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T hump. Thump. Thump.

“Answer,” Foxx Honeywell rasped in a barely audible voice. His hand clenched around his phone when the ringing seemed to grow softer, at the same time, his heartbeat grew louder in his ears.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

“ You’ve reached —” Foxx disconnected the call when he heard the now familiar start of Charity’s voicemail.

Swallowing hard, he eyed his phone as it shook in his trembling hand before trying one of Tony’s numbers again. Foxx gripped his left knee to give his free hand something else to do other than shake.

In the driver’s seat, Harlow Blackmore remained silent. The sound of him hitting the gas pedal, the ever-growing closer emergency sirens that confirmed exactly where the explosions they'd heard many minutes ago had come from, and Foxx’s ringtone going off in between his attempts to reach anyone at the office, were the main noises being drowned out by his incessant heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump!

“Answer,” he whispered again. Foxx held back the tears that were trying to flood his eyes as the ringing went on and on.

“ I’m sorry, the —” He ended the call.

After declining another incoming call from Alastair, Foxx tried Jerry again, and then Charity, and then the office phone. But not a single one of them answered.

Thump, thump, thump !

“Answer!” he begged as he started at the beginning of his list again, calling the same numbers he had before, his hand clenching tighter around his phone.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

“ANSWER!” Foxx screamed, before whimpering in distress as voicemail picked up again.

When Harlow gripped his left hand, he glanced at the man, even as he flinched.

The gaze that met his…while Foxx couldn’t place the emotion, it was intense.

“Breathe, Foxx,” Harlow rumbled.

He gasped, drawing in a deep ragged breath on realizing he’d been holding it. As he did, the sound of his pounding heart receded. Releasing the death grip he had on his knee, Foxx flipped his hand over and grabbed onto the man’s larger one.

“Lie to me,” he rasped.

“They’re okay.”

A laugh that was half sob slipped past his lips. Foxx went to speak, but Harlow took a sharp turn, and he caught his first sight of the Houndside Hazard Hunters Guild.

His phone slipped from his hand, landing in his lap as his eyes widened. “Oh, Goddess…”

The gray rectangular building set ablaze, fire trucks and police vehicles were out in front around the packed parking lot. While at first the structure looked mostly intact, it quickly became apparent that parts of the ceiling had collapsed, and that the front entrance was completely blocked by debris. They easily drove closer, as oddly there was no road block in place yet, nor did it appear as if any of the fire department were even attempting to put the flames out. The men in uniform were standing back and just watching it burn.

“Why aren’t they putting it out?!” he cried as he threw his seatbelt off.

Slipping his phone into his belly pocket, Foxx zipped his face shield back into place, while the dhampir brought the Jeep to a screeching stop, completely ignoring the police officers who’d been instructing them to back out the minute they’d pulled into the lot .

“I don’t know,” Harlow growled as he put the Jeep into park. “But we will fucking find out.”

They jumped out, Harlow flashing his badge at the converging officers, before rushing towards the two clearly arguing men standing between the trucks and the burning building.

Another police officer attempted to block their way. “Wait, you can’t?—”

“Move!” Foxx hissed, flashing his fangs.

The human stumbled back as he shoved past him. The six-foot-tall man looked shocked to have been bowled over by someone half his size, but Foxx didn’t pay him any mind.

He barely heard the officer’s protests as the screams started to filter through his head. Foxx knew he should focus, listen in, and try to figure out who was still alive…but he couldn’t. He couldn’t seem to force his brain to do it, to search for the ones he wanted to find. Foxx didn’t want to know yet. He wasn’t ready…

Because what he did hear...it was enough. They came at him in a horrifying cacophony of pain amongst the blaring fire alarms. Screams, calls for help, voices he knew. The worst were the ones too weak to even speak. He heard them as their breathing slowed before stopping completely. Even if the names weren’t coming to him, their faces were flashing through his mind…polite interactions, smiles… None were his friends, but they all mattered.

Foxx always tried to say he didn’t care for those he hadn’t grown close to, but that wasn’t true. He, in fact, didn’t have to know someone at all in order to care, it was just that knowing them made him care too much. It was why he tried to not make friends with humans.

“What the fuck is going on, Police Chief Wicklow, Fire Chief Briggs?!” Harlow growled as they reached the two men.

Police Chief? Fire Chief? Foxx eyed the men. Who was who was pretty self-evident as each wore their respective uniforms. Wicklow was at least six-foot-tall, likely in his late fifties, appeared to be in shape, and though part of his hair had turned white, the man was clearly a redhead, with all the pale skin and freckles that went with that.

Briggs seemed to be about the same age, just as in shape, but he looked to be nearer Harlow’s height. The man's hair was all gray, and he had heavily sun-tanned skin that probably made him look much older than he was.

“Why is he dressed like a bear?” Wicklow asked, his accent light but noticeably Irish. Before there was even time to answer, the man jerked, almost in shock, as if he hadn’t meant to ask that, and waved irritably towards the fire chief, snapping, “HE is refusing to do his job!”

“He what?!” Foxx hissed, taking a threatening step towards Briggs. The tears that had been trying to break free dried the fuck up as his anger rose.

The Fire Chief’s eyes widened slightly, before his expression settled into a smug smile. “What I’m doing is following protocol. Until either Guild Director Tony Varley, or Assistant Director Liam Barlowe assures us that there are no dangerous paranormal creatures on the loose in there, waiting to attack, we will under no circumstances enter, or even go near the building.”

“THEY’RE BOTH LITERALLY INSIDE THE FUCKING BURNING BUILDING, YOU CUNT!” Foxx shrieked.

“W-what did you just call me?!” the bastard sputtered.

“Oh, right! I forgot where I’m at. Does bitch work better?! Wait, no, calling you either would be an insult to women. What you are is a useless piss baby, who wouldn’t know how to do your job, even if someone set your micro-dick on fire!”

He heard multiple people cover up snickers with a cough, but a few police officers laughed outright, Police Chief Wicklow included, as the man asked, “This the new partner, Harlow? I like him. Dresses fun too.”

Foxx, under normal circumstances, would be happy with the compliment, but people he cared about were likely burning alive, so not so much at the moment.

“Remove yourselves from the premises before I do it for you!” Briggs snapped, before sneering, “And for future reference, proper decorum at a scene is not only expected but required in order to stay. Next time, leave the clown suit and mouth at home.”

“Excus—”

“Decorum?” Harlow laughed. “Listen here, piss baby. First of all, my partner can wear and say whatever the fuck he wants, wherever he fucking wants, and whenever he fucking wants. Secondly—” The dhampir pointed towards the building. “—there is a solid fifteen fucking feet thick obsidian barrier separating the ground floor from the lower level. Which is the only reason why, when the building went boom, it didn’t set off our motherfucking stockpile of highly explosive materials, that just so happen to be sitting pretty in the arsenal underground! Because if it had, we’d be down the whole fucking Guild, and likely the block, not to mention we'd currently be staring into a giant fucking pit in the ground. And in case you don’t understand what I’m fucking saying, let me explain… The only paranormals in there that are free right now are the motherfucking hunters!”

“You can’t know for certain that there are no dangerous creatures running around in there!” Fire Chief Piss Baby snapped, as he too pointed towards the bloody burning building.

Foxx let out a harsh chuckle. “Ah, I see, you aren’t talking about criminals. You are actually saying you think the hunters in there are dangerous. I’m curious, piss baby, are you just a bigot or…are you a terrorist?” He took another threatening step towards the man, hissing, “I know where my bets are falling.”

He whistled as he approached the left side of the burning building with his hands tucked into his pockets. Made of gray brick, from the side, the Guild looked like three boxes put together; one larger, one slightly smaller, and a tiny one off the back, which he knew, from the blueprints he’d found, was only a short hallway and an emergency exit. Overall, the place was a long rectangular shape, even with the odd added structure off the back and the unevenness.

Unlike the front of the building, aside from what used to be around the entrance, along the side and back half there were windows every so often, in various sizes.

He came to a stop a few feet away from a nice sized window that sat at the back of the building, left of the exit. He knew it likely looked into an office, but as there was some sort of filter on the thick glass to prevent anyone from seeing inside, he didn’t know for sure.

Standing there, a shudder ran through him as the heat of the flames warmed his skin. The fire was calling to him, beckoning him to reach out and touch it. But on top of that non-verbal voice, he heard too many others that were very much vocal. Most he didn’t know, many were calling for help. Yet, he felt next to nothing while he listened to them scream in agony as they burned to death.

Oddly, there was, however, one voice that kept drawing his attention. The one coming from the other side of the window he was currently standing in front of. The soft, melodic pleas for help weren’t super deep, but were clearly masculine. It was like someone had taken the sounds of the ocean waves and turned them into a voice, creating the welcoming calmness he was hearing now.

It was nice, aside from the fear he heard, and strangely, it caused something inside of him to stir. Specifically, a feeling that he usually got when his urge to ‘collect’ reared up.

He stared for a moment more before finally drawing in through his mouth, calling the flames to him. He closed his eyes as the fire came willingly, swirling out the side of the building in a twirl of skin-melting heat. As the burning flames filled his lungs and began to be absorbed into his body, an exhilarating rush of endorphins surged through his every pore.

Eyes fluttered open again, he exhaled. As a stream of smoke filtered past his lips, he smiled at the no longer burning building.

“And now, we wait.”

On first stepping out of his Jeep, the sounds of the fire alarms inside the building, and the overwhelming screams and wails of the pained and dying, had quickly collected inside Harlow’s head, and became a nice, solid headache. Yet, even that had begun to dull as he became more and more detached while listening to the Fire Chief’s bullshit.

It was odd, Harlow was feeling quite homicidal, enraged in fact. A feeling most would describe as hot and rash, yet he felt nothing but cool and calm. Yep…that was him…just a calm and collected psycho.

“W-what are you accusing me of?!” Fire Chief Norman Briggs blustered.

The man’s face turned red, but there was a look in his eyes that told Harlow that Foxx likely wasn’t far off in his accusations. He just wasn’t sure which it was between bigot or terrorist. And they really didn’t have time to fucking find out.

“The ‘what’ was pretty fucking clear, Norman,” Police Chief Sean Wicklow sneered.

Harlow’s eyes slowly narrowed the longer he stared at Briggs. It would be faster to just kill him and use the equipment themselves. His men could die too if they got in their way.

“Fuck this!” Foxx snapped. “If you won’t do anything, then we will. Come on, Harlow, time for a crash course on firefighting!”

Harlow moved without thought, stepping between Foxx and Fire Chief Piss Baby, as he reached for his vampire. His body moving into the human’s space was enough to knock the fucker over.

“Don’t. Touch,” he ground out, eyeing the man like the piece of trash he was. Scoffing as the realization that Harlow wasn’t human any longer entered Briggs’ eyes, he went to follow Foxx towards the nearest fire truck, when he heard an oddly familiar sound. One he hadn’t heard in a long while.

Harlow’s gaze flicked to the Guild, his brow raising slightly as the fire went out.

“How…” Foxx rasped, the man now staring wide-eyed at the building.

“And now, we wait.” He heard the voice in the distance, and barely held back his cursing.

Fucking hell, Gavin’s ass sure picked a messy fucking time to show up! Instead of commenting, he growled, “Let’s head around back.”

Or rather, they needed to at least try the back door before risking collapsing more of the front of the building .

“My men and I will help,” Sean stated, before yelling to his people. “Jorgy, call for back up! The rest of you, come with us! Norman, you and your men stay the fuck out of the way, if they aren’t going to help. Prepare to lose your jobs after this, as I assure you, the report I’ll be submitting will leave nothing out!”

While he didn’t know Briggs well, aside from in passing, Sean was a long-time friend of Tony’s. The bastard had a lot of them…friends.

“No one will be going anywhere. The scene is under my control, you all have no authority to interfere,” Fire Chief Piss Baby growled as he jumped to his feet, which had been pretty fast for a human he knew was at least ten years older than he was.

The man tried to stand in Foxx’s way when the vampire spun back around and started to step past him, but was hilariously bumped right the fuck over as his boyfriend kept going, taking off at an inhuman speed.

“Come on!” Foxx yelled, just before he disappeared around the right edge of the building.

The police officers followed after the vampire, even though none of them could keep up. Some snickered and sneered as they ran past the downed Fire Chief.

“I said STOP!” Piss Baby screeched.

Harlow scoffed, eyeing the man as he passed, following at a slower pace. “Get in our way again and I’ll kill you.”

“That, I will be leaving out of the report,” he heard Sean sigh.

He snorted. “Just like old times. Well, try to keep up, Old Man,” Harlow growled as he sped up, only to slow to a stop when he came around the corner and found Foxx standing there with the others. The vampire was holding the arms of a clearly panicked Oceana, as if he’d just steadied her.

Having at least five inches on Foxx, Oceana Haeward’s light-blue eyes were filled with fear, and her long black hair was slightly messy. Yet, she didn’t look as if she’d just come out of a burning building. Her face was clean of soot, as was her leather jacket, blue jeans, green sweater, and boots.

“No, no,” Oceana rasped, shaking her head. “Iggy is missing! ”

“Many people are. How did you get out?!” Foxx asked. “We need a way in to help!”

“You don’t understand!” she cried, batting his hands away as she pulled from his hold. “We weren’t inside!”

“What happened, Oceana?” Harlow asked while approaching.

Her gaze flicked to him. “We arrived after the explosion. Maybe ten minutes after the fire trucks and police. We stayed back, and when they didn’t even attempt to put the flames out, Iggy and I headed around to the back door. I couldn’t get it open.

“I heard you two arrive…but we were arguing, trying to figure out what to do. Then the fire went out, and I turned my back for a second—a literal second—but it was long enough. Because when I looked again, he was just…gone!”