by Zoe Chant
“No,” Griff said slowly. “But we know someone who can.”
5
“We just called in the most powerful shifter in Europe,” Dai muttered to Chase, “to fetch a cat out of a tree.”
Chase shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t seem to mind.”
Fire Commander Ash did indeed seemed unfazed. Then again, Dai had seen Ash respond to a five-crew apartment block inferno with equal equanimity. Sometimes he wondered if Ash even had emotions.
He was currently listening with grave attention as Lyla and Griff explained the situation. If he thought the request beneath him, not the faintest sign of it showed on his face.
To Dai’s relief, Ash’s arrival had somewhat subdued the watching crowd of cheerfully lewd senior ladies. The Fire Commander was not the sort of man to attract wolf-whistles.
At least, Dai hadn’t thought he was.
Someone heaved a wistful sigh. “Now that’s a man.”
From the general murmurs of agreement, this was an unanimous opinion.
Dai squinted at Ash, trying to see what the women apparently saw. Middle-aged, sandy hair streaked with gray, deep lines around his eyes—Ash wasn’t bad-looking, he supposed, but he was hardly eye-candy.
Yet ever since Ash had arrived, none of the women had so much as glanced at the rest of the crew. They were all watching Ash with a hushed, almost reverential air. It was a far cry from their earlier ‘hen party after five tequilas’ attitude.
With a final solemn nod, Ash stepped back from Lyla. Fiery wings unfurled from his back, wrapping him in eye-searing light. In an instant, the man was gone.
Dai had been braced for it, yet he still flinched. That incandescent form cast no heat—Ash was always exquisitely in control of his shift form—yet Dai’s instincts screamed to drop and cover his head. As a red dragon, he was immune to all natural fire…but not the all-consuming power of the Phoenix.
The great bird soared upward, seeming unburdened by gravity. Ms. Cat hissed and scrabbled away as the Phoenix landed on a branch nearby.
The Phoenix folded its wings, feathers dimming to orange-red embers. Wisps of smoke rose where its golden talons clasped the wood.
Dai had expected Ash to advance on Ms. Cat, shooing her back toward the trunk, where Griff waited with the ladder…but the Phoenix just sat there, quiet and still.
Ms. Cat hissed again…but the sound was less angry, more hesitant. The Phoenix didn’t react. It didn’t even look at her. Its light rippled on the leaves, warm and gentle.
The cat crept forward, one paw at a time, ears slowly rising. She sidled up to Ash, her movements becoming looser, more relaxed.
Ash opened one wing. With a little mrrr, the cat nestled against the Phoenix’s side, paws tucking in. Her eyes half-lidded in contentment. Even at this distance, Dai could hear her purring.
Light flared, and Ash was a man again, Ms. Cat curled in his lap. She blinked, once, then shut her eyes again. She didn’t object as Ash carefully lifted her, cradling her in his arms. He waved Griff back, and carried her down the ladder himself.
“She is unharmed,” Ash said, holding Ms. Cat out for Lyla to take. “But tired by her ordeal, I think.”
Lyla stared from the cat to Ash, her expression confounded. “How did you do that?”
“I am the Phoenix. There is nothing I cannot burn.” Ash lifted one shoulder in the smallest of shrugs. “There was a great fog of confusion clouding her mind. Now there is not.”
Dai exchanged a glance with Chase. From the pegasus shifter’s expression, Chase didn’t understand this any better than he did. Lyla was looking equally baffled.
Griff, on the other hand, seemed to understand whatever it was Ash had done. “So she can shift now, if she chooses?”
“My fire can purify, but not restore.” Ash gazed down at the purring Ms. Cat, his eyes unreadable. “I cannot heal her mind. There are absences there beyond my power to change.”
Lyla nodded, sadness softening her face. “Her broken mate-bond.”
Ash looked up sharply. “Broken? Her mate bond is not broken.”
Lyla’s eyes widened. “But…we assumed her mate had passed away. Are you certain?”
“Very certain.” Ash’s voice dropped, roughening. “I know the feel of a dead mate bond. I assure you, this lady’s mate is very much alive.”
Chase pursed his lips thoughtfully. The pegasus shifter reached out, putting a hand on Ms. Cat’s small, striped head. She flicked her ears, but didn’t draw away.
Chase drew in a sharp breath. Delight spread across his face, his black eyes lighting up.
“He is alive,” he confirmed. His grin widened in triumph. “And I can find him.”
6
“This is the place,” Chase announced, stopping in front of a set of thick iron gates.
Dai peered through the wrought-iron bars. The building beyond was squat and drab, a brutal slab of cheap gray concrete. Narrow, dingy windows stared blindly out at the high enclosing walls. There wasn’t a sprig of greenery anywhere. The overall effect was of a prison block…despite the sign proclaiming Sunset Grove Retirement Home.
Dai repressed an uneasy shiver. “Not exactly welcoming, is it?”
“Between this and Green Acres, I know where I’d prefer to spend my senior years,” Griff agreed.
“Well, my pegasus is certain that the man we’re looking for is up in that room.” Chase gestured at one of the upper windows. “Now what?”
“Now what indeed.” Griff frowned at a rusty intercom bolted next to the gate. “We’re going to sound like raving idiots if we knock and ask if they’ve got a man here who’s lost his cat, when we don’t even know his name.”
“Dai could smash down the wall and grab the guy,” Chase suggested, with what Dai felt was far too much enthusiasm.
Dai glared at him. “Would you be serious for once?”
His friend gave him a wounded look totally at odds with the mischief sparkling in his dark eyes. “Just trying to make you feel useful.”
“I don’t think we need to leap straight to breaking, entering, and kidnapping, thank you,” Griff said dryly. “Let’s start with the police. I know some shifters on the local force. If we call them and explain the situation, I’m sure they’ll be able to find some excuse to go in there and talk to the man.”
Ash was already on his phone, speaking in a soft, low voice. He finished the call and put the device back in the holster at his belt.
“I have summoned assistance,” Ash said. “He should be here shortly.”
“Police?” Dai asked.
Ash shook his head. “Someone who I suspect will be of more use in this situation. Brief him when he arrives, and wait for my return.”
“Where are you going, Commander?” Dai asked as Ash turned away.
Ash didn’t glance back. “To scout ahead.”
“But-“ Dai started.
Too late. Ash disappeared in a swirl of fire. The Phoenix soared up from where he had been standing, arcing over the iron gates. It swooped once around the building, trailing flame, and then landed on the front steps. Shifting back to human form, Ash pushed open the door, and walked in—without even the slightest attempt at stealth.
“Uh…” Dai looked from the closing door to his colleagues. “Won’t he be spotted?”
Griff chuckled. “Not if he doesn’t want to be. Don’t look so worried, Dai. Ash has his ways. I’ve seen him walk through an entire crowd of curious mundanes without anyone so much as glancing at him.”
“But…how?”
Griff shrugged. “No idea. Never had the nerve to ask. Private kind of man, our Commander.”
“Do you know who he called?” Chase asked.
“Nope.” Griff jerked his chin in the direction of the street. ”But I think we’re all about to find out.”
A man was heading in their direction, stalking along as if the entire neighborhood had personally insulted his mother. From his bright silver hair, Dai assumed the man was elderly—until he
drew closer, revealing unlined, startlingly handsome features.
The man stopped a little way off, his perfect brow knotting in a frown. His icy blue gaze swept over them.
Somewhere in Dai’s chest, his dragon stirred, rousing. To Dai’s surprise, his animal didn’t growl or bare fangs in challenge, as it usually did when sensing the presence of another powerful shifter. It just stared at the man with intense focus, as though he was a bright, glittering jewel in another dragon’s hoard. Something rare and precious…and not to be touched.
The man’s eyes narrowed a little, as though his own animal had sensed the dragon’s curious attention. He treated Dai to a lingering, suspicious stare before scanning the rest of the group. He sniffed.
“Typical,” the man said, in a cut-glass English accent that screamed generations of noble ancestors. “The man insists I sprint here as a matter of utmost urgency, and then buggers off himself. Where’s the Phoenix?”
“Off being mysterious,” Griff said, lips quirking. He held out a hand. “Griff MacCormick. And you are?”
“Hugh. Hugh Argent.” The man made no move to take Griff’s hand. “I’m a…medic.”
“A…medic?” Chase repeated, with exactly the same momentary hesitation. “Not sure I’d want to be treated by someone who seems a little unsure about his qualifications.”
Hugh glared at him. “If you want to wait for someone with a full license rather than someone who was merely top of his class for six years running of medical school before electing to leave for personal reasons, then I will cheerfully let you bleed to death.”
Chase cast an exaggerated look down at his own body. “I’m not bleeding.”
Hugh folded his arms. “Yet.”
Dai stepped forward, elbowing Chase aside before he could do any more damage. “The joker here is Chase. I’m Dai.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m a red dragon.”
“How nice for you,” Hugh replied. He didn’t offer his own animal in return. “And what exactly am I doing here? I can’t help but note that there seems to be a distinct lack of trauma victims present.”
Griff spread his hands. “Sorry. The Commander didn’t tell us why he called you. But I assume it was for a good reason. He said we should wait here until he returns.”
Hugh huffed, looking even more disgruntled. “As if I don’t have better things to do than hang around street corners with a group of firefighters.”
Nonetheless, he stayed.
They stood there in uncomfortable silence, waiting. Dai couldn’t help sneaking glances at Hugh. He was just about bursting with curiosity about the man’s animal, but he held his tongue. It was beyond rude to ask a shifter directly about their nature.
Chase caught his eye, and lifted an eyebrow. The pegasus shifter’s mental voice spoke inside Dai’s head. *Care to place a bet? Prickly, defensive, surly…I’m thinking hedgehog.*
Dai snorted, and hastily covered it with a fake sneeze as Hugh glanced at him. *We really shouldn’t be speculating about this. Especially not behind his back.*
*Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not a little bit curious.* Chase gave him a kind of telepathic poke. *I saw the way you were staring. Either you’re considerably more flexible in sexual orientation than you admit, or your dragon thinks there’s something odd about him. So does my pegasus, in fact.*
Dai noticed Hugh’s ice blue eyes flick from himself to Chase. Could he tell that they were silently communicating? Normally only another mythic shifter would be sensitive to their telepathy…
His chain of thought was cut short by Ash returning. The Phoenix shifted back to human form, straightening his uniform shirt.
“Mr. Argent.” Ash dipped his chin, acknowledging the mysterious medic. “My thanks for your prompt arrival. I believe this situation will require your unique talents.”
Without waiting for a response, Ash pressed the intercom button. A harsh buzz vibrated from the small speaker, followed by a bored-sounding voice saying, “Yes?”
“This is Commander Ash of East Sussex Fire & Rescue,” Ash said calmly. “I am here to see Mr. Jones.”
7
“Mr. Jones?” the carer repeated, in tones of some incredulity. “You want to talk to Mr. Jones?”
“Yes.” Ash stood with his hands folded behind his back, looking perfectly composed. “On a matter of great urgency.”
The woman’s eyes flicked over them all, growing even rounder as she took in their uniforms. “Um…you do know his condition, right? The poor man suffered a massive stroke. He can only form a few words, and even those aren’t coherent.”
“Nonetheless, we need to see him.” Ash tilted his head, indicating the corridor beyond. “If you would be so kind…?”
“I think you’ve got the wrong person.” The woman shrugged, and started to lead the way. “But it’s your own time you’re wasting. And it’ll be nice for Mr. Jones to have some visitors at last.”
“No one’s come to see him?” Griff asked as they all tramped up the stairs. “No family? Friends?”
“People who end up here don’t have family or friends.” The woman knocked on a door. “Mr. Jones? Visitors to see you.”
She pushed open the door without waiting for a response, revealing a small, plain room. An elderly man lay in a narrow bed, propped up by pillows. The left side of his face hung slack, the corner of his mouth drooping in a perpetual frown.
“Minnie,” the man said, the name so badly slurred that it was barely understandable. He seemed to try to sit up, his left arm pushing at the mattress in a futile effort to move his half-paralyzed body. “Minnie?”
“No, Mr. Jones,” the woman said, in the weary tones of someone who’d had this conversation far too many times today already. “Not Minnie. Some firefighters.”
The man’s left eye was half-lidded, but his right flicked over them all. Dai was struck by the sharp, bright intelligence in that gaze…and the desperation.
“Mr. Jones.” Ash addressed the elderly man, all calm courtesy. “I am Fire Commander Ash of East Sussex Fire and Rescue. These are my associates Dai, Griff, Chase, and Hugh. We are here to talk to you about your cat.”
The carer stared at Ash. “That’s what this is about? His cat?”
“Minnie,” the man repeated, even more urgently. He made a clumsy, sweeping gesture at a couple of framed pictures propped up on a small table next to his bed. “Minnie.”
Ash picked up one of the pictures. Peering over the Fire Commander’s shoulder, Dai saw that it was a portrait of the elderly man—still lined and white-haired, but smiling, vigorous. A familiar tabby cat perched on his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his with clear affection.
Ash turned the picture around, showing it to the man in the bed. “This is Minnie, sir?”
The man’s good eye widened. Apart from a spasming tremor in his left hand, he went very still.
“No, that’s Minnie.” The carer pointed at the other picture, which showed a handsome, smiling woman with grey hair and mischievous green eyes. “His wife.”
One of Ash’s eyebrows lifted. “And where is Mrs. Jones?”
“No one knows. She wasn’t at home when Mr. Jones collapsed, and nobody’s been able to contact her. Apparently she’s something of a free spirit. Gallivants off around the globe for months and months at a time.” The carer sniffed in clear disapproval. “Leaving poor Mr. Jones behind all on his own. And she hasn’t even called him, in all this time. I mean, she can’t know he had a stroke, but surely any caring wife would phone her husband at least once in six months.”
“How do you know all this?” Chase asked. He gestured at Mr. Jones. “If he can’t communicate.”
“His neighbor told us. He’s the one who found Mr. Jones after the stroke, and called the ambulance.”
Griff frowned. “Yet this neighbor didn’t know have any clue where Mrs. Jones might have gone?”
The carer shook her head. “He’s just a neighbor, not a friend. Mr. Jones lived very privately, in a little cottag
e out in the countryside. It was lucky his neighbor found him. It’s a nice story, actually. Mr. Jones’ cat ran to the house next door and meowed until the neighbor followed her home. It’s funny how animals know these things sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Minnie,” whispered Mr. Jones.
“Yes,” Ash said. He set the picture back down, carefully. “It is. May I ask what became of the cat?”
“Well, it got taken to the local shelter, of course. He can’t look after an animal in his condition, even if we allowed pets here.” The carer patted Mr. Jones’s hand, adopting a louder, slower voice, as though talking to a child. “I’m sure she’s with a very nice family now, Mr. Jones. Enjoying a big sunny garden and lots of attention.”
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Chase muttered. Dai kicked him.
Ash shot the two of them a brief, warning look before turning back to the carer. “Ms. Grant, we need to speak with Mr. Jones in private, please.”
The carer frowned. “I don’t think—”
“It’s fine,” Griff interrupted. He smiled at the woman, warm and friendly, but his golden eyes glinted. His voice dropped to a deep, powerful rumble. “You can leave us with him. You trust us. Everything’s fine.”
A glazed expression crossed the carer’s face. “That’s…fine?”
“You’re going now.” Griff took hold of her shoulders, turning her around. “You need to get back to work.”
The woman nodded, her jaw slack. “I need to get back to work.”
“These are not the droids you’re looking for,” Chase said under his breath. Dai kicked him again.
“That’s right. Off you go.” Griff steered the unresisting woman out the door. He closed it behind her, turning back to Ash. “The alpha command won’t hold long. We’ve probably only got about five minutes before she realizes she shouldn’t have left us alone and comes back to kick us out. And this time she’ll be on her guard. I won’t be able to influence her again so easily.”