by Zoe Chant
“Alpha Team proceeding east down Green Street,” Commander Ash said into the radio. “Without side mirrors.”
“May I ask if we are there yet?” John Doe said plaintively from his seat next to Hugh.
In the rear-view mirror, Chase could see that John had his eyes tightly closed. He was faintly green, which was not a good combination with his long, indigo hair.
Chase stomped on the brake, spinning the steering wheel at the same time. The fire truck lurched on two wheels, sliding sideways round the corner as it decelerated. The smell of burning rubber from the truck's tires mixed with the thicker tang of smoke.
“And here we are,” Chase announced brightly.
Ash had the side door open even before the truck had fully come to a halt. He jumped down with a smooth, practiced leap. The rest of the fire team disembarked more slowly as Ash's intense, dark eyes swept the scene.
To Chase, it all just looked a mess. Thick black smoke was billowing out of the door of a shabby bar, while a small crowd milled uncertainly on the opposite side of the road. From the clouded windows, it looked like the entire building was filled with smoke. A man was collapsed on the sidewalk out front, but no one seemed to want to go to his aid.
Chase couldn't even begin to guess where the fire had started, or the best way to go about putting it out. His talents were suited to making instinctive, split-second decisions when driving, not to this sort of tactical stuff.
Fortunately, that wasn't his job.
Commander Ash gave the building the barest glance before turning back to his fire team. “Basement. There must have been a great deal of paper debris.”
That was the advantage of being led by the Phoenix. He always knew exactly where the fire was.
“I am keeping the fire from spreading further, but we must work quickly,” Ash continued. He had the slightly abstracted look that meant he was focusing on using his special talent to control the flames. “Hugh, attend to the casualties. Chase, is there anyone in the building?”
Chase concentrated. His stallion raised its head, sniffing the wind. Its ears pricked up sharply. There was a scent under the smoke. Something compelling, and familiar…
Chase shivered, suddenly feeling oddly on edge. “Yes. One person. A woman, I think.”
“In which case, John and I will go in.” Ash looked up at the enormous shifter. None of the fire team were small men, but John still loomed over them all. “We will need respiratory gear.”
John nodded, heading back to the truck to unpack the breathing masks. Normally, they didn't need such equipment—Dai, their fire dragon shifter and the last member of the team, would have just strolled straight into the smoke without any protective gear at all. But he was off duty today, and miles away in London with his mate. The fire team would have to carry out the rescue the old-fashioned way… and just hope that they could reach the trapped woman in time.
Chase stared into the swirling smoke darkening the windows of the bar.
Why do I really, really wish that Dai was here right now?
“Chase. Chase.” He started, Commander Ash's voice finally getting through to him. “I said, get the hose ready.”
“What? Oh.” Chase shook himself, forcing himself to concentrate on the job instead of his strange, rising sense of urgency. “Right.”
He tried to turn toward the truck, but his stallion reared up and screamed at him. His pegasus was frantic, hooves flashing and wings beating with agitation.
Run! Go! Now!
And abruptly Chase knew exactly who was trapped in the burning building.
“Chase!” Ash's shout followed him as he plunged into the smoke.
Immediately, Chase's eyes started to burn. He closed them, relying on his stallion to guide him as he charged blindly through the bar. He could feel the heat of the floor even through the thick soles of his boots.
Commander Ash's telepathic voice abruptly crashed into his head. *What are you DOING?*
*Trust me!* Chase sent back.
He couldn't spare the time to explain further. All of his concentration was focused on sound and touch, tiny cues that told him how to navigate safely through the burning building.
His lungs burned in his chest, but he didn't dare draw in a breath. He could taste how thick the smoke was, bitter and acrid on his tongue. Even a single lungful would put him helpless on the floor, coughing his guts out.
Holding his breath, he charged down a flight of stairs, leaping the ones that had already fallen in. Embers swirled around him. His uniform jacket and trousers protected him from most of them, but some still burned the bare skin of his neck and face. Chase barely felt the pain. His stallion danced in agitation, urging him on.
There. There!
Chase scooped her up, cradling her protectively against his chest. There was no time to check whether she was breathing. His own lungs were burning, every instinct in his body desperate to draw in air. White spots danced behind his closed eyes as he blindly raced back up the stairs.
His chest felt like he was being squeezed by iron bands. Chase stumbled, strength draining out of his legs as his body cried out to breathe. Only the weight in his arms kept him moving forward. His entire world narrowed to the single desperate need to get his precious burden to safety.
Just one more step. Just one more. One more—
He stumbled out into light and cool air. Chase collapsed to his knees, still cradling her tightly in his arms. Clean air had never tasted so good. For a moment, all he could do was blink his streaming eyes, and breathe.
Ash seized him under the arms. The phoenix shifter dragged both Chase and the woman he'd rescued further away from the burning building. “Hugh!” he shouted.
A second later, Chase felt Hugh's bare hand on his neck. A familiar, comforting warmth spread out from the paramedic's touch. The pain from his burns eased as Hugh's healing talent took effect.
“I'm okay,” Chase said, jerking away. “Concentrate on her. Please, now!”
Hugh shot him a curious look, but transferred his focus to the rescued woman instead. Chase watched anxiously as the paramedic ran his bare hands over her throat and face. She was pale and motionless, limp in Chase's arms. Terror filled him, as thick and deadly as smoke in his lungs.
When she finally took a breath, all the air rushed out of him. He sagged in relief.
“That's it,” he said to her, stroking her singed red hair back from her beautiful face. “There you are. There you are at last.”
“Chase. Explain yourself.” Chase had never heard Ash so coldly furious. A faint heat-haze shimmered in the air around his shoulders, in the shape of burning wings. “What is going on here?”
“Commander Ash, allow me to introduce Constance West.” Chase never took his eyes off Connie's face. A broad grin spread across his own face as she started to stir. “That's it. You're okay, Connie. Everything's going to be okay.”
Connie's eyelids fluttered open. She looked straight up at Chase. Her eyes widened with recognition.
“Oh, no,” she croaked, and promptly fainted again.
Chase beamed up at the rest of the fire team. “She's my mate.”
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