Chapter 4

I awoke to someone pounding on my door, pulling me from an uneasy sleep. Blurry-eyed and stiff, I pulled on a pair of clean underwear and a large t-shirt that came down to mid-thigh and stumbled down the stairs.

I could smell Aunt Gene through the door, anxiety rolling off of her as I opened up and she hurried in.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were home, though Talon and Marcus both swore you were." She was babbling, something she only did when she was incredibly worried.

"I was really tired," I hedged, gingerly taking a seat in my rocking chair so it wouldn't throw me out. "What's up?"

"You really should answer your phone occasionally and leave your ringers on," she said by way of an explanation, gesturing to my phone, which was flashing with half a dozen missed called, starting at two am. A glance at my clock showed it to be barely six, the impending sunshine already lightening the room. Two calls were from Aunt Gene, the rest from an unknown Montana number.

Quickly accessing my voicemail, I shuffled to the kitchen for a soda; it was way too early for this. All the messages said the same thing, to call my father as soon as I got the message, at the number on my caller I.D. There'd been various noises in the background that didn't sound good.

Growling and weeping were never good.

Worried now, I dialed the number; it only rang once.

"Thank the gods you're all right," my father said, his relief spiking my fear.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly; Aunt Gene moved into the kitchen so I could have some privacy. It may have been something as simple as my aunts calling to ask him about the Vampire (not that he would know) but my worry meter was saying it was something much more serious.

"We were attack during the night," he said without preamble, getting straight to the point.

"What do you mean, what happened?"

"We aren't sure yet. We haven't had time to figure anything out." He sounded exhausted and frustrated, but I could also hear sorrow. "We finally got the fires out and some power restored about an hour ago." He took a deep breath and I knew I wasn't going to like what he was going to say.

"It's bad, isn't it?" I asked anyway.

"Yeah, darlin', it's bad. We've lost three and another four are seriously injured. We also lost two humans."

I couldn't speak for a moment, shocked into full consciousness by what I was hearing. "Who?" I choked out, not sure I really wanted to know.

"Justin, Andrew and Curt are gone." The wolves. "Katharine and Teresa, too." The humans. "We called up Doc Westen when we thought it was safe and he patched up Maggie, James, Kyle and Benny. He said, with food and rest, they should pull through just fine."

Doctor Robert Westen was an older Werewolf who had been practicing medicine for at least two centuries; he knew his stuff. He'd also been one of the few wolves who hadn't resented my presence in the town.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," I told him, setting my unopened drink down as I hopped up and crossed the room, taking the stairs two at a time.

"That's not a good idea. There is too much hostility right now. I don't think I could keep them from hurting you." That last was said in a guilty whisper; he'd been unable to protect me the last time.

"They can just deal with it. They aren't exactly in any kind of shape to refuse help of any kind right now," I snapped back. I felt a moment of guilt myself for being nasty at my father, but he would understand. "I'll call you when I get there," I told him and hung up so he couldn't argue with me.

Aunt Gene came in as I was searching my closet for my duffle bag.

"How much do you know?" I asked, finally finding it and promptly upending its contents on the floor in my haste. I'd clean it up when I got back.

"Javen called me when you wouldn't answer." Javen was my father. "He told me that something had happened to the pack and he needed to talk to you." Taking a sip from her mug of tea, she took a seat on my bed.

I filled her in as I packed, shoving nice clothes in with jeans and sweaters as well as shorts and t-shirts; just because it was summer in Missouri doesn't mean it was warm in Montana and it paid to be prepared.

A thoughtful silence was left in the wake of my story, the sun shining brightly around the edges of my blackout curtains.

"What are you planning?" she asked, despite it being obvious.

"I'm going up there, to hell with what they think." I could smell my own fear and worry, rank sweat and anxiety, as I spoke. "I've got to." Finished with my clothes, I yanked on a pair of light cotton pants, my bra and a t-shirt that smelled clean. Walking down the hall to my bathroom, I ran the brush through my hair and pulled it back, put on deodorant, used the toilet and brushed my teeth before shoving my toiletries into my bag as well.

It was a sign of how upset I was that I hadn't noticed Talon until I almost ran into him, leaning against the wall outside the bathroom.

"Shit, Talon, warn a person!" I yelped, using anger to cover my unbalanced emotions; Talon was about as good as a Were for sensing emotions and even harder to distract.

I shut off the lights as he proceeded to follow me downstairs, where I noticed another bag sitting beside the door. I also noticed that Aunt Gene was gone.

Noting my gaze as I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Talon spoke.

"Genevive filled me in as she was leaving. She said she was going to call Billy and send him with you." Considering Billy was just certified to practice on his own, I wasn't very enthusiastic about bringing him into a den of wolves. But he'd also spent the last few years specializing in healing magic. Werewolves and Shifters may heal quickly and be capable of surviving horrific injuries but it took time, though not nearly as much time as a human. Having a Witch there would speed the healing process along tremendously.

"That's not a bad idea," I told him, sitting my bag down while I put on my shoes, "but why do you think you're coming?" I knew he was an excellent fighter, but still. Bringing a Demon into this situation was just asking for more violence, especially this Demon.

"How long will it take you to get there?" he asked, ignoring my statement.

"Assuming Billy can be ready within the next half-hour and no storms pop up, I can be there in about sixteen hours." I'd have to be doing eighty-five the whole way and even then that was an optimistic estimate.

"What are you going to do when you get there?"

"Whatever I can," I snapped at him, losing my patience. The predator in me wanted to move; she wanted to discover who had harmed our father's pack and tear them to bits.

The sound of tearing fabric had me looking down at my hand, where I'd just torn into my brown plaid couch cushion. I raised my hands to my face, sheathing and unsheathing my claws as my tail lashed, half-caught in my pants. I took a few deep breaths and a moment to calm down enough to revert back to fully human and think. If I was shifting without thinking about it, I was dangerously unstable.

I hadn't lost control like that in a long time. That was one of the reasons I'd joined the dojo, to learn discipline and control. When your emotions ruled you, bad things happened. Talon had known, damn him.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I told him with a sigh, scrubbing at my face roughly to help me think.

"Well, we can brainstorm on the way," Talon told me, walking over to me and extending a hand. I let him help me up, though it wasn't necessary, trying to repress my reaction to him.

I dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the urge to caress his fingers, and crossed the room to grab my cell phone and charger, my wallet, keys and pocket knife, slipping all but my charger into my pockets.

The phone rang and I saw it was Aunt Annie. "Billy's here and ready," she told me, assuming I'd know what she was talking about, which I did.

"I'll be over there in a few minutes; I'm just about done."

"Be careful while you're gone," she told me. "Come back in one piece."

I didn't make any promises before I hung up the phone; we both knew it could get ugly. Banishing the thought with a shake of my head, I looked around my house, mentally checking to see if I'd forgotten anything.

If I did, I can call my aunts or Marcus to come over and take care of it, I though, grabbing my bag and opening the door.

Marcus stood leaning against the hood of a shiny black SUV that made my poor blue Toyota look like a mangy mouse crouched next to a very large and sleek cat.

"Good morning, Marcus," I called out uncertainly as I locked my door behind Talon.

"Good morning, Miss Kinkade; going on an adventure today, are we?" he asked, coming up to the porch and grabbing my bag.

"More like a suicide mission, I fear," I said, using sarcasm to cover my uncertainty.

"Don't worry, we'll protect you," he said cheerfully as he stowed my bag in his vehicle.

"'We'? Am I missing something?" I wasn't sure if I was being extremely dense or what.

"Obviously," Marcus scowled at Talon, "someone forgot to inform you of his plans."

"Which are?"

"Why don't you get in and I'll tell you," Talon suggested.

I stayed on my porch, arms crossed and hip cocked. One thing being raised by Werewolves had instilled in me was a dislike of orders, quickly followed by another trying to manipulate or control me.

"We are wasting time, Ramirez," he called, his voice soft but carrying, saying the only thing bound to get me moving against my will.

"Fine, but I want an explanation on the way to get Billy," I told him, climbing in behind Talon. There were two sets of bench seats and I settled into the middle of the most forward seat so that I could see both men clearly. "Start talking."

"We are coming with you," Talon said from the passenger seat. "I heard a little about the situation and I think we can help. Besides," he continued, "I can get you there in about five hours." He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, "Unless you really want to drive?"

"You are a manipulative bastard," I told him, ignoring his smirk. "You know, you could have just offered the quicker route first and I wouldn't have been so stubborn."

He just continued to smirk and I rolled my eyes as we entered morning traffic. A glance at my watch showed it to be almost seven in the morning.

It was too damn early.

We picked Billy up from the shop. Helping Marcus load his four suitcases worth of supplies was entertaining and strenuous as two were heavy and lumpy, one was light-ish and solid and the last was his clothes; none of them wanted to sit together.

"Did you have to borrow Aunt Annie's luggage?" I asked as I moved my bag out of the way of the heaviest one, which was trying to squash it.

A few years ago, Aunt Annie had gone on a vacation to Europe and her luggage had taken such a beating, as well as being pillaged, that Aunt Gene had given her a new set she'd designed herself.

Not only was the luggage damn-near indestructible, it fought back. She'd bewitched them to be aggressive towards anyone attempting to open them without the key. Unfortunately, they'd grown some personality while sitting in storage.

"For a potentially hostile situation, what would you suggest?" Billy asked, thumping a wayward handle.

We finally got them settled down (okay, we tied them down) about ten minutes later, escaping with only minor scrapes and bruises, and set out once again.

Billy Camden was shorter than my five foot five self, small and fragile looking, complete with glasses, lanky dull hair and almost no muscle. Despite his small, unprepossessing appearance, he was a damn fine Witch, his magic capable of great things.

He was also, despite his looks, almost ten years older than me, about thirty-seven. Witches mature slower physically after puberty due to their longer life spans, which is why he looked to be about twenty-three.

"Billy Camden, this is Talon Ciar," I gestured lazily, "and that's Marcus doing the driving. They're my friends and neighbors. Guys, this is Billy." I waited out their murmured greetings, smiling at the slightly awkward atmosphere. I was sure they knew all about Billy, as well as every other Supernatural in town, but I was going for polite today. I knew Billy knew of them because of me, though I was fairly certain they'd never met.

I filled Billy in on where we were going and the situation as I knew it as Marcus drove, answering his questions as best I could.

About twenty minutes later, we pulled into a tiny, private airstrip and parked inside a very large hanger where a few smaller aircrafts were housed.

With Marcus and Talon leading the way, we walked back outside to where a private jet sat in lone splendor on the runway, each of us escorting a piece of possessed luggage in addition to our own bags.

"Wow," Billy commented with a whistle, "what a way to travel."

"It certainly beats driving," I said lamely. I knew Talon had money, I just hadn't realized he was filthy rich; it was a little overwhelming and intimidating.

As we hauled our things aboard, the Demons stayed outside to chit-chat with the pilots, allowing me and Billy a brief moment of privacy.