by Ashlyn Chase
“Now what?” Chloe asked. “Drink tea or tell fortunes?”
“I’m good enough to do both at the same time.” Morgaine winked.
Chloe took the seat nearest the pass-through. “Great! So, what have you found out?”
Morgaine leaned back and folded her arms. “Have you heard the saying, ‘Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not following you’?”
“Someone’s following me?” Chloe jumped up and rushed to the bay windows.
Morgaine reached out. “No. Oh no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anyone was literally following you. But someone is poking around your business, behind your back.”
Chloe growled. “Nobody pokes me backside without permission.”
Morgaine covered her mouth, but she was obviously trying to hide a smile. “Sorry. I just meant… Someone is interested in discrediting you. They may be digging into your background and trying to find some dirt.”
“Why? I’m not runnin’ for office. Wait.” She slapped her forehead and returned to her chair. “It’s probably the background check the fire department does on every employee.”
Morgaine frowned. “I thought you already started the job. Wouldn’t they get that done before you were officially hired?”
“Yes. Of course. Everything checked out. No felonies…yet,” she added under her breath.
Morgaine snickered, then schooled her features. “I’m not making myself clear. This is happening now. There’s deception involved.” She pointed to a card. “This card, plus my psychic warning bells going off, are sure this is not sanctioned activity.”
“In other words, I should be paranoid.”
Morgaine reached across the table and covered her hand. “Not at all. Just be aware. That’s why people go to psychics in the first place. Everyone wants to know their future—and that’s why I do what I do. It’s important. Forewarned is forearmed.”
“Another American saying?”
“Yes. Although it translates to any country.”
Chloe nodded and mulled that over. Who could be delving into her background? Her immediate thought was Ryan…her rival. But what was the point, now that they’d both been hired?
Perhaps he was trying to discredit her before and forgot to call off the private detective or whatever… “I don’t know. There was this bloke I was competing with for the job. They couldn’t decide between us, so they got more funding and we were both hired.”
Morgaine straightened and tapped a card. “Yes. It has to do with your job. See this card? Swords indicate a war of some kind and the staff indicates work. The very next card is coins. Money is closely involved.”
Chloe took a good look at the cards. The swords were stabbing some poor schmuck in the back. Shite. That poor schmuck is me!
* * *
Ryan had a small lounge in his parents’ basement. Back when there were seven boys to house it was like a dormitory. Now it was a quiet place to study. But he couldn’t keep his mind on the books.
He unfolded the picture he’d kept in his wallet for the past few years. It was from a Boston real estate magazine and included the view from floor-to-ceiling windows in a high-rise condo overlooking Boston Harbor. The picture had even gone to Afghanistan with him. His reduced rent at his parents’ house was helping him save for that condo.
The following day the trainees would be sent into their first real fire. Granted, it was in a controlled setting, but they’d have the experience of using their equipment. But all he could think about was a slender blonde battling a blaze that could take her life.
Damn it. He cared! He didn’t want to, but he had to admit it—at least to himself. Admitting it to anyone else would be probie suicide. He’d be transferred to another house before he started.
Yeah, they could run into each other again no matter where he was stationed in the city, especially if they picked up some overtime shifts. And he had to. The sooner he got out of his parents’ basement, the better. If his fellow firefighters learned he was still living at home with mommy and daddy, he’d be teased mercilessly.
There were so many Fierros in the Boston Fire Department, they’d each been given a nickname. He’d be “Momma’s Boy” for sure. He shuddered.
He wrenched his mind back to the book he was reading. He’d read it before. Hell, he’d practically cut his teeth on the binding.
It was no good. He tossed down the book and paced across the floor, raking his fingers through his hair.
What was it about her? He wanted to kiss her one minute and spank her the next.
He stopped in his tracks. Oh… A visual of her soft, round bum across his lap had him instantly hard. Yeah, like that would ever happen.
“Christ!” he sputtered out loud. “Damn, infuriating, liberated woman…”
He heard his father’s footfalls on the stairs. Quickly retaking his seat on the couch, he laid the open book over the telltale tent in his pants.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
“What were you shouting about?”
“Nothing.”
His father stood with his hands on his hips, just below the spare tire he’d been sporting since he’d retired.
“You didn’t run into Melanie, did you?”
“Huh? No. I haven’t seen her since we broke up.”
“Then there must be another infuriating woman you’re upset with.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Why did you ask me what I said if you heard me loud and clear?”
His father shrugged. “Just thought you might elaborate. That’s all.”
“Well, don’t hold your breath. I’d rather not talk about this particular situation. At least not until I can take care of it.”
The elder Fierro raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like you might need some advice.”
“Not at all. What makes you say that?”
“I know you and I know women. You don’t always think clearly when your heart is involved.”
Ryan reared back and laughed. “Not to make you feel foolish, but the only thing attracted to this chick sits way below my heart.”
“Interesting…”
He set the book on the coffee table. Clearly he wasn’t going to get any studying done until he could convince his father he wasn’t pining after some girl. “What do you mean by ‘interesting’?”
“Nothing.”
Shit. Now the old man was giving him back his own words.
“Look, I’ll figure it out. Sometimes answers present themselves, if given time.”
His father smirked. “Don’t take too much time. If you’re panting after this one, chances are other guys are too.”
Fuck. Thanks, Dad.
* * *
The training went on for several weeks, and Chloe sat in the back row—as far from Ryan as she could get. One day, he turned and frowned at her.
Waving her fingers at him, she hoped to keep him off balance. She was on to him, and with Morgaine’s warning in her mind, she wanted to keep her distance.
The instructor sketched out the fine points of the fires they were to face that day. He stressed that the second job that afternoon would be kept purposely short and vague. Dispatchers would give out all the information they had, but with only a passerby reporting, the first crew on the scene would be going in with precious few details.
Their first fire was to mimic an apartment building with an explosion reported on the third floor.
As soon as they’d suited up, Chloe bumped Ryan with her elbow and said, “First one to the elevator is a boiled egg.”
He laughed. “I think you mean ‘rotten egg.’”
She shrugged. “Rotten or not, if an egg survives the fire, it’s gonna boil.”
The captain gave the order to enter the structure, and Ryan grabbed an ax a
nd took off. His long legs carried him through the door first, but she was right on his heels. He was first on the stairs too.
Dammit. She had hoped by planting the word “elevator” in his mind he’d try to use it. That was stupid. Yeah, he might make a rookie mistake, but not that one. She’d have to figure out something else later. Right now she had a fire to fight.
They encountered a number of locked doors. Chloe pounded on them and yelled, “Fire department. Everybody out!” A few opened and fellow firefighters representing civilians rushed out. She pointed out the safest exit, and the captain nodded his approval.
Some doors, however, remained shut and Ryan pounded harder and yelled louder. Their protective equipment worked well, but tended to muffle their speech. He lifted his airpack just enough to shout and then clamped it over his mouth again.
Damn him. He was trying to show her up already. Well, she wouldn’t let him. She grabbed the ax out of his hand and wielded it with near supernatural force, reducing the wooden door to splinters.
Ryan leaped through the hole and Chloe followed right behind him. They encountered a “body” on the floor. It was one of those deadweight dummies.
Ryan lifted the full-grown “man” properly and carried him over his shoulder while Chloe unlocked and opened the door wide. As he removed the body, a third firefighter joined her and she continued to the next closed door.
Her protective gear was working perfectly. She realized that Ryan may have fucked up already by trying to remove his, even for a second. In which case, she hadn’t had to do a thing to trip him up.
She wielded the ax to obliterate another door and her fellow firefighter Ed used his foot to smash a larger hole. This time Chloe jumped through first. The smoke was much thicker here, but there was nothing apparent that would lead to an explosion. Ah, the kitchen…
Chloe had seen a gas range explode before. Shannon hadn’t realized the pilot light was out until the oven she was preheating remained cold. When she tried to relight it… Boom!
Thank goodness dragons healed quickly. It took Shannon’s eyebrows a couple of days to grow back, and Chloe couldn’t help laughing at her sister’s bald, red face as soon as she knew she was going to be all right.
Yup. A blackened dummy lay on the floor of the kitchen and the charred oven door was blown off its hinges.
She handed the ax to Ed and scooped up the badly burned “body” carefully. Carrying the heavy “woman” as if she were a baby, Chloe charged through the door Ed had opened wide and rushed down the stairs.
Ryan was headed back up. As she passed him their eyes met, and then the only thing that met her foot was air. Talk about being tripped up! She sailed over the last few steps and crashed onto the floor below. Dragons could defy gravity and fly, but not in human form.
Ryan whipped around and charged back down the steps where she was struggling to get up while still holding the body. He lifted both of them and charged out of the building.
Shite! She looked like a total incompetent, having to be carried out by a fellow firefighter. And he looked like a huge hero, carrying not one, but two bodies to safety simultaneously!
He laid them on the gravel, and she struggled to get out from under the body. Of course, he wanted to help her up, but she popped up onto her own two sore feet of her own volition.
“Feck! What the hell did you do? Trip me?”
“What?” he yelled. “You’re accusing me of putting you and an innocent victim in danger?”
The captain jogged over to them. “Do you think you could put your argument on hold until the victim receives emergency medical attention?”
“Shite,” Chloe muttered. She dropped to her knees and felt for a pulse while watching to see if the chest was rising and falling. Naturally it wasn’t, so Chloe initiated CPR.
Meanwhile, Ryan located the firefighter paramedics and called them over.
Chloe reported what she’d seen in the last apartment and the captain seemed satisfied. He announced that the “gas” to the building had been shut off and returned to the scene to send in the men with a hose and observe how Ed was doing.
Chloe felt like a fool, but she should never have let her anger at Ryan interfere with the performance of her duties. She vowed it would never happen again. Then she cringed when she remembered there was another drill that afternoon.
* * *
The new recruits waited in a line after stripping off most of their turnout gear. Ryan wondered what had really happened. Was he somehow responsible for Chloe taking a header down the stairs? He certainly didn’t do anything on purpose. He hadn’t felt their bodies touch, but with all the adrenaline pumping, who knows…
The captain paced in front of the group, asking questions and sometimes adding information to their answers. When he stopped in front of Ryan and glared at him, he knew he was in trouble.
“Fierro, want to tell me what happened that caused you to carry two bodies out of the building simultaneously?”
Shit. What could he say? He didn’t know?
“Is there some reason you’re not answering my question?”
“No, sir. I—I assisted Firefighter Arish when she fell on the stairs.”
“Was Firefighter Arish unable to walk after you helped her up?”
“No.”
“Did she ask you to carry both her and the victim to safety?”
“No, but…”
“Stop.” The captain sighed. “I’m aware of the reputation your family has. Some call it the Boston Fierro Department…”
That was true. Ryan had heard it when three or four of his brothers were together at cookouts or on fishing trips with their buddies.
“But if you feel like trying to be a hero because you’re holding yourself to some kind of higher standard to gain their approval, well, just forget it. I’ve had this conversation before and frankly, I’m getting a little tired of it.”
What the… Was that what he was doing? Or was he trying to show up Chloe? Suddenly a new realization crossed his mind. Perhaps he was showing off for Chloe?
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s that, Fierro?”
“Nothing, sir. I just hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Then how did you think of it? Tell me. I’m curious.”
He took a deep breath and tried to process possible answers and their consequences in those two seconds. Finally he bit his lower lip and shook his head.
“You have no answer, do you?”
Chloe straightened her back. “Sir, may I speak?”
What the hell is she going to say? Ryan eyed her curiously.
“Sure,” the captain said. “Why not? Maybe you can explain what your fellow firefighter was thinking.”
Was that sarcasm or not? Ryan wasn’t sure, but he had a sinking feeling it was and would come with some kind of rude lesson.
“There’s been some, uh…friendly competition between Firefighter Fierro and me, sir. I think it was his way of one-upping me.”
To Ryan’s surprise, she added, “It’s as much my fault as his.”
The captain stopped pacing in front of her and faced her squarely. “I was getting to you next, but let’s talk about that now. I’m aware of the competition. I’m fairly sure I know the reason for it too, but we won’t discuss that now. What I want to know from you is, how did you fall?”
She chewed her lower lip before she answered. “I don’t know, sir. I guess my foot just missed the step.”
“So, you don’t think you were tripped?”
“No. Not really.”
The trainer crossed his arms. “Not really? What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve had a chance to reflect on it, and I don’t think I was tripped by Firefighter Fierro. I may have tripped over meself. I mean…myself.”
The captain j
ust stood there, staring her down. To her credit, her posture and gaze didn’t waver.
At last, the captain let out a snort and resumed pacing. “It happens. Although if it happens too much, you risk becoming a liability. Be aware that you could be sent for neurological testing to be sure there’s no physical reason for being a klutz.”
Klutz. Oh crap. If that story got back to the firehouse, she’d have a horrible nickname waiting for her. Even Ryan couldn’t hate her enough to let that happen.
“Sir, if I may…”
“At last he has an explanation…”
Ryan launched into the least problematic truth he could think of. “As I passed her on the stairs, I may have coughed. She turned, possibly thinking I was going to say something to her. That’s when she missed her step. I don’t think she’s a klutz.”
Instead of looking mollified, the captain appeared even angrier. “That brings me to another important point. Why did you remove your mask in the building?”
“To make sure the occupants heard us.” As an afterthought, he added, “sir.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t smart. If you coughed after that, it may have been because you inhaled smoke or toxic gases. You won’t last long if you keep breathing that crap.”
He nodded. “Understood.”
The rest of the trainees seemed to have done their jobs adequately and without incident. So much for having special powers.
The captain glanced between Ryan and Chloe and finally said, “For Christ’s sake, don’t fuck up this afternoon.”
* * *
During lunch in the classroom, Chloe spotted Ryan striding toward her. She thought everything had been hashed out. It was humiliating to be called a klutz in front of her fellow trainees, but she imagined this was the time to make mistakes—not as a probie in her own firehouse. What could he have to say to her now?
“Uh, Chloe… May I sit down?”
She hesitated, but didn’t want to look like she was harboring a grudge. “Suit yerself.”
“I’m sorry about this morning.”
Her eyes grew wide and she whispered loudly, “So, you’re admittin’ you tripped me?”
“No!” He lowered his voice. “Not at all. I’m just sorry the whole situation took place. I still don’t know how it happened. I hope we can strike a truce.”
