Polaris Skies

Chapter 32

Yeller opened the door to the townhouse as the first rays of the sun cast hot pink and orange streaks on the low clouds. The beginning smell of decomposition wafted into his sinuses. He looked down at the doorstep as Sven rubbed against his leg. They stalled. On the doorstep lay a dead fox, its stomach slit open, and its insides pulled out. Cashia tossed Yeller into the back and took over. Sven's hackles rose as he bared his teeth. It smelled like bird.

Damn it, Nat hissed. Cashia and Sven made their way around the dead body and back to the group's townhouse. They found a repeated scene on that step. A cold pit settled in Nat's stomach. Keep Hana buried deep in Sylvi. We'll pack Cashia's clothes and have him shift. We all travel as a pack. Don't shift to human except out of sight of windows and definitely not out in the open if at all possible. He knows which one of you I am and which one Yeller is, but the rest... Damn it. I had hoped... Nat pushed the command at Sven.

Sven paused in the doorway, rather surprised. Cashia turned back to him, his ears laying flat. What do you mean, brat? Sven barred his fangs at the conversation. Cashia circled back and leaned into his shoulder. Sven walked the rest of the way into the house. Cashia closed the door and shoved a chair under the knob.

"Why the hell have you been hiding for the last month?" Sven wasn't aware he had spoken out loud. He was more than a measure of angry. Cashia spun back from his approach to the hallway and stomped back to Sven. "Sven?" he bristled, shifting.

"Brother's got some brains up here," Sven snipped his teeth.

"I thought I had chased him into a dark hole here, Sven." Cashia matched Sven's raised hackles hair for hair.

Dietrich ambled down the stairs to spot the two in what looked to be a potential knockout fight. He had watched Cashia pin Sven more than several times. "Hold!" Dietrich commanded. Sven and Cashia turned to him, both anxious and puffed to twice their usual size. Their tales had gone ridged. "You're not trying to rip each other's throats out this early in the morning, are you? You've been gone all night," Dietrich pinned them as they approached. The closer he got, the more his sense of smell informed him of death on the other side of the door. "Your host going to emerge from his isolation, Sven?" he asked as he circled the white wolf.

"Apparently, it wasn't just for the one reason I thought it was that he buried himself for a month." Sven tried to calm his nerves.

Dietrich approached the door and shifted for a second to twist the knob and see what was causing the smell. He closed the door and shifted back to his four-legged form. "Why do we have a disembowelled fox on our stoop?" he asked, still trying to suss out the anxiety that was putting his second in command and heavy hitter up in arms.

"There was one on the stoop of the house we were in this morning," Cashia provided another clue.

"Our vengeful angel," Dietrich spat. He flicked a glance between Sven and Cashia. "Nat came out, didn't he?" He sniffed at his heavy hitter and right hand commander. "Is he doing all right?" He sat down. The other two followed his lead.

"Better," Cashia answered.

"So, will our hosts be able to talk to him soon?" he pressed.

"From what he's saying, none of the hosts are going to be talking to each other for a bit," Sven explained.

"Go on," Dietrich demanded. Sven got up to pace the living room. He bit down on the curtains and yanked them to cover up the windows. Dietrich watched him with agitation, his fur standing on end. His second in command returned to the circle and sat down.

Out you go, Sven tossed Nat out, forcing the shift. Nat looked up in surprise. He hadn't been expecting it. He was used to reaching for the shift between wolf and human. He had been forcefully shifted into a wolf, but this was the first time Sven had purposefully shoved him into his human form.