On Fire (25 page)

Just another fine specimen of manhood,
Kate thought.
Wouldn’t it be lovely to be married to someone like this guy?

“Hey, McCall,” a man said. “I’ll get that. Some guy’s having problems with the car wash again. Go check it.”

McCall made a face and muttered, “Why do I have to do it?” but came around the counter and went out the front door in disgust. The man turned to Kate, looked her up, looked her down. He was wearing a white shirt with Alan Seber engraved on a cheap plastic nameplate.

She put down thirty bucks and Alan Seber got her change. Then she hustled into her car and took off. Her pulse began to race, her heart to pound. She couldn’t wait to see that house go up.

As she punched on some bouncy music, she replayed some of the finer moments of the crazy, no-holds-barred sex she and Derek had had. She couldn’t deny she’d miss that. No one knew she’d slept with the enemy. They’d be shocked—revolted—if they found out. But she loved the danger. Derek had been a virgin, and a werewolf going through puberty, and she’d seduced him and taunted and lured him to do a full shift. He never had. Impressive. There were sixty ways she could have ended up dead—except for the Taser she kept under her pillow. And the weapons she’d hidden all over her house—under the couch, in the kitchen, and the bathroom. The risk had been huge. But that was what had made the sex so fantastic.

She looked down at the ring he had given her. Her lips
twitched, and then she began to laugh. She laughed all the way to the Hale homestead.

The killing fields.

•  •  •

Was that Kate?
Derek wondered as he came out of the bathroom at the minimart. He had his earbuds in, listening to Wolfgang Gartner, so he hadn’t quite picked up the voices of the customer and the bored store clerk. Of course, he was so in love with Kate that he heard her voice
everywhere.
He thought every other woman he saw was her.

He and Laura were driving into school together super early so Laura could attend her homecoming dance committee meeting. Her friends had agreed to hold it before school so she could participate. She couldn’t do it after school today because the pack would begin its Wolf Moon celebration, and the excuse Laura had given was that family was visiting from out of town. Very true. And since Derek couldn’t swim after school, either, their dad had ordered Derek to leave the motorcycle at home and ride with his sister.

Derek didn’t know how he would be able to stand an entire weekend without seeing Kate. He loved Wolf Moon and all that came with it, but he loved Kate Argent, too. Maybe this time next year she would get the Bite.

He knew Kate only lifeguarded in the afternoons, but after Laura parked and went off to her meeting, he went to the pool and watched the water shimmer. He could almost
see her swimming like a mermaid beside him. He wanted to howl of his devotion to her. Instead he walked to the pool’s edge, dipped in his fingertips, and smiled.

Then he took advantage of the spare time to lift some weights in the gym. Surrounded by sweaty jocks, he silently pumped iron, reminding himself to hold back so he wouldn’t betray how superstrong he was. He was going to kick Josh’s ass in the challenge.

Derek showered, dressed, and entered the main corridor of the school. A freshly painted banner announcing the sale of homecoming dance tickets hung across the front door, where students were pouring in. He’d never been to a school dance before, and he was actually looking forward to it.

She’s opening up my world,
he thought.
She
is
my world.

And then he heard Laura screaming.

Beacon Hills

The Present

“You can’t trust human women,” Derek murmured as he and Stiles stared into the campfire. The big bad wolfman had been silent for a long time, and Stiles wasn’t sure where his mind had gone. Before Stiles could ask Derek if he’d like to share his story with the class—being him—Derek abruptly stood.

“I’m going to look some more,” he said.

“Right. I’m good to go,” Stiles affirmed, but as he scrambled to get up, he looked around and realized Derek had ditched him. He was already gone, charging back into the woods.

“Arghgrrwoww,” Stiles muttered, imitating werewolf displeasure as best he could. He hunkered down to be useless and was about to play some more Wolfenstein on his phone—you had to love the classics in part because they were so ironic—when he heard a ding and jumped half a foot. Scott had texted him. Plus pictures. He looked at them. Cliff. Yow. Bushes.

Hmm.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted into the woods. “Scott checked in!”

There was no answer.

“Damn it, Derek. You
know
what you’re getting for Christmas, right? A cell phone. So don’t devour the Claus when he comes down that chimney,” Stiles grumbled.

Stiles made the command decision to head off in Scott’s direction. He would feel a million times better with some backup, but maybe Derek would hear him and close the distance.

On my way
, Stiles texted back to Scott.

•  •  •

Derek heard Stiles yelling that he had found Scott, which was fine. And also nothing to do with him. Scott wasn’t his priority at the moment.

The Alpha went this way
.

He had caught the scent and was on the hunt. Tracking through the dense woods, he allowed himself to shift, then fell down onto all fours to close the distance between him and the Alpha. His hackles rose and he let himself howl.
Adrenaline and testosterone washed through his wolfish body and ignited his aggressive instincts. He was so close he could nearly taste the Alpha’s blood.

I’ve got you now,
he thought.

•  •  •

The Alpha.

Through the hazy smoke above them, Scott sensed the werewolf that had bitten him. The monster that had changed his life and was trying to force him into even more extreme changes.

His waking, walking nightmare.

Scott felt as if he had been plunged into ice, and he shivered, hard. The wolf inside Scott howled
crisis, menace, threat
; but it also cried
pack, belonging, Alpha.

He tilted his head and allowed his eyesight to shift, keeping his face hidden from Allison as she cuddled in his arms for warmth. At the top of the cliff, a black shape moved like liquid among the boulders and trees. Then, in a heart-stopping moment, the Alpha’s red eyes gazed down on Scott.

Scott almost threw up. Flashes of the terrible night when the Alpha had tried to make him kill Mr. Meyers shot through his mind like a strobe light. In his nightmarish memories, he had seen himself mauling Allison, hobbling her, dragging her down the length of the bus. It was what the Alpha wanted him to do, was willing him to do this very moment.

I didn’t kill for you
, Scott silently told the Alpha.
And I never will
.

But the memory of last night’s dream was even fresher, and more real.

A wolf had appeared to him in his dream, and in real life.

“There’s so much smoke,” Allison said, waving her hand in front of her face. “I wonder if someone’s campfire got out of control.”

And there was fire.

In his dream.

And in real life.

Scott didn’t answer. He was on the verge of shifting. He could feel the wolf inside him straining to come out for the Alpha. Or was it at the Alpha?

I hate you
, Scott thought, but part of him quailed.

He hated the Alpha with all his heart.

And feared him with all his soul.

Then suddenly, an entire tree engulfed in flames rolled off the top of the cliff and crashed into the tiny horseshoe shape where Scott and Allison were huddled. Allison’s scream was eclipsed by the massive crash and splintering as chunks of burning wood and sparks cascaded into the air, then showered down on them.

“Allison!” Scott shouted, throwing himself over her. Little fiery bombs smacked against him, and his clothes began to smolder.

“Scott, Scott!” Allison cried.

She pounded on his back and arms to put him out, then began pulling his jacket off of him. He helped her, checking his hair and hers. His shirt came next, and he whirled around, naked from the waist up, glaring at the spot where
he had seen the Alpha. He sensed that it was still there, still watching. Waiting.

It wanted him to shift. But if he did, he would hurt Allison.

“Scott, Scott!” Allison cried as the tree blazed, flames taking up nearly all the room the two of them had been sharing. He fought the shift, squinting at the impenetrable thicket of bushes. It was the only way out—but he couldn’t make himself go.

Allison’s face was getting shiny and red; sweat was pouring across his biceps and pecs. He wished he could carry her out of there—

—and then he had a thought. If he could get the fire to ignite the bushes and burn some of them away, maybe she could escape. Maybe he could, too.

It’s my dream, my horrible dream
, he thought, as his nails began to lengthen and his teeth to sharpen. But he reminded himself that at the end of the dream, he had survived. And the real wolf had come. The real wolf had meant safety.

He didn’t have time to figure out symbols and portents. He had to save Allison . . . and himself. Darting to the massive tree, he broke off one of the as-yet unburned limbs, dipped its leafy end into the fire, and tossed it at the bushes.

“What are you doing?” Allison cried.

“Trying to making a clearing,” he said. “Then you can get out.”

She watched him for a second. Then she reached forward to grab a branch, but more of the tree ignited with a loud
fwum.
She jumped away, colliding with Scott, who
grabbed her and held her. In the scarlet firelight, he saw that his fingernails were growing longer.

This is what you want,
he accused the Alpha silently.
But you can’t have it. Ever.

He eased her aside, grabbed another burning branch, and lobbed it in the same direction as the first one. All his hours of lacrosse drills paid off, as he hit the same section of bushes.

Allison burst into a fit of coughing. Doubling over, she hacked and choked, and she sounded like she was dying.

“I can’t breathe, Scott,” she said hoarsely. “There’s too much smoke.”

J
ackson looked down at the blur in his vision that was Cassie. She wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, and the fire from the van was creeping through the grass toward her. He didn’t know what to do. He could try to bend backward and grab an arm or a leg, but he didn’t think he could do it. He was seeing double, triple, and he could barely stand up.

If I could somehow yank off these cuffs,
he thought.

He lurched away from the van, woozy and sick, forcing one leg in front of the other.

Then he heard her call softly, “Help.”

Maybe a hero could do it. Maybe a hero would do it.

But as for Jackson, he staggered away as far as he could get, and then he collapsed onto the ground.

•  •  •

Scott put his arms around Allison, who was beginning to droop. He was coughing, too, and remembering what it felt
like to be an asthmatic. Horrible. Life-ending. If she couldn’t get some air, she would die.

It crossed his mind once to give her the Bite, but he didn’t know if it would work. He was just a Beta.

Maybe that was what the Alpha had wanted him to do. He didn’t know.

But he did know it wasn’t the answer. Not here. Not now.

He let his vision go to red and saw that the section of bushes in front of them had been burned down until they were only chest high, if that tall. Allison had told him that she’d done gymnastics, and that gave him an idea.

“Allison,” he said. “Listen. I’ll get you on my shoulders and walk you over. Can you jump over the bushes then, and get out of here?”

“What about your ankle?” she asked.

“I can do it. I’ll do it,” he insisted.

“I can’t leave you here,” she said. Her voice sounded weak. Could she do it? Was this too crazy?

“We’ll both die if you don’t,” he said.

Tears and sweat rolled down her face as she nodded. He got down on one knee. Clumsy from lack of oxygen, Allison struggled to climb up him like a circus performer.

He walked her over. The fire behind him was superhot. His body responded to the threat: his heartbeat shot up and he continued wolfing, quickly, and he realized that this was Allison’s only chance. The fire wasn’t high, or intense, where he walked her. But if she didn’t get away from him, get away . . . away . . .