Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

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Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1 Page 56

by Zoe Chant


  Chapter 14

  “Rory,” Seven said hesitantly at dinner one evening. “May I ask for your opinion on something? Your honest opinion?”

  The griffin shifter glanced up from buttering a bread roll. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “Does Joe…” Seven searched for the right words. “Does he generally have good ideas?”

  Rory’s knife paused in mid-air. “We are talking about the man who’s currently attempting to balance a bottle of hot sauce on his nose, right?”

  Across the mess hall, Joe was indeed doing exactly that, egged on by a crowd of firefighters from B and C squads. It seemed to be some kind of bet.

  “Pay up, Joe,” Tanner, the boss of B squad, called. Edith and Blaise were nearby, laughing along with the rest. “You’ll never do it.”

  “No, wait.” Joe crouched low, tipping his head back as far as he could. “I got this, bro. Just watch.”

  Seven winced at the thump of the bottle bouncing off Joe’s forehead yet again.

  “I don’t mean about things like that,” she said to Rory. “Not when he’s playing around. Out on the line, in serious situations—does he come up with sensible plans?”

  “Sensible?” Rory stared at her. “Joe?”

  At Rory’s side, Wystan cleared his throat. Seven distinctly saw him elbow the griffin shifter.

  “Er.” Rory crammed a bite of bread into his mouth, clearly in order to give himself time to think. He swallowed. “That is, I wouldn’t say that planning is his greatest strength. But he has many other virtues! He’s always, uh, great at building team morale.”

  “An under-rated skill,” Wystan said brightly. “Even when things are hard, we can always count on Joe to raise a smile.”

  “Exactly. And he’s strong.” Rory flung a somewhat desperate-looking glance at Callum, who was sitting a little way off, silently working his way through a plate of stew. The pegasus shifter twitched as though he’d been poked with a pin. “And determined.”

  “Loyal,” Callum volunteered. It was the first word Seven had heard him speak since the previous morning.

  “Right.” Rory looked grateful for the input. “We can always depend on Joe to have our backs, no matter what. Even if sometimes we want to shove a sock down his throat.”

  Wystan elbowed Rory again.

  Seven could almost see the telepathic messages flying through the air. “Are you three colluding to try to come up with compliments about Joe?”

  “What? No,” Rory said, extremely unconvincingly. “Definitely not. Just being honest, like you asked.”

  A slight flush stained Wystan’s sharp cheekbones. “It’s occurred to us that perhaps, over the course of the past week, you might have come to some mistaken conclusions about him. Based on our…affectionate banter.”

  “Yesterday you told him that he should grow headfirst in the ground like a turnip,” Seven felt compelled to point out.

  Wystan coughed. “Yes. Well. In my defense, he’d been singing ‘Baby Shark’ under his breath for fifty-eight solid minutes. Even a saint would have been driven to strong language.”

  “You have to bear in mind, we’ve known each other all our lives,” Rory said. He gestured between the three men. “Brothers always tease each other mercilessly, right? It just shows that we love each other.”

  Callum set down his glass, hard enough to make water slosh onto the table. He stood up, his eyes even colder than usual. “Not always.”

  He stalked away, abandoning his half-eaten food. Seven stared after him, then turned back to the others.

  “Did I offend him somehow?” she asked.

  “No, that was me.” Rory grimaced, rubbing his forehead. “I wasn’t thinking. I forget that not everyone gets on with his brothers as well as I do with my own twin. But that’s Cal’s story to tell if he wants to, not mine. Anyway, what we mean is, don’t take the way we rib Joe seriously. He’s honestly a great guy. Anyone should be proud to be his ma—uh.”

  “Friend,” Wystan jumped in, not quite quickly enough. “His friend.”

  Seven looked at them. They both abruptly became intently interested in their meal trays, avoiding her eyes.

  She dropped her head into her palms. “Has everyone worked it out?”

  “Er. Yes,” Wystan said apologetically. “It became somewhat obvious around day two of training. Sorry.”

  “We’ve been trying not to say anything because you both seemed to want to keep it a secret.” Rory leaned his elbows on the table, lowering his voice—not that it was necessary, given that Joe’s antics had everyone else’s full attention. “But whatever is going on between you two, the rest of us are starting to get worried.”

  “Forgive the impertinence, but we couldn’t hold our tongues any longer,” Wystan said. “Seven, no matter how aggravated we get with him sometimes, he is a good man. He may seem your complete opposite, but I have no doubt that fate matched you two up for a reason.”

  Across the room, Blaise flipped the hot sauce bottle into the air. Fenrir caught it neatly on his nose, balancing on his hind legs. The hellhound’s copper eyes rolled to look at Joe, gleaming with satisfaction.

  “Woof,” Fenrir said, to general cheers.

  “Face it, Joe,” Blaise said, grinning. “You’ve lost. Kiss your bacon this week goodbye.”

  “I’m not giving up yet.” Joe plucked the hot sauce bottle from Fenrir’s nose. “Let me have one more try.”

  Rory’s voice was a deep, gentle rumble. “He would make you happy, Seven.”

  “I know,” she said softly. Longing caught in her throat, sharp as a fishhook. “And I want to make him happy too. But it’s not that simple.”

  He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. He clowned around for his friends…and not one of them knew why he screamed every night.

  Five nights in a row now, she’d wakened to the sound of his agonized voice, shouting her name in sea dragon language. She’d listened, fists clenched, staring into the dark while he screamed. As helpless to save him from his vision as he was helpless to save her in his vision.

  He was still seeing her die. Every night. Again and again.

  She forced herself to look away from Joe, turning back to Rory and Wystan. “Joe and I do want to be together. But we have no choice but to wait.”

  “That may not be wise,” Wystan said. “I don’t wish to alarm you, but it isn’t natural for a shifter to take things slowly when they meet their mate. In fact, it can be both psychologically and physically unhealthy. The mating instinct sets off a powerful cascade of hormones.”

  Oh, she was only too aware of that. “I appreciate your concern. And I assure you, we have a plan.”

  Rory and Wystan looked at each other.

  “A…Joe plan?” Rory said, cautiously.

  She fidgeted with her fork. “Yes. Which was why I was asking…but never mind. I have faith that he knows what he’s doing. And in any event, it’s not my place to question the Crown Prince of Atlantis.”

  “Maybe, but it is definitely your place to yell at your mate when he’s being dumb.” Rory quirked an eyebrow. “If you need some tips on that, I’m sure Edith would be happy to help. Ask her sometime.”

  “Or Candice.” Wystan’s expression went soft and fond. “She is marvelous at yelling.”

  Having met Wystan’s strong-willed mate a few days ago, Seven could believe it. “I will…bear that in mind.”

  “Seriously, do.” Rory blew out his breath. “Look, Seven. We just don’t want to see you two making the same mistakes that we did. I hope Joe’s plan doesn’t involve waiting around for a demonic attack to force the two of you together. I can tell you, it’s considerably less romantic than it sounds.”

  Seven had just taken a bite of stew. She choked. “Have you been talking to Joe?”

  From the puzzled glances the two men exchanged, they hadn’t. “We’ve tried,” Rory said. “But whatever’s going on, he really doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “For a man of many word
s, he’s remarkably good at saying nothing,” Wystan agreed. “Seven, please, will you tell us what’s troubling you? We only want to help.”

  It was tempting. More than tempting. Over the past week of training, she’d come to fully appreciate the tight-knit strength of the squad. They weren’t just colleagues, or even friends. They were family.

  And they were inviting her to step into that circle. She longed for that, almost as much as she longed for her mate.

  She looked down at her congealing stew. “I am sorry. You have all been so kind to me, and I truly wish that I could repay that with honesty. But it is not my secret to tell. If Joe will not speak of it, I cannot either.”

  Rory sighed. “Okay. Well, we’ll keep working on him. But if you change your mind and want to talk, just let us know.”

  “HA!” Across the room, Joe straightened, eyes crossed and arms out-flung triumphantly. The hot sauce bottle balanced, cap down, on the end of his nose. “Behold, my bros! I retain my bacon!”

  “What in dog’s name is going on here?” Buck cut through the crowd, scowling. He shoved Joe’s shoulder, sending the bottle clattering to the ground. “Are you a hotshot or a motherloving performing seal? All of you, get your butts on benches. I’ve got an announcement.”

  The group broke up, hotshots all scattering to their seats. Joe plunked himself down next to Seven, still beaming from ear to ear. He winked at her, and stole Callum’s slice of peach pie as the pegasus shifter also returned to his place.

  Buck jumped up onto a bench at the front of the room. “All right, you lot, listen up. Play time’s over. We’ve got our first callout of the season.”

  A chill went down Seven’s spine as general whoops and cheers filled the air. She glanced sidelong at Joe. The smile had slid off his face. Under the table, his hand found hers, gripping tight.

  “It’s a nice local one, too,” Buck continued. “Well, relatively speaking. It’s in-state at least, though only barely. A forest fire’s been called in up north, right at the border. Kootenai National Forest.”

  Seven started. Her eyes met Joe’s. They showed the same mingled relief and disappointment that she felt.

  Not Bluebrook. Not yet.

  “It’s lovely middle-of-nowhere wilderness, so I hope everyone’s got their hiking boots oiled and ready.” Buck paused, his gaze lingering on the shifters of A-squad. “Initial reports say it looks like it was started by a freak lightning strike.”

  Now it was everyone else’s turn to exchange meaningful glances. Blaise mouthed the word Thunderbird? at Buck. The Superintendent lifted one shoulder in the slightest of shrugs.

  Buck’s tone turned brisk again. “Now, there’s a local team already handling initial attack, so we don’t have to drop everything and scramble. But we’ve got orders to go in to support, so we’re rolling out first thing in the morning, four am sharp. Yes, four,” he raised his voice as a chorus of groans went up. “And you’d better pray I don’t catch any of you napping. So go get some sleep while you can. You’re going to need it.”

  Seven let out her breath as people started to get up. Much as she was anxious to get the coming confrontation at Bluebrook over and done with, it was a relief that it wasn’t going to be her first callout ever.

  “A practice wildfire,” she murmured to Joe. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t reply. He was still gripping her hand, hard. She realized he’d frozen in position, staring into her glass of water.

  Her blood turned to ice. She didn’t know whether or not to break him out of the vision. His eyes moved sightlessly, following something that only he could see. She could taste his rising distress.

  “Joe?” she whispered.

  He blinked at last. He looked up at her, his pupils black holes in his grim face.

  “We can’t go,” he said hoarsely. “Our squad. They mustn’t go. We have to find a way to keep them here.”

  Chapter 15

  “You could just tell them,” Seven said from behind him.

  Joe automatically shook his head, though she couldn’t see the gesture. He kept his flashlight trained on the trickle of engine coolant draining from the radiator. “Buck wouldn’t believe me. He’d think it was some kind of joke, or just me trying to get out of hard work. As far as he’s concerned, I’m a lazy idiot. To be fair, he’s not wrong.”

  “You are neither of those things.”

  “Says the woman who had to literally hit me over the head to stop me from running away from the best thing that ever happened to me. And trust me, I would much rather be sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere with you right now than under this truck.” The steady flow of coolant had slowed to a drip. “I think we’re nearly there. Just a few more minutes. We still good?”

  “No sign that we’ve been noticed.” A slight hint of strain in Seven’s voice betrayed her anxiety. “All the lights are still dark in the cabins. But Joe, you should tell the truth to our friends. They’ll believe you, even if Buck won’t.”

  “Which would just put them between the devil and the deep blue sea. I can’t ask the squad to go up against Buck just on my word.”

  Seven’s tone sharpened. “That is not the real reason, and you know it.”

  He really couldn’t hide anything from her. “Seven, I can’t risk it. Rory, Blaise, and Wystan are all really close to their families. Rory’s dad is literally a walking lie detector, and he’s best friends with my dad. It would only be a matter of time before everyone in Atlantis found out.”

  “And would that be so bad?”

  “Well, for a start, I doubt the Sea Council would be keen on a precious Prince-Seer spending his summers running into forest fires.”

  “Perhaps not. But the Pearl Empress has the final word. You’re the Crown Prince, Joe. You’re her son. Nothing could make you more precious to her. Yet here you are, putting your life at risk. Do you truly think your talent would change that? Make her lock you up in the Imperial treasure vault?”

  The slow drip of the coolant echoed in the silence.

  “No,” he admitted at last.

  Seven’s voice softened. “Joe. I know you don’t want your talent to be the only part of you that people see. But right now people aren’t seeing you, the real you. Just the glitter and sparkle of the surface.”

  “I am glittery and sparkly.”

  She nudged him in the side with the toe of her boot. “Yes. But that is not all you are. I wish you wouldn’t hide that.”

  “I don’t have to hide it from you. That’s enough for me.” Joe slid out from underneath the crew transport. “There, that should do it. This baby won’t be going anywhere for a while now.”

  Seven drew in a breath through her mouth, tasting the air. “The entire area is covered our scent. And Fenrir’s nose is as sensitive as mine. Like it or not, our friends will realize that we were responsible for this.”

  “No, they won’t.” He bent to pull out the drip tray he’d used to catch the coolant, dabbling his gloved fingers in the oily green liquid. He waved his hand at Seven “How does this stuff smell to you?”

  Seven wrinkled her nose. “Terrible.”

  “Perfect.” Joe flicked coolant around the vehicle, making sure to liberally douse the area where he’d been lying. “Is that enough to cover our tracks?”

  Seven tested the air again, and nodded, grudgingly. She held out the empty bottle that they’d brought so he could pour the remaining coolant into it. “I still think you should tell them the truth.”

  “I know.” He screwed the cap on. “Come on, let’s get out of here before our luck runs out.”

  They headed back toward their cabin, Seven automatically falling into step a little behind him. In Atlantis, he’d always hated being followed about by the ever-present royal guard, but it was different with Seven. Her quiet, watchful presence at his back was comforting.

  They snuck through the silent base like guilty teenagers after curfew. Once they were safely back in their cabin, Joe went to dispose of t
he coolant.

  Seven hovered in the bathroom doorway as he poured the oily liquid down the toilet. “Is that safe?”

  “According to the local waste disposal authority, yep.” Joe flushed the toilet. “I checked. I didn’t want to just leave the bottle lying around. Can’t risk someone finding it tomorrow and using it to get the truck running again too quickly.”

  Seven sighed. “I just hope this buys us enough time.”

  He looked down into the swirling water.

  Wystan, his hands outstretched, a sparkling shield springing up to cover the base. Rory, rising into the air, beak open wide in a scream of challenge. And his own hands shifting into talons, scales wrapping his skin, a single thought filling his mind: Thank the sea we were here.

  The vision popped like a soap bubble. He shook himself, the remembered relief and rage fading.

  “It’s okay now,” he said. “We’ve done enough.”

  Seven blinked at him. “Did you just see the future in a toilet?”

  “I told you I can get visions anywhere.” He went to wash his hands in the sink. “Anyway, I think we’ve made it come true. It felt…thin, before, like a dream right before you wake up. It’s more real now. It’s hard to explain. You should get some rest. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Apparently.” Seven hesitated. He could see her reflection in the mirror, watching him. “Joe, you need to sleep too. Is there anything that…helps?”

  “Stops my nightmares, you mean?” He couldn’t help a huff of ironic laughter. “Oh yeah. There’s one thing. And much as I’d love to do it with you, that’s really not an option.”

  Seven’s mouth dropped open. “You mean—sex?”

  A bolt of nerves twisted his stomach. They hadn’t talked about the elephant in the room—or rather, his past—before. He’d had the impression that Seven had been trying not to think about it. He’d much rather not think about it himself…but he had to be honest with her.

  “There’s a reason for my reputation.” He turned around, forcing himself to face Seven. “I had to sleep with women to be able to sleep at all.”

 

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