Born of Fire

The Healer

They pulled in front of the doors to a massive southwestern-style mansion. Ben had called the Pack doctor before they left the hotel, and he was supposed to meet them here at his house. They were thirty minutes south of the hotel, outside a town called Mescal. Her bottom bounced against the leather seats as the car rambled along the dirt driveway. She turned her face to peer out the window when they turned left, causing her to smack her nose against the window. How often did he replace his shocks?

The structure was designed much like the hotel, the one difference being this house was painted the same color as the sand and dirt that covered most of southern Arizona. Calling it a “house” would be an understatement. You could fit two guard barracks in the thing. Maybe he kept a football field in his basement.

“Your house is enormous,” She murmured.

“I need to be able to house the entire pack and their families in case of an emergency.” He got out of the car and started to walk around to open her door, but she had already opened it herself. He didn’t seem irritated this time, she was impressed.

“What kind of emergency?”

“Usually, during wars, human or otherwise, homes can be destroyed. Sometimes we’re hunted or there’s a natural disaster. Gathering in one place can make everyone safer, and it’s easier to use magic in one large area than many small ones.”

She should know this. Everyone of the Slekt learns the basics of how magic works; it is usually up to the parents to provide that education. Unfortunately, she had a knack for throwing her father off topic. It’s a wonder she learned anything at all.

She followed him through the grand double doors into the spacious foyer that looked like something she’d seen in a magazine. He led her through the comfortable, traditionally-styled living room to the kitchen without offering to show her around and she pouted. It would have taken too long in a house this size anyway.

The kitchen was massive, with two eight-burner stoves and plenty of room for several people to work at once without bumping into each other. The counters weren’t shiny enough to be granite, but they looked expensive, and they stretched the length of the room. The same stone that made the countertops rested upon the island where six industrial bar stools gathered around it.

There sat a werewolf who appeared to be in his early thirties, though he could potentially be much older. Their kind aged slowly, so there was no telling his true age. He was blonde and blue-eyed like her, with broad cheekbones, but he stood a few inches shorter. He looked up from his newspaper and smiled in greeting as he stood.

“This is the pack Healer, Dr. Darren McGregor.”

She took the doctor’s outstretched hand. Though his eyes were only slightly downcast, he was far more submissive than her, but he didn’t shy away from her, and she wondered if he had always been so submissive.

“Ben tells me you’ve been having fevers and they might be connected to the magic involved in the local attacks,” he said. He folded his arms and leaned against the table. “Would you fill me in, please?”

He looked at his feet and nodded intermittently as she described the fevers. She pulled out the notebook she kept to record the temperature and duration of her episodes. Ben told the doctor that the one she had at the hotel was one-o-eight, temps that would kill normal werewolves, and that she kept muttering something about pink squirrel ninjas and reciting the Lord’s Prayer.

“Are delusions common during your fevers?” Ben asked. “You haven’t seen images of death and blood?”

“No, I’ve only been hallucinating recently, as the fevers get more intense,” she replied. “And the squirrels are the most disturbing thing I’ve seen yet.” Kudos to Darren for not laughing, but Ben chuckled openly.

“Hallucinations are common among humans during a high fever. I haven’t seen enough illness among the shapeshifter population, but I imagine it would cause similar reactions.”

Darren pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned.

“We have higher thresholds for physical stress, but I imagine if your temperature continues to rise much more that you’ll suffer the same effects a human would. I don’t want to alarm you, but it could prove fatal if we don’t find a way to stop it.”

Her heart fell to her stomach, though this wasn’t exactly news. She took a meditative breath and released her fear. She was already vulnerable due to the illness; fear only made it that much worse.

“I figured as much, already. How do we find out what’s causing it?”

“We can start by taking a blood sample. I’ll have it analyzed both magically and in a lab, and possibly have you examined by a witch for enchantment.”

“I’ve had half a dozen Healers do the same thing with no results. You’re not going to find anything.” She ran her hands through her hair and groaned. She hated needles.

“Humor me, please?” He gave her a boyish grin as he rummaged through a bag on the table and motioned for her to sit in a chair. She rolled her eyes at Ben’s amused expression; plopping dramatically on the chair, she flopped her arm onto the table beside her. The thud echoed through the room. It was bad juju to disobey a Healer, even Ben would have obeyed the submissive wolf if he was working as a Healer. She almost wanted to see that. Especially if she were the reason he needed one.

Darren sat in a chair in front of her and pulled her arm straight. He felt around with his fingers for the right vein. Corvin had always been particular about which veins he abused too. When he found what he was looking for, he plunged the silver needle into her vein with surprisingly less prodding than usual.

She hissed at the sting.

“Sorry,” he said with a sympathetic wince. It wasn’t the needle that hurt, but the silver. She was going to have a burning rash on that part of her arm for a day or two. He grabbed one of the glass vials he had laid out on the table and attached it to the tube. She watched the blood pull rapidly from her vein as it filled the first of the vials and grabbed the second. (transition here, describe, in just a few words, that he is taking a few vials.)

After filling all six vials, he placed the collected blood in a small foam cooler and added an ice pack from the fridge. He slapped her hand down when he caught her scratching at the injection site. He growled low as he cleaned up the blood she had smeared and added gauze and a bandage.

“Could you stay with her? I don’t want her left alone tonight.” Ben told Darren. “I have already made a date with Rochelle and still have to talk to Frank’s family; otherwise I would find a way to occupy her myself.”

She glared in response to his leer as he looked her up and down. She had already decided she wanted to sleep with the man, but it would be on her terms. She wasn’t about to fall for his little tricks.

“I would take it as a personal favor if you didn’t flirt with someone else in front of Rochelle when she gets here.” Darren said as he put away the medical supplies. “My daughter is a skilled fighter, but Kenna is a born Alpha and warrior.”

“I’m picking her up after I talk to Frank’s family,” Ben said. His flirtatious smile fled at the mention of Frank, replaced with one of sadness.

“You would let someone like Ben date your daughter?” she asked incredulously.

Ben arched an eyebrow and his mouth pulled up at the corner.

“Someone like me?”

“A womanizer, man w***e, philanderer, take your pick.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem flirting with me earlier, as I recall. Besides, Rochelle is an adult. She can make her own decisions.”

“She’s young and entitled to a few bad choices in her life.” Darren grinned, then looked away from his Alpha’s bemused expression.

She smiled; Darren knew how to deliver a blow without actually challenging anyone. Kudos to him.

“On that note, I’m out,” Ben said. “Don’t want to be late. I’ll send someone to relieve you in the morning.”

Ben shut the door behind him and Darren shook his head ruefully and zoned out while staring at his shoes. She admired the cabinetry and countertops for a while, not wanting to disturb Darren from his thoughts. Darren blinked from his reverie and turned toward her. “Sorry about that. Are you hungry? We could grab pizza after I deliver the vials to my lab.”

“Pizza sounds amazing. I haven’t eaten nearly enough today and my fevers wear me out.” She followed him around back and laughed when he opened the passenger door of his car for her.

Darren drove a tan Buick LeSabre, or what they used to call grandma-mobiles back in Training.

“Did you borrow this from your grandmother?” she asked as she slid in.

“Don’t you listen to her, Mabel.” He reached up and patted the dash affectionately as he climbed in behind the wheel.

“It even has a grandma’s name!” She snorted and laughed until he turned the stereo up.

They dropped the vials at his office—one of his office assistants was a witch—and stopped at a pizza place. It was a half hour in the opposite direction from the hotel, but Darren assured her it was worth the drive.

“You can choose any flavor of crust,” he said with a dreamy look in his eye. “Rochelle and I usually stop here on Saturday nights.”

“Aren’t you worried about her dating Ben? I know it isn’t my place to judge, but I wouldn’t want my daughter to get hurt,” she told him frankly.

He paused with his hand on the door handle. “I was worried at first, and expressed my concerns to her. Another wolf broke her heart not too long ago, and she told me she’s not ready for anything more than a little action.”

She laughed at his wince.

“What every father wants to hear from his daughter,” she said.

“She also told me she’s too smart to fall for someone like him.” He grinned.

“I like her already.” Kenna shook her head and laughed. She was in the same boat. She had to admit to herself that lack of commitment was one of the main draws she had towards him. She thought about him at the gala with the children, and was reminded that he was a good man, too. It was good to look beneath his philandering ways. If she wasn’t as Alpha as he was, she might consider joining his pack.

They ordered their pizza and she convinced him to go to Cosmic Comics across the street.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a comic book fan.” Darren told her as he held her door open, and she tried not to roll her eyes. Even the thirteen-year-old werewolves at the Training Center were constantly holding doors open for females, even after she spent an hour or two kicking their butts.

“There’s not a lot to do in the middle of nowhere, Norway, so I don’t have much of a social life outside of the trainees and other faculty. I like steampunk, Superman, anything by Marvel, really.” They wound their way past the action figures and around the shelves until she picked up the comic she was looking for.

“Don’t tell me you never read comics as a boy.”

“I have every Superman comic since its debut in 1938. I used to read some of the Marvel ones to Rochelle when she was little.” She could imagine the werewolf reading Thor and X-Men to a little child. She tried not to “aww” out loud.

“Do you happen to have volume two of Supergirl?” Hope filled her voice.

“I think so. My brother will if I don’t. He lives in California, but he would probably be willing to lend it out if I asked him.

“That would be great… oh!” Her attention was caught by the wargaming miniatures on the shelves as she walked by. The site she usually ordered them from had been sold out for a month. She picked them up, along with a new set of paints. Her old ones were mostly dried out and on another continent.

“What are these?” Darren raised an eyebrow at her as he picked up a pewter steampunk-styled figure from the shelf.

“They’re miniatures for wargaming. You paint them with your own colors and have Risk-style battles.” He grew interested as she explained the game to him. Her enthusiasm was apparently contagious because he walked out of the store with $250 less than he had going in.

She returned to the car with their purchases while he went to see if the pizza was ready. She had just put their things in the back of the car when the strange scent from the murder scene caught her nose. She could practically feel the fur beneath her skin shift, but she held her beast in check as she followed the source of the smell.

She followed it back across the street to the comic store, stopped, and her hackles rose. There in the middle of a field behind the building stood a tall person in what looked like a mediaeval cloak. This wasn’t the dark ages. Who the heck still wore cloaks? She watched with her as the person slowly lifted their head.

If she had been human, she wouldn’t have been able to make out the woman’s features from so far away. Her skin was luminous, fiery blue eyes peeked out of thick black lashes, and her bright red hair framed her face. The beautiful face was somehow familiar; but she couldn’t place it.

She walked slowly toward Kenna. She tried to growl, but her throat wouldn’t work. She couldn’t move. Sweat dripped into her eyes and she couldn’t blink or catch her breath as the woman approached. Her heart thudded violently against her chest and she thought she would faint. The woman reached her hand to Kenna’s face and she tried to scream, or run, or fight.

Pain filled her head and clouded her vision until she thought it would burst. She fell to her knees and called out for help.

A warm hand rested on her shoulder, she looked up and saw Darren looking down at her, his forehead wrinkling in concern. She lifted her head and glanced around in alarm. She stood in the middle of the field behind the comic book store.

“What is it? What are you doing here? Are you hurt?” Darren asked.

She could smell her own fear and confusion; he probably could too.

“I don’t know…” The last thing she remembered was leaving the store. He put an arm around her as she began to shake. Her confusion turned to fear and her instincts called for her to change and find a safe place to hide. Years of practice and control kept her from attacking the submissive wolf who dared to touch her. He knew the risk, but he paid it no mind as he led her to the vehicle.

She refused help getting into or out of the car when he drove her to the hotel, though she shook uncontrollably.

“Maybe you should lie down and rest.” His hands reached toward her as she fumbled with the key card on her door, though he didn’t overstep his bounds and try to help without permission.

“I’ve slept too much today already. I just need to get my mind off it for now.”

She went to the bathroom and washed up. When she came out, she saw him slathering an entire packet of ranch on his pizza.

“Did you want some too?” He grinned and held out a packet.

“It doesn’t taste right without it.” She sat and grabbed the packet and tore it open, squeezing a ranch smiley face onto her pizza.

He laughed. “I used to draw pictures on Ro’s pizza when she was little. Ben still makes fun of us; he thinks ranch on pizza is weird.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” She shook her head sadly and finished her slice.

They cleaned up their dinner and ordered a pay-per-view movie. Ben was letting her stay here for free; he could pay for this too.

“Which brush should I use for the metallic paint?” he asked. She handed him the appropriate brush and glanced back at the movie.

“Captain America is by far the best Avenger,” she argued as the shirtless actor came into view on the television.

“Rochelle says that too, but nice abs and dreamy eyes aren’t what make a good avenger.”

“That would be Thor,” she retorted. “And they certainly don’t hurt.”

They argued and laughed and painted far into the night. She had almost forgotten why she was there. It had been a long time since she felt this carefree. They enjoyed each other’s company until they fell asleep, one on either end of the couch.