Blood & Juniper

I attempt to smother a section of the forest fire with dirt, shoveling it with haste. With the Firestarter gone perhaps the flame will drop in temperature.

No good. This forest fire is out of control.

I go at it for a long time, desperately excavating loose soil, even attempting to use the woman as a plank to safety. Nothing gained but more burns and wasted energy.

I let out an aggravated yell and kick at the ground. I m.o.a.n defeat as I plop myself on the ground littered with the ditches I created. I rub my face with both hands, smearing soot and ash across it. The flames are getting higher, growing stronger and I'm slowly draining myself.

I glance up from my filthy palms, hopelessly watching as the flames engulf the cult circle of trees blazing stories above, strangling the branches and melting them down. The mild soft gray is choked by a roar of black billowing from the crackling plant life.

'Will I be burned alive by a forest fire or the rising sun? Which is worse?'

Wood splitters from above, I flick my gaze skyward and roll out of the way as a flaming limb descends into my circle of doom. I swing myself to the side as the charred wood pops like a firecracker. Embers explode, whizzing past my head. I bury my face in my arm as the heat screams into my eyes.

Even if the firefighters get here before sunrise, I don't think they'll put out the heart of this fire in time. I peek up again, examining the flames wrapping the enclosure of trees in dancing trails, creeping its way up to more branches hanging like a collapsing ceiling above my head.

Burying myself is out of the question. I'll likely be crushed by the falling debris and burned alive regardless. I start to dig a trench anyway.

I hear the snapping and groaning of a large timber giving way.

I pause, peering up wide eyed to witness a wave of pines branches shuffle and sway in the dark as if parting for a golem giant stomping through anything in its path.

An enormous pine emerges, tipping forward as it splinters loudly from the base, it's going to split my circle in half.

'Shit!'

The massive trunk comes whistling downward. The brown beam falls, crushing with a thud that makes the earth jump and birds squawk. My heart sinks from nearly being shoved into the surrounding fire from the force of it. A flock of wings flap away from the roaring chaos.

My dismay of more firewood filling my circle turns into a gleam of hope. This log is untouched by the fire! I scramble up the side of the colossal trunk, using it as a bridge to my escape. Count my lucky stars.

I cross over to the safety of the outer circle in a hurry. The forest is falling apart, it's been sizzling and smoking long enough that authorities have caught on. Sirens are wailing in the distance.

I hop off the base of the busted trunk to ground that has yet to be torched. I examine the cause for the fallen tree. It's been freshly hacked, something chewed into the end of it with multiple cuts. It doesn't look like tools were used to chop into the side, something unnatural tore into it.

I tense, this wasn't luck.

A steady deep heartbeat is the most languid sound in the crackling, dying woods. Then I smell something I should have detected immediately above the overwhelming campfire smog. I spot a lumberjack looking man staring at me expectantly. His tanned skin gleams with sweat from the heat.

That look, he knows something.

I don't give him a chance to react. I rush over in a flash, compelling him with my gaze.

"You're going to answer my questions," the green of my irises reflecting off a stringent, square jawed face as I demand, "Tell me what you know about the ones who kidnapped the girl. Where did they take her?"

I feel the sour twang of resistance as he pushes against my mental take over.

He wrinkles his nose, grimacing as if from an inflicted wound and takes a few steps back. Did he just brush off my control? He has a heartbeat but there's something very off about this man. He has a supernatural aura, a really strong one.

I spring to attack and ask questions later. This is all too fishy, he's ought to be another lacky sent to finish me off for disrupting their plans.

He dodges, sliding to the side then batting my hand that reaches for the edge of his open button up.

He grunts as I sucker punch him in the cheek. I fist the collar of his shirt with both hands, thrusting him back into a trunk. Winter flows to the forefront like a storm of ice behind my eyes and the back of my tongue as I attempt to control him again.

"Who are you? Why did you push the tree over? Tell me what you know!" I'm practically spitting this in his face as I crush him into the old pine.

He's fighting against the mental manipulation, avoiding my gaze like beams of direct sunlight.

A low snarl reverberates from his c.h.e.s.t like a bear. A burst of power surges forward as he forces me off of him. We go barreling into a row of pole-like aspens.

We smash right through them like bowling pins on strike. Bark spinning and ricocheting in all directions as we plummet to the floor. He knocks the wind out of me with a grunt, all of his weight pounds me into the ground. I waste no time forcing him off with a kick, then slamming a fist into that same cheek before he can recover.

I grapple with him, preventing him from getting to his feet. Forcing him into submission.

I nearly have him pinned where I want but start to falter. I'm losing ground in brute strength, what the hell is going on?

He seems a lot bigger than before, like Cooper's size. No, bigger! I swear his biceps have doubled, they're straining and warping the line of the plaid fabric. He's gaining muscle, vigor and height. I hiss through my teeth feeling the change in pressure and push back.

"Enough," he shouts sharply, shoving me off so emphatically I'm lifted into the air before touching back down. My sneakers scrap as I balance myself with one hand.

What kind of person am I dealing with? Or what kind of *creature*.

I stare into luminescent irises as the beastly man exhales deeply. The gold in his eyes stands out brighter against his almond flesh tone and dark brown hair. He seems to shrink slightly on the outward breath. I hear a pop as he cranks his neck one side relieving a kink. I hear more subtle cracks of his bones as he relaxes his stance.

Is he… A shapeshifter? What kind of deep shit did Ashlen get herself into?

I straighten my posture but don't fully ease, listening hard for an ambush. Where the hell is the rest of the pack, wolves travel together, right? We just passed the full moon. New Corvis is more of a vampire hotspot, why would a single werewolf be involved in this?

"You only need but ask, blood demon," the shapeshifter says evenly, though with slight agitation, "I would have answered without force."

I don't sense anyone else nearby. I observed the presumed shapeshifter and relax as civility seems to be a feasible approach for the time being. I study him, looking for the signs of someone trying to deceive.

Alright, let's try this again.

"So, you're looking for the little fledgling," he remarks blankly, "Then she didn't evade them, afterall. Unfortunate."

"How do you know about her?" I attempt to keep the hostility out of my tone, "Are you in league with that faction of Thorn?"

He shakes his head, "In truth, I rescued you from your fiery tomb in hopes you could aid me with information about those… "Thorn"."

He sighs, "From the looks of it, you don't know much more than I do."

He appears to be telling the truth.

"How do you know about the girl?" I repeat, airing on the side of caution by keeping Ashlen's name out of the conversation. He seems trustworthy thus far but he could be subtly fishing for information I'm not freely offering, "Do you know where they took her?"

"If you lost her trail I can only suspect they masked her scent with the stream. I do not know where they commune," he crosses his arms thoughtfully, "As for our acquaintance, coincidence. This is the second time encountering the girl. The first time she was with someone. Juniper, I believe that was her companion's name."

I ball my fist as he accurately names the Reaper, "She never mentioned you."

"Our run in was fairly uneventful. I wasn't intent on crossing paths again."

"So, you're saying you know nothing and have no affiliation with the Thorn," I state with closed eyes, tapping my fingers in consideration with a pause. I fix back on him, raking him with my skeptical gaze, "That doesn't explain why you are here."

"I have personal issues that I need resolve with the vampiric creed, nothing to do with your situation nor the girl," he elevates his chin slightly, staring at me with polite authority, "I hope you will reciprocate the information you have about them in return for my assistance and cooperation."

And if I refuse? I weigh the consequence for not sharing what I know. He may try to beat the answers out of me. Sounds like he's not their friend.

It isn't worth another brawl and may be to my advantage having him on my side. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, I suppose.

"The one I killed mentioned she was sent by the faction Altissimo. I don't know if that means anything to you but that's what I've got," I look up to recall anything else he might find useful that has no bearing on Ashlen or myself, "And that Firestarter… I think he's working with them but I don't think he's a part of the woman's faction."

He leans in with eyes fixed on me, "Why do you say that?"

Lack of loyalty for starters… "I don't think they were from the same bloodline. Usually Thorn factions share that trait since their captain is the one who typically turns their recruits, with a few exceptions. He's powerful enough to be calling the shots, not a flunky."

I look up at the smoky sky. It would be a fool's errand to look for Ashlen now. That Pyro is long gone and I don't have many hours of dark left. Damn it, I don't want to stop looking for her but I'm in no shape to battle the sun after fighting a Thorn vampire, supernatural fire and a werewolf.

"Was the Firestarter a Thorn captain?" the shapeshifter asks, interrupting my stewing thoughts, "Do you know what faction he belongs to?"

I shrug, "Don't know, though he's certainly dangerous and old enough to be Thorn Leader."

The werewolf grunts in acknowledgment, examining the fire headed to our little clearing. Fire is unpredictable, it's time to leave and make plans. He seems to have the same idea.

"Good luck finding the girl," his parting words over his shoulder as he turns away from the spreading blaze, "Her fate was undeserved."

"The same luck to you," I nod, heading for the road. It is undeserved and this won't be her fate.

No matter what it takes, I'll find her.