by Zoe Chant
Fire & Rescue Shifters: First Mission
Zoe Chant
Contents
Author’s Note
1. 1
2. 2
3. 3
4. 4
5. 5
6. 6
7. 7
8. 8
A note from Zoe Chant
Also by Zoe Chant
Author’s Note
First Mission is a standalone short story featuring the shifters of Alpha Fire Team, set about five years before Firefighter Dragon.
It does not contain any spoilers for the Fire & Rescue Shifters series, and you don’t need to have read those books to enjoy this tale!
1
Daifydd Drake had hoped that his very first call-out as a fully-qualified firefighter would be just a little bit heroic.
After all, even if he was the new guy, he was a dragon. Fireproof, powerful, able to walk through the worst inferno as though it was nothing more than a summer’s breeze. Surely a shifter of his talents would be sent to the toughest, most dangerous emergencies.
“A cat,” he repeated, hoping that he’d somehow misunderstood. “Stuck up a tree.”
“Indeed.” Fire Commander Ash glanced down at the slip of paper on his orderly desk. “According to the dispatcher’s report, at a private retirement community just outside the city. She has been stranded for several hours, and her meows are becoming increasingly distressed. The fire service’s aid has been requested in getting her down.”
Dai searched that poker-straight face for any sign that he was being pranked, and drew a blank. Then again, he had yet to see Fire Commander Ash ever show anything resembling an actual expression.
“Er,” he said. “Do we…actually do that sort of thing?”
Ash minutely adjusted the position of the paper, aligning it parallel with the edge of the desk. “When there are no other emergencies ongoing.”
“But there could be an emergency at any moment, right?” Dai said hopefully. “Shouldn’t we keep Alpha Team here at the station in case there’s an actual, well, fire? One of the other firefighters could go instead.”
Ash’s light brown eyes met his. They were clear and calm, and Dai had a sudden intense desire to crawl under his chair and die.
“Are you perhaps implying that our human colleagues are somehow less essential than us?” Fire Commander Ash’s level, neutral tone never changed. “Because we are shifters and they are not?”
Somewhere in Dai’s soul, his dragon whimpered and rolled over to show its throat. “No, sir.”
“Good.” Ash looked down, and Dai started breathing again. “And as a matter of fact, this particular incident requires a shifter.”
2
The kangaroo was the first sign that this was not a typical retirement community.
Dai landed on the lawn a little way off, folding his wings. The kangaroo carried on peacefully grazing, not so much as glancing at him. Then again, even most shifters couldn’t see dragons.
Dai cast a glance around. From the air, this had seemed to be the closest the retirement community had to a central location—a dozen or so small, cozy cottages clustered together in the enclosed, landscaped gardens.
Down here, they all looked like residential dwellings. He couldn’t see any signs indicating a main office. Nobody seemed to be around.
He looked back at the kangaroo.
Well, this is a retirement community exclusively for shifters…
Dai could make himself seen in this form if he concentrated, but people generally reacted badly to giant red dragons appearing out of nowhere. He shifted into human form instead. Thankfully, as a mythic shifter, his clothes came with him when he transformed. He tugged down his firefighter jacket and ran a hand through his windswept hair.
“Excuse me?” He cleared his throat. “Uh…”
Ma’am? Sir? He was not going to try to peer under the kangaroo’s tail to check.
“Hello?” he tried instead. “Are you a resident here?”
The kangaroo twitched an ear. It sat up on its hindlegs. At well over six feet, Dai was considerably taller than the marsupial, but somehow it still managed to look down its nose at him.
“I’m firefighter Daifydd Drake.” Having only qualified last week, it still gave Dai a warm glow in his chest to be able to introduce himself with those words. “East Sussex Fire and Rescue Service.”
The kangaroo chewed in a slow, steady motion. It did not look impressed.
Dai fixed his face in an expression of polite respect. It was his very first call-out as a full crew member, after all. He was going to be professional about it.
“I’m here about the emergency call,” he said, since that sounded a lot better than I’ve come to get a cat out of a tree. “Could you perhaps point me in the direction of the main office?”
The kangaroo gazed regally at the horizon. Dai peered hopefully in that direction, and saw nothing but hedges.
“Er…” He turned back to the kangaroo. “I’m sorry, but would you mind shifting?”
From the look the kangaroo gave him, it minded very much.
Dai tried a winning smile. “I don’t want to interrupt your, uh, lunch, but I’m kind of on the clock here. This would be a lot easier if you’d take human form for a minute.”
“Young man,” said an amused female voice behind him. “Why are you talking to Hopper?”
Dai nearly jumped out of his skin. Whirling round, he found a small, white-haired woman standing a little way off with her head cocked to one side. She wore gardening gloves and a distinctly knowing smirk.
“I, uh…” Dai glanced at the kangaroo. “It’s…not a shifter?”
“Of course not. It’s Talullah’s pet.” The woman added, as though this would explain everything, “She was in movies, you see.”
Dai did not see.
“I’m Lyla Marshal, the head custodian of Green Acres Retirement Village,” the woman continued. She looked him up and down, and raised an eyebrow. “Now, are you actually a firefighter, or have the ladies managed to sneak in another stripper?”
Another stripper?
“Yes. I mean, no!” He could feel his ears burning. “Uh, that is, I’m a real firefighter. Definitely. Yes. Dai Drake, ma’am. East Sussex Fire and Rescue. I’m here about the, uh, cat?”
Lyla gave him a reproving look. “That’s Ms. Cat to you, young man. Just because she’s forgotten how to turn human doesn’t make her any less of a person.”
“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Lyla hmphed. She subjected him to a long, lingering assessment that made his face heat even further. “You seem a little under equipped, Dai.”
Was he being pranked? Dai was very definitely starting to feel that someone must be surreptitiously filming this.
Lyra gave him a pitying look. “Young man, if you go any redder, we’ll be able to plant you on the corner and use you as a stop sign. I meant, under equipped for rescuing Ms. Cat. I was expecting them to at least send someone with a ladder. From past experience, I also highly recommend a long-handled net and full body armor.”
Dai drew himself up to his full height, gathering the shredded remains of his dignity as best he could. “I’m a dragon, ma’am. I think I can get a cat out of a tree.”
3
“Let me make sure I fully understand this,” Chase said, grinning from ear-to-ear. “You—a full grown male red dragon in the prime of life—couldn’t handle one frail, elderly, confused cat shifter.”
“Shut up,” Dai muttered, glaring at him through his fixed, professional expression. “We’re in public.”
Chase cast a glance at their audience. By now, they
’d attracted quite a crowd. This was clearly the most entertainment Green Acres had seen in years. One group of ladies had set out deckchairs, and settled in with expressions of avid interest.
Chase gave the onlookers a cheery wave, and turned back to Dai, still grinning. “Never fear, o dragon in distress. You’re no longer alone in this terrible ordeal. We have come to rescue you. We’re a team, after all. A band of brothers.”
Dai had a very brotherly urge to punch Chase’s smirking face.
Still, they were a team. The two of them had gone through training together, and joined the squad at the same time. And Dai did genuinely like the exuberant pegasus shifter…especially since most of the time, Chase made him look like the reliable, responsible one.
He sighed. “Just remember how much I’ve covered for you during training, when you’re making your report.”
Chase gave him a wounded look. “Are you suggesting that I should fail to relate every last detail back to our glorious and illustrious Commander? I am shocked. Truly shocked.”
“All right, stop ribbing the poor man,” Griff said tolerantly, appearing from round the fire truck. “Don’t fret, Dai. Even the most routine call-out sometimes goes sideways. You did the right thing, calling for backup.”
Griff’s warm, understanding tone just made Dai feel worse. No matter the emergency, Griff was always warm and understanding. He only had a few years’ seniority on Dai and Chase, but he had a natural aura of leadership.
Dai would have assumed that was due to Griff’s alpha lion…if that had been possible.
The first time they’d met, Griff had explained—in a simple, matter-of-fact way—that he was unable to shift. It had been clear that he didn’t want any pity. Griff’s disability had only increased Dai’s respect for the Scotsman. He desperately wanted to impress him.
Which did not, unfortunately, seem likely in the near future.
Griff flashed him a sidelong look that suggested he knew only too well what thoughts were going through Dai’s head. He gave Dai a kind of consolatory thump on the shoulder—the gesture somewhere between a friendly shove and a reassuring pat—before turning back to the truck.
“Come on, lads,” he said, starting to undo the clips holding the ladder to the side. “Let’s get to work. The poor old lass must be frightened, stuck all the way up there.”
“You haven’t met her yet,” Dai muttered. “That is not a meek little old lady.”
He’d thought it would be so simple. Shift, reach up, carefully grab cat in his talons, return her to the ground, modestly wave off effusive thanks.
Ms. Cat, it turned out, violently objected to being picked up by a dragon. No matter how carefully.
Should have set fire to the tree, his dragon muttered. Still could.
Dai tightened his control over his sulking beast. Red dragons had a reputation for being impulsive and prone to feral, destructive behavior. It wasn’t entirely undeserved.
He helped Griff and Chase unhook the ladder and carry it over to the huge oak. The cat shifter had retreated to the very topmost branches. Dai couldn’t spot her at all, but Griff just gave the foliage a single swift, casual glance before pointing upward.
“There she is,” Griff said, with calm certainty. “Let’s get this ladder into position.”
“Oh my.” A lady—who had to be ninety if she was a day—wolf-whistled. “That’s some mighty big equipment you’ve got there, boys. Need some help handling it?”
Dai could feel his ears heating again, but Griff smiled. Without a word, he tipped his helmet at the giggling onlookers, then got back to work.
Between the three of them, they wrestled the ladder into position. Dai braced the base as Griff started to extend the ladder.
Someone cackled. “Ooooh. It gets longer.”
“Don’t rush, boys,” another woman called. “Take your time. Set a nice steady rhythm.”
They were literally eating popcorn. Where had that come from?
Chase stepped away from the ladder, turning to the hecklers. Dai thought that he was going to try to move them on, but the pegasus shifter gazed over their heads as though he hadn’t even noticed the audience. With an exaggerated, theatrical gesture, he wiped an arm across his forehead.
“Hard work,” he announced, apparently to no one. “Especially on a hot day.”
Dai opened his mouth to point out that it was October, but Chase was already undoing his jacket. An appreciative ooooooh rippled through the crowd.
“What are you doing?” Dai hissed.
“Public relations,” Chase muttered back out of the side of his mouth.
Letting the jacket fall to the ground, Chase ran a thumb under his uniform suspenders. He flexed, turning from side to side as though working a knot out of his back. Several ladies actually applauded.
Dai shot an appalled glance at Griff. The squad leader just grinned and shrugged.
“All right, Magic Mike, get back over here before they start trying to shove money down your trousers,” Griff said, golden eyes crinkling with amusement. “Since you’re so good with the ladies, you can go up the ladder.”
“No problem.” With a last wink at his audience, Chase swaggered back over. He smirked at Dai as he set his hands on the rungs. “Watch and learn. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
4
Dai did not say, I told you so.
“You don’t have to say it,” Chase muttered, dabbing antiseptic on his wounds. “I can hear you thinking all the way from here.”
Dai hadn’t been aware that he’d been broadcasting his guilty satisfaction. Chase, as a pegasus, was a mythical shifter like himself. They were able to contact each other telepathically, though usually it didn’t happen by accident. He struggled to get a grip on himself.
“Sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I shouldn’t smirk. We are a team, after all. And there’s still a vulnerable shifter stuck up a tree.”
“There is nothing vulnerable about that lady.” Chase winced as he swabbed at the deep parallel scratches on his cheek. “She almost had my eyes out. Are we sure she’s a cat shifter? And not, for example, actually some kind of miniature, demonic wolverine?”
Griff came down the ladder, joining them again. He at least didn’t look like he’d lost a fight with a lawnmower, but he was also noticeably lacking a cat.
“No good,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried to coax her over, but she just glared and went higher.”
“Can’t you use your alpha voice thing?” Dai asked. “Order her over?”
“I don’t want to distress her.” Griff rubbed the back of his neck. “Being compelled to do something isn’t a pleasant experience.”
“You will treat Ms. Cat with courtesy and respect, young man.” Lyla folded her arms. “We have a zero tolerance policy for alpha-holes here. Start waving your big swinging dominance around, and I’ll throw you out. And write a strong complaint to your superior.”
“I don’t use my alpha power except in dire emergency, Ms. Marshal. We’re not at that point yet.” Griff’s mouth quirked. “And to be honest, I don’t think it would even work. By now my lion is pretty convinced that I’m subordinate to her.”
“Is there someone from her family that we could call to come and help calm her down?” Dai asked Lyla. “I think she’s so wary because we’re strangers. Maybe if she saw us with someone she trusts, she’d be more willing to approach us.”
Lyla’s lips tightened. “Unfortunately, no. We don’t even know if Ms. Cat has any family. She was found wandering the streets. It was only sheer luck that she was taken to an animal shelter where there’s a shifter volunteer. He recognized that she wasn’t just a stray cat, and brought her to us.”
“Poor lass,” Griff said. “And she’s never taken human form?”
“Not in all the time she’s been with us. About six months now. That’s why we call her Ms. Cat. We don’t even know her real name. Other cat shifters have tried to talk to her, but all she could communicate was that her
mate had ‘gone away’ and she needed to find him. She’s very confused and distressed by his absence.”
“No luck tracking her mate down?” Dai asked.
“No.” Lyla sighed. “And we’ve circulated Ms. Cat’s description through every shifter community in England. If her mate was still alive, he surely would have found her by now. We think he must have passed away, and the shock left poor Ms. Cat stuck in animal form. Losing a mate is a traumatic thing to happen to any shifter.”
“Yes,” Chase said, in an odd, tight voice that Dai had never heard him use before. He stared up into the tree, all traces of his usual smile gone. “It is.”
“Anyway, most of the time we’ve been able to keep her reasonably calm,” Lyla continued. “We assure her every day that we’re still looking for her mate—which is true, since if we could uncover his identity we’d find out hers as well—and usually she seems happy enough that we’re doing all that we can. But sometimes she seems to get it into her head that she should go look for him herself, and then, well…” She waved a hand at the lurking Ms. Cat. “This happens.”
“No wonder she won’t let anyone come near her.” Griff rubbed his chin. “She thinks we’re trying to stop her from finding her mate. There must be some way we can persuade her to come down.”
Shake her out, Dai’s dragon suggested, helpfully.
Dai massaged his forehead, feeling the start of a headache coming on. “Whenever we go up the ladder, she retreats higher. Maybe…maybe if you flew up there, Chase, she might go the other way, back toward the trunk, where we could catch her?”
“I am a winged horse,” Chase said, enunciating each syllable with exaggerated precision. “What exactly do you expect me to do? Hover up there like a hummingbird? I can’t perch daintily on a branch, you know.”