The Firefighter's Mate

by Jayne Ripley

  CHAPTER NINE

  Gabriela settled herself on Nicole’s couch with a plate of roasted plantains, a bunch of celery sticks, and a jar of nutella. For liquid refreshment she had a light beer from the fridge. Not her brand, but she’d bought it because it was the kind Nicole liked. She stretched out and started up Netflix. She’d become hooked on a show about aristocratic family in Great Britain and the drama in their mansion and among all the servants.

  She took a swig of her beer, then held it up for inspection and frowned. “I can sum you up in three words,” she told the beer. “Melted yellow snow.” She turned the bottle around so she could find a list of ingredients. When it didn’t list yellow snow, she snorted with mock-disbelief. “There’s no truth in product labeling these days.”

  Too bad Nicole wasn’t here to tease about her taste in beer, and never mind that bottled melted yellow snow didn’t make much sense. It was the thought behind the insult that counted. Also, they didn’t sell Dos Equis in any convenience store within walking distance, so Gabriela was out of luck.

  She snacked and watched her show, sometimes talking to the characters on the screen or to the Internet connection when it lagged. That was a bad habit she was trying to break, because she knew it annoyed everyone who watched television with her.

  A strange, loud dragging noise sounded outside, like something sliding against the side of the house. She flinched and turned to stare wide-eyed in the direction the sound had come from—somewhere near the back door. The scraping-dragging noise stopped, followed by a thud and a clang. Something hard had scraped against the side of the house and had fallen on something else. A branch? A tool? She tried to recall if Nicole kept shovels or rakes leaning against the back of the house and couldn’t remember. Her heart was beating too fast, and adrenaline had mixed with her fear.

  Outside, the goats began to bleat.

  She turned off the television and the room was swallowed in darkness. She got up from the couch and quietly hurried to the cordless phone in the kitchen. She grabbed it and carried it with her as she moved to the kitchen window. She was surprised Nicole didn’t own a dog. She could’ve used a big German Shepherd for company right now. Or Luke. Yes, a wolf would definitely be better…

  Carefully, she peeked through the corner of the kitchen curtains. A half moon was in the sky, lighting up the backyard, but she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Two of the goats were standing in the middle of their pen, but there were no dogs or bears or anything else near them or stalking around the fences. Beyond the yard, the thick stands of evergreen trees were dark.

  There were no more noises. She double-checked all the doors. Locked. The goats had settled down again. She kept the lights off and went to each window and carefully peeked out. She couldn’t see anyone or anything lurking out there, though she did see what she suspected had made the noise. It was a bad angle, but from one of the bedroom windows she could just see the handle of a fallen shovel near the side of the house. Something had bumped it, knocking it over.

  It had probably been raccoons after the garbage. Hopefully not a bear or cougar. If she called the cops and it turned out to be the night wildlife as she suspected then she’d look like a fool. Luke was at work. She didn’t want to sound like a scared idiot by calling him over nothing. He probably couldn’t get away, or if she made him come here and then there was an emergency call, and he wasn’t there to help fight the fire… No, she wasn’t that type of person. She also quickly dismissed calling the ResCo alpha, Carlson Smith. She didn’t know him, he wasn’t her alpha, and again, if it was only hungry raccoons, she’d look like even more of an idiot.

  She waited with the cordless phone in her hand. Listening and watching. Still, there were no more noises, and the goats stayed quiet. The adrenaline that had shot through her seeped away first, followed by her edgy watchfulness, and when nothing more happened, she finally relaxed. She put the phone back on the charger and started up her show again, keeping the volume low so she could hear other sounds better.

  After eleven o’clock, she began nodding off, despite the fact she would’ve sworn she’d be awake all night after her adrenaline rush. Nicole still wasn’t home, but Gabriela wanted to wait up for her friend, so she didn’t drag herself off to bed even though she was already drifting off. There was coffee in the kitchen if she wanted to make a pot, but the thought of having to wait out a caffeine buzz this late at night discouraged her from trying. She went to the kitchen and made herself another snack. Greek yogurt with some granola on top. Then she turned up the volume a little on the TV instead, hoping the sound and the snack would help keep her awake. But soon enough she was drifting off again. At some point she fell through from consciousness to dreams without even realizing it.

  In her dream she was standing in front of a mirror and there were tears running down her cheeks. They ran from the edge of her jaw and rained to the floor. No feeling of sadness overwhelmed her, only confusion at the sight of her eyes in the reflection, which had apparently turned on the waterworks full blast. Then the dream changed and she realized she was standing in the bathroom of her rundown apartment in Philly. The walls were water-stained. More water stains discolored the ceiling, and condensation sent drips of water to patter on the chipped floor tiles. The old-fashioned claw foot tub was full of water…and it took her a moment to realize the water was literally boiling. The froth and bubbles violently churned the surface, as if something was floundering inside.

  She stepped toward the tub, afraid, but also horrified at the thought of something trapped in that water and boiling to death. When she was close to the tub, she could barely make out a dark shape thrashing beneath the surface. Then it shot out of the water right for her—a wolf with no fur, covered with horrible burns all over its body. Its blue eyes were full of pain and rage and terror.

  Gabriela woke up screaming. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was shaking. The nightmare had been too real. There was an old wives tale her mother had always told her about how dreams that involved water somehow meant a tragedy was coming.

  The television now showed the menu screen with lists of movies and was the only source of light in the room. Goosebumps broke out all over her body. She pushed herself up off the couch, wrapping her arms round herself, suddenly feeling cold. Her reaction to the dream was so strong that she began to fear she was getting sick. She wished Luke was here with her—

  The pungent odor of gasoline reached her nose and she recoiled. Her brain reeled. Had Nicole come home and maybe she’d filled her car at the station and she’d spilled some gas on her clothes? Was Luke here somewhere, maybe after doing training with the fire department and was that why she smelled gasoline? But none of that made sense. She would’ve heard them come through the door, wouldn’t she? And why hadn’t they turned any lights on? Nothing made any sense. A bad feeling darkened her mind like a shadow.

  She looked for the phone handset. It was gone. She’d had it earlier. With a dreadful sinking feeling, she realized she’d put it back on the charger in the kitchen.

  Splashing. She heard something splashing in the hallway. The stink of gasoline continued to assault her senses, so strong it made her dizzy. The fear that had followed her out of the nightmare deepened and seized her, so that for a moment she couldn’t get any of her muscles to obey. It was so dark in the house. Why hadn’t she left on any lights? She’d turned them off so she could look outside, but now she regretted it, because the light from the flatscreen only made the shadows seem darker.

  Get out of the house, she told herself calmly. Get out of the house and get help. That was an excellent idea. She managed to stand on shaky legs, and yet her feet would not move. She stood there frozen, now hearing footsteps in the back of the house, down the hall where the bedrooms were.

  Someone was definitely in here with her.

  You are a wolf, not a ’fraidy cat, you bitch! she snarled at herself, suddenly as furious as she was afraid. She was angry with herself and with the bastard
who was in here. Her mind jumped back to Luke at the barbecue and the mention of the arson.

  Get to the phone! Get a knife! Shift and attack him! Her inner scolding voice finally got her moving. Once she was moving it was easier, even though her heart pounded so hard and the blood rushed in her temples and everything felt strange as if she were still trapped in her dream.

  She darted toward the kitchen where she’d left the cordless phone. To get to the kitchen she had to pass by the hallway and she couldn’t help but glance that way.

  A dark figure crouched at the end of the hall. A light flared to life. It was a burning match. She caught a glimpse of a heavy jacket and gloves, but the figure’s face remained hidden inside a deep hood. The shadowy figure tossed the match to the ground and ran.

  For a moment Gabriela thought the flame had gone out as the match had fallen through the air. But as she started toward the phone again the house suddenly flared into bright orange-yellow light as flames raced down the hallway and climbed the walls.

  Smoke immediately began to curl along the ceiling. The flames burned across the floorboards and spilled into the family room. Gabriela gave a moaning half-scream as she darted into the kitchen and finally reached the phone. She had to get out of here, but whoever had set the fire was probably outside now too. What if he came after her before she could turn into a wolf?

  She snatched a big butcher’s knife from Nicole’s knife block on the kitchen counter. With the knife in one hand and the phone in the other, she fumbled with the backdoor knob. It was warm, almost hot, but she wrenched it open anyway.

  A wall of flames greeted her. The entire porch was on fire. Close by, both the rocking chairs and the swing burned merrily.

  She stumbled back from the wave of incredible heat. Someone was trying to kill her. The thought hadn’t completely sunk in earlier, even when she’d seen the bastard in the hallway lighting the fire. But the fact that he’d tried to cut off her escape meant he was really committed to hurting her with fire.

  That gave her the rage she needed to break through the fear that was making her slow and stupid. She sprinted to the other side of the house. The smoke was thicker now and she started coughing. She ducked lower, trying to get under the haze of smoke filling the room from the ceiling on down. She reached the window and glanced out. No one was out there. It was only the side yard that led off to the forest, maybe thirty or so feet away. She flipped the latch and lifted the window and screen before climbing out. Even the warm summer night air felt blessedly cool after the inferno inside. She half fell out of the window. She dropped the phone handset and almost stabbed herself with the knife she gripped when she hit the ground. She rolled to a crouch, grabbed up the phone again and held the knife out, peering around warily.

  A window exploded outward from a different part of the house. The night out here was so bright from the flames and the burning porch that it seemed like daylight. She scrambled halfway to the trees and crouched, trying to look everywhere at once. It took two tries to dial 911 because her hands were shaking so badly.

  “911,” a calm, detached, and professional woman’s voice answered. “What is the nature of your emergency?”

  “Fire!” she yelled. Then she tried to get a hold of herself. “A fire. My house is on fire!”

  “What is your address?”

  Gabriela stumbled through it. She knew the street and was relatively sure of the house number, but she wasn’t going around to the front to check. Not until some help arrived.

  “Is there anyone still inside the house?”

  Oh God, Nicole! “I don’t know. Maybe my friend Nicole. But I don’t think so. I don’t think she was home.”

  “OK, I have emergency services on the way. Stay with me on the line,” the 911 operator said. “What is your name?”

  “Gabriela. Gabriela Acosta. I can’t stay on the phone. I have to shift. He could be out here.”

  “Is there someone else there with you?”

  “The man who set the fire. He poured gasoline inside. Oh God. Nicole’s house. It’s all burning.” She had to move further away because the heat had grown too intense. It felt as though her skin were too tight on her body and that her clothes might burst into flame at any moment.

  There was a disturbing pause on the other end of the line. Gabriela could hear the operator furiously typing information into her computer. “Is the man still there?”

  “I don’t know.” She kept glancing around, trying to see in all directions at once. The dark line of trees had her hair standing up on the back of her neck. She felt as if someone was watching her. With all the smoke, there was no way she could scent him out. “I need to turn into a wolf. Nobody messes with a wolf,” she said, vaguely aware this might not make any sense to the other woman.

  It didn’t seem to faze the operator in the least. “Ma’am, please stay with me. If you shift, I can’t get any more information. If you’re hurt, then shifting might make it worse. Are you injured?”

  “No.” Sirens started to wail in the distance. It sounded as though a thousand emergency vehicles were on their way. That was good. That was what she wanted. Every cop and firefighter in the state of Washington here with her in the yard. But what she wanted most of all was Luke. His arms around her. His comforting presence. His protection.

  “Are you in a safe place?” the operator asked.

  “Yes,” she said, but that was a lie. What places were ever safe when someone could break into your house and set it on fire while you slept? She would never feel safe again in her life.

  “Stay with me, Gabriela,” the female 911 operator urged, keeping her voice calm and soothing. “I want to know you’re okay. Stay with me until help arrives.”

  “Okay,” she said, hating the unsteady, terrified sound of her own voice. So she crouched on the grass at the side yard, halfway between the forest and her friend’s burning house, clutching a knife in one hand and holding the phone to her ear with the other.

  She almost started to cry when the first emergency vehicles arrived. A police car raced into the yard followed closely by two fire engines and then another police cruiser. Their flashing emergency lights were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

  But she didn’t feel safe. Even now, she didn’t feel safe.

  * * *

  When the call came in, Luke had been busy at the station hanging hoses to dry. He’d jumped into his gear, same as the rest of the fire crew, quickly getting into his boots and turnout pants. Then he grabbed his jacket, helmet, gloves, and self contained breathing apparatus. The call was a structure fire—a house fire in fact. A low-grade dread pooled in him at the news of the call. This was the second house fire in less than a week.

  He caught a strange look from Julian who was driving engine number one as they all piled inside the engine’s big interior cab. His hackles immediately lifted. Something was wrong. He could sense it.

  “Confirm that address dispatch,” Julian said into the radio.

  The dispatcher rattled off a street address Luke instantly recognized. His heart seemed to stumble, miss a beat or two, then come back pounding twice as hard to make up for it.

  “That’s Nicole’s house.” Luke’s voice was colder than a Montana snowstorm. “Move it.”

  He could barely focus as Julian tore out of the fire station, sirens blaring, and raced down the street. Engine Two was right on their tail, followed by the fire chief in his red SUV with its flashing lights. It couldn’t have taken more than three or four minutes for them to reach Nicole’s house, but to Luke it seemed like an eternity. He wanted to rip the door off the fire truck and run there as a wolf, though the logical part of his brain knew that would be even slower. His wolf was ready to chew through steel to get to Nicole and Gabriela.

  How could he have left Gabriela alone? He should have known. Somehow, he should have been there to protect her. If she was hurt…

  On the way to the call, a couple of police cruisers joined them, one racing ahead and t
he other falling in behind them. He spotted an orange glow in the distance over the trees. Black smoke obscured the stars. He clenched his fists and waited, trying to will the fire engine to move faster.

  When they finally arrived, the house was a raging inferno with fire shooting up through the windows and eating away at the roof. The crew burst out of the truck and started setting up and charging hoses. Luke grabbed his breathing apparatus and a fire axe and sprinted for the front door. He was going to break it down and find his women. He wasn’t coming out of there without them.

  The front porch was on fire, as was the back. He slowed, shifting his focus to one of the windows that had already broken and was belching out black smoke. He’d started for the window when he spotted Gabriela running toward him. She was holding a phone to her ear and a butcher knife in her other hand and she looked absolutely terrified. Tears glittered on her cheeks.

  He dropped the axe and yanked his self-contained breathing apparatus away from his face. His flood of relief at seeing her alive and on her feet staggered him. For a moment he couldn’t even breathe.

  She crashed into him at almost full speed, and if he’d been smaller or out of shape she might’ve knocked them both over. As it was, he wrapped her into a fierce hug. The knife she gripped caught his attention. Seeing her armed with a knife destroyed the relief that had swept through him when he’d spotted her outside the house.

  “Oh God, Luke,” Gabriela sobbed into his heavy yellow flame-resistant jacket. “Oh God, he set the house on fire! He burned down Nicole’s house!”

  He held her back far enough to look into her eyes and spoke very slowly, not letting the fear into his voice. “Is Nicole inside?”

  “No. I don’t think so, no. She didn’t come home tonight. It was only me. I was waiting up for her.”