyelids where he had eased them closed cleaned up easily enough. He bent down and kissed them, lingering before reaching for her bloodied lips with his. Each kiss weighed on his soul, crushing him out of existence. The feel of her lips against his filled the hole in his heart with a blessed numbness. She was gone. The part of his wife that had laughed, teased him, made love to him, that he had worshipped with every fragment of his being was lost from this world. The tin box in the armoire caught his eye and he pictured the gun sitting there, enticing him with promises of joining his dear Sophia in the place of rest. He shifted to lay her down when a breeze streamed through the open window, fanning the curtains about wildly. Darren’s breath caught in his throat and he clutched the body protectively. His eyes darted about and his throat tensed so hard he couldn’t release the growl suppressed in his chest. He waited, sniffing the air and listening for signs of the monster’s return. Hearing nothing but keeping an eye on the window nonetheless, he turned for one last look at his mate. He rested a shaky hand on her swollen belly as he fought for breath. He bent to kiss it when he felt a light movement from within her womb. A burst of hope startled him from his despair and his heart jumped. He sat there stunned until his many years of medical experience took over. He laid the body of his wife down quickly but gently and raced down the stairs and grabbed his physician’s bag, but threw it down when he realized he left the tools he needed at work. He rushed to the coat closet and reached inside. He pushed aside bits of clutter to retrieve a small medical kit. His hand brushed against the plastic box and released the breath caught in his lungs. He rushed up the flight of stairs and fell to his knees beside Sophia. His hands shook and he worried he wouldn’t be able to steady them for the procedure. He prayed fervently for a miracle as he rested the steel blade just below her abdomen and cut. Amniotic fluid spilled from the incision. Reaching through a thin layer of skin, he determined the position of the baby. He pulled his daughter through the opening and then held his little girl to his chest, searching for signs of life. Her skin was purple and her lips an alarming blue, but his broken heart leapt when he heard her faint heartbeat. Werewolves heal quickly and he knew she would live. He wept and kissed her as he held her close. He patted her little bottom until her cries finally rent the air. 8 months later Corvin Smith was the best Healer in the Midwest. He was born with the unique ability to see the entire anatomical workings of any living creature, and his brethren utilized this often. He was a full Guard in the Brethren of the Blood, a law enforcement agency created by the Council that ruled over all supernatural beings. He and his brethren were charged with protecting the world from the demons that hell spewed forth when monsters last ran free through the world. There were species of the supernatural set that walked the earth unbeknownst to humans. The Brethren policed the supernatural community, protecting humanity from those who could not defend themselves. Most supernatural species aren’t inherently evil. There were many Witches, weres, the seelie folk, and other creatures who were very good people, or at the very least law-abiding citizens. Then there was the unseelie court, demons, and succubae—the vampires who had been eradicated decades ago—whose very existence is to prey upon humans and anything else that might be weaker than them. Corvin and his young protégé, Jacob, had been tracking a dark elf all the way from Chicago to Omaha, Nebraska. The light elves were tall, lithe, and of fair countenance, whereas dark elves were unkempt, skulking, and adverse to hygiene. Both had a thing for beautiful trinkets. Most light elves seemed like normal people, with the exception of their great beauty. He’d met a few that he would trust less than a drunken skunk, but in general, they were just like anyone else. He had yet to meet a dark elf that didn’t need to be put down. This one was no exception. It definitely had a thing for trinkets, and these thefts involved the death of an innocent. Just this morning, they found the body of an old woman whose face had been torn apart for her gold fillings in her trailer across the river in downtown Council Bluffs-- If Council Bluffs could be considered to have a downtown. They traced the creature to an old apartment complex and cornered it in an alley. It hunched naked over a dirty pillow case filled with broken jewelry and other bits of precious metals. It didn’t seem to notice the icy pavement beneath its bare shins or the steady drip on its back from the icicles that clung to the brick windowsills. It was completely enthralled by the sparkling jewels and treasures it had accumulated. Corvin suppressed a disgusted gag and crouched low in the shadows around the wall of the building. He motioned for Jacob to circle around the block to provide a distraction so he could effectively dispose of the creature. The young man nodded eagerly and dashed off soundlessly on the icy pavement, keeping in the shadows to avoid being seen. He was proving to be a skilled hunter and Corvin hoped his years of training at the Compound did some good. This was his first battle outside of training and would determine if he was ready to become one of the Brethren. Corvin kept his eye on the elf while he waited for Jacob to get the beast’s attention. The years of battle wounds and scars were catching up to him, though he wasn’t even forty. His hip ached from maintaining the crouch and started to throb. There were some old wounds even Healers like himself couldn’t fix. Hopefully the exercise today will loosen him up. He reached down and rested his hand on his sword, peering at the thing in the dark alley. The city lights glittered off the trinkets and jewels as the filthy elf fingered and tasted them, the stench of his breath assaulted his senses from a dozen yards away. Jacob should be there any moment now. Corvin cursed when instead of distracting the thing, the boy jumped from the corner of the building and charged the creature with sword drawn and eyes blackened with uncontrolled rage. Corvin muttered under his breath when the creature dodged the sword and raked his claws over the young man’s torso. Jacob had left himself wide open, earning himself four long gashes through his ribs and torso from the creature’s claws. He fell to the icy pavement with a hard thud, bouncing his head twice. Heedless of his wounds, he shifted to his feet and swung his sword too fast for Corvin to follow. Corvin shook his head and leaned against the wall of the building to watch the battle. It was never a good idea to get in the way of a berserker in the midst of their rage. Berserkers didn’t know friend from foe until they came down from the high of battle. Finally, the creature fell dead at the trainee’s feet. Jacob breathed heavily and swayed, though he managed to maintain his battle stance. His eyes darted about for signs of an incoming attack. Corvin counted down the seconds patiently while he waited for the boy to faint. Jacob’s legs began to tremble like a newborn calf’s and he dropped to the ground, pale from blood loss. If Corvin hadn’t been there to help the foolish young man, he would surely have bled to death. He had only just left his training at their compound in Norway and had many teachers instructing him to control the rage within. He apparently hadn’t quite learned his lesson. Better that it be while accompanied with a Healer than any of the other full Guard in the region. He knelt over the young Guard lying before him. The boy gazed at the wall in embarrassment, not meeting his eyes. His eyes were back to his normal deep dark brown, meaning the berserker rage was over. He grimaced in pain when Corvin peeled his shirt back from the wound. Four long gashes ran over his muscular frame. Corvin traced his fingers gently around the wounds as he examined him. The boy shuddered and turned to look at him expectantly. His eyes were clear and unafraid. He couldn’t tell if the lack of fear was due to faith in the Healer or a false sense of invincibility that all young people seemed to possess. His breathing was labored and shallow, but Corvin barely had to concentrate as he bound the torn flesh, muscle, and bone. He helped the boy --after that stunt, it’s difficult to think of him as anything but a boy—into the vehicle where he gently settled him into the front seat and went back for the elf. He had just finished loading the body into the trunk when he heard a baby cry from down the street. He stilled and his face deepened into a frown. Something felt wrong. It was 2:30 am Christmas morning, ice and snow coated the ground. He could think of no reason for someone to take a baby out at this hour. He followed the sound to the corner of an old warehouse. It was coming from the other side of a grime-covered dumpster. He drew his sword for fear his gun would alert any humans that might be around and stepped around the dumpster. There was a woman crouching over a wet bloody baby girl blessed with a healthy set of lungs. The woman was pale and sweat covered her brow though the temperature was below freezing. Both her and the child were shaking and in obvious distress. He moved to offer help but his mouth opened in surprised horror as the woman drew a knife from the folds of her jacket and held it over the newborns chest. “Hey!” he shouted. He started toward the pair and lifted his sword in warning as Jacob came hobbling over to see what was taking him so long. The woman jumped in surprise at his intrusion. She turned to him, her eyes widened and slightly dazed, and lunged at him with her knife, snarling in a strange language. He snatched it away easily and grabbed her wrist. “What’s going on here?” he demanded forcefully. She opened her mouth in what he thought would be an answer to his question, but was rewarded with a bite to his hand. “Damn it!” he shouted and the woman yanked herself from his grasp and ran down the alley. He wrapped his wound in a handkerchief and thought about running after her since she wasn’t moving very fast, but shook off the idea at the sight of the naked freezing newborn. The child’s wail raised an octave though she was blue and visibly shivering from cold. He walked over and removed his jacket, wrapping the baby as he lifted her gently into his arms and held her against him for warmth. He made shushing sounds and tried the rocking-bouncing thing he had used on his nieces before entering training so many years ago. It didn’t seem to be helping, but he continued making the sounds and motions because it made him feel useful. He picked up the dagger and he walked with the hobbling Brother Jacob to the car. “What is that?” Jacob asked at the sight of his companion holding a baby. He leaned over and stared at her, his head tilted like a puppy’s and face pulled into a grimace. “This, Brother Jacob, is called a baby.” His lips raised up at the corners in spite of the situation at the chance to tease the young man. ”See, when a daddy and mommy fall in love...” “I know what a baby is and how one is made, Brother Corvin.” He glared in response to the older man’s humor at the situation.” What I want to know is where it came from and what are you going to do with it?” Corvin handed the bundle to the exasperated boy, who reluctantly took the child and scrunched his eyebrows together. It had been a stressful day and they needed some humor to make sense of this new development. He told the boy of the way the mother acted, and turned on the car light to show him the knife. Jacob examined the dagger with one hand, the other occupied by a screaming infant. Etched into the silver handle was a flaming sword and a bird with an emerald set into the eye. Corvin studied the emblem shaped into the dagger. “The Guldbrandsen crest,” he said for the third time in between the child’s wails. “Didn’t the last of their Slekt die out ages ago?” The child had finally quieted down as it suckled enthusiastically on Jacob’s finger. He closed his eyes in relief at the temporary reprieve. “Perhaps the woman stole the dagger?” “Did you pay any attention at all in your studies?” he frowned at the boy. “You know very well a human not of the Slekt wouldn’t be able to wield the dagger.” “Is the baby one of the Slekt too?” Jacob asked. “I’m not sure.” He leaned closer to get a better look. He studied the child with his magic until she began to grow frustrated when her efforts of sucking on Jacob’s finger produced no milk. He gave up, he could work his magic in the heat of a bloody battle, but this racket was making him twitch. “Wait here with the child; I’ll be back with supplies.” He left the car and headed down the street toward the twenty-four-hour pharmacy he had seen on the drive there. The child was still wailing like a banshee when Corvin returned to the car with his purchases, but this cry sounded different. “Uh, Brother Corvin...” Jacob looked a little panicked as he set the child on the floor of the car and moved the seat back to give her more room. The infant’s skin had started rippling like a flag in the wind. She began to tremble and wail in earnest as fur sprang forth rapidly from her skin. A short while later, the two men gazed down at a little white wolf pup with the brightest blue eyes they’d ever seen.. “Well, now we know she’s a werewolf.” The young man said as he hesitantly lifted and smiled at the blue-eyed wolf pup. “She’s kinda cute... Uh, sir, she just peed on me.” He held her out in front of him, his eyes wide in horror. “Here’s a bottle, your pants will dry.” Corvin said with a smile as he started the car and drove to the hotel.