Fangs & Fire

Chapter 5: New Born

TW: gore, violence

Amara stood behind the bar of the Hôtel du Soleil, the dim lighting casting soft shadows over the room. It was late—well past midnight—and the graveyard shift was always the quietest. The upscale hotel was perched on the top floor of a sleek building in the heart of the city, offering breathtaking views of the skyline, though it was hard to appreciate it from the shadows of the bar.

The Hôtel du Soleil had a certain elegance to it, from its polished marble floors to the subtle French decor that whispered of old-world luxury. The top floor was reserved for VIPs, the kind who didn’t mind paying a premium for discretion and service. Amara had been working here for a while now, cleaning glasses, wiping down counters, and managing the occasional late-night drink order. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and gave her a sense of normalcy in a life that had suddenly become anything but.

She was alone, except for Eric Graton, the owner’s grandson, who worked under her supervision. Eric was good for the shift, mostly keeping to himself, and the two had settled into an unspoken routine. He wasn’t much older than her, though his arrogance made him seem like a world-weary businessman. Tonight, like every night, he was on his phone, seemingly absorbed in something more important than the work in front of him.

Amara grabbed a glass and began polishing it, the rhythmic motion almost meditative as she stared into the dark reflection of the room. The quiet hum of the vending machine in the corner was the only noise that filled the space, adding to the stillness of the late hour.

Her thoughts wandered. It had only been a few days since her conversation with Dominic at the hospital and her meeting with Arthur at the car shop. It felt like her life was beginning to shift on its axis. There were moments of peace, of routine, but they were always interrupted by the strange pull she felt toward both men. Dominic’s cryptic words, Arthur’s intensity—it was all too much to process at once.

She sighed, trying to clear her mind. But as she wiped the glass one last time, the intercom crackled, and she heard the familiar voice of Eric.

“Amara, can you grab the new order?” he asked, his voice laced with indifference.

She placed the glass down and moved to fulfill the order, trying to shake off the unease that had been creeping in. Dominic’s number was saved into her phone. Maybe it was just to check up on me after the discharge. The question of Arthur lingered too, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why her thoughts kept returning to him.

Amara glanced at the POS system in front of her, absently tapping her fingers on the counter as she waited for the next customer to approach the bar. The night had been quiet so far, but she wasn’t complaining. The graveyard shift had its perks—fewer people to deal with and a sense of solitude that was hard to find elsewhere.

But then the bar door opened, and a familiar figure stepped in. Rick.

Her heart sank.

Amara rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. She didn’t need this right now—not here, not tonight. She had barely been able to get him out of her mind since the assault. And now, of all places, he was here.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice edged with frustration as she stood up from behind the bar to face him.

Rick didn’t answer immediately, only staring at her with that infuriatingly smug look on his face. His silence made her uncomfortable, and she could feel a cold, tense knot forming in her stomach.

Without another word, Amara turned on her heel and walked to the back room, seeking the familiar comfort of Eric. As she stepped through the doorway, she ran a hand through her hair, trying to collect herself.

Eric looked up from the small office desk, immediately noticing the distraught expression on her face.

“Amara, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Amara paused for a moment, trying to find the words. She let out a heavy sigh before speaking, the emotions she had been holding back finally bubbling to the surface.

“That’s Rick, my ex. The one who—” She paused, her voice faltering for a moment as the memory of the assault threatened to resurface. “A few days ago, he… he attacked me. And now, he’s here. In the bar.”

Eric frowned, his expression hardening as he crossed his arms. “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know. He’s just sitting there, staring at me, and I… I don’t want to deal with him right now.”

Eric ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “Look, we can’t technically kick him out unless he’s doing something on the premises—you know, causing a scene or breaking any rules. But if he’s just sitting there…”

Amara rubbed her temples, the frustration creeping up again. “I just—I don’t know what to do. I can’t deal with him right now, not after everything that happened.” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

She looked up at Eric, the plea in her eyes clear. “Can you please just take over the bar for a bit? I need to figure out what to do. I can’t just stand there and pretend everything’s fine.”

Eric met her gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Yeah, I got you.”

Amara gave him a grateful but weary smile before turning back toward the bar, peeking through the door to see Rick still sitting in the same spot, staring at her. The sight made her stomach churn.

She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for whatever would come next. With Eric at the bar, she now had to decide what to do with Rick—how to handle him without making things worse.

Amara’s thoughts raced as she stood behind the bar, glancing nervously at Rick still sitting in the same spot. She reached for her phone, the weight of it in her pocket a reminder that she had an option—a way out. Dominic had been there for her before, and if there was any chance he would help again, now seemed like the time to ask.

She remembered his words, the assurance in his voice when he had promised to help her. Taking a deep breath, she dialed his number, her thumb hovering for a moment before hitting send.

The phone rang only once before Dominic picked up, his voice cutting through the tension in the air. “Amara, did you find a car for me to look at?” His tone was calm, efficient.

“Kind of,” she said, brushing off his question. There were bigger things to deal with now. “I called because… I need your help.”

Dominic was silent for a moment, but the calmness in his voice didn’t waver when he responded. “What’s going on?”

Amara hesitated, then spoke quickly, the words spilling out in one breath. “I don’t feel safe at work. Rick—the man who attacked me—he’s back at the bar, waiting for my shift to end. I can’t just ignore it.”

Dominic’s voice was steady, with no trace of hesitation. “I’ll take care of it. Stay there, keep your distance. I’m on my way.”

Amara’s chest tightened with a mix of relief and disbelief. She hadn’t expected such a direct, confident response, but there was no mistaking the certainty in his words.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I wasn’t sure who else to call.”

“You don’t need anyone else,” Dominic said, the finality in his tone unmistakable. “I’ll handle it.”

Amara stood in the back room, palms sweating as the adrenaline from earlier still pulsed through her veins. She hadn’t expected Rick to show up at the bar, but now that he had, the fear of him being there, watching her every move, gnawed at her. Her breath was shallow, and she kept replaying the moments when he had followed her home, the confrontation, the way he had shoved her against the wall.

Her head hung low, hands pressed against her forehead, trying to block out the memories, trying to find some sense of calm. The room was quiet, but the feeling of being trapped—of being watched—lingered in her mind. She had been staring at the ground for the past ten minutes, trying not to think about Rick’s presence, trying to breathe, but the tension wouldn’t leave.

Suddenly, a movement by the door startled her, and she jumped, her pulse racing again. Eric stood there, his expression unreadable as he looked down at her.

“Amara?” he asked, stepping further into the room. “You good?”

Amara looked up, blinking in confusion as her heart slowly began to calm. “Is he gone?” she asked, her voice tight. “Rick—did he leave?”

Eric nodded, a faint sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah. He just got up about ten minutes ago and hasn’t been back since. It looks like he finally decided to head out.”

Relief washed over Amara in waves, but the unease still clung to her. Rick may have left for now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t come back. Her hands were still trembling slightly, and she felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her.

“Thanks,” she said, finally looking up at Eric. “I… I just couldn’t deal with him being here, you know?”

Eric gave a small nod of understanding. “Yeah, I get it. If he comes back, we’ll handle it, alright?”

Amara didn’t reply right away, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. She gave him a tired smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Alright. I’m just glad he’s gone.”

Eric stood for a moment longer, studying her quietly, before nodding once again. “You’re good. Go back out when you’re ready.”

Amara watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him. As the silence returned to the back room, she let out a shaky breath. She wasn’t sure if Dominic’s arrival would truly solve everything, but for now, the immediate threat was gone.

After a long breath, Amara gathered herself, stepping back behind the bar. She fumbled for her phone, the relief from Rick’s departure still hanging in the air. She quickly began dialing Dominic’s number to let him know that the threat had passed, that Rick had left.

Before she could even press call, the bar doors swung open with a sudden jolt. Amara’s heart skipped a beat, and she froze. Dominic stepped into the bar, his presence immediate and commanding. She blinked, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Had he really come?

He was looking directly at her, his sharp eyes scanning the room. Just as she was about to tell him that Rick had left, an alarm seemed to flash across his face. Without any preamble, he took a quick step toward her.

“We have to go,” he said urgently, grabbing Amara by the wrist.

Her heart lurched in confusion. “What?” she asked, her voice low. She instinctively pulled back, her other hand gripping the edge of the counter. “I don’t leave for another couple hours. What’s going on?”

Dominic’s gaze flicked around the room, his sharp eyes scanning every corner as if searching for something. His expression darkened. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “Something’s wrong. You’re not safe here right now.”

Amara blinked, a mix of frustration and confusion bubbling up inside her. What was going on? She didn’t like being pushed around, and his cryptic words weren’t helping.

“I can’t just leave,” she said, a little more firmly. “I’ll get fired if I walk out of here early. Plus, I supervise the owner’s grandson.” Her voice carried the edge of annoyance that had built up with the sudden change in his behavior. “You’re not making any sense.”

Dominic let out a frustrated grunt. Without another word, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He dialed a number with a quick swipe and walked away, speaking in low tones as he paced just out of earshot.

Amara stood still, her pulse racing, the silence in the bar pressing down on her. She watched him for a moment, trying to understand what was happening, but the frustration only grew as Dominic remained out of her reach, talking with someone who sounded far too calm for the situation.

A minute later, Dominic returned, his expression a mix of determination and calm. “Let’s go,” he said, his tone final. “You’re cleared.”

Amara raised an eyebrow, the confusion still clouding her thoughts. “What do you mean, ‘cleared’? How can I leave without being fired?” Her voice was sharper now, the questions piling up.

Dominic didn’t miss a beat, his eyes meeting hers without hesitation. “It was the owner,” he said bluntly. “Now grab your things. We’re leaving.”

Amara’s heart raced as she quickly stuffed her belongings into her bag, her fingers trembling with the urgency of the situation. She glanced at Eric, who was watching her with a raised brow.

“I’ve been dismissed for the night,” she said quickly, her voice rushed. “Thank you for covering the bar. I really appreciate it.”

Eric gave her a half-nod, though the look on his face showed a mix of confusion and concern. “No problem, but don’t forget the closing procedure.”

“Right, right,” Amara muttered, her mind elsewhere as she hurried toward the back door. Dominic’s voice was already calling out to her from the shadows, sharp and commanding.

“Hurry up, Amara!” Dominic’s voice carried through the empty hallway. She froze for a moment at the sound of his urgency, her stomach twisting with a mix of fear and curiosity, but she didn’t waste another second. She grabbed the last of her things, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she headed for the exit.

The elevator doors opened and Amara stepped inside, feeling the cold press of the metal walls around her. Dominic entered right after her, the tension in the air thick as the doors closed. She couldn’t keep her thoughts from racing as she turned to face him, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

“What’s going on?” Amara asked, her voice quiet but insistent. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She needed answers. “What’s the threat?”

Dominic remained silent for a moment, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the elevator like he was searching for something. Finally, he turned his gaze to her, his expression calm but unreadable.

“I’ll explain when there isn’t a threat,” he said, his voice low but firm, the finality in his words making it clear that this was not up for discussion.

Amara swallowed nervously, a pit forming in her stomach. What threat? Her mind raced, the memories of Rick flooding back. Had it been him? Was he involved somehow? She couldn’t push away the gnawing feeling that something bigger was at play, something she didn’t fully understand.

The elevator moved steadily downward, but the air between them was thick with unspoken tension. Amara nervously shifted on her feet, trying to process the situation while Dominic remained still, quiet, and focused.

The moment felt stretched, suspended in time, and Amara couldn’t help but wonder if whatever Dominic was protecting her from had something to do with Rick—and if she was truly safe at all.

The elevator doors slid back open with a soft chime, and Amara quickly stepped into the lobby, scanning the area for any sign of Rick. She didn’t see him. The room was quiet, and the patrons who were still lingering at the bar didn’t seem to notice her as she walked through. Relief washed over her for a moment, but the anxiety of what had just transpired, and the uncertainty of what was to come, still lingered.

Dominic moved ahead of her, his footsteps confident and purposeful as he led the way toward the door. His Audi R8 gleamed under the hotel’s street lights, and he turned to Amara, his expression already unreadable.

“Let’s go,” he said, his tone firm, as he made his way toward the car.

Amara hesitated, her eyes flicking to Dominic’s car for a moment before she shook her head, a stubborn resolve creeping into her.

“I drove here with my car,” she said, her voice quiet but determined. “I’m fine. I’ll drive myself.”

Dominic stopped in his tracks, his expression flickering with a flash of frustration. His jaw tightened, and he let out a low sigh before rubbing his eyes as though to reset his patience.

“You don’t need to move it,” he said, his tone a little more clipped now. “We’ll come back for it later. It’s safer if you’re with me, anyway.”

Amara’s gaze softened, but she remained firm. “I’m fine, Dominic. I want to drive myself.”

Dominic paused, staring at her for a moment, before exhaling sharply. His frustration was clear, but he didn’t argue further. “Fine,” he muttered. “Take me to the car, then.”

Amara nodded, not willing to back down. She turned on her heel and headed toward the back alley where employees parked, Dominic following closely behind her, his footsteps more subdued now. The tension between them was palpable, but she wasn’t going to let go of her independence—not now.

Amara unlocked her door with the key on her side and swung it open. The cool air from outside rushed into the car, but it didn’t matter. She could feel the weight of Dominic’s presence behind her as he approached, his steps heavy and deliberate. She opened the other door from the inside, ready to slide into the driver’s seat.

But just as she was about to settle in, she heard Dominic’s voice, tinged with frustration.

“This is what you bought?” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as though trying to will away a headache. “I thought I told you to call me.”

Amara froze, her hand still on the doorframe. She glanced back at him, noticing the exasperation in his posture and the annoyance in his tone. She felt the tension building between them, but her pride flared up.

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “It’s a good car. Just… a little older. But it works.”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed, and he sighed deeply, clearly not convinced. “It’s not about age, Amara. It’s about safety.” He shook his head, clearly displeased. “You should’ve let me help. This is the kind of car you don’t drive around with on a whim. Not with everything going on.”

Amara bristled at his words but held her ground. “I don’t need your help,” she snapped, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “I can handle this.”

Dominic’s jaw clenched, but instead of arguing further, he stepped back. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone still laced with irritation. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Amara slid into the driver’s seat, fumbling for her keys. She inserted them into the ignition, turning it with a small twist. The engine coughed weakly, sputtering for a moment before stalling entirely. Her hands tightened around the wheel in frustration.

“Come on,” she muttered, trying again.

This time, the engine sputtered even worse, choking out in a series of gurgling noises before going completely silent. Amara slammed her hand on the dashboard in irritation, trying one more time.

From the passenger seat, Dominic scoffed, a sound of clear disbelief. He swung his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I told you to call me,” he said, his voice a mix of concern and exasperation.

Amara’s eyes flicked to him with an edge. “Don’t say it,” she said through gritted teeth, her patience starting to wear thin. She twisted the key again, but the car just refused to cooperate, each attempt met with the same dead silence.

Then, just as she was about to try yet again, the car suddenly shuddered under a loud crash. The sound of metal bending filled the air, followed by the dreadful cracking of glass. Amara’s head whipped up, eyes widening in horror.

There, right above her, four dents appeared in the roof of the car, followed by the windshield cracking under the pressure. Her breath caught in her throat as the reality of what had just happened sank in.

“s**t!” Dominic cursed under his breath, his hands moving to open his door, but he stopped short when he found it wouldn’t budge. He pulled on the handle again, trying to force it open, but the jammed door wouldn’t move.

“The roof’s bent,” Dominic muttered, frustration and disbelief creeping into his voice as he tried once more to open the door. It wasn’t going anywhere.

Amara was frozen for a second, staring at the shattered glass, before her scream cut through the air. “What the hell is going on?!”

Dominic swore again, his voice low and tense. “Get out. Now.”

Before Amara could even reach for the door, she heard a scratching noise above her. The roof of the car groaned, and before she could react, something crawled down the windshield, pushing shattered glass inward with an unnatural strength.

Amara’s heart stopped.

There, standing right in front of the car, was Rick—but it wasn’t the same Rick she remembered. His skin was pale, almost sickly white, and the deep, dark bags under his eyes made him look like a shell of the man he once was. His lips were twisted into a sickly grin, but around the corners of his mouth was a dark liquid, smeared, staining his skin. The air around him felt heavier, suffocating.

Amara froze in terror, her fingers trembling uncontrollably against the steering wheel.

“Baby, I need you so bad right now, please listen to me,” Rick’s voice came out low and ragged, almost desperate, his words slurring in a way that made her blood run cold.

Amara couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The terror coursed through her veins as she stared at the man she had once loved, only to realize he was something… else now.

She barely managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong with him?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Dominic, his posture tense, eyes never leaving Rick. He exhaled sharply, like he had seen this before. His voice was calm, but there was a note of grim finality.

“I don’t know what happened to him,” Dominic said quietly, his gaze flickering briefly to Amara before returning to Rick. “But I know what he is.”

Amara’s heart raced. “What… is he?”

Before Amara could even process what was happening, the roof above the car crashed again with an overwhelming force. Another blast of glass rained down into the car as something massive landed on top. The sheer size of the creature was enough to make Amara’s heart stop. The streetlamp cast a long, eerie shadow, revealing a towering monstrous form—hairy, hulking, and far more ferocious than anything Amara could have imagined.

The creature loomed over Rick, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light, its chest heaving with predatory intent.

Rick screamed, a terrified, guttural sound that echoed through the night. Before Amara could react, the monster pounced. It was brutal, savage, and swift. Amara could only watch in horror as the creature ripped into Rick with terrifying force. The sound of flesh tearing, of bones cracking under the pressure, was sickening, and Amara’s stomach twisted with dread.

Dominic, however, remained calm. His eyes never left the scene, his posture relaxed as if this kind of violence was something he’d seen before. Amara’s heart pounded in her chest, but she felt a cold hand wrap around hers.

“It’s okay,” Dominic’s voice was steady, reassuring in the chaos. “It’ll be okay.”

He grabbed her hand, his grip strong, and without hesitation, he tore the door open with ease. The sound of the metal warping as he yanked it aside made Amara flinch. Dominic helped her out of the car, lifting her effortlessly. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he grabbed her by the waist, and in the blink of an eye, they were soaring upward, leaving the ground behind them. The wind whipped around them, and Amara’s terrified shrieks echoed through the alleyway as they ascended.

The city lights blurred beneath them as they shot higher, but before she could grasp the enormity of what was happening, they came to a sudden stop. Dominic set her down gently on a flat rooftop, steadying her as she stumbled, still shaken.

Amara gasped for breath, the dizziness of the flight overwhelming her senses. Her stomach turned. The entire world felt like it was spinning.

She pulled away from Dominic’s steadying hands, her face pale as the rush of terror and the aftermath of the chaos below consumed her. In a single, violent motion, she retched, the nausea that had built in her chest finally breaking free.

Dominic stood by, his eyes locked on her as she regained some semblance of composure, but his gaze was far away, focused on something beyond her discomfort.

Amara leaned heavily against the rooftop ledge, still trying to catch her breath after her violent hurling session. Her stomach felt like it was turning inside out, the aftermath of the terror she had just witnessed mixed with the disorienting flight. It took a moment before the world stopped spinning, and she could finally pull herself together.

Dominic stood a few feet away, his gaze impassive, as if he were waiting for her to regain some composure. When she finally wiped her mouth and straightened up, he stepped toward her, wordlessly handing her a handkerchief. She took it with shaky hands, dabbing at her mouth in disbelief. “What the f**k!?”

In the next second, a large mass launched itself from over the ledge, its massive form plummeting toward them with alarming speed. Before Amara could react, the creature landed a few feet away, sending a tremor through the ground beneath them. It was a sight so terrifying, so unnatural, that her breath caught in her throat.

Amara instinctively stepped backward, her body pressing into Dominic’s, seeking the protection he offered. She couldn’t help it—the creature that stood before them was enormous, its wolf-like head fixed on them with glowing eyes. The fur-covered monster slowly stood up, towering over them both, the air thick with its presence. Its size was staggering, the beast’s muscles rippling beneath its thick fur as it looked them over.

Amara’s heart hammered in her chest. Every instinct in her screamed to run, to get away from this nightmare, but her body froze, her legs locking in terror. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the creature, its massive jaws slightly parted as if it were sizing them up.

Then, from beside her, a low chuckle echoed through the night. Dominic. He was calm, almost amused, as if facing such a creature was no more than a casual encounter for him.

“That’s… not the worst of it,” he muttered, his voice tinged with dry humor.

Amara’s world tilted. Her vision blurred, her knees buckling beneath her as the weight of everything—from the terror of Rick’s transformation to the crushing reality of the situation—became too much.

With a final scream of panic, her body collapsed to the floor. Darkness quickly enveloped her senses, and everything faded to black.