I couldn't wait for reviews this time. =) I was just so excited about this chapter. I hope you guys like cliff-hangers. Hehehehe. I know. I'm evil.



*Chapter 11*



"You're not that Haley Joel Whats-his-face, are you?" Tala looked around quickly. "If I start seeing fog for breath and you say, 'I see dead people,' I'm hauling ass out of here."

She smiled when she saw him laughing. It warmed her somehow . . . oh right, business. Remember, he hates you. "Okay, so your sis said we should pay attention to the name. 'Guardian of the sacred fire' you said, right?"

"Yeah. I have no clue what it could mean. It almost seems as if it would fit into the Wild Power mumbo jumbo, except she's too young."

"What exactly is a sacred fire?"

"There's many different versions." He leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. "Greek mythology, with Prometheus taking fire from the Gods and bringing it to the people of Mount Olympus. Christianity has something, too, I think. The one I can probably relate best is from Celtic mythology, though."

"What's that one about?" She was interested. She'd heard the Prometheus story before, but nothing about Celtic history.

"Fire was very sacred to ancient Celts. The hearth-fire was never allowed to die, except during the fire festival of Beltane, then it was ritually rekindled from the royal fire. It was the center of community activity. The sacred fire was also used for divination and druids."

Tala nodded, going excitedly at an itch on the back of her head.

"Fleas?"

"Stop with the dog jokes, jack ass. I don't like them." She stood, trying to emphasize her distaste.

He held his hands up. "Sorry. I just thought we were getting along for once and I figured it would be funny."

"Well, obviously, you don't get me. Just because you're getting along with me now doesn't mean anything. For all I know you could still be a back-stabbing twit, and cracking wolf jokes is just plain obnoxious."

He stood, meeting her stance from the other side of the counter. "Oh, now I'm obnoxious? I wish you could make up your bloody mind about me. One second you wish I cared about you, the next you hate me!"

"What did I tell you about my thoughts? Ignore them!" She was almost yelling. "And bloody? When did you become British?"

"The only possible way to not hear your thoughts would be if you quit thinking all together, which would probably be safer for all mankind. And my family came from England thank you very much. Where did your's derive from? Oh wait, let me guess. 'American Werewolf in London'? No, you're not cultured enough for that."

"Oh that's it." She dove across the counter-top, trying to reach him. He jumped back, but she managed to land on her feet gracefully. "What, afraid?"

"Bring it on, Poochy."

She felt her temper flare, and, without control, she began to shift. She reached for him again, but he moved just out of her reach. A look of shock crossed his features. Soulmate or not, he was going to pay for this.

She continued to attack while he dodged, until they had made their way into the yard behind the house. If they had neighbors, they'd be amazed to see a wolf trying to attack a man in public like this.

Finally, she managed to snap and hit something . . . his ankle. She cringed when she heard him yell in pain.

"Stop it, you two!" Vesta was standing a few feet from them. "You can't keep doing this!"

Tala turned to look at the girl. Big mistake. The foot connected to the ankle she had just released made contact with her muzzle.

She yelped, falling back. Pulling herself up, a deep growl emanated from her throat. She was beyond pissed now. With as much power as she could conjure, she leapt onto him, knocking him to the ground and the air from his lungs. Though he struggled, she had him pinned. Teeth barred, breathing heavy, she was debating between ripping out his throat or just marring his beautiful face. His face would be fun, but the throat would keep him from talking for the next few hours until it healed.

"I said stop!" The girl screamed.

Before she knew what was happening, Tala was surrounded by a ring of fire. She jumped off of Monroe, looking for a way out. Where did this come from? She glanced quickly at the girl. Her eyes were a bright red, power coming out of her soul in waves of heat.

"Oh goddess," Monroe whispered.

Tala turned to him, beginning to shift back, only to get stuck in her half-form. All annoyance flushed from her mind. All she could feel was panic . . . and dawning realization. "She's a fire-starter."

He nodded, ignoring her change. "'Guardian of the sacred fire.' It's the fire of the ancient Celts. Since she's half-hearth-woman by blood, she holds the power to control it."

"Can she stop it?" She was getting unbearably hot. "Because I have a feeling were toast in a few seconds, and not even you can outlive this."

He called out to the child. "Vesta, please calm down. We have to get out of here. Please stop it!"

The fire was gone from the girl's eyes, but now she looked desperate. "I don't know how!"

"What are we going to do?" Tala was scared. The fire was getting more intense, picking up dead leaves and brush, causing the flames to rise. She could possibly jump it, even in her current state, but Monroe . . .

"Do it." He gave her a stern look. "Get out of here."

"No, what about you? I can't let you die."

"Why not? You'd probably be better off." He turned his head, pain stretching across his face.

The fire was dangerously close now. "Because," she said, backing up, digging her back paws into the ground. "I can't bare missing the other half of my soul." With that, she bounded straight into him, shoving him as hard as he could . . .

Right into the fire.