1. Finding Wills

Juniper

The mercenary he sent after me got me with a silver dagger, and he stabbed me good. I run as fast as I can in my wolf form, trying not to leave a trail of blood behind me, clenching the handles of the bag that holds my Willow Sage, in my teeth a little tighter. It’s about to bucket down with rain and I thank the Goddess, as it will help to wash away my trail.

I can’t let them get to her. I can’t let Theron bring her in, not when she is this vulnerable and impressionable. He’ll brainwash her, use her just like he almost did me. If I hadn’t heard the words from his own lips, I wouldn’t have believed he was capable of it.

That he could be so manipulative to use his own child to gain him power and a position that isn’t his and that he doesn’t deserve- it nearly destroyed me when I found out. I thank the goddess he doesn’t we had a girl, we thought we were having a boy, so that will give her some protection if I can keep him away. If I hadn’t been pregnant, I would have left earlier, but because I was I had to be smart. I had to get away safely – and I thought I did – until he sent the banished wolves and mercenaries after me.

But I must have made a mistake somewhere for him to have found me and to send his scout to try to bring me back.

He almost got me too, using dagger to try to force me into his car, it was only Willow’s cry that distracted him enough for me to get free. But then he tried to grab me, his claws scraping down the left side of my face and his dagger driving deep into my side. The pain was excruciating but I managed to push him off and run, pulling the dagger free by letting it tear through me further with his grip in my hurry to get Willow away.

And now here I am, running in the dark, in the heavy rain, slowly bleeding out as I search for somewhere safe to leave her. I need somewhere they won’t think to look, somewhere she will be taken care of while I heal.

As if the Goddess answered my prayers, I see a fire station ahead – I know they’ll take abandoned babies and keep them safe – and no one in the pack will think to look for her with humans.

It’s the best choice I have.

It’s the only choice I have.

I creep up to the front entrance, careful to keep out of the light from big open garage. Moving gingerly, I find the front door and lower Willow to the ground in her bag and under the cover of the overhang. She’s fussing from the cold and wet, and she’s probably hungry, but I can’t stop to console her, I need to get away before they find me here and inadvertently find her too.

“You are my light Willow. I love you sweet girl. Be good for the humans and I will come back for you as soon as I can.” I look down at my beautiful baby girl and press my snout to her cheek, inhaling her scent of sage, white citrus and musk one more time. I lick her cheek tenderly – sending her love through our bond. It’s so hard to step away from her, but I know I must, to keep her safe.

A truck pulls into the street, its headlights flashing over me is enough of a warning to get out of sight – the last thing I need reported is sightings of a wolf in the city. I find the farthest dark vantage point to watch over her a little longer. When I see a fireman carefully lift her up and shield her from the rain with his body I finally turn and go to- I’m so distracted by the pain in my side and tearing in my heart at leaving my baby behind that I don’t see the car until it’s too late. It skids as the driver tries to brake but it’s too late. I’m flung across the road and under a bush on the side. The last thing I think about as my sight get darks, is relief at the knowledge that my Willow is safe and hidden in the fire station with humans - somewhere her Theron will never think to look for her

Conall

I’m running late to my shift; the rain has the roads on gridlock on the free as I head to the fire station. I can hardly see the car in front of me; the taillights are the only thing that lets me know they are still there as the windscreen wipers on my truck are going at the highest speed. My Captain is going to chew me out when I get in, as it’s my turn to cook for the crew they are all going to be waiting for me in the dining room – hungry and impatient.

The firehouse appears before me, one bay open and lit up, I drive around to the back lot and park quickly. Pulling on my parker, I grab my shift duffle and legging it across the lot to the open bay. As I get closer, I swear I can hear a baby crying through the rushing sound of the rain. It gets louder the closer I get to the open bay, so I don’t think that I’m imagining it and my instincts go on alert. I dump my bag just inside the door and turn to scan the front of the fire house.

Walking slowly, trying to follow the sound of crying, I see a dark object sitting just under the roof overhang near the civilian entrance. One of the bulbs over the door has gone out so it’s dark and hard to see, I think it’s a bag, but it’s definitely moving. I rush over hoping I’m not about to find what I think I am, but sure enough, as I look down at the dark bag, half protected from the rain, half soaked through I can see it’s a baby. Their little fists clenched and arms waving as their scream splinters through the harsh pounding of the rain.

I don’t hesitate, I pick them up out of the bag and cradle them close in one arm while I take the bag in my other hand. The baby wails and gurgles, using soothing sounds under my breath and covering them as best I can from the rain as I rush back to the open bay to get them somewhere warm and safe. As soon as I get inside the door, I drop the bag by mine and rush to the rec room where I know Thomas one of our Paramedics, will be.

“Thomas, I need a consult.” I holler as I burst into the room. The baby is still crying and mewling but not screaming as much. Thomas’ blond head swivels instantly as he jumps up from where he’s sitting chatting with the rest of the crew. He doesn’t think twice or ask questions just runs to get a med bag; it always amazes me how a man as big and muscly as Thomas can move as fast as he can.

The rest of the crew come over to the table where I throw a towel down and gently lower the baby on top of it. It’s only then that I see the blood soaked into the bottom of the blanket they are wrapped in.

“Oh God. Is it injured?” My Fire Captain, John, asks, running a worried hand through his dark curly hair, his grey eyes worried, as I frantically unwrap the blanket looking for any cuts or abrasions. Thomas appears beside me, putting his bag on the table and opening it ready to grab anything needed. He nudges me to the side as he takes over, his giant gloved hands checking each limb with clinical efficiency, cutting the onesie off and checking their chest, back and then cutting off the nappy and checking the rest of them. It’s a little girl and even though he’s gently with her, she does not appreciate Thomas’ care judging by the renewed pitch of her screams.

“No visible injuries, and no signs of bleeding from any orifices either. I don’t think the blood is hers, thankfully.” Thomas calls out his findings, pulling out some wipes to clean the blood from her squirming little limbs. “There are no visible signs of trauma that I can see and looking at her size and movement, I would estimate that she’s about two maybe three months old. Where did you get her Conall and where’s the mother?”

“She was left at the civilian entrance – we have a blown lightbulb there by the way – she was in a bag. I heard her crying as I was coming in. I left the bag she was in with my duffle down in bay one.” I answer as Thomas sends one of the crew to go get the bags and bring them up, taking my wet parker off and placing it over the back of a chair out of the way. John stands beside me, his arms crossed as he listens, he takes in the blood on her blanket, the blood on my parker from when I held her.

“Here, she needs to get warm.” Thomas wraps the towel around her, swaddling her up like a burrito and then hands her over to me. I take her carefully, holding her close to the warmth of my chest, I can feel she’s still cold from being wet and out in the weather. Thomas wraps a heat blanket around us and pulls out a chair for me to sit in as I try to soothe her.

“It’s ok little one, I got you, you’re going to be alright now.” I murmur. She has a shock of dark hair on the top of her mostly bald head; it throws red tones under the lights and when I look down into her perfect cherub face and wonder what happened to her mother to make her leave her alone, covered in blood. I have no doubt that wherever she is, she needs help. At least she knew to leave her here at the station, where she would be safe and receive medical care.

“We’ll need to call Missy for social services, and as soon as the rain let’s up, we will need to get her to a hospital for a full checkup. Conall you are on baby watch until then.” John says and moves to the kitchen to start the dinner I’m meant to be cooking, glancing over every few minutes as I rock her slowly trying to calm her down with hushes and soft hums.

I shift her more comfortably into the crook of my arm and she looks up at me with watery brown-green eyes, her gummy mouth open with her cries. I pull the heat blanket more firmly around her as James, one of the crew comes back in with my and the baby’s bag. He puts the baby’s bag on the table and motions his head to the side to indicate that he’s dropping mine at the bunks. Thomas starts to pull everything out of it, laying it all out on the table meticulously.

There are two baby bottles and a packet of formula that John comes over to take and prepare for her. Some extra clothes that are now wet and blood stained and will need cleaning. A chain with an extremely expensive looking sapphire ring on it, a patch with what looks like a royal crest embroidered on it, and photo with a beautiful, smiling, dark haired woman in it, holding the baby.  Thomas turns the photo over “Willow Sage, 10^th June. Must be her mother, and if this is the birth date then she’s almost 3 months.”

He hands the photo for me to look at.” It’s Willow she’s holding. She left the baby somewhere safe and with personal items which makes me think she’s planning to come back.”

John, my captain, comes over and hands me a warm bottle of baby formula to feed her. It doesn’t take much to convince Willow to eat, I barely touch the bottle teat to her mouth, and she latches right on. She must have been hungry like the rest of us.

“You know you’re a natural with her.” John comments, a single brow raised as he goes back to cooking for everyone.