More than a Phoenix

by Ashlyn Chase

  A small kitchen fire was one thing, but if it spread upward, it could spell disaster. Even though the chef said he’d snuffed it out, Captain Merrick wouldn’t take any chances. Just because people couldn’t see the flame anymore didn’t mean it was out. Fire could hide in the walls only to erupt later.

  A woman wearing a bathrobe approached. “Please check the whole building,” she said timidly. Her young husband or boyfriend kicked at the curb, hands in his jeans pockets.

  The captain eyed her. “Which floor do you live on?”

  “Six,” she said.

  “Fierro and O’Rourke, check the floors above the restaurant. Pay close attention to six.”

  “Yes, sir,” Noah said. He grabbed the irons in case they needed to pry open a locked door with the halligan bar or hack their way through a wall with the ax. The two of them passed the last of the descending residents on the stairwell as they ascended.

  The hallway of the second floor seemed deserted, and all was quiet. There was no smoke. They walked along, placing their bare hands against the walls, looking for a change in temperature.

  “Nothin’,” said O’Rourke as they reached the end.

  “Same here. On to the next floor,” Noah said.

  It was slow and repetitious, but being thorough now could prevent a disaster later. Walking up twenty-eight floors would tire out a human, but shifters had paranormal stamina. As that thought drifted through his head, Kizzy’s face reappeared…thrown back in ecstasy. Not now, dammit. Pay attention, Fierro.

  “What do you think you’re going to do about that girl?” O’Rourke asked as they reached the sixth floor and repeated their inspection.

  Noah groaned. He was about to say he didn’t know, but then his hand met a spike in warmth. “Whoa. I think I have something.” He pounded on the door. “Boston Fire Department!” When there was no answer, he tried the knob. Locked. He used the halligan tool and pried open the door. Smoke drifted through the entry. “Radio the captain!”

  O’Rourke reported they had found smoke in a residence on the sixth floor. The captain said he was standing by. They traced the source of the smoke to a small, unfinished room in the condo.

  Noah came upon what looked like a bathroom renovation and flames in the pipe shaft. “Shit. Another amateur plumber.”

  “Captain. We have fire in a bathroom. Looks like they were soldering pipes in here. Some insulation may have caught and spread up the shaft.”

  The captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “Try and hold it until I can get you a line up there.”

  Noah began hacking down the wall to expose what was burning. Flames licked up the wall to the ceiling and beyond.

  O’Rourke had “the can” with him, a two-and-a-half-gallon water-filled fire extinguisher. He had to use his precious water sparingly, yet they blasted water up the pipe shaft as far as it could reach. More sirens screamed in the background. It wasn’t unusual to call in a second alarm if a high rise was involved. Noah was glad more help was on the way, even though he dearly hoped it wouldn’t be needed.

  The small room was filled with steam and smoke. Even though the smog was dissipating, it was hard to see what might still need attention on the higher floors. Noah wished he could send O’Rourke on an errand, shift, and fly up the shaft. Not gonna happen. Ten guys were probably on their way up.

  “Let’s take a look. There’s only a little water left in the can,” Noah said.

  O’Rourke let up on the trigger. Getting as close to the pipe as he could, Noah faced upward and scanned the darkness for a telltale flickering yellow-orange flame. He saw nothing but black. “I think we got it,” he said triumphantly.

  O’Rourke whooped. “Thank God. This could have been a mutha.”

  “I know, right?” He patted O’Rourke on the back.

  “It’s out, Captain,” Noah announced into the radio.

  “No, it ain’t,” the captain answered bluntly. “I’m looking at the reflection of flickering light far above you. If it’s not an orange lava lamp, it’s fire.”

  “Shit,” Noah muttered. He poked his head back into the shaft and looked skyward again. Way, way up, he saw a tiny flicker of yellow. “Fucker. I missed it.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Fierro,” O’Rourke said. “Captain? Where do you want us?”

  “Wherever the fire is.” He didn’t say the word dumbass, but it was implied.

  Noah rolled his eyes. “We’re on it.”

  They charged up the next several flights of stairs, checking the area above the seat of the fire carefully. O’Rourke kept the captain updated over the radio until they finally felt a hot wall on the thirteenth floor.

  “Give me the halligan,” O’Rourke said.

  What? Am I incompetent now? Noah wondered, but ignored his friend and attacked the door instead. It splintered as he popped it open. Smoke poured out.

  “Fire on thirteen,” O’Rourke reported.

  The captain called loud enough for the guys on the ground to hear, “We’ll set up a command center on seven.”

  Noah felt like shit for missing the fire that had spread up the shaft. It was his own inner paranormal being angry with himself. He had superior vision. That kind of mistake could happen to any firefighter, but not to his father, not to his brothers. And it shouldn’t have happened to him. “I feel like an idiot.”

  “You can feel later. Right now, we have a fire to put out.”

  Hours later, the blaze was extinguished. Noah, sooty and tired, trudged down the long stairwell to the street. The guys had to be rotated about every ten to fifteen minutes due to the heat and long upward climb taking its toll, but he insisted on staying put as long as the captain would let him.

  Dante appeared at his side.

  “Hey, Bro. You were in there a long time.”

  Noah glared at him. “Yeah. And where were you?”

  “I took my turn along with everyone else. You were so intent on the fire, you didn’t even see me. I didn’t think you wanted to stop and chat.”

  Noah’s anger dissipated. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I took this one personally. I thought it was out. Even told the captain as much. The whole time, he was looking at flames in the windows above us.”

  “Shit. That’s embarrassing.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Hey. It’s out now. Nobody died. I don’t think anyone was even injured.”

  “Yeah. We were lucky.”

  The captain overheard them. “Luck has nothing to do with it, Fierro. It’s out because we were here, putting it out.”

  Noah felt a little better. Firefighters knew when they could bust each other’s chops, but they also knew when not to. Sometimes they needed to hear what they were doing right. It was damned important they remember how vital a role they played in the community. Morale had a way of disintegrating fast if a firefighter felt he’d failed. But he hadn’t. The captain was right. He hadn’t started the fire—he’d put the fire out.

  * * *

  Sunday dinner at the Fierros was a mandatory event—or it might as well have been. Each son had the same schedule, so whenever they all had a Sunday off, they came home to the South End brownstone where they had all grown up. Mama Fierro expected nothing less, and if her expectations didn’t bring them home, her good cooking would.

  Gathered around the enormous dining room table were the parents of this rowdy bunch, Antonio and Gabriella, their sons and significant others: Ryan and Chloe, Miguel and Sandra, Jayce and Kristine, Gabe and Misty with baby Tony, and finally the three remaining single sons, Dante, Noah, and Luca, who complained that they needed a larger table—again.

  Gabriella Fierro, also known as Ma, Mom, and Grandma, gazed around the table with a wistful expression on her face.

  “What?” Dante asked her.

  The family members around the table glanced between him an
d his mother.

  Gabriella smiled at her fifth son. “You’ve always been the perceptive one, haven’t you? It’s like you know what I’m thinking.”

  “You just looked like something was floating through your brain. If I knew what it was, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

  She chuckled. “Okay. I was just thinking about how lucky I am as a mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother. How proud I am of all of you.”

  “Oh. That’s nice,” he said. “Can we eat now?”

  Gabriella rolled her eyes. “And the moment is gone. Yes, you can eat.”

  The steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese was passed in one direction while a basket of garlic bread was passed the other way. Veggies followed the bread, and salad followed the spaghetti. Each male family member used tongs to pile their plates high. The females ate a little less greedily but enjoyed the rich Italian food just the same.

  “So, what’s new?” Antonio asked after he’d swallowed his first bite. “Anything exciting happening to any of you?”

  The dozen children and in-laws glanced at each other, but no one spoke up. That meant either everybody was waiting for someone else to start, or all the mouths around the table were full. Either way, the unusual silence demanded to be filled.

  “Noah almost burned down Federal Street,” Dante said.

  Forks froze halfway to his brothers’ mouths.

  “I did not. Don’t listen to him,” Noah protested.

  Dante laughed. “Okay. I exaggerated a little, but he did miss a fire in the walls, and it sprang up again.”

  “Shit. How did you do that?” asked Jayce, now a Boston Fire Department captain.

  “I didn’t! Well, I did, but not on purpose. Jeez.”

  “That could happen to anybody,” said Antonio, the patriarch and a retired captain himself. “Not usually to one of my sons though. You didn’t smell smoke or see flames anywhere? Didn’t feel the heat? Didn’t your paranormal senses let you know something was wrong?”

  “Oh, he felt the heat, all right,” Dante answered for him, smirking. “I think that’s why he was distracted. Noah’s got a girl on his mind.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Dante. Will you just shut up already?” Noah clenched his fists, wishing he could punch his troublemaking brother.

  Gabriella perked up. “A girl? Oh, Noah, that’s wonderful. Tell us all about her.”

  “Not gonna happen. Besides, it’s dead in the water. I asked her out and she said no.”

  Gabriella sat up straight, which was hard to detect since she was a meager five feet three. “Why would anyone turn down my tall, dark, handsome, and intelligent son?”

  “Maybe she has classy taste in men.”

  “Dante Ralph Fierro! Your brother needs your support right now, not your insults.”

  “Sorry, Ma.”

  Noah was glad someone chewed Dante out, since he couldn’t punch him. At least not here.

  Noah sighed. “Look, I was planning to talk to Misty after dinner about what I might have done wrong, if anything.”

  “Me?” Misty asked. “Why? Is she a friend of mine?”

  “No. It’s no one you know. I just thought you might be the best one to ask. You’re probably the most normal young woman here.”

  “Excuse me?” echoed three female voices.

  “No. Not normal. Just…well, she’s the one who has dated the most normally—I think.”

  “You’re not making it better,” Sandra said.

  “Sorry, Sandra. You and Miguel were high school sweethearts, so you never dated other people at all.” He rounded on Kristine and Chloe. “And you two are dragons. I’m not sure how that made your dating experiences different, but I’m sure it did.”

  “You got that right,” Kristine said. “If Jayce hadn’t had paranormal hearing, he’d never have discovered my secret.”

  Jayce leaned back as if he’d been slapped. “Never? You wouldn’t have trusted me enough to tell me at some point?”

  “That’s not what I meant. In the early stages, I wouldn’t have told you—and not only that, it’s a miracle we made it to the later stages, since I refused to date fellow firefighters.”

  “I never heard that part,” Gabriella said. “I thought it was the long distance you objected to.”

  “We had a lot of strikes against us,” Jayce said. “But I’m glad we overcame them.” He leaned toward Kristine, who gave him a peck on the lips.

  “So, what’s wrong with askin’ me, Noah?” Chloe interjected with her lilting Irish accent.

  “Ha!” Ryan exclaimed. “You’re the worst one to ask. You had a chip on your shoulder the size of the Prudential Building, and it took me months to knock it off. And then there’s the interesting fact that you’re actual dragon royalty.”

  “Sure’n you don’t mind livin’ in a castle, luv.”

  “Okay, okay,” Gabriella spoke up. “Whoever can help Noah with his dating question, please just do it. The only thing I want in this world is for all of my sons to be happy.”

  “And you know what that means,” Antonio said. “If you’re not married, you’re not happy. And if you’re not happy, Momma isn’t happy, and when Momma’s not happy…”

  “Then nobody’s happy,” several voices chorused around the table.

  “It can wait,” Noah said.

  “Don’t put it off,” Luca, the youngest, said. “Ask her now. This is the most entertainment I’ve had since spring break. Besides, I might need to know what to do with a normal girl too.”

  “My dating life is not entertainment,” Noah stated a little louder than he should have.

  “Darling! Calm down,” Gabriella said.

  “Whatever you say.” Luca smirked and took a big bite of garlic bread.

  “All that garlic will help attract the ladies.” Noah smirked at Luca.

  “At least it will keep vampires away.”

  Gabriella slapped her hands over her ears. “Do not talk about vampires! I know they exist, but you stay away from them. All of you!”

  “And therein lies the predicament of dating a Fierro,” Antonio said. “Finding a mortal who’s open-minded enough to accept the supernatural—and our powers, double-edged as they may be—is rare. I’m glad four of you managed to do it. If Noah needs help…”

  “I do not need help!”

  Antonio gave him “the look.” The one that said he was the patriarch, not to be interrupted or questioned.

  “Sorry, Dad. It’s just that none of you know the story. And I don’t want to get into it.”

  “You’re right,” Antonio said. “It’s your business, and maybe we should all butt out.”

  “Thank you.”

  “All except Misty,” his mother said hopefully. “He actually asked for her help.”

  “I just said I was thinking about it. I’m changing my mind now.”

  Misty’s brows raised. “Why? Are you worried I might tell everyone? I won’t, you know. Not even Gabe, if you don’t want me to.”

  Gabe’s forkful of spaghetti paused on the way to his mouth. “Hey, we have no secrets from each other. Right?”

  She chuckled. “Yeah…now. You kept a pretty big secret from me for a very long time. Little Tony was on his way before I knew it, and then I had to wonder what the heck I was carrying.”

  “What?” several offended male voices said at once.

  “Stop,” Gabriella said and pulled baby Tony onto her lap. “She didn’t mean it like that. And even if she did, I had the same questions when I was carrying each of you. It’s only natural.”

  “Sorry, Ma,” most of them said.

  “If only you all knew,” Antonio added, shaking his head. “Poor Misty went through hell. If you weren’t around to see the whole thing, you shouldn’t even express an opinion.”

  “Damn right,” Gabe sa
id. “I take responsibility for making the whole situation worse.”

  Misty looked up at Gabe lovingly. “We’re together, and that’s what matters.”

  All the couples squeezed each other’s hands or gave each other a peck on the lips. Noah wanted that, but could he have it with Kizzy? Or anyone, for that matter? How long could the family’s luck hold out?

  Gabe tousled his six-month-old son’s hair. “I think Misty might be the best one to hear you out, Noah. She really was as close to ‘normal’ as anyone in this room. I won’t even ask what you two discuss.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Misty, if she’s still willing,” Noah said.

  “Of course. I’m finished with dinner, and Tony seems happy. We should talk now.”

  Wiping his mouth on a dinner napkin, Noah rose from the table.

  “You can use the man cave,” Gabriella offered. “We’ll stay up here until you finish your conversation.”

  As he and Misty reached the door to the finished basement, Noah swiveled so he could see everyone still at the table. “Oh, guess what? Dante has a new girl too.” He grinned as he delivered his parting shot and turned everyone’s attention to his buttinsky brother.

  * * *

  “Thanks for throwing me under the bus like that,” Dante muttered on their way home.

  “Hey, one good dick move deserves another.” After a few uncomfortable silent minutes, Noah asked, “Was any harm done?”

  Dante remained quiet, then sighed. “No. I had to reveal basic stuff before they’d leave it alone, like Mallory’s name and how we knew each other, but not the weird parts, thank the gods.” Dante didn’t have the energy to elaborate. Instead, he turned the tables. “What did Misty say?”

  “Exactly what I thought she’d say. All the stuff about how men and women make assumptions about each other and how so many misunderstandings could be avoided if they’d only communicate openly and honestly.”

  Dante snorted. “Yeah, because Gabe is so good at that.”

  “That was her point. Gabe isn’t good at that, and apparently, it caused problems. She and Mom call him the ‘strong, silent type.’ Not a good trait, according to modern women.”