Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew Book 1)

by Zoe Chant

  She hesitated, but she was tired, so tired, of keeping secrets. This one was at least harmless. It couldn’t hurt to share it with someone.

  “Yes.” A tiny amount of weight seemed to lift from her shoulders as she admitted it. “Actually, I am.”

  He looked even more relieved than she felt. “And the reason you haven’t said anything to him is because of a certain power differential?”

  She blinked at him.

  Wystan sighed. “I am going to need to have a long lie down after this. Edith. Don’t you see why I told you about Tanner and Leto? Even though Tanner is Leto’s squad boss, they have a relationship. It all works fine. Nobody minds, not even Buck. You shouldn’t let your relative positions stop you from approaching…the person we’re discussing.”

  Pieces finally clicked together. He thought she was intimidated by the fact Rory was squad boss. That was so far down her list of problems, she’d never even considered it before.

  “It doesn’t bother me,” she said truthfully. “I mean, it’s not like he would be abusing his power over me or anything. I’m a grown woman. I can give consent.” She sighed. “I’d be enthusiastically consenting.”

  Wystan was looking at her oddly, as though this conversation wasn’t going at all how he’d thought it would. “Then what’s stopping you?”

  She looked down at her feet. “He doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

  Wystan muttered something that she didn’t quite catch. The last few words sounded awfully like, “…strangle that idiot.”

  “Sorry?” she said.

  “Never mind.” Wystan massaged his forehead as if he had a headache. “Edith, have you asked him?”

  She bit her lip. “You’ve just seen how bad I am at talking about these things appropriately. The last thing I want to do is offend him.”

  “If we are both obliquely referring to the same someone, which I am fairly certain we are, then he definitely won’t be offended.” One eyebrow quirked. “Edith, I’ve had nearly this exact same conversation with him. Believe me, your attraction is very much mutual. He hasn’t said anything to you because he thought you might feel pressured.”

  Excitement rose through her body, too powerful to contain. Her fingers rippled against her thigh. The best she could do was try to keep the motion small, so Wystan wouldn’t notice.

  Wystan was Rory’s friend. They shared a cabin. If he said that Rory liked her, it must be true.

  Of course, she realized with a slight lurch, that meant that Rory liked the version of her that he’d seen. The one who was quiet and smiling and still. Not her true self.

  Then again, it wasn’t like she could show her true self anyway. And if it was the choice between being repressed and stressed all day long, and being repressed and stressed all day long while also spending every night having fabulously hot sex with a sinfully attractive firefighter…well, she knew which one she’d pick.

  “You really think he feels the same way about me?” she asked him. “Truly?”

  “I don’t think it. I know it. Promise me you’ll talk to him?”

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of confessing her true emotions to Rory. Her racing thoughts spilled over. “I want to, really I do. But I’m not good with words. And maybe it’s the wrong moment. We’re about to go on active duty. Is it fair to distract him now? Even if he does like me like I like him, we shouldn’t rush into anything. It could affect the squad. I think I should wait.”

  She discovered she was walking by herself. Wystan had stopped in the middle of the path. One hand covered his eyes. His shoulders shook.

  “Wystan?” she said, worried. “Are you okay?”

  He dropped his hand again. “Excuse me for a moment.”

  He walked over to the nearest tree. Slowly, gently, and very deliberately, he bashed his own forehead against the trunk several times.

  “Uh.” She’d never made someone literally bang their head against a wall before. “Wystan?”

  “My apologies.” He turned back to her, offering her a rueful smile. “But you two are unbelievably alike. Edith, I know your head is coming up with a hundred good reasons why you should hide your feelings. It’s understandable—baring your soul to someone else is terrifying. But if you are honest with each other, truly honest, then all will be well. I promise.”

  Her throat had gone dry. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because—“ He seemed to catch himself, changing his mind about whatever he’d been about to say. “Because he’s my friend. I know him as well as I know myself—better, perhaps. And I can’t stand to see him suffering needlessly. I beg you, just talk to him. As soon as you can. Promise me?”

  She swallowed hard. She couldn’t be honest with Rory the way that Wystan meant.

  But she could at least be honest with him about some things. And maybe…maybe that would be enough.

  “I promise. I’ll tell him how I really feel.” She lifted her chin, setting her shoulders. “Tonight.”

  Chapter 19

  “Rory, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” Edith took a deep breath, lifting her chin. “I think that I’m falling in love with you.”

  She studied her reflection in the mirror critically.

  She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Now I look like I’m telling him I ran over his dog,” she said out loud to the empty bathroom. “He’s going to think I don’t want to be in love with him.”

  No matter how she practiced, she couldn’t get her expression right. Widening her eyes in a winsome fashion had just made her look like a brain-damaged deer. Smiling had given the impression that she was on class-A drugs. Not smiling had turned out to be even worse. She’d briefly tried on the Instagram duckface pout, and had immediately vowed never to do so again.

  She pushed her hair back, scowling. She rearranged her face one last time, trying to strike that perfect balance between serious and sultry.

  “Rory, I think I’m falling in love with you,” she declaimed to the mirror. “And now I will club you over the head and drag you back to my sex dungeon. Gaaaaaah. Why is this so hard?”

  She wished she could confess her feelings via text. But she knew it was rude to end a relationship over the phone. It was probably even ruder to try to start one that way.

  It would have been easier if they were in fourth grade. She could have just passed him a note in class: I LIKE YOU DO YOU LIKE ME Y/N?

  She stuck her tongue out at herself, giving up. She’d just have to wing it. Maybe she could persuade him to come out on a late-night walk, where the darkness would hide her face. Or, even better, dive into a bush and make her confession while completely hidden.

  She left the bathroom, emerging into the small corridor that joined her and Blaise’s rooms. She hadn’t heard Blaise come back into the cabin yet, but she knocked on her closed door just in case.

  “Blaise?” she called. “I’m going to dinner. Are you in there?”

  Silence answered her. Frowning, Edith checked the time on her watch. Blaise and the others should have been back an hour ago. She couldn’t imagine what they could be doing out in the woods for so long. Maybe they’d gone straight to the mess hall.

  Her stomach growled at the thought of food. Three hours of daily physical training followed by hikes, briefings, tool practice and equipment checks burned a lot of calories. She would have been embarrassed about how much she wolfed down every meal, except that everyone else on A-squad ate at least twice as much. Even Joe usually polished off three helpings, no matter how he grumbled about the hired cook’s unadventurous seasoning.

  She headed for the mess hall, the setting sun slanting low through the trees. Most evenings, people liked to eat outside—even a room as big as the hall was cramped for the whole crew. Not to mention that at the end of a long day, twenty tired firefighters made for a powerful aroma in an enclosed space.

  The majority of the crew were already tucking into their meals, seated comfortably on the
picnic tables scattered in front of the large building. She noticed Tanner a little way off, gesturing with his fork while he explained something to his gathered squad. Leto sat next to him, the two men’s shoulders and thighs touching. Of course those two were partners. It was obvious, now that she knew.

  The easy companionship between the two men made a little pang of longing go through her. How nice it would be to sit with Rory like that. Comfortably side-by-side, leaning against his solid, strong warmth…

  Tanner noticed her watching. The B-squad boss gave her a little wave, smiling behind his beard. She waved back, shaking herself free of her reverie. The brief daydream filled her with renewed determination. If she opened up to Rory like Wystan had said, then maybe one day it would be her and Rory sitting together like that.

  Jittery excitement tingled through her limbs. She scanned the gathered firefighters, but couldn’t see any of her squadmates. Their customary table was still empty.

  Rory, can we take a walk after dinner? She practiced her script in her head as she collected a tray and waited in line for her turn. She barely noticed what the grumpy cook dished onto her plate. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you…

  She took her usual spot, still trying out alternative phrases. Rory, I’ve been watching you for some time and…no, that made her sound like a stalker. Rory, I admire you so much…no, too ambiguous. Rory, you sex god, take me now…

  “Hey. We want to sit here.”

  She jumped at the unexpected voice. In her preoccupation, she hadn’t noticed Seth until he was looming right over her. Two other men from C-squad flanked him. All three wore identical smiles, eyes glinting.

  “Uh.” She looked around, confused. There were still empty tables available. “Don’t you normally sit over there?”

  “Yes.” Seth put his tray down, shoving hers aside a few inches. “But today we’re going to sit here.”

  Maybe they were just trying to be friendly? They were smiling, after all. She smiled back uncertainly.

  Rory had said that A-squad should try to be polite to Seth. It would be rude to get up and go somewhere else, or ask them to take a different table. She didn’t want to do anything that would give Seth an excuse to snipe at Rory.

  “Okay.” She scooted over a little, giving Seth room to sit down. “There’s plenty of space.”

  The three C-squad hotshots exchanged glances, as though this hadn’t quite been what they’d expected to happen. Then, with a shrug, Seth slid in next to her. She cringed away from the heat of his leg near hers, fixing her eyes on her plate.

  “So where’s Doofus and the Goon Squad?” Seth asked as he shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Got lost in the woods?”

  “I-I don’t know.” His close proximity rubbed against her skin like sandpaper, but she couldn’t edge any further away without falling off the bench. “They went off to do something. I don’t know what.”

  “Leaving you behind, huh?” said one of Seth’s buddies. With an effort, she recalled his name was Ernie, while the other one was Ed. “Well, we all know Rory didn’t hire you for your firefighting skills.”

  It took her a second to work out what he meant. Heat rose in her cheeks.

  “I’ve never slept with Rory,” she blurted out.

  “It’s all right, princess,” Ed said. “You don’t have to play the blushing innocent with us. Go on, admit it. I bet you two are going at it like bunnies behind every tree on those ‘hikes,’ right?”

  “No!” How could they thing she would be so unprofessional? Okay, so she might have had the occasional fantasy… “I swear, he’s never touched me!”

  Ed made a rude, disbelieving noise. “Yeah, right.”

  “Hold on.” Seth gave her a long, considering look that made her skin crawl. “I think she’s actually telling the truth.”

  “I am.” She wished they would go away, or that her own crewmates would come. She let her hair fall forward, hiding her face. “You can believe me or not.”

  “Huh. That would explain why Boy Scout’s been stalking around like a bear with a hangover,” Ernie said. “The guy’s nuts must be about to explode.”

  “No kidding.” Seth propped one elbow on the table, angling his body toward her. “So why are you teasing your boss, princess? Not that I’m complaining. You frigid or something?”

  She had to do something to distract herself from how close he was. Her hands wanted to flap, but that would have been a dead giveaway. In desperation, she wound a lock of her hair around her finger, concentrating on the silky texture.

  “I’m not teasing him.” Her voice had gone high and breathless. She always hated the way she sounded like a little girl when she was mad, but she couldn’t help it. “And I’m not frigid. I like sex just fine.”

  The slight tug against her scalp calmed her a little. It was an old stim, one of the few she’d been able to get away with in front of school teachers who insisted on ‘quiet hands’ in their classrooms. It gave her space to think again.

  “Let’s not talk about Rory.” She’d gone too long without initiating eye contact. She made herself peep up at him through lowered eyelashes, just to be polite. “I’d rather talk about you.”

  It was her last-ditch secret weapon, the one that she only pulled out when a conversation was becoming unbearable. Most people loved to talk about themselves. Especially men.

  “Me?” Seth said. He looked more startled than flattered. “What about me?”

  “Well, I’d like to get to know you better.” Twirl, twirl, concentrate on soft-silk-slip and scalp-tug-tingle. She managed to lever her lips into a smile. “You’re a squad boss, after all, one of the most important men on the crew. How many seasons have you worked?”

  She breathed out a silent prayer of thanks as he took the bait at last. She didn’t bother to listen to his answer. She nodded and looked impressed and made the occasional encouraging little noise, and Seth did all the rest. She was bored out of her skull, but at least he wasn’t needling her any more.

  In fact, he seemed to be loosening up. His smile grew broader and bolder the longer he monologued. A couple of times he even brushed against her shoulder or arm, as casually as if they were close friends. Edith tolerated it with gritted teeth, trying not to give any hint of distaste. That would have been terribly rude, and Rory had been very clear that no one should provoke Seth.

  Rory, she thought as Seth’s knee bumped against hers yet again, you had better appreciate this.

  Chapter 20

  “Huh.” Rory nudged the dead hawk with the toe of his boot. “Is it just me, or was that weirdly anticlimactic?”

  There was no doubt that it was the right animal. The cursed thing had led him and Callum on a dizzying chase through the sky, evading every attack no matter how they’d tried to pin it between them. It had ducked through ravines and made clever fake feints with an intelligence that no normal hawk possessed.

  And then, just when it was almost between his claws at last, it had swooped down low, taking cover under the tree canopy…and apparently dropped dead of its own accord.

  “Are you sure you didn’t get it?” he asked Fenrir.

  The hellhound’s tongue was lolling out nearly to his knees, his black sides heaving. He’d followed them on the ground, ready to catch the creature if it sought cover. *Wish could claim this kill, Birdcat. But found it like this. Dead meat.*

  Rory gingerly poked the sad pile of feathers again. His griffin was radiating smugness, pleased by the successful hunt, but he didn’t share its satisfaction.

  He’d been trying to capture the animal, not kill it. It wasn’t just a matter of hoping to learn more about it, and its connection—if any—to the lightning-creature. No matter how suspiciously it had been acting over the past week, it hadn’t actually done anything to them, after all.

  “Maybe it hit a tree during that last dive,” he said, feeling guilty.

  Callum hunkered down next to the body. He turned the hawk over with his bare hands
without the slightest hint of hesitation. His face showed only cool curiosity as he manipulated the limp head.

  “Neck’s not broken,” he reported. “But there’s blood on the beak.”

  “Not mine.” The hawk had snapped at him a few times, when he’d come within reach, but hadn’t managed to mark him. “It didn’t get you, did it?”

  Callum shook his head. He bent closer over the hawk, his eyes narrowing even further. “Odd. Look at this.”

  A rustle in the undergrowth interrupted them. They all tensed, but it was only Blaise and Joe, pushing their way through the bushes. They were both out of breath and grumpy-looking.

  “Good. You got it.” Blaise pulled her clammy t-shirt away from her stomach, flapping it to cool down. “Did you have to chase that thing through every damn bramble-patch on this stupid mountain?”

  “We didn’t exactly get it.” Rory raised an eyebrow at her. “And you could have flown, you know.”

  “I couldn’t have.” Joe scrubbed a hand through his curly blue-black hair, bits of leaf and twig showering down on his broad shoulders. “Next time you decide to chase something, Rory, please make it a fish. Or a beautiful woman. Something that plays to my strengths.”

  “I hope there won’t be a next time,” Rory said. “Though I have a nagging instinct this isn’t over yet. That was too easy.”

  Blaise shot him a dark look, still panting. “Speak for yourself.”

  Fenrir, who’d been sniffing at the dead bird, suddenly jerked his head up. He sprang away, erupting into ear-splitting barks. Callum instantly shifted into his pegasus form, his spread wings accidentally bowling over Blaise and clipping Joe round the ear.

  Rory reached for his griffin, ready to shift himself. “What is it?”

  Fenrir danced stiff-legged at the base of a tree. *Squirrel!*

  Rory sighed, letting his animal sink back. “Not again. Is there anything important about this squirrel, Fenrir?”

  *Yes.* Fenrir sank back to his haunches, quivering with eagerness. His blazing eyes stared intently up into the leaves. *Is squirrel.*