Fit for Fire

Adeline

After thirty minutes and a few taste tests, I found myself singing along to Sam Smith while sliding a pan of double chocolate brownies into the oven.

I continued my solo concert as I washed the dishes.

Once they were in the dishwasher, I started it and moved on to cleaning the countertops. I was trying to keep my hands and my mind busy.

It was nearing eight o’clock in the evening, and after a full day of running, I was worn out. But I couldn’t afford to rest just yet. I had too much to do.

I turned to face my living room, crossing my arms as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I let my gaze wander around the room.

The glow from the streetlight outside filtered through the double windows set in an exposed brick wall. A white heater was mounted on the floor between them.

I’d tried to hide it with a wooden box filled with fake flowers during the warmer months.

My tan couch, faded on one side from the sunlight, faced a large bookshelf that also served as my entertainment center.

A modest TV sat on top, surrounded by paintings from local artists. There were no personal photos on my walls—I didn’t really have any.

I did have a picture of my mom, but it was framed and kept on my dresser.

My apartment wasn’t fancy, but it was mine, and I was proud of it.

I’d worked hard to land a decent job, and I was able to afford my own place and pay my own bills. My life wasn’t glamorous.

There were still things I wanted, things I wished I had. I wasn’t wealthy, but I was content. Or at least, I had been. I’d worked so hard to get here.

To overcome the assumptions people made about me based on my past. If I’d done it once, I could do it again.

I walked to my room and changed out of my robe into a pair of worn skinny jeans and a white lacy tank top.

Digging through my closet, I found a backpack small enough for my wolf form to carry.

I gathered all my important documents, including my state ID and ATM card, and carefully placed them in the back of my bag.

I pulled out the cash I’d hidden in my underwear drawer and a few other essentials, packed them in the bag, and slid it under my bed.

If anyone came looking for me here, I could escape through the fire escape outside my bedroom window.

Looking out that window, I grimaced. I hated that my time here was ending. I pulled out a small suitcase and began to pack it.

I’d take both bags with me if I had time, but if I needed to leave in a hurry, the backpack would have to suffice.

I grabbed my tablet and lay on my bed. With a sigh of frustration, I started researching how to replace my phone and the process for reporting my car stolen.

Knowing I needed a plan, I searched for areas with multiple job openings in my field that I could reach by bus.

Being an IT specialist meant I could find work almost anywhere, so relocating wouldn’t be as difficult as I was making it out to be.

I looked up the cost of bus tickets and started to form a plan. I got up from my bed and tucked my tablet and its charger into my backpack.

I walked over to the closet and put on my shoes. All that was left to do was pack my toiletries and bag up my brownies.

I left my room and walked reluctantly to my bathroom to gather my personal items for my bag.

After stuffing my toothbrush and toothpaste into a Ziplock bag, I grabbed my hairbrush and a few other things before returning to my room to pack them in my backpack.

As I shoved them into the bag, I berated myself for deciding to run so close to home. I should’ve had better control.

Now I had a pack of werewolves on my tail, and I was going to have to leave everything behind.

I straightened up and looked at my ceiling, trying to find a silver lining in all of this. At least now I knew I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought.

I forced a tight smile onto my lips. That was something.

The smell of brownies began to fill the apartment, and I found myself genuinely smiling. I abandoned my bag and followed the delicious scent back to the kitchen.

I was passing my front door when a sudden noise made me pause. I could hear heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

With my enhanced hearing, I’d become familiar with the sounds of everything and everyone around me.

My only neighbors were an elderly couple and a single mom with her daughter, so this sound was new to me.

I reminded myself that people sometimes had visitors, even at this hour, and took a deep breath to steady myself before peeking through the peephole.

I closed one eye and leaned in, hoping to identify the source of the noise.

I gasped and felt panic surge through me when I saw two tall, muscular men in black suits. One of them had dirty-blonde hair and green eyes. Jeremy. As I turned away from the door, my heart pounded and my breath hitched. This was definitely going to put a damper on my brownie-eating plans.

I pushed myself away from the door and ran to the kitchen.

I turned my music up louder to drown out their hearing and gave my oven a longing look. With only a few minutes left, I turned it off just as someone knocked on my door.

I ran to my room, closed and locked the door, and wedged my desk chair under the doorknob.

I grabbed my bag and rushed to my window. I could hear my front door opening as I climbed out the window.

I was starting to notice a pattern of sneaking out of windows as I hurried down the fire escape.

I’d only made it down one floor when a tall man with thick black hair and dark eyes appeared on the stairs in front of me.

He was wearing black slacks and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His collar was stretched, his tie was loose, and his hair looked like he’d been running his hand through it.

He looked strangely familiar. Where had I seen him before?

Despite his disheveled appearance, I was certain he was one of the wolves I’d heard storming up my stairs earlier.

I skidded to a stop, almost colliding with him. I caught myself and took a step back on the landing, catching a whiff of a tantalizing scent.

That’s when I realized where I’d seen this man before. I’d completely forgotten about him in the chaos of the past few days.

“Zach?” The name slipped out before I could stop it. This was the same man who’d stirred something strange within me in the woods, the night I was taken.

He finished his climb up to the landing, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his handsome face. He was just a foot away from me now.

His large frame blocked any chance of me getting past him. Behind me, there were only stairs leading back to my window.

I felt cornered, and his smug expression irked me. My fist clenched, and it took all my willpower not to wipe that smug smile off his face.

He took a step closer, sniffing me curiously. His brows furrowed, just like they had in the woods.

I had to fight the urge to lean in and breathe him in again.

Part of me wanted to bury my face in his chest to get a better whiff. But I forced myself to stay composed.

I took another step back, and a small breeze blew from behind me, sending my hair fluttering across my face.

He sniffed again, and his face hardened as if he was coming to some realization.

His eyes widened in surprise, and he ran a hand through his thick hair, licking his lips.

The way he looked at me made me feel uneasy.

But it also made me want to step closer.

Confused by the conflicting signals my body was sending, I started to retreat up the steps. Shaking off his daze, he began to follow me.

Spotting a pull-down ladder to my right, I lunged for it, but he was quicker. He lunged forward, his hand landing on my arm, pushing me away from the ladder.

The moment his fingertips brushed my bare skin, a shock ran through me, and my arm tingled under his touch.

I gasped and jumped back as if I’d been burned. What was that? Confusion washed over me as I looked from my arm to him.

Something about this man both terrified and thrilled me.

He was still leaning in, his hot breath fanning my chest. He was too close. I needed to put some distance between us.

I had to find a way past him. I continued to back away, closing the distance between me and my still-open window.

A single tear trickled down my cheek as I watched him herd me backward.

Glancing sideways at the stairs leading to the roof, I weighed my options. It might buy me some time, but ultimately, I’d be cornered.

I sighed, not for the first time wishing I could turn into a bird instead of a wolf. With no other options, I climbed back through my window.

I moved to the center of my room, my heart leaping into my throat as my bedroom door was ripped from its hinges.

Jeremy stood behind the werewolf who was still holding my door.

Zach climbed through my window, and I swallowed my tears, putting on a brave face before turning to Jeremy.

I knew that talking back to these men could be dangerous, but I decided I wouldn’t let them see my fear.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I said in the most nonchalant voice I could muster, “You owe me a door.”

Zach motioned for us to leave the room.

As I walked through my doorway, I saw Patrick leaning against my kitchen counter. My radio was off, and the closet door was open.

I almost laughed.

I might not know much about the werewolf community, but I knew enough about myself to know they would have heard and smelled me hiding in the closet.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Zach grinning at Patrick.

He raised his hand, rubbing his thumb across his remaining fingers before saying, “Pay up.”

Patrick grumbled, pulling out his wallet and handing over some bills. “You called it, Zach. She took the fire escape.”

A wave of anger washed over me. They’d bet on how I would try to escape? My life was a joke to them.

Just then, my kitchen timer went off. Grateful for the distraction, I headed for the kitchen, but Jeremy grabbed my injured shoulder.

I yelped, and a deep growl echoed from behind me. I turned to look at Zach, thinking the growl was meant for me.

He was rigid, his eyes narrowed at where Jeremy was touching me. His angry gaze was directed at Jeremy, not me.

Still, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. Jeremy looked confused and conflicted, and as Zach growled louder, Jeremy let go of me.

I gestured toward my stove, asking, “May I?” My voice was dripping with contempt.

Jeremy shrugged, his eyes still on Zach.

I turned off the timer on my way to the oven, slipped on a mitt, and pulled out the brownies.

The rich, chocolatey aroma hit me as soon as I opened the oven door. I looked at them appreciatively, pleased that they’d turned out okay despite everything.

“Anyone want a brownie?” I asked dryly, sliding the pan onto the stove.

Despite the tension in the room and the uncertainty of what was to come, I tried to act as normal as possible.

After all, I’d be damned if I didn’t get to eat at least one of these brownies after everything that had happened.

The men looked at me, stunned.

“First time you home invaders have been offered dessert?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll take one,” Jeremy said, raising his hand sheepishly. The other men looked at him, and he shrugged. “She offered.”

I pulled out a couple of plates, cut a large square with a spatula, and slid it onto a plate for Jeremy.

He thanked me before breaking off a piece and shoving it into his mouth. I served myself a brownie next.

Zach, who was still standing by Patrick, kept his eyes on me. I focused on my plate.

“Search the house,” Patrick ordered the men, leaning casually against the wall.

They split up, and I winced when I heard glass shatter in my bedroom.

“Sorry!” called the man who’d broken my door. Apparently, destruction was his specialty.

Zach moved around the room, looking amused as he took everything in. “Not the dark sanctum of roguedom you expected?”

I shot him a look as he inspected my bookshelf.

When he looked at me, I felt a flush creep up my face as his gaze traveled down my body. “It’s better,” he whispered.

His voice was so soft I barely heard him.

“Really?” I barely managed to get the words out as he took a step closer. His gaze was his only reply as he began to move toward me.

I held my ground, watching him. The nearer he got, the more potent his scent became. His very existence seemed to intoxicate me, and I found myself liking it.

A larger part of me despised it. I loathed this strange control he seemed to have over me.

I detested how my body felt like it was betraying me, and as he stopped right in front of me, I loathed how my hand yearned to reach out and touch him.

The sound of heavy footsteps made Zach tear his gaze from me. I let out a shaky breath, grateful for the distraction.

Patrick walked up to Zach, and when he was next to him, the two exchanged a wordless glance.

After a moment, Patrick gave a nod, and Zach left to do his own inspection. I watched Patrick cautiously, stabbing my brownie as I pondered my next move.

A minute later, all the men were back in my living room.

“We didn’t find anything,” Jeremy informed Patrick.

Patrick nodded at him before turning to me. “Ms. Harris, you’ll be coming with us.”

I glanced at the guys behind him, briefly considering my odds of winning this fight before responding, “No, I’m not. You found nothing; I’ve done nothing.”

Patrick smiled. “Then why would you run?”

My eyes widened, and I gestured toward him, “Why wouldn’t I? Was I supposed to trust the strange men who kidnapped me and locked me up for being born alone?”

The corner of Zach’s mouth twitched.

My hands were trembling. I tried to calm them with my weary mind.

The more relaxed I appeared, the less suspicious they would be of me. If I acted scared and shifty, they would watch me more closely.

I hoped that if I seemed calm and levelheaded, they would lower their guard, giving me the best chance to escape.

Ignoring my emotional outburst, Patrick continued. “As it stands now, you have information that could jeopardize the safety of our pack.”

I rolled my eyes and gestured at Patrick before asking, “Like what, the shirt size of your guard?”

Hearing this, Jeremy crossed his arms and said, “You owe me a shirt.” He must have found his pants in the bushes where I left them.

Patrick cleared his throat to get my attention. Turning my head back to him, I noticed a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Information like how to break in and out of our holding facility.” Shit.

The twinkle in his eyes brightened as he realized he had me cornered. “You could easily share that information with other rogues, and they could use it against us.”

He had a point. He also had very lax security. I doubted the rogues would need my help breaking in or out of the place. If I could do it, so could they.

Groaning, I clasped my hands together and sent a silent prayer for patience to whoever might be listening.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know any rogues?

“Besides, if that was my plan, don’t you think I would have already done that, gone there? Why would I come back here?”

The light in Patrick’s eyes dimmed slightly. Why would I come home if I had somewhere else to go? Especially since I must have known they knew where I lived.

I could see he realized that. If I was planning to do harm with the information I had, I would have already done it.

“You will still be coming with us,” Patrick said lightly.

“You guys are going to a lot of trouble to avoid changing a security code,” I mused.

Zach and the Home Destroyer laughed. At least someone found this amusing.

Biting my lip, I looked at the men around me. Their heads seemed to tilt in the direction of one another from time to time.

I was convinced that, somehow, they were communicating with each other. After my recent exchange with Patrick, each had grown more tense.

It was odd to me that they took the time to talk to me, instead of just shoving me in some back-alley van.

From the corner of my eye, I watched as Jeremy tried to walk past me into the kitchen.

Grabbing my fork, I turned to look at him. I knew their kindness had limits. Eyeing my fork, Jeremy slowly raised his hands.

“Just grabbing another brownie,” he explained.

“Please let me get that for you,” I said, offering a small smile. I didn’t want him behind me. I had a better chance of fighting my way out of this if I wasn’t surrounded.

Cutting him another brownie, I placed it onto the plate he was holding. Giving him a pointed look, I watched his slow retreat back to the living room.

“What will you do with me?” I asked Patrick, buying more time.

I needed to figure out a way out of this. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to come up with a single idea.

“We will keep you at our facility until we have finished gathering information on you. The alpha will decide what will happen after that.”

My body trembled. “Your alpha doesn’t own me. Tell your alpha that I’m not his to do whatever he wants with.”

The tension in the room thickened. I knew it was foolish to try to provoke them, but it was slightly satisfying as, at the moment, this was the only way I could fight back.

Giving me a long look, Patrick turned away from me. “Jeremy, Greg, please get the cars ready.”

The men immediately headed for the door. Jeremy gave me a reassuring smile as he passed me.

Although Patrick had never physically hurt me, I felt a lot more anxious watching Jeremy leave.

I didn’t exactly trust him, but a small part of me knew he wouldn’t hurt me unless I gave him a reason to.

Patrick then looked over at me. “Our kind attracts a lot of attention, especially when we are in groups like this.

“We are going to have to wait until the streets quiet down before we can head out. If you have anything here you need to take care of, now would be the time to do it.”

Attention? The men were all on the tall side, nicely built, and fairly attractive. I could see how them walking around in a group would turn some heads.

That, and being dressed like FBI agents didn’t help make them less conspicuous.

I glanced between Zach and Patrick, the two biggest guys in the werewolf pack, and wondered about my odds of slipping past them.

“So, I have time to grab a change of clothes?” I asked, trying to match their casual demeanor.

“Sure,” Patrick responded, starting to pace around my living room.

I shifted my gaze to Zach. If Jeremy and Greg were taking care of the vehicles, then Zach was probably the one tasked with getting me down the stairs.

Zach caught me watching him and returned my gaze. Seeing the worry in my eyes, he began to approach me slowly.

When he was within arm’s reach, I stepped back.

“I promise, no one’s going to hurt you,” Zach assured me, raising his hands in a calming gesture. His dark eyes seemed to lighten as they locked onto mine.

A shiver ran up my spine. I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t.

“I know this is tough for you, but there’s a lot you don’t know right now. Coming with us is the best thing for both of us.”

I almost laughed. “I don’t see how that’s possible.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Regardless, it’s in your best interest not to fight us,” Zach said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I sucked in a sharp breath at his touch. “I-I’d rather you didn’t touch me,” I stammered. When had he gotten so close?

I broke eye contact with him, staring at his feet to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. Had I been looking into his eyes the whole time?

When I looked back up at him, he glanced from my eyes to my cheeks, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.

I turned away from him, hiding my frustration, and walked past him towards my bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Patrick, or, um, the beta said I could pack,” I mumbled.

“Oh. Right, of course,” Zach responded, scratching the back of his neck.

I was halfway to my room when I realized he was following me. I had hoped to do this alone.

Actually, I had hoped for another chance to sneak out my window. I stopped and turned to face Zach.

Giving him a look that said he was being ridiculous, I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m pretty sure I can handle this on my own.”

“I’m well aware of what you’re capable of,” Zach replied with a mischievous grin.

I guess my reputation preceded me. Then again, they wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.

“If you need a moment alone, I can wait here,” he offered, leaning against the wall.

From his position, he could see right into my bedroom. He nodded, tapped his ears, and gave me a serious look before turning to watch Patrick pace.

Knowing super trooper would be listening, I crossed the threshold into my room.

As I headed for the closet, I was stopped by the crunch of glass under my foot.

Stepping back, I examined the glass and looked for its source. I only had to shift my gaze a few inches to see where it had come from.

There on the floor was my mother’s picture. The glass from the frame had shattered. I bent down and began to pick up the glass shards from the floor.

As I worked, I let my eyes drift over the beautiful woman in the photo. She had long honey-blonde hair and sapphire eyes.

She was freckled and had full pink lips. She was laughing in this picture, and I couldn’t get over how young she looked.

Whoever had taken the photo had clearly loved her very much. They had captured her perfectly. Or at least I imagined they had.

This thought and the picture itself presented me with a mystery. If she was so loved, then why did she die alone in the hospital?

Why was no one with her when she had me? The picture couldn’t have been taken too long before she gave birth to me.

The evidence was in the way her hands covered her growing abdomen. So where was this person, and how did she end up alone?

Pain shot through my hand and up my arm.

Something warm trickled down my hand, and looking down, I realized I had squeezed my hand so hard that the glass I was holding had cut into my palm.

“Are you ready?” a voice asked from the door. Zach.

“Ummm, yeah. Almost. I just need another second.”

Hearing footsteps behind me, I looked up to find Zach’s dark eyes examining my mother’s picture. His eyes jumped from the picture to my face and back again.

Getting up with my hand still closed, I headed for my closet, not wanting to test his patience further.

Dropping the glass into the trash bin by my dresser, I grabbed a few shirts with my good hand and tucked a couple pairs of jeans under my arm before walking them to the bed.

Taking my backpack from my back, I tried to unzip it one-handed to shove the clothes inside.

I had the bag halfway unzipped when a warm hand grabbed hold of my injured hand.

The moment the hand made contact with mine it began to tingle.

Jumping backward at the unexpected touch, I turned, my good hand balled into a fist, which I sent flying toward my assailant.

Zach caught my punch effortlessly with his free hand. Realizing who it was, I gasped and quickly pulled both hands away from him.

“Are you always this jumpy?” Zach asked, eyes still wide from the unexpected attack.

“Only after repeated abductions,” I shot back.

“This isn’t an abduction,” Zach retorted.

“You’re making me come with you. I have no choice,” I countered.

“You’re walking out on your own,” he argued.

“Because I have no other choice!” I had him.

“If it makes you feel better, I could carry you. That wouldn’t be so bad,” Zach suggested, changing the subject with a raise of his eyebrows. He smiled smugly, thinking he had won.

“For my pride, it would be.” That wiped the smug look right off his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself?” he asked me.

That caught me off guard. “Did I have to? Besides, I didn’t want to keep you guys waiting, in case you decided to drug me again or something.”

My words came out harsher than I’d intended, making me wince.

Why was I surprised? It was the truth, wasn’t it?

Zach responded with a sad shake of his head and an eye roll. He gently grabbed my injured hand and led me into the bathroom.

He flicked on the light and examined my hand. His touch sent sparks shooting up my arm.

As he bent down to inspect my palm, his lips were so close to my skin that I almost gasped.

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the metallic smell of my blood. His scent was overwhelming in the small room.

I wanted to rest my head on his chest and let him wrap his arms around me.

I shook my head to clear it of thoughts of him touching me and focused on my hand instead. The glass had cut across my palm.

Zach rinsed the cut in the sink.

I hissed as the water hit the open wound, and he gave me an apologetic look before turning off the faucet.

Now that it was clean, I could see the cut wasn’t as deep as I’d thought.

“Do you have any bandages?” he asked.

“Under the sink,” I said.

He pulled them out and set them on the counter, then turned to me with a mischievous look. Before I knew what was happening, he lifted me onto the counter.

The warmth of his hands on my waist and the tingling sensation of his touch made me gasp.

He laughed softly when he saw my face.

“Why…”

He looked at me, and I stopped mid-sentence. What was I going to say? Why do you make me tingle? I bit my lip and looked away.

“Yes?” Zach asked, his eyes on my face.

“Why is it that when we t-touch…” I tried again, looking at our joined hands.

He gave me a strange look, like I should know something I didn’t.

“Never mind,” I said, deciding it was better not to ask.

I stared at my hand while he bandaged it, my face probably a deep shade of red. When he was done, he lifted my chin so I was looking at him.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked softly.

Without waiting for an answer, he leaned down and kissed the center of my hand.

He held my hand in both of his, still looking into my eyes. I looked away, my cheeks burning.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I coughed to cover the sound. It was a clear sign of my attraction to him, which was completely inappropriate.

He helped me off the counter and was about to say something when his eyes glazed over.

He closed his mouth and nodded toward the door.

“It seems we’re ready to go.” He tucked my hair behind my ears.

Ignoring the urge to scold him for his boldness, I asked, “How do you know?”

He gave me a small smile, and I thought I saw a hint of pity in his eyes. “You really don’t know much about us,” he said, more of a statement than a question.

Before I could respond, he pulled me closer. His scent was all around me, and I weakly tried to turn away.

He tightened his arm around my waist. His presence was almost hypnotic.

He lifted my chin to look into my eyes again. My knees felt weak, and alarm bells rang in my head. He was too close.

I put my hands on his forearms and tried to push him away, but I was no match for his strength. Was I even trying?

He stroked my cheek with his thumb, giving me a sad look before his hand moved to the back of my neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Then a sharp pain shot down my neck, and everything went black.