Chapter Seven:
Disclaimer: I would never want to own the Mercy Thompson series! It's lovely and I wouldn't want the author to be out of the job! She's too awesome of a writer to be without Mercy and the gang :)
So I noticed over time there have been people that have put my story on story alert, a fist for me, which lead to the conclusion that people who read the Mercy Thompson series are way more open about Samuel with a OC than with anything else. Though it would spur me to write faster if people left a small review or a big review whatever floats your boat. So I hope you like this next chapter of LTL
Everything around her was on fire. Beams fell down over her crashing to the ground preventing her from going into the next room. Smoke burned Isabelle's lungs as she frantically looked around the remains of a mansion like home for an exit.
It had to be there, whatever she was looking for it had to be in that room. Isabelle had to find a way into that room before the building collapsed and everything was destroyed including what was in that room.
Through the thunder of the fire Isabelle heard soft voices, praying, chanting, no, Isabelle's eyes widen in fear as she recognized the whisper of a death spell being casted. She was going to die in a burning building and be crossed off as some unfortunate human that was unlucky to be in the inferno. She felt it coming she felt them coming.
Isabelle shot up eyes wide gasping before coughing. Samuel woke up then sat up as Isabelle continued to hack up a lung. "Easy," Samuel muttered, gently rubbing her back, "try to take a deep breath."
Finally the coughing storm passed leaving Isabelle with a head ach and chills. "I'll go get you some water," Samuel said, moving to get out of the bed, Isabelle nodded and wrapped her arms around her body hopping that the shivering would go away before her mate came back.
The dream felt so real. Isabelle still had the sharp smell of smoke in her nose that burned to the point her eyes started to water. She could still feel the fire liking her skin and clothes. The fear, she pulled her knees closer to her body hopping that, by pulling herself in, the dream would release its iron grip.
Samuel walked back into the room with a glass of water and saw Isabelle in a ball shivering, his wolf growled angrily, their mate was afraid of something and whatever woke her up was the problem. He set the glass down on his side of the bed and pulled her to him.
Isabelle's cold body was suddenly wrapped in warmth from Samuel's body and their mate bond, soothing her terror, comforting her and her wolf. She leaned into his embrace breathing in musk and male. Samuel slowly moved till he was lying on his back and Isabelle tucked into his side, humming a song Samuel trailed his hand up and down Isabelle's bare arm rubbing away the goosebumps.
"There was fire," Isabelle muttered, her voice raspy, "everything was burning, and I couldn't find a way out, no, I was looking for something but I couldn't find it."
Samuel sat up and handed Isabelle the cup he grabbed earlier. She took a sip before drowning the liquid. "This doesn't make sense." Isabelle muttered, looking into the cup.
"Dreams don't make sense most of the time," Samuel said, hoping that the reasoning would sooth whatever worries she had left.
"Most of them," Isabelle said, looking up "but this was a vision Sam, I felt everything, the need to find that object the heat of the flames and the whispering…"
"What whispering?" Samuel asked, sitting up straighter so he could see Isabelle clearer.
"The chanting…I heard it over the flames, it was a death spell, a powerful one, the only way to get a spell strong is if you use the pain of a creature or a Coven works together for a common cause. Sam," Isabelle looked at Samuel "that spell had my name in it, someone wants me dead."
Suddenly the doorbell rang; both wolves looked at the time and saw that it was one in the morning. Samuel climbed out of the bed as the bell was replaced with slamming. "Are they trying to wake up the entire neighborhood?" Samuel asked, as Isabelle got up and followed her mate down the stairs of their home in Kennewick, Washington.
"Isabelle?" a frightened voice whispered behind the door. "Isabelle, por favor, abra la puerta."*
"Jocelyn?" Isabelle asked, walking closer to the door.
"Sí, sí soy yo, por favor, te ruego que abra la puerta,"* the voice whispered, Isabelle opened the door as a dark skinned woman flew past her and closed the door. Taking a deep breath the woman looked up at Isabelle with a tear streaked face, "Por favor, ayúdame,"* the woman's pale green eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Isabelle caught the woman before she could hit her head on the hard wood floor then looked up at Samuel.
(Page Break)
Isabelle and Mercy were relaxing in the kitchen, it was late afternoon and both women were covered with grease and oil stains. "So who is the mysterious guest that arrived late last night?" Mercy asked, after taking a sip of her glass of homemade strawberry lemonade.
"Jocelyn Garcia, she's a friend of mine from when I was witch," Isabelle answered, taking a bite of a triple chocolate chip cookie that she, Mercy and Jesse made yesterday. "And she also informed me whenever a coven did anything."
"So she was an informant?" Mercy asked, glancing to the closed door that leads down to the basement where Isabelle and Samuel placed their unconscious guest.
Isabelle nodded while she rubbed her eyes, "when I went down to check on her this morning I finally smelled were on her, I still can't tell if it's her or if she's sleeping with one." She stood up and walked towards the sink and pulled off her dirty shirt and placed it in the sink, followed by her socks and pants. Mercy shook her head at the younger woman's antics but waited as Isabelle went up to her room to put on cleaner clothes and bring down Mercy's spare clothes that she kept at Samuel's home.
Not long after, Mercy heard sock covered feet thump down the stairs. Isabelle emerged from the hallway and placed a pair of jeans and a blue tank top on the counter and sat down while Mercy stripped and re-dressed. "You know as of last night, it's been a year since I was turned into a werewolf?" Isabelle said, looking into her glass.
Mercy didn't say anything but placed a comforting hand on Isabelle's shoulder. She at least had some freedom since Mercy was a coyote, but to have to submit when you have been free to do whatever you wanted, within limits, then have your entire life thrown out the window and replaced with a new, controlled life. It amazed Mercy that the younger woman wasn't killed for talking back and her challenging ways. Yet she Mercy was glad that Isabelle was Samuel's mate, from what she heard, Isabelle caused him and Charles plenty of headaches.
Kinda short but this is a filler chapter that I needed to place to get the next chapter rolling so please bear with me. With only a week left of my freedom I'm rushing around trying to get everything together. Which means a bunch of calls and socializing, at which the present time, I would rather sit in front of the computer and write. But I hope you enjoy this short chapter.
*Isabelle, please open the door
*Yes, yes it's me, please, I beg you open the door
*Please, help me
