Master of Smoke

rendered disconcerting by the length of her teeth. “Yeah, of course you’d think so. Other people, not so much. My ex-boyfriend, Joel—he’s a bigger geek than I am. But when I said that to him, he told me that works only in comics. He said reality is more complicated.”
    David snorted. “Yes, he’s the type who would think so.”
    “Which brings me to my point.” Eva looked her reflection in the eyes. “I’m powerful. I’ve got all these teeth. I’m big. I’m strong. I’ve got claws. Being like this ... I hate this. I can’t stand this ... fear.” Her lips drew back, and a snarl rumbled from her chest. She jerked at the sound. “God, I despise being a coward.”
    He kept his voice controlled and even. “I’m growing really tired of repeating myself, Eva. You are not a coward. ”
    She curled her lip, frustration hot in her eyes. “David, I’m afraid of my own reflection!”
    “But you’re not running from it. You stand here with me, facing yourself. Fighting your fear. That’s real courage.”
    “No, that is me not wanting to look like a seven-foot chicken in front of the man I—” She broke off.
    His breath caught, but she didn’t complete the sentence. “You make a mistake in thinking fear is a weakness,” he said finally. “Fear can be turned to rage, to power, to something you can use. Look at yourself.”
    She snorted. “I’ve been looking. So far, not so good.”
    “You may be looking, but you don’t really see.”“ He pointed at her reflection. “Is that a victim, or is that a predator?”
    “It’s a predator on the outside,” Eva said dryly. “Inside, it’s a seven-foot chicken.”
    Deeply frustrated, David glowered. It was time to quit coddling her. “So you’re just going to let him win, then.”
    She blinked at his harsh tone. “Who, Warlock?”
    “No, that bastard that tried to eat you five years ago. You survived what he did ...”
    Eva snorted. “Because of magic. Otherwise I’d be dead.”
    “It doesn’t matter why you survived,” David said sharply. “It doesn’t matter that you were afraid when you faced those wolves yesterday. It doesn’t matter if you’re afraid when you face the next set of wolves. It only matters what you do. You can go on being a victim, or you can cram their laughter down their throats. You can show them you’re not a victim. You can show them your rage.”
    “But when I face them, I don’t feel rage.” She raked both hands through her mane in frustration. “I feel scared shitless.”
    “Of course you do. You’re not stupid. But you don’t have to let that fear be a weakness.” He grabbed her hand, dragged it up in front of her face, and spread her fingers to display the white curve of her talons. “Look at those claws. Do you have any idea how much damage you can do with them?”
    “Yeah, but the other werewolves have claws, too.”
    “And they may use them on you, but that doesn’t matter, because you’ll heal. Just as you healed when that bastard ate a chunk of your belly. So you don’t let the pain stop you. You hit them, and you go on hitting them until they go down. If you can’t kill them then, I will. Either way, they’ll die and you’ll live. That’s all that counts.”
    He released her hand and turned toward the door. “Change back and come on.”
    She padded after him into the bedroom. “What now?”
    “Now I teach you how to make those furry bastards bleed.”
    Warlock sat at his desk in one of the deeper chambers of his mountain lair, his head bent over a conjured book. His gold fountain pen scratched feverishly over the fine linen paper as he tried to record every detail he could recall from the Demigod’s memory. He’d been at it so long he was getting writer’s cramp.
    As much as he hated to admit it, Warlock knew there was a possibility Smoke would reclaim his memories and powers. If he lost those abilities, he could always find an alternative, but the cat knew a great many very valuable things Warlock didn’t want to forget. Which meant he needed to write them down.
    He was particularly interested in other elementals like Smoke. Not many had survived, but there was at least one. And that one might be the key to turning the tables—if his plan to kill Smoke failed.
    He grinned viciously. There truly is more than one way to skin a cat.

    Because Eva’s living room wasn’t a good place for the kind of training he had in mind, David told her to drive them to somewhere more