Playing With Fire

by Adrienne Woods et al.

  The dirt track took us past the centre of what was probably the village and out into the barren wilderness. Three miles on, we stopped at a small wooden cabin amid fenced paddocks. Four horses stared at us as we killed the engines and stepped off the bikes. One neighed. A warning? It sounded like it. Maybe they sensed the Wolf in Gabriel, though I had the distinct feeling that their nervousness was aimed at me, not him.

  Gabriel smiled slightly, nodded his head for me to follow him as he led the way up the two steps to the doorway. He knocked. We waited. I wanted to knock again, get inside, out from the stares of the horses. They unnerved me for some strange reason. In my animal form I hunted horses as well as other prey animals, killed them. But now they gave me goose-bumps.

  ‘Come in, Sinpoa.’ Finally, a voice from inside. It occurred to me that the occupant of the house wasn’t able to see who was at his door. There was no camera or spy hole in the door. OK, he could have recognised the big-twin, but that could have been anyone from the pack. And who was Sinpoa anyway?

  We walked through the door into a surprisingly light and bright interior. Native art and blankets adorned the walls and made a colourful impression. Baskets and pots completed the almost museum quality of the artefacts. It was stunning. I turned around to take in all that was on show here. Yet it was not staged. It was a home. A throwback to another time. History screamed at me from all sides.

  I turned back to face the man sitting in the chair opposite the door. He was completely not what I expected. My imagination had prepared me for an old man, reminiscent of the photos of Sitting Bull that I had seen on Internet; weathered with his long hair in plaits along-side his head. Maybe even with the mandatory feather at the back of his head. My surprise must have showed. Gabriel chuckled softly. I glanced at him, admonishing him with my eyes. He could have told me.

  The Shaman didn’t look much older than I did; beginning to mid-thirties. His skin was smooth and without wrinkles. The hair on either side of his long face was shorn close to the skull and the bright neon coloured mohawk was almost as surprising as the tribal tattoos on both sides of his face. He was dressed in a polo shirt that didn’t even try to hide his physique or his tattoos. This man would have been completely at home in the art district of Los Angeles. Not what I expected in the midst of a depressing Native American reservation in the desolate lands outside of Waisland.

  He smiled, breaking the stern visage that greeted me when I walked in. I don’t know if that threw me more.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said. I nodded, not sure whether he was addressing me or Gabriel. ‘You took your time.’ He stood up, surprising me yet again. The Shaman stood about eight feet tall. I had to look up to him as he approached me. OK, so it was me he was waiting for. What the hell did he mean? We just decided that we would visit him yesterday. Gabriel hadn’t called in advance, so what was he waiting for? How did he know?

  He held out his hand. ‘I am Askuwheteau. But you know that don’t you? Welcome Altermichan.’

  The hairs on my arms stood on end. The resemblance of the Shaman to Cantix was getting to me. He was tall, he knew my real name. This was getting weird. And dangerous. My first instinct was to turn and run out of the cabin. Fire up the bike and get the hell out of Dodge.

  ‘It’s good to see you again,’ he continued. Again? What the fuck?

  ‘I’ve never seen you before,’ I exclaimed, surprised at the defiance in my voice.

  He laughed. I glanced at Gabriel; he was just as astounded as I was.

  ‘We met when you were a mere babe. Three months old I believe. Your parents brought you here.’ Yeah, right, pull the other one, it’s got bells on it. This guy was nuts. My parents? My father and mother were not together when I was born. He left her. At least that was what I deduced from my mother. She’d never spoken of him directly. I had no real idea of who he was. Just what he was. That I knew.

  ‘Bullshit. You would have been a baby yourself. How would you have remembered?’ I spat back.

  ‘As you, I am older than I look. I have been around for hundreds of years. Long enough to see you as an infant.’ He was totally calm as he walked into the open kitchen and opened a cupboard under the side cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of what looked like whisky and three glasses that he set down on the table between us. ‘Drinks anyone?’

  It was early for alcohol, much too early. Despite that, I nodded. I needed a drink with all that was going on here. It was beyond strange. My instincts still screamed at me to leave. But another voice, one I recognised as my mother, urged me to stay.

  Askuwheteau poured generous amounts of the whisky into the glasses and stepped back to return to his chair. He looked comfortable. The very opposite of my demeanour. He sipped his drink and casually observed me. Gabriel stepped forward, picked up the remaining two glasses and offered me one. I took it, my eyes transfixed on the Shaman. I sniffed the drink, it smelled okay, and downed a large amount in one go. The alcohol burned my throat as it passed on to my stomach. I almost gagged at the reflux when the liquid hit my gut. Man, that was strong stuff. Again, the chuckle from Askuwheteau.

  The Shaman gestured to the seat opposite him. I hesitantly walked the two steps and lowered myself down onto the elk hide in the rattan seat. There was no seat for Gabriel. He glanced around, obviously noticing the same.

  ‘Sinpoa,’ Askuwheteau said. ‘Would you please wait outside? Altermichan and I have things we need to discuss.’ He didn’t make it seem like the dismissal that it actually was. Gabriel’s brow creased and he cocked his head in question. The Shaman didn’t offer any additional explanation. He just waited for Gabriel to leave. My lover glanced at me, I nodded. He drained the glass and stepped out of the cabin, squeezing my shoulder as he walked past.

  I sipped the whisky as we waited for the door to close.

  ‘Sinpoa?’ I asked. Easy questions first.

  ‘That’s his Blackfoot name,’ he explained. ‘He is a member of the tribe.’

  ‘He’s not full Blackfoot,’ I countered, completely on the defensive. My attitude didn’t seem to rile the Shaman. He was just as relaxed as when we arrived.

  ‘No. He isn’t.’

  ‘But neither are you.’ It wasn’t a question. Anyone who’d lived as long as he had and still looked early thirties wasn’t completely human.

  ‘Again—no. I am not. But that is of no consequence within the tribe. They accept all who are of the same disposition and mind. Ours is a tribe of like-minded. The body is just a detail.’

  ‘Even if they are Werewolves?’

  ‘Even if they are Werewolves,’ he confirmed.

  ‘I don’t know what you think you know about me?’ I continued. ‘But I have never met you before and I’m not falling for your bullshit.’ He seemed unperturbed by my aggressive attitude.

  ‘Who sent you here?’ he asked softly.

  That hurt. He’d gone right for the jugular. ‘My mother,’ I whispered.

  ‘And do you trust her?’ There was no malice in his words, just clarity.

  ‘Yes.’ My answer was barely audible.

  ‘That is why you are here,’ he continued. ‘You need answers to questions you do not dare speak out loud.’ He was reading my mind. He had to be. That, or I was really more of an open book than I thought.

  ‘Your parents were fearful for you. They were aware of the prophecy and the implications that it had for you.’

  ‘What prophecy?’ I whispered, taking another sip. The burning was reassuring. It meant that I was awake and that this was not a dream.

  ‘There is an ancient Oglala Sioux prophecy; “Darkness will descend over the tribes. The world will be out of balance. Floods, forest and earthquakes will ensue. A White Buffalo Calf Woman will purify the world. She will bring back harmony and spiritual balance.”’ He let that sink in. I couldn’t fathom what he meant. What White Buffalo Calf woman? I shrugged in frustration.

  ‘The prophecy has been interpreted in many different ways throughout the history o
f the Native American tribes,’ Askuwheteau explained. ‘One of the explanations refers to the paranormal community. The darkness is symbolical for the Council, their rule is one of darkness and violence. They kill anything that stands in their way, all to consolidate the power they have over their paranormal brethren. The Council uses the age-old divide-and-conquer tactics, pitting the factions against each other. That way they can steer the world in the way they want.’

  His words were resounding with me. The Council had sent me to Waisland to kill the leaders of the two largest paranormal groups in the USA. What had Cantix said? ‘My mission is to make sure that there are no more thoughts of rebellion and war.’ I repeated his words out loud. The Shaman nodded. The nagging feeling I’d experienced ever since my meeting with Cantix was finally becoming concrete. The mist was lifting.

  ‘There is no imminent war between the Wolves and the Sabres,’ I stated. ‘He sent me here to stop them from amassing too much power. They are a threat to him and to the Council.’ My anger fuelled my understanding. Red started to cloud my vision. I was being used. Used to keep the Council in power and consolidate their killing grip on those that I loved. I didn’t even question how the Shaman apparently knew that about my mission, or why he seemed unperturbed by the knowledge.

  ‘The Oracle never saw a war.’ My tone and volume mirrored my anger.

  ‘She did,’ Askuwheteau answered to my surprise. ‘She predicted an all-out war. Only not between the Wolves and the Sabres. There will be a war against the Council.’

  It was all beginning to fall into place.

  ‘And what is my role in all this?’ I asked. ‘Why did my mother send me to you?’ I knew the answer.

  ‘Remember the White Buffalo Calf Woman?’ he said. I nodded. ‘Don’t take that literally. It’s a metaphor for someone who will lead the people against the oppressors.’

  ‘And you think that is me?’

  ‘The White Buffalo Calf Woman is one of two worlds. Like you.’

  We spoke for another hour.

  The final pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place. The prophecy, and everything that happened to me since I took this mission, was cryptic. I’d been in the dark from day one. Unexpected and mysterious twists faced me every step I took. It frustrated me, the inconsistency, the emotions, everything.

  Now it all made complete sense.

  Chapter 37

  I walked out the door into the sunlight. Gabriel sat on the steps throwing pebbles. He refused to look at me. His visage was full of resentment—I suppose at being sent outside while I spoke with the Shaman. He was the Alpha. He answered to no one, and now he had been sent packing like a lowly Omega. That did not go down well with him. The only things that stopped him from barging in on us were his love for me and respect for Askuwheteau. It took a lot out of him. He was fuming. Yeah, well tough. There were more important things going on here than his wounded ego.

  That wasn’t fair, And I knew it. He was governed by the Wolf hierarchy and instincts. He had no say on this. It was in his genes. Plain and simple. I admired him for the way he tried to restrain his anger, and how he had conceded to the Shaman.

  I placed my hand on his arm, felt the tension in the muscles beneath the leather jacket. He raised his head just enough to look me in the eye. I could see the struggle there. Instinct against love. Against respect for me, for the Shaman.

  I smiled slightly, squeezed his arm and softened my own eyes. It worked. The muscles relaxed a little and the creases in his brow softened.

  Askuwheteau stood in the doorway. ‘Thank you Sinpoa.’ He acknowledged the battle that was raging inside the Alpha. ‘I know that was not easy for you. It was, however, necessary. This was between her and me. Altermichan will let you know, when the time is right. Trust her. She will do what is best.’

  That struck a chord with me. Just a few hours ago I was planning on killing Gabriel. I was sure that the Shaman knew this. He knew much more even than he had told me. The man who looked like a thirty-year old was ancient and had the wisdom of his long years. He would be a worthy opponent to Aquanaris.

  Now that was thought.

  And he trusted me to do the right thing. No pressure.

  I wondered whether he knew about Metisse. He must do. How? I didn’t know. My opinion of Oracles made a one-eighty. There were genuine people who could see the future, or what the future could be. This guy was legit. He convinced me. He gave me insight.

  And that made me all the more dangerous.

  * * *

  I nodded to the Shaman and turned to the bikes. I needed some time to digest all that he had told me and the conclusions that I’d made myself.

  I had to formulate a new plan.

  One with a different outcome.

  Chapter 38

  Gabriel had calmed down a bit by the time we made it back to town. He stopped outside the Fifties Diner. I’d forgotten the time and my stomach reminded me that it was way past dinner time. Gabriel obviously had the same idea. We parked the bikes outside the gaudy building that mirrored a massive aluminium Airstream caravan. We took the two steps up from the sandy driveway to the electric door of the diner. It whooshed open and invited us into the air-conditioned restaurant. Black and white tiles on the floor and Formica booths with bright red plastic benches that lined the windowed side of the building screamed the fifties. Opposite them was a long chrome bar with round stools that stood on single columns of chrome. Most were in use. Buddy Holly chimed from the original Wurlitzer Juke-box in the corner. The waitresses were young, blonde and dressed in fifties garb. It was very cliché, but the food was good.

  Franny, the owner, welcomed us and waved us towards an empty booth. Gabriel kissed her on the cheek and sat down. I took the seat opposite him. I wanted to see his face and gauge the impact that the meeting with Askuwheteau had on him, especially the last part.

  Franny brought two bottles of beer and placed them in front of us. ‘The usual?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes please.’ Gabriel was all smiles. She looked at me. I nodded. We came here enough for her to know what we liked. She left us to place our order with the two cooks who kept food flowing from the kitchen to the ever-present customers.

  ‘You going to say anything?’ I asked Gabriel.

  He looked up from the table he was studying intensely. ‘What’s there to say?’ he answered my question with one of his own. So it’s like that? Well, good with me. If he wanted to sulk, then be my guest. I thought he was above that.

  ‘Nothing I guess,’ I shrugged. If he wanted to play the silence game, then that’s what we would do. I was good at it. Years of practice had made me patient. You needed that in my line of work. If you wanted to stay alive.

  Franny brought our dinner. The scent of one-hundred-percent beef hamburgers with freshly baked bread preceded her and we both turned in anticipation of the fantastic tastes. She put the heavily laden plates in front of us, tasted the tension between us and left without her usual happy banter.

  We ate in silence.

  Finally, Gabriel pushed his empty plate away and turned his face up towards me. ‘Did you get what you came for?’ he asked. The edge was only a memory. The food, and probably the silence had mellowed him.

  ‘Yes,’ I answered, equally friendly. ‘And no.’ I finished the last bite of my hamburger and wiped my fingers on the paper serviette. ‘I don’t really know what I expected. Definitely not that he knew me. Or what he thinks that I am. It feels like I have even more questions now.’ His face was once again soft and loving. I leaned over and took his hand. As I stroked my fingers over his hard knuckles, I understood what it had cost Gabriel to go outside and not be part of what the Shaman and I shared. ‘I’m sorry you could not be part of it all,’ I said sincerely.

  ‘Askuwheteau has his reasons,’ he answered. He obviously held the strange Shaman in high regard.

  ‘I hope so.’ I continued to hold his hand. Slowly he responded, his fingers closing over mine. He leant forward, towards me. The w
armth and tingles once again prevailing between us. I let the nails on my fingers elongate and the soft stroking took on a new dimension. His eyes lit up and I could see that my ministrations were having the desired effect.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said huskily.

  ‘Now you’re talking,’ I answered in a seductive voice that immediately had an impact. I stood up from the booth and walked quickly to the door, he caught up and grabbed my butt. Never one for subtlety, he staked his claim. Our laughter followed us out the door as Gabriel called back to Franny. ‘Put it on my tab Fran.’

  ‘Sure thing, sweetness,’ we heard as I opened the door and almost fell through. ‘Have fun.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We will,’ I wanted to call back. But it was totally redundant.

  Chapter 39

  The pack easily accepted me.

  As the imprinted mate of the Alpha I was immediately one of them. There was no jealousy here. No anger at him bringing in someone who was obviously not a full-blooded Werewolf. What I actually was, they didn’t know, but it made no difference. Gabriel had staked his claim and that was good enough for them.

  I felt at home in the pack. A strange feeling for someone who had essentially been alone from childhood. I had always fended for myself and the feeling of togetherness that resounded from the pack was soothing and new. It struck a chord within me I never knew I had. The disadvantage of this feeling was that I was starting to feel lonely when I wasn’t around the pack. Not of course when I was with Metisse. He made me feel wanted and loved, as did Gabriel. But the clan was completely different from the pack. There, people were more outspoken. Less inclined to accept what the clan leader said without an explanation. I had friends there, but also enemies. In the pack, there was no reluctance to accept me. I think the pack was closer to my own disposition. The pomp and status of the Clan’s jet-set life was lost on me. The pack was just plain and simple family.