Exile Empire, Exile The Second

Chapter 21 - Sorin

There was a moment in the motel room when I thought we'd bond.

It felt quick, but it wasn't quick enough. I'd only known her a short time, and yet I'd known her forever.

All of it happened in the blink of an eye and wolf perked up, wanting her desperately. Almost as much as me.

More, he growled inside.

No way, I argued. Absolutely not.

We forced our conversation out on stilted legs to avoid the building tension between us.

And then shit exploded into chaos and all we saw was demonic magic, Kairos in danger, and time stand still. I let wolf come forth just enough to draw claws and defend our mate. I was left with the body in front of me, torn in half, blood, ichor and flesh all over my hands.

"We have to be more careful," I said as I turned back towards Kairos. "We need to—"

I ended my sentence when I saw a darkness emerge from a thick, dark line behind her. A shimmering tear in the fabric of reality. It enveloped her and as she screamed in silent terror; she was pulled back and out of my grasp.

I lunged for her, trying to save her from the entity behind the apparition, but I was too late. My hand sunk through the seam, I felt the leather of her long jacket, and she was gone.

Inside my chest, wolf howled with rage and battered against my ribs, demanding I release him.

KILL. HUNT. MAIM. DESTROY!

I felt it, too. The exact same thought process. But one of us had to use logic here.

"What can we fucking do in wolf form?" I demanded back. "Think about it! Calm down and think!"

Need her! Lost her! Where is she? he continued, howling and thrashing about. Need Kairos!

"Me too, fucking hell, me too," I snapped, holding my hand to my chest to release soothing energy from my palm. It was one of the few magic spells I knew, how to calm the wolf when I needed to think straight. It was impossible to formulate a plan with him behaving like that inside. "Just breathe," I said, closing my eyes. "She needs us to use our heads."

Wolf whimpered, but went quiet. I opened my eyes again and found a young guy in a red shirt with a matching red cap standing in the destroyed doorway. He held up an insulated carrying case and had a horrified expression on his face.

"Food delivery," he squeaked, looking around, his Adam's apple working up and down as he swallowed and croaked his surprise. "You owe thirty-eight fifty-five."

I picked up my wallet, annoyed and grateful for this simple, mundane task. I opened it, pulled out two twenty dollar bills. Canadian money, it looked so fake to me. I handed them to him and said, "Thanks, keep the change."

He took the money, set the bag down on the one table that was miraculously undamaged, and unzipped it. He unloaded several white plastic take out containers filled with steaming hot, delicious smelling dishes. He looked me over one more time, turned and left. He was in complete and utter shock, or else he'd seen this kind of thing before and decided it was in his best interest to not react. The apathy of the underpaid worker, but who could blame him? What could he possibly do in this situation?

Hungry, wolf said, sniffing towards the table.

"We can wait," I told him. "She didn't eat before she was stolen. We won't eat until we find her."

Fair enough, he whined and went silent again.

I paced the room, looking around at all her things strewn about, and planned my next move. I heard a light tap at the door and looked up to find a motel employee standing there with the same look on her face that had graced the delivery driver's. "We got a noise complaint," she said, but didn't go beyond that.