HIRAM’S POV:
My driver pulls up to the convention center in Boulder City, parking near a tree stripped bare by winter. The air bites a little-just cold enough to remind me it’s December. The streets are quiet except for a couple of locals strolling past. “Hang around, or you can come in with me,” I say to him as I look at the building in front of us.
Above the entrance, a banner hangs: BOULDER CITY ART FESTIVAL 2024.
I step out of my car, making my way towards the entrance. The moment I step inside, the chill fades, replaced by the hum of life and creativity. The place is packed with people, which makes it warm. There are conversations in the air, and the bright colors catch my attention.
There are paintings, sculptures, and displays exploding in every direction, filling the space. The faint strum of a live guitarist echoes through the hall, adding a soft, cozy energy to the room. It is almost perfect, but there is no Juniper. I really wish I brought her, but I know this will not be conducive for her. She is only three months pregnant, but in human terms, she is about six to seven months pregnant, and the baby has become more disturbing.
My thoughts wander, and I imagine her throwing a fit because she doesn’t like a painting, or the sound of the guitarist irritating her. It brings a smile to my lips as I make rounds in the room.
I stop at a booth with a lot of chaotic paintings, and I stop to admire it, imagining how the artist’s soul looks, especially when he was pouring so much emotion onto the canvas.
The artist is behind the booth, with messy hair, and a hoodie smeared with paint. He talks animatedly to a small group of people about his inspirations. I stick around just long enough to catch a few sentences, then move on.
As I walk further, the air changes, and the smell of coffee and wood vanishes, replaced by something earthy hanging in the air. I know at once there is a potter nearby. I do not walk far before I spot a woman sitting at a wheel, her hands expertly shaping clay while an audience watches. There is a media team around, filming.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket, closing in on the crowd. I watch her do her work expertly, and I keep in mind to return to get something for June.
As I make my way through the crowd, I feel something in my chest. It’s like a slight ache. My mind wanders to June possibly being in trouble, but I quickly brush it off. I saw her off at school, so she should be in class.
Maybe I am thinking too much of her, I say to myself. Then I keep moving. I try to lose myself in the infectious energy in the air. In every corner I turn, there is beautiful artwork on display, and I wish I could get all, but I simply have nowhere to put it.
My phone vibrates in my pocket in that instance, pulling me from my thoughts. Quickly, I fish it out, hoping it is June calling because she misses me or she is bored. When I see Rhea’s name flash on the screen, my face creases slightly with a frown. Then my heart skips a beat as I realize something must have happened to June.
“Rhea?” I call out as soon as I pick up the call.
“Hiram!” Her voice comes out sharp and frantic. “It’s Juniper. She-she’s gone. I think-I think she’s been kidnapped!”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What? What do you mean, kidnapped? Where are you?”
“I-I don’t know exactly! We were in school. She said she was hungry, then we left school… and… this car… we had cotton candy… they took her-”
Her words aren’t coherent.
“Stay there,” I cut her off, rushing towards the exit at once. I try to stay calm in order to tackle the situation better, but I feel the ache in my chest intensify.
I burst outside, the cold air biting at my face.
My driver is waiting by the car, which is a bit of a relief as I do not have to look for him.
“We are heading back to Las Vegas now! Drive as fast as you can!” I order, getting into the car.
The car speeds out of Boulder City, but it feels like time is crawling. The driver is almost at the speed limit, and it is a miracle we haven’t been stopped by the police. My heart pounds in my chest, every second stretching unbearably long. Soon, the highway opens up, but as we near the outskirts of Vegas, we hit a wall of traffic. Red taillights stretch out for miles, and my patience snaps. I know I cannot wait in this car because Juniper is out there in danger.
I grab my phone and call Winston.
“Winston,” I say as soon as he picks up. “I need a change of clothes and a car ready for me now!”
“Understood,” Winston replies without hesitation.
I hang up, throwing open the door and bolting out of the car. The sound of horns and shouting fades as adrenaline takes over. I sprint down the highway, weaving through the stopped cars. People yell after me, but I don’t stop.
The moment I clear the gridlock, I let my wolf take over. My body morphs in a rush, with my bones snapping and my muscles expanding. In seconds, I’m on all fours, and my wolf takes over, tearing through the streets as I make it into Vegas.
The city explodes into chaos. Screams echo as people scramble out of the way. Cars swerve and screech to a halt, their drivers staring in disbelief. I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in a massive glass window.
A digital billboard overhead flashes to life, with a live feed of me sprinting through the streets, but I do not care. I know I am violating the rules of the American government, but I couldn’t care less. Juniper is out there, and I won’t stop-not for anything.