Wolf Tales 12 (30 page)

It was the best they could do.

Embers landed in the dry grass near Oliver and Mei’s cottage. Anton raced across the driveway and used his shovel to smother the flames.

“Stand back.” Stefan leaned over from the roof. “I’ll douse that area again. The wind’s already dried it out.”

Anton stepped out of the way while Stefan shot a steady stream of water over the dry grass. Steam hissed from the small patch that had caught fire.

A deep roar had Anton spinning where he stood. Baylor shouted something he couldn’t hear over the noise. In the glow of the fire, Anton saw Jake running toward the house with Baylor on his heels. Anton had first focused on the men, but his eyes were immediately drawn to the nightmare behind them.

The fire was crowning. Pushed higher and hotter by the growing winds, it burst through the treetops and shot straight into the night sky. Flames boiled out of the thick limbs and intense heat quickly raised the temperature of the sap inside nearby trees to explosive levels. A huge pine exploded, sending fiery pitch and burning branches into the sky. The one next to it blew, and the next.

The sound was a roaring freight train, bearing down on all of them. Unstoppable. Deadly. Racing faster than any man or wolf could hope to run.

Burning debris shot through the air, deadly fireworks lighting the night sky, falling to the ground all around Bay and Jake. Despite the water they’d poured on the dry grass, small fires sprang up everywhere, whipped immediately into frenzied whirlwinds. In front of the men, behind them, fed by the wind, swirling tornadoes, spreading more flames wherever they blew.

Anton shouted at Stefan. “Stef! Get down. Off the roof now! It’s too late. We need to get into the caves.”

Stefan threw the hose off the roof and raced for the ladder. Anton turned again and watched the two men running before a fire that chased them across the burning meadow in a horrible race they couldn’t possibly win.

Flames licked up the side of Mei and Oliver’s cottage. The heat was intense—the air filled with smoke and swirling, burning embers. There wasn’t enough air to breathe—all of it fueled the fire, burning their lungs, stinging their eyes. Anton turned his gaze away from the burning cottage as Stefan raced across the driveway and skidded to a stop at his side.

Baylor was almost to the house when Jake cried out and stumbled forward. He fell, screaming, hit in the back by a burning branch, blown from one of the exploding trees.

Baylor spun around and raced back across the burning grass to help him. Anton and Stef ran full-tilt across the meadow, sidestepping the dozens of small fires that grew even as they leapt over and around them—fires that flared up and spread, all pushed by the wind toward the beautiful house that had stood in this perfect meadow for so many years.

Anton couldn’t think of his home. He focused only on the man screaming in pain, rolling in the grass, frantically trying to dislodge the burning pitch from his back.

Bay reached Jake first and ripped the shirt off him, cursing and beating the flames out with his hands. Burned flesh tore away with the fabric, but Jake’s screams had stopped. He lurched to his hands and knees and then, with Bay’s help, he stood. He stumbled slightly, swaying for a moment from shock and pain. His eyes were glazed, his legs unsteady, but he still managed to move forward.

Anton and Stef reached the two of them as yet another huge pine burst into flames. More debris fell like fiery rain around them. Holding Jake’s arms, practically carrying him through the inferno, they reached the main house.

Oliver and Adam flung open the door as Bay, Stef, and Anton ran up the wide front stairs, holding Jake. Oliver and Mei’s cottage was fully engulfed, lighting the night like a torch. Flames licked the walls of the main house, burning hot just outside the kitchen.

They had to pass through the kitchen to access the caverns.

“We were just coming to get you. We don’t have much time if we expect to make it to the caves.” Adam stepped aside so Anton and the others could get Jake through the door. “How is he?”

“Badly burned,” Anton said. “I think he’s going into shock.” When they reached the kitchen, Baylor took up Anton’s hold on Jake, and Anton stepped aside.

Oliver held the door to the cellar open. Flames boiled in a seething storm just outside the kitchen window, and smoke made it difficult to breathe. The generator-powered lights flickered and went out, but the shed was probably in flames by now and light from the fire illuminated the room. Heat in the kitchen was already growing unbearable, though the roar of the fire seemed muted here inside the walls.

At least for now. Anton moved out of the way as Adam leaned over and grabbed Jake’s legs. Baylor carefully held Jake’s upper body, avoiding the burned and blackened skin on his back and shoulders. The two of them could get him into the cavern faster this way. Jake moaned, barely conscious. Oliver went on ahead, opening doors as Bay and Adam carefully carried Jake down the stairs to safety.

Anton glanced at Stefan. Soot covered his face and there were tears in his eyes. “Stef? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

A window somewhere in the house exploded. Smoke was getting thicker, filling the once-bright kitchen, but the light wasn’t from moonlight or the sun or the emergency lights—it was the angry red of fire boiling just outside the windows.

“It’s gone, Anton. Your home will be gone by morning.”

Anton shifted his eyes away from the pain in Stefan’s. His gaze fell on the refrigerator, on the colorful drawings made by so many of the children—drawings carefully taped to the smooth stainless steel finish.

At first, those wonderful childish drawings filled him with pain, at the thought they would soon be nothing more than ash. Then a calming sense of acceptance washed over him.

All his priorities clicked perfectly into place.

There was nothing they could do. The house was going to burn. The pictures would burn.... He raised his head and smiled at Stefan. The children were safe. What else mattered?

He clapped a hand on Stefan’s shoulder. “It’s just a house, Stef. Wood and glass and steel. All replaceable. You, my friend, are not. Now get your skinny ass down those stairs before I have to carry you myself.”

Stefan gave him a crooked grin, turned, and headed down the stairs. Anton paused on the top step for a moment and stared once more around the kitchen where he’d shared so many wonderful times with people he loved. For some reason, he thought of that morning with Eve when she’d left Adam and gone in search of herself. Instead, she’d found Mei Chen. Oliver had found love. Eve had gone on to become their goddess.

Flames burst through the kitchen window. Anton stared at the fire licking up the kitchen wall. It appeared this fire was too much, even for a Goddess.

A piece of the ceiling fell and landed on the kitchen table. The same table where he’d sat one morning and shared coffee with Igmutaka—a man he’d known only as a cougar until then. Thank the Goddess Ig and Sunny were safe.

Fire ran up the walls and the freight train roar grew louder. Anton shut the kitchen door and ran quickly down the wide stone staircase leading to the cellar. Stefan waited for him, holding the heavy metal door at the bottom of the stairs.

At Keisha’s insistence, Anton had installed an expensive fireproof door between the kitchen and the cellar, something he’d teased her about at the time.

Was that woman ever wrong about anything?

Stefan carefully shut the door and led him through the cellar to the far side where a tunnel led to the caverns beyond. He slid the cabinet aside that hid the entrance to the caves.

Anton stopped as a muffled
whump
shook the small room. “Sounds like the propane tank just blew. I’ve been wondering when it would go.”

Pausing, Stef cocked his head. “Sounds like. You ready?”

Anton nodded. He turned and gazed at Stefan, looking for any sign of censure. Then he sighed and looked away, toward the heavy steel door leading to the burning kitchen. “I feel as if this is all my fault.”

Again Stef paused. “Why would you say that? When I called the dispatcher at the Forest Service to tell him we wouldn’t need rescuing, he said the fire started near the highway when some idiot pulled over to check a bad tire and tossed a cigarette in the grass. Sorry, Anton. You can’t take credit for that. It’s not your fault.”

He bit back an indignant snort. “Actually, I was thinking of that night we got together, when I told you I had a feeling there was change coming. I hope wishing something or thinking about something doesn’t make it so.”

Laughing, Stefan shoved him through the door into the tunnel and pulled the cabinet across the opening. “My friend, if that were the case, I would have first gotten laid by the time I was twelve instead of having to wait until I was sixteen.”

Anton stared at his friend, his lover, the one who always made him laugh—especially when he didn’t feel like it.

And he laughed. “Excellent point, my friend. Excellent point.”

They stepped into the main cavern, into a room of controlled chaos. A baby cried somewhere in the shadows. Pallets and mattresses for kids and grown-ups, including a couple of portable cribs for the smallest babies, filled the huge chamber. Many of the adults were still getting the older children settled, but most of the little ones already slept soundly, oblivious to the danger just overhead.

Anton paused in the doorway, stopped, and just stared.

“I know,” Stefan said.

The man always seemed to know exactly what Anton was thinking. Bemused, he turned to look at Stef.

“Did you ever imagine we’d be this prolific?” Stefan grinned at him as if they didn’t have a worry in the world.

Then he thought about what really mattered—he had Lily home. His family and packmates were safe. Stefan was beside him. Everyone who mattered, everything that counted, was all right.

“There’re twenty-five little rug rats now,” Stef added. “I counted.”

Shaking his head, Anton could only smile. The youngest and oldest were his, but that was about to change, with four of their women pregnant and one of them—Daciana—carrying twins. He was still thinking about what mattered, when Keisha found him.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest. “I was getting worried, and when they brought Jake in . . .”

“How is he?” Anton brushed her tousled hair back from her eyes. Though she’d tried to hide it, he could tell she’d been crying. “Will he be okay? Will you be okay?”

She nodded. “I’m okay. Jake . . . I don’t know. Logan’s got the equipment from the clinic set up in a smaller chamber. Come with me.” She stepped away and tugged his hand. “Stef? I’m glad you’re finally here. Xandi’s been worried sick about you. I think she finally got Alex and Amber down, but now Ariel is awake and she’s inconsolable.”

Stefan grinned and tipped a brief salute to Anton. “I thought I recognized the sound of that particular shriek.” His grin faltered. “Anton? It will all be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll make it work.”

Anton nodded as Stef headed across the huge cavern toward Xandi. Sound in here echoed. It was amazing so many children slept through the din. Keisha’s fingers closed around his forearm. “What did Stef mean, that you’ll make it work?”

Anton sighed and wrapped his arms around his beloved wife. “Mei and Oliver’s cottage is gone. The main house was almost fully engulfed by the time we came down the stairs. It will be gone by morning. I’m sorry, my love. We did every—”

“No. Damn it, Anton.” She cut him off, unaccountably angry. With him? Sometimes he didn’t know what she was thinking, this complicated, beautiful, amazing woman he’d mated and married. When she stood on her toes to kiss him, it made even less sense.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. She pressed her hand against the side of his face, the way he’d seen her comfort Lily when something had upset her, the same way she soothed their sons, calmed their infant daughter. Her house was burning to the ground and she was comforting him. Go figure.

“Can’t you see that, my love? It doesn’t matter. None of it.” She clutched both his arms and forced him to meet her unwavering gaze. “You’re what matters. The children matter. I matter. Our friends, our packmates—they’re what matter, and all of them are here, all of them safe. Adam and Logan are healing Jake’s burns as we speak. A house is just a thing. We—all of us in this room—we’re what make it a home.”

He was truly blessed. That was the only thought in his mind as he pulled Keisha into his arms and held her close. Blessed above all others, to have found the perfect woman to stand beside him, to bear his children, to be his mate.

He chuckled as an errant thought entered his mind.

Keisha leaned back and gazed at him with a quizzical lift to her brows. “What? One moment you’re almost weeping. Now you’re laughing? I’d check to see what’s going on in that convoluted mind of yours, but you’re blocking me.”

“Didn’t mean to.” He laughed out loud. “Ah, my love, I never mean to hide anything from you, but I was thinking how blessed I am to have you as my mate. And then I realized I truly am a lucky devil—there’s not another woman on the face of the earth who would put up with me.”

Keisha kissed his nose. “I agree. You’re a pain in the butt and a terrible trial and you’re damned lucky to have me.” Flashing him a saucy wink, she grabbed his hand. “Now that we have that cleared up, we need to check on Jake. Come with me.”

She tugged him along, down a tunnel that led to another chamber. This one was much smaller, though it was brightly lit by overhead lights powered by deep-cycle batteries Logan had insisted on installing a couple of years ago. Anton wondered if the solar panels that powered the lights and equipment were far enough above the tree line to avoid the fire.

No matter. The batteries had a full charge, and with any luck, the fire should burn through by morning. There were other issues of more importance—like the man stretched out beneath the glare of the overhead lights.

Jake lay on his stomach on a raised gurney with Shannon sitting on a stool near his head. She held both his hands, and it was obvious they were deeply linked. Sweat and tears rolled down Shannon’s face as she shared her mate’s pain. Lisa, Tinker, Manda, and Baylor sat off to one side with their hands linked, absorbing even more, and from the extent of Jake’s burns, the pain had to be tremendous. Adam and Logan sat on tall stools on either side of Jake, eyes closed, hands resting on unburned skin.