Smoke & Chaos

Flames crash down on me as I drop into a crouch, throwing up my hands to shield my face.

"Rowe!" Haut's shout cuts through the roar of the fire.

Tris's voice joins the shouts, filled with terror.

I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the pain of being burned alive. But instead of agony, a prickly heat coats my body, reminding me of limbs waking up from sleep. Painful, but not skin charring.

I crack open one eye, and to my astonishment, the flames hover before me like a tidal wave, waiting for the perfect moment to crash down and consume everything in their path.

Heart pounding, I reach out a hand in the direction that I pushed Aspen, and Tris seizes my outstretched fingers, blue sparks swarming into my protective bubble that keeps the flames and the worst of the heat at bay.

His grip tightens, and he yanks me out of the inferno. We tumble to the floor together as the fiery tidal wave crashes down to fill the pocket of safety where I had cowered.

"Move your asses!" Haut barks, dragging us toward the exit by the backs of our shirts and out into the center of the compound.

We land on the dirt in a tangled heap next to Aspen, who still clutches my wand as he bends over, coughing up smoke. Soot mars his face, tears leaving streaks of pale skin in their wake. The slender grimoire lies beside him, spread open and the pages bent, but still intact.

Rising onto my hands and knees, I look back at the meeting hall. Black clouds billow out from every window and door, and flames dance toward the sky.

Around us, werewolves burst from the woods, Griffen at their lead, their eyes wide with panic.

"Call the fire department!" Griffen runs for the nearest hose. "Contain the blaze!"

"Wait!" I wrench myself free from Haut's grip. "The Rothaven grimoire! It's still in the turret!"

"Rowe, no!" Haut shouts as I make a move to sprint back into the burning building.

But he's too fast, his wolf shifter reflexes grabbing me before I take a single step, tackling me back to the ground.

"The moon madness charm!" I claw against his hold. "I found the spell! We need it for Owen!"

"Rowe, listen to me!" Haut wraps his arms and legs around my body, containing my struggles. "It's not worth your life. Owen wouldn't want it if it meant putting yourself in danger."

Tears flow down my cheeks as I sag in defeat.

More werewolves grab hoses to put out the flames. They work together, a well-oiled machine, but the flames won't be quelled.

"Dammit." Hopelessness sweeps over me as Griffen gives up on stopping the meeting hall from burning.

Instead, they direct their spray to the nearby rooftops, dousing them with water to prevent any floating embers from catching and extinguishing the small fires that start.

In the distance, the wail of sirens fills the air, but the fire truck won't arrive fast enough.

"Hey." Haut brushes the tears from my cheeks as the flames engulf the turret. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

"How? Generations of witches couldn't do it." I tear my gaze away, unable to watch the fire consume our last hope for Owen. "And what if that grimoire was our only chance of recreating the barrier? All these werewolves, who've never experienced moon madness… What will happen to them?"

"There's still hope." He pushes the hood of my bunny sweatshirt down. "We have something those generations of witches didn't."

Sniffling, I look up at him. "What's that?"

He hugs me tight. "One incredibly stubborn, resourceful witch who never gives up."

"I do, though." My eyes threaten to spill over again. "Plenty of giving up in my history."

"No." He shakes his head. "I think your noodle brain is messing with you, because I've never once seen you give up. Not when it counts. Not even fire was strong enough to snuff out your determination to survive."

"Bunny sweatshirt for the win." I look toward Aspen, who now sits upright, his injured leg sticking out in front of him. "You owe Mel an apology for calling it childish. Her spell just saved my life."

"No, it didn't." He uncurls his tight grip on my wand and holds it out. "That spell stops high-impact projectiles, not fire. That was all you."

"Impossible." My hand shakes as I take the wand from him and slip it back into its sheath. "I'm not an elemental witch."

"You found the ethereal. Trial by fire." He grimaces. "Never do that again."

"No problem. I now hate fire more than oceans." I turn to Tris, who sits nearby, staring at the flames. "Thanks for pulling me out, sparky."

His golden-brown eyes shift to me. "Thank you for being alive to be pulled out."

As if the words released whatever self-control held him back, he crawls over and burrows under Haut's arm to hug me.

My sweatshirt muffles his broken whisper. "I want to go home."

I mash my cheek against his smoke-scented hair. "Yeah, me, too.

Aspen grabs the grimoire and inches over, not cuddling, but close. "I'm glad you came to look for me when you did. A few minutes more, and we both would have died."

My gaze returns to the burning building. "At least I did one thing right."

His eyes lift to the turret. "You broke the lock on the Rothaven book?"

"Yep. A fat lot of good it did." Anger sizzles through me as I gesture. "The ancient grimoire is now ashes, along with my personal spell book."

"Did you see anyone when you came downstairs?" he asks.

"The front door was already locked from the outside, and the fire was blazing." I return my attention to him. "Did you hear anything?"

"No, I was…resting my eyes when the smoke woke me." He runs a hand through his soot-darkened hair. "I ascertained the source of the poison, though, before my untimely nap."

Tris lifts his head. "What did you discover?"

"It was hemlock."

I straighten with alarm. "Something an earth witch would use?"

"Or anyone with forestry knowledge. It grows wild pretty much everywhere." He shrugs. "The discovery doesn't absolve any of our suspects."

Haut's bow furrows. "Wouldn't a witch make a potion or something to make sure the attempt was successful?"

"Same with the poisoning of the forest," I add. "And a witch wouldn't have needed Aris's reverse moon madness charm."

"No, they wouldn't." Aspen contemplates the fire. "I'd bet money that an investigation will prove that this blaze was set with something like a Molotov cocktail. Basic, but efficient in getting the job done."

"There's also the fact that our primary witch suspects were all locked up when the fire started." I lean back against Haut. "It's impossible for any of them to have been behind this. Ugh, how am I going to tell Aris that I let her ancestral grimoire burn up? And right after I found the moon madness charm and everything."

Aspen's head turns. "You found it? But you don't speak German."

"That's what the internet is for." I pat my pockets for my phone and hold it out to him. "This is all that's left."

He opens my pictures, thumbing through them. "A lot of these titles are ones I saw in the other Rothaven grimoires. In your grimoires back home, too, Rowe, which makes sense?—"

He freezes before turning the screen toward me. "This is what you were coming to show me?"

My eyes cross to focus, and I nod. "Yeah, that's the one."

"This isn't a charm…" He shakes his head. "Well, it could be used as one, if applied correctly…

He pinches his fingers on the screen and spreads them to zoom in.

All at once, he bolts to his feet, then stumbles with a pained cry when his injured leg protests.

Tris extricates himself from our pile and rises to offer him a shoulder to lean on. "You better not have popped those stitches."

"That doesn't matter right now." He limps through the chaos toward the pack house. "I know why no one could figure out the barrier."

Haut and I scramble off the dirt to follow.

"What did you discover?" I demand.

"We were thinking too small. It's not just one spell, it's three, one on top of the other." Aspen waves my phone at me. "I need to reference Aris's other grimoires."

"Haut!" Griffen yells, trying to put out a new fire, while Levi beats out more flames with a blanket. "We need more hands!"

When Haut hesitates, I nudge him. "Go. We can't let the whole compound burn down."

His thumb sweeps over my cheek and comes away dark with soot. Bending, he brushes a kiss over my lips before he turns and runs over to help.

A thick haze fills the air as we continue forward through the chaos. When we near the Alpha's cabin, my nose wrinkles and my face scrunches with disgust at the stench coming from its direction, like an unholy mix of mouthwash and burnt herbs.

I glance at Aspen and Tris from the corner of my eye. "Ugh, do you guys smell that?"

Aspen and Tris look at me with confusion.

"The smoke destroyed my sense of smell," Aspen admits, his handsome features twisted with pain.

"No… Wait, the potion!" Eyes wide, Tris turns toward the cabin, bringing Aspen along with him. "I left it on the stovetop!"

Aspen pales. "We shouldn't leave that unguarded. Whoever started this fire wants us to fail in fixing the barrier, and if the brew is ruined, it will be another setback."

"Shit." Tris drags Aspen along as he heads for the porch. "We need to?—"

"Go speak to Aris." I step in front of them and hold up my hands. "I can go oversee the stinky brew."

"You shouldn't be alone." Tris's gaze flickers back to the destroyed meeting house. "Especially now."

A shiver goes down my spine. None of us should be alone, but two things need to happen right now, and there are only three of us.

Before I can figure out a way to be in two places at once, a familiar werewolf jogs up to us.

"Hey, are you guys hurt?" Jacob asks, his voice laced with anxiety. "Is Kaela okay?"

"Perfect timing." I latch on to his arm. "Come to the Alpha's cabin with me, and I'll tell you what's happening."

Still looking uncertain, Tris glances at Jacob and nods. "We'll be right back."

"Let's go." I lead Jacob up the porch steps and through the front door. "The good news is that Kaela, Aris, and Mina have been cleared of the poisoning charge. Aspen and Tris are going to let them out. And we uncovered a clue about fixing the barrier, so everyone's going to be fine."

"Really?" Jacob's feet scuff across the floor behind me. "You think you can pull it off?"

"Yep, so no worrying about blood thirst." I head to the kitchen, where the horrendous stench worsens, making my eyes water.

"Ugh, what's that?" Jacob asks.

"Salvation." I push through the swinging door and race toward the stockpot, worried that our noxious brew is burning.

The smell is worse than the last time, and I can't help but shudder at the thought of this goo being slathered all over my naked body for the ritual.

A wooden spoon pokes out of the top of the bubbling vat, and I test the temperature of the handle before grasping it to stir. "We need to let this simmer for twenty-four hours to reach its full potency."

"Didn't you guys say you were going home?" Jacob asks, his voice quiet.

Embarrassed that our moment of weakness was overheard, my stirring slows. "Eavesdropping is bad manners, but we won't give up that easily."

"Good to know." Jacob steps closer. "But you should have."

"Wha—" Pain blazes through my skull, and everything goes black.