A breakfast burrito would soon be in her future.
How’s about that for a vision?
Sit on that one, Fates.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A masculine voice broke the silence and she jumped, finding the object of her thoughts standing behind her.
“Damn it, Seth!”
He chuckled. “Look, come on. Back to the room. Sorry, I was late, but it’s been a long night.”
Violet crossed her arms. “I’m tired of being your prisoner. I want to go out to breakfast and eat like a normal person.”
“We could do that.”
“Fine. If you’re buying I want pancakes.”
His lips quirked up in a grin. “Anything else?”
“Yes. And I want to stay in a place longer than a change of underwear. God…” Violet stomped down the stairs, the chill air of the morning a relief after the stale air of the room. She was going to get her pancakes. As soon as she figured out where the hell she was. Chances were a hotel like this was close to a Waffle Shack.
Her mouth watered at the idea and her fingers sparked icy fire.
Sausage. Syrup. Hash browns. Oh, and a giant glass of orange juice.
“Violet, come back here please.”
“Why should I?” She whirled on him, tears prickling in the corner of her eyes. “Why did you save me? Three days in weird hotel after weird hotel? I’m not an angel like you, where all you do is drift around. I can’t live like this. Not anymore.”
A child’s face poked through the curtains of the hotel room she stood next to and Violet flushed.
Seth rolled the arms up on his black sweater and dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. His wings flashed in the early morning light and he gave the child a wink, chuckling when the kid yelped and slammed the curtains shut, calling for his mother.
“Will you please come back with me to the room? I’d rather not have this conversation out here.” Seth gave her an awkward smile.
“Why should I?”
“Because I think you’ll want to hear this.”
“Fine. But you’re telling me whatever it is over pancakes. And bacon. Right now.” Violet kept walking. Sure enough the waffle place was just up the stretch of pavement on the other side of the parking lot from the hotel.
Violet heard him trudging along behind her but she didn’t stop till the waitress sat them down in a booth next to the windows and placed sticky laminated menus on the table.
“Here ya’ll go. You want some coffee?” The tired looking woman pulled a pencil out of her heavily sprayed hair and yanked a pad from her stained pink apron.
“Yes. Please. And an orange juice, please. The large one.” Violet opened the menu and scanned it for the biggest pancake and egg plate she could find. With bacon and hash browns.
“No, thank you.” Seth frowned and the woman walked off. “Are you going to talk to me?”
“That depends. Are you going to keep dragging me around like a stray puppy?”
“I do not.”
Violet crossed her arms on the table, careful to avoid the sticky spot near her elbow. “You do so. I want a chance at a life. Not just a stop on the bus line of eternity, or whatever you guys call it.” She lifted up her hand and wiggled her fingers in the air.
The waitress reappeared with a mug of coffee and orange juice for her and a water for Seth. Laying them down on the table, she dug the pad out of her apron again. “Did ya’ll decide what you want?”
“I’ll have the Blue Bird special. With hash browns.”
“Bacon or sausage?” The waitress scribbled on her order pad.
“Ohhh. Bacon. Please.” Violet grinned.
The waitress turned her attention to Seth. “You want anything? Some toast maybe?”
“No. Thank you.” Seth shook his head, giving the woman a bland smile and pushed the glass of water around the table.
“Suit yourself.” The waitress hustled back toward the kitchens and Violet’s eyes followed her.
“So what was it you wanted to tell me?”
Seth scrubbed his finger against a mark on the table and looked up, meeting Violet’s gaze, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips. “I think we’ve found where the Fates are going to put you.”
He slid a brochure out of his back pocket and shoved it across the table at her. “This is Westmore. I’ve found you an apartment. That’s what took me so long tonight. Red tape. You also have a job interview at the Hot Whips Café. One of my people helped secure it so it would go quickly.” Her fingers accidentally brushed his and she caught an impression of him speaking with a stranger and a small cottage style apartment with cheery colors and a tiny garden out back.
Now that was weird. She’d never really gotten much in the way of impressions from people before. Maybe it was because he was an angel.
I can hear you.
And I can hear you right back. Violet raised her eyebrows, not sure what to say. “Uh huh. It’s pretty. What’s the catch?” She flipped open the catalog and immediately warmed to the shifter friendly atmosphere. They liked people who were different. Well… that was her all over.
There was a picture in the brochure of the café. Bright colors and a sassy group of young women leaning on the counter with a plate of scones. Nice. A vision slid through her just then of a group of women and herself, laughing.
Oh.
“I remembered you liked to bake, so….”
Violet was touched. He really did care. A flush of heat slid up the back of her neck. “How far away is Westmore?”
“The next town over. I think you’ll like it there. It’s…how should I say…been on my radar before recently.”
“Okay.”
The waitress hustled over with Violet’s plate and plopped it down on the table and eyed Seth. “Here you go. You sure you don’t want anything, sugar?”
“Thanks.” Violet picked up her fork and stabbed into the glorious bounty in front of her, the scent of the bacon making her drool.
“No, thank you.” Seth returned his eyes down to the table, stubbornly not looking at the waitress and she ambled away toward the next table of guests.
“Do you ever eat?”
“Nope. Don’t need to.”
Well you should, she thought at him. He glanced up at her in surprise and she grinned, popping a piece of bacon in her mouth.
Violet cut into her pancakes and shook her head. “Now that’s just a shame. You’re really missing out.”
Seth frowned. “I don’t need to eat. Why should I?”
“Because it’s good.”
I don’t want to, he thought back.
“Will it kill you?”
He considered her question. “No.”
“Then you should try something.”
The angel sighed. “We have a week for you to connect with your mate and find your purpose for being here or the Fates will find a way to collect you back. No offense, but I’m not worried about my culinary palate. I’m worried about keeping you alive.”
Oh shit.
Exactly.
“Oh. Well if that’s all…” Violet took a drink of her coffee, trying to still the shaking in her hands. She had a week. Wow. She would be damned if she was going to hand her life back over to a bunch of women who were bound and determined to see her die just when she might have a chance to live.
Chapter Two
“You have to be kidding me.” Dante Hoffman stared at the package of calendars in the fire Chief’s hand and wanted to singe the whole mess into oblivion right alongside the dinner he just ruined. His smiling face and nearly naked body graced the cover with only a strategically placed hose between him and the porn police. He thought they were going to maybe blur it…or something. But not high def, in danger of being exposed.
Fuck.
The room was already hostile when they found out it was Dante’s turn to cook. They rotated shifts in the firehouse kitchen to keep things fair, but as for actual culinary skills? Not
on his life. Once a month he pulled kitchen duty, he ordered chicken or grabbed a sack of burgers. Mostly, so the guys would still talk to him and he didn’t need to put out his own fire and embarrass himself. Again. His dragon stretched beneath his skin, chortling at his human’s discomfort.
Scaly bastard.
The kitchen smelled like burnt tomato sauce and hostile shifters. He wanted to melt into the floor and take the burnt tray of lasagna in his hand with him. Baking a pre-made dinner started off as a good idea-until the last call and the fact that he’d forgotten to turn off the oven. He flung the charred remains into the sink and grimaced.
“We talked about this.” His Chief faced the rec room full of on duty firemen and sighed, his off duty jeans and button down shirt a direct contrast to some of the men still decked out in their gear, sweaty and dirty from the last call, including Dante.
Hell’s bells.
He turned on the faucet and closed his eyes when the water hissed as it met the charred pasta and meat. His chief cleared his throat and Dante tore his attention from the now wet mess of burnt noodles to deal with this new disaster.
A calendar. With him in it.
“No. We talked about a couple of pictures to do some community awareness. Like for social media. Not this…this… I don’t know what the hell to call this.” A thin slice of smoke drifted up from Carter’s lips and his eyes flared crimson, revealing his discomfort. “I mean, you know… Instagram. Stuff like that vet guy does to get followers. But a calendar?” The horror on the other man’s face mirrored everyone in the room.
Cause Dante bet they were all in it. Every stinking one.
“I agree. You should have asked us, Cap.” Nolan, one of the bear shifters frowned, unclasping his coat and hanging it up so it could be cleaned.
The Captain shifted his feet and placed the bundle of calendars on the rec room table. “Look. You guys know we’re having some budget cuts, right?”
Dante and the others nodded.
There hadn’t been much other talk in the rec room over the last few days. Since the Cap had come back from the meeting with his superiors, he’d been tense and on edge.
“It’s not just that. They’re pressuring the volunteer versus paid crap again and we need as much community pushback as possible to keep you on salary.”
“They would do that?” Reggie, the rookie wolf shifter, sat toward the back of the room, fidgeting in his chair. He gripped a bottle of water in his hand, nervously playing with the cap.
“They have done it. A few towns over in Jackson when the funds got hard to come by, they switched to an all-volunteer crew.”
“But here in Westmore they’ve always done it this way.” One of the newer guys with a family at home spoke up, his lips thinning with worry. “If I have to find another job I won’t be able to volunteer at all. Not with the kids. Not right now.”
“What is and what will be can sometimes be two different things.” The Captain sighed. “I need your help, guys. This may seem a little unorthodox, but believe it or not, we might actually pull off the money we need to keep us going if we can sell our quota.”
“How many?”
“Two thousand to start.”
“Jesus.” Reggie almost choked on the water he’d been drinking. “How are we supposed to do that?”
Dante silently agreed.
Grogan, the old dragon shifter Dante had met when he signed on five years ago sat so still he might have been part gargoyle. The man stayed silent, his expression not giving an inch. He had to hate the changes rolling down with every breath in his body, but he was a tough nut to crack. Like a ghost, he drifted through his shifts having as little to do with the other men as possible.
“But here’s the thing. It turns out we’ve got some competition. You guys know Hot Whips has started doing a calendar too. How’s about one of you take some of these over after your shift and ask Sage if she’ll help us sell them?”
“You think she would do that?”
The Cap stared him down. “It never hurts to try.”
Damn.
Carter turned to him, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You burned dinner. I think you need to bring those calendars over and while you’re out, grab us some tacos, bud.”
Shit.
He turned to look for Grogan, wanting to ask him if he just wanted a burger but the man had already vanished from sight. Just then the alarm rang out and the men burst into action. They had lives to save, later they would take care of saving themselves. But Dante hadn’t forgotten the look in the Captain’s eyes. They had a mission and if he had to sell a stack of beefcake, then by God he would.
***
He bent down and lit the blaze, conscious that no one had seen him. The flames licked along his tongue and he relished the shift that waited just out of reach. It wouldn’t do to have a dragon seen in the shadows. Not here. Not now. But the fire wouldn’t wait. It called to him.
Building after building that belonged to the old guard must be destroyed. Any evidence of what went on before would be washed away by purification of flame and the fury of nature. The young pup who called himself Alpha knew nothing. But he did. The bodies that were buried beneath the rubble. The ones that never came home. Nor would they if he had his way. No one needed to know what waited in the darkness until it was upon them once more. The hybrids extinguished? Carrick was a fool if he actually believed that.
He knew the rookies couldn’t be trusted. There was one more bit of evidence from the past that needed to be erased and she sat in the café just down the street with her damaged arm and new perfect life being mated to the new Alpha pup. If the cat shifter female marked him as one of them his life would be over, so he stayed in the shadows watching and biding his time.
His fingers, half formed into talons closed into a fist, the sharp points digging gouges into his palms. He would wait and remove the threat, her body the perfect kindling.
Chapter Three
“It’s getting worse.” Dante unwound another hose from the truck, dragging the weight of it toward the burning granary and the rookie waiting next to the hydrant. The abandoned building stood empty for years and now for whatever reason it had gone up in flames. It didn’t make sense. But then again, neither did the shed in the north fields next to the Branson’s ranch on the outskirts of town exploding into burning tinder a few days before.
Reggie, the new wolf approached. “Thanks.”
“No problem, kid. Now, go set it up like you did during the drill.” Dante’s dragon shifted below his skin, edgy and eager to be a part of the fire and to bring it to heel. Unnatural to his kind, he fought against the flame and claimed it for his own. One of the many reasons he’d ended up here in Westmore and not nesting with a plump female back in his family’s lands in the mountains.
Too many alpha males and not enough space to mark his own territory.
He stifled a chuckle and grimaced at the image that brought. A crew was the perfect place for him. The alpha males around him worked as a team instead of trying to rip each other’s throats out. A definite improvement over where he came from.
Unless it was his turn to cook dinner. And after last night it had been a close one. But ten pizzas later after the small blaze they’d taken care of and all was right in the world again. At least for another month.
When he heard about the new Westmore pack leader and what he was trying to do, he knew this was the place for him. Shifters from all over came here to carve a place for themselves and he was determined to do the same.
Only someone wasn’t playing nice.
Carter growled, a puff of smoke sliding out from between his lips. “I don’t like this.”
Dante eyed the blaze and agreed with his crew mate. He didn’t like it either. Their chief, Finn, a bear shifter, rounded the back of the engine, a grim expression on his face, a radio clutched in his large hands.
“Are you saying there’s someone inside?” He barked into the radio, the last word more like a growl
than an actual word.
“Yes, Captain. An onlooker heard cries.” Zane, a shifter from the second engine’s voice rang through the device. “I need Dante or Carter for this one. It could go any time.”
“Dante!” The Captain roared, his beast riding in his eyes. “That place is a man trap. I need you to do a fly through and push back the blaze.”
“Shit.” Dante placed his helmet in the back of the truck and went to remove his Turnout jacket and pants. He wasn’t about to fuck up another set shifting in the middle of the flames like the last time he had to deal with an unexpected backdraft. Nor was he going to give any onlookers a free show. It was bad enough the Cap had been mercilessly haranguing the crew about a damned calendar to try and raise funds. He didn’t need a damned naked pic of himself floating around Instagram either.
“You want company or you got this?” Carter eyed the burn, watching the rookie wolf at the business end of the hose get taken for a ride.
“I got it. You better watch Reggie. I know the new Alpha wanted him put through the paces, but Jesus.” Dante rolled his eyes as the hose almost got away from the kid.
“God, Carter. You better rein him in or Cap is going to hand him his ass for a hat. Especially if that gets on the front page of the paper.”
They both watched Reggie wrestle with the hose and the unfortunate rookie get taken for a ride. Reggie dropped the hose and proceeded to scramble after it. Carter groaned. “I know we got him because he was pretty, but damn.”
“Don’t remind me.” Dante flexed his muscles and sighed. “The Cap and his brilliant schemes.”
Carter groaned and stomped off toward the rookie. “Reggie. For the love of crap. You hold it like this.” The more experienced firefighter took the pressurized hose from the newbie just as the first local news media van pulled up and the camera crew exploded onto the scene.
“Fucking great.” Dante turned away and stepped further back behind the engine. Having his shift caught on video wasn’t in line with how he wanted this night to go. He lifted his nose to the air and the sweet salty taste of smoke lit through him, appeasing the dragon that dwelled beneath his human skin.
Westmore Wolves Series: Shapesifter Collection Bks 1-5 Page 17
