Feline the Flames (The Firehouse Feline Book 2)

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Feline the Flames (The Firehouse Feline Book 2) Page 12

by L. A. Boruff


  I hope.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Will

  I finish long before the others do. Hank says I eat quickly because I know what it feels like to be hungry, but I always tell him he’s an idiot, even though I’m sure he’s probably right. Still, I don’t set the empty plastic container onto the coffee table until everyone else does.

  Callie sighs and places a hand on her stomach, her eyes half-closed and content.

  We’re all on the floor, leaning back against various furniture. And I was quick enough to snag the spot next to Callie. Despite the dirty looks James and Hank shot my way several times during the meal, it’s completely worth it when she leans to the side, resting her head on my shoulder.

  I rub the stubble on my chin against the top of her head and feel an unbelievable wave of contentment. Is this what it feels like to care about someone who isn’t toxic? I’m pretty sure it is.

  My thoughts are cut short by a knock at the door.

  Hank rises, checks through the peephole, and unlocks and opens the door. Sugar comes in, a strained expression on her face, before she drops the three duffle bags on the floor.

  “Brought you guys clothes and stuff.”

  “How sweet,” I say in a syrupy tone of voice.

  She shoots me a dirty look. “It isn’t for you. It’s so Callie didn’t have to keep smelling your nasty old clothes.”

  I grin at her, and her annoyed look melts away with an eye roll.

  “I think we smell fine,” James responds, sniffing his clothes.

  Callie moves away from me. “Actually, the three of you are welcome to use my shower.”

  “Subtle,” I tell her.

  She laughs. “I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate all of you.”

  “Just that you’re tired of our stink?” I say.

  She bumps me with her shoulder, and I love the sparkle in her eyes.

  “I guess I’ll go first,” I tell her, then spring to my feet.

  Grabbing my duffle bag, I head up the stairs.

  Hank shouts after me. “Don’t use all the hot water!”

  I look back and grin.

  “Don’t do it,” he threatens, as if I can’t heat the water in the heater in a second.

  I laugh and head into the bathroom. We both know the rule. You snooze, you lose.

  Taking a fast shower—even though I have to use Callie’s girly-smelling soaps and shampoos—is just what I needed. After drying off, I pull on fresh clothes, giving a silent thanks for all the outfits Sugar stuffed in the bag for me. Then, I head down stairs feeling refreshed.

  Hank is on his feet and heading up the stairs with his bag before James can blink an eye.

  “Feel better?” Sugar asks.

  “Yeah,” I tell her, then add. “Thanks for the clothes.”

  James and Callie gather all our breakfast containers and head to the kitchen, and I sit down on the couch, feeling useless as I turn to look at Sugar. But instantly, my boredom fades away. Sugar’s leg is jiggling. Her fingers are tapping her thigh.

  She’s nervous. And hell, Sugar is never nervous.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Her entire body tenses, freezing all her agitated movements. “Nothing.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Of course I’m sure.”

  I sign, leaning back. “Now, how about you tell me something I’ll believe.”

  Slowly, her brown eyes meet mine. “I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “Tell me and I’ll decide,” I tell her, using the same no-nonsense voice I use when talking to people who need my help.

  Her expression seems uncertain, until she sighs, and reaches for her back pocket. “Fine, you figure out how to handle this.”

  I’m confused when she presses a folded envelope in my hands. Opening it slowly, I instantly recognize the stupid stationery of the asshole king. But it’s the greeting that makes my heart race.

  Dear Imposter,

  It seems you’ve been a very bad girl. I’ve done some research and learned that you’re a human who has taken far too much of an interest in the paranormal world. Not something I enjoy in one of your kind, but it isn’t exactly a crime. However, impersonating a royal of the witch court is a crime, and one with consequences.

  Unfortunately, it has also come to my attention that you’ve corrupted the minds of not only three young wizards and mages, but also some of my people who are old enough to know better. This treason will not be tolerated.

  Therefore, I will give you a choice: turn yourself into me and face the consequences, or continue hiding like a coward. If you do not turn yourself over, I will punish all those foolish enough to believe your lies.

  The choice is yours.

  Signed,

  King Robert

  I close the note slowly as my stomach twists around my breakfast. This isn’t good. Not good at all. Callie doesn’t know the king like we do. If she reads this note, she might actually think he’ll spare all of us if she turns herself into him.

  But he won’t. He’ll just kill her and all of us. And probably a few extra people to boot.

  The most frightening thing, however, is that he has to believe there’s some truth to her being the heir to the throne, or he wouldn’t have bothered with the note. The fact that he sent it means he’s worried. And King Robert is especially dangerous when he feels out of control.

  “Where did you find this?” I ask.

  Sugar sighs loudly. “Taped to the firehouse door.”

  I nod and stand, then move to the fireplace, holding the note just above the flames. “We can never let Callie know about this. Understand? She could be foolish enough to--”

  “What can’t you let me know about?”

  Damn it.

  I stiffen and turn my head to see Callie and James standing in the doorway. Her gaze moves to the letter in my hand, and I look to James to see the confusion in his face.

  Moving the letter slightly closer to the fire, I try to keep my voice steady. “Nothing.”

  Some unnamed emotions flashes across her face. “Give that to me.”

  “No,” I say. “Please trust me.”

  She draws herself up taller. “I am not an idiot or a child. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

  Anger rises within me. “You don’t know the fucking basics about our world. What makes you so damned certain you can handle this?”

  “The fact that you’re taking a decision away from me means you don’t see me as your equal. You see me as some kind of child who needs you to protect me.”

  I glare. “Well, if the shoe fits…”

  “Fuck,” James mutters.

  But I don’t look at him. My gaze stays trained on Callie.

  I expect her to scream or shout or demand the letter, but instead, a deep look of hurt comes over her face. “And here I thought you and I had made some progress. But I guess I was wrong.”

  All my anger falls away. “Callie--”

  She gives a sharp shake of her head. “Do whatever you want, Will. It’s clear to me that’s what you’re accustomed to doing.”

  When she turns and marches back to the kitchen, I scramble after her, ignoring the irritated look James sends my way. “Wait!”

  She keeps walking, undoing the locks on the back door and rushing outside.

  I catch her arm when she’s halfway across the grass. “I want to spare you pain.”

  She whirls around. “Congrats on that plan! Worked like a charm.”

  My heart races as I hold out the letter to you. “It’s all bullshit meant to hurt you.”

  Without hesitation, she snatches it from my hand and opens it up. Her expression slowly melts away, and she pales as her eyes skim over the words. At last, the hand holding the letter drops to her side, and her stunning blue eyes lock onto mine.

  “I can’t let people get hurt for me.”

  This was exactly what I was afraid of. “It’s all lies. Any of us found helping you will die, one way
or another, if he catches us. Do you understand? As nice as it would be to be some hero in a book, able to sweep in and sacrifice yourself for everyone around you, that’s not how real life works. Sometimes, the bad guy is going to do the wrong thing, no matter what, and the best thing you can do for everyone around you is to stay alive.”

  She nibbles her lip. “You swear it to me?”

  I clasp her wrist that holds the letter. “I swear. A long time ago, the king told me he’d spare my girlfriend’s life if I agreed to join him and swear allegiance to him. I planned to do just that. I would’ve done anything to save her. Then I found out she was already dead.” I take a deep breath that hurts my whole chest. “People are going to die. This is a war. We just have to be smarter than our opponent.”

  At last, Callie nods. “Okay. I’ll ignore it.”

  I’m so relieved that I draw her into my arms, then feel immense satisfaction when she presses herself against me, exhaling slowly. Something about a woman as soft and as strong as Callie trusting me like this makes me feel like another person. A better person. And that alone makes me want to try harder.

  “Sorry I was going to decide for you, and that I reacted like a jackass.”

  She laughs against my chest. “It’s okay. You are a jackass, but a cute one.”

  When she looks up at me, her lips curled into a smile, I can’t stop staring. And when her smile melts away, and her breath quickens, my gaze sweeps over her, loving the little pair of pajamas she wears, especially the way it’s obvious in the morning air that she’s not wearing a bra.

  “Is it cold out?” I ask.

  She smacks my chest. “Pervert!”

  I grin. “Please, I see the way you look at me in my uniform.”

  To my surprise, she doesn’t argue. “I have to admit, I’ve always had a thing for men in uniforms. But you guys? You guys should make a freaking calendar for me when all of this is over.”

  Kissing her until she sags, I pull back, panting. “Yes, ma’am!”

  She strokes the muscles of my chest. “So, what now?”

  “I could take you against the side of the house and--”

  Her cheeks turn red. “No, I mean what do we do with the king and my powers?”

  “We have a plan. People we trust that we’ll gather together to try to break the spell.”

  She smiles. “So we have to wait for them to finish showering and then get people together? Then we might have time for—”

  Suddenly, her eyes get wide.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart speeding up.

  She pushes me away.

  I turn back to the house to yell for help when I hear the unmistakable meow of a cat. Turning back, a cat shakes itself out of Callie’s clothes, then stares at me with innocent eyes.

  “Damn it,” I mutter as I reach down.

  The cat comes forward, and I pet her gently. Right now is not the time she should be racing around town. And yet, I’m not exactly used to catching cats.

  Taking a deep breath, I draw Cat-Callie into my arms.

  She snarls, and I suck in a deep breath as the sting of nails claw my arm. I’m racing for the back door, then have to juggle her in one hand to open the door. Nails slice into my cheek, but I bite down, slamming the door behind me. Callie, the cat, hisses in my arms, and a freshly-showered Hank runs in.

  “What the hell?”

  “Are all the windows shut?” I ask, trying to keep a hold of the cat as she thrashes in my arms.

  “I’ll go check!” he says, then takes off.

  I’m able to hold her for a few more seconds before she bites down on my hand. I cry out, and she breaks free, racing into the living room.

  I take off after her, hoping like hell all the windows are shut. Hank is starting up the stairs, while I scan to be sure all the windows are closed and locked. Callie takes off after him up the stairs, and I’m relieved when I realize that she’s trapped.

  “Man,” I say, putting my hands on my knees and taking deep breaths. “She’s a fighter.”

  Hank laughs as he walks down the stairs. “And it looks like she won.”

  I stand up straight, glaring at him. “Hey, at least I got her inside.”

  His amusement fades away as we watch Callie stare down at us from the top of the stairs. “What now?”

  “Now, we focus on getting the witches together and hope like hell she’s herself again by then.”

  Cat-Callie disappears around the staircase toward her bedroom.

  A second later, James pokes a wet head out of the bathroom door. “What’s all the commotion?”

  “Callie’s a cat,” Hank says, as if that explains everything.

  James looks at me. “You need some first aid, mate.”

  I lift a hand to touch my cheek, pulling away my fingers to see them covered in blood. “Freaking cats.”

  I barely hear a certain angry feline hissing from upstairs.

  James laughs.

  “Go back and enjoy your ice-cold shower,” I mutter at him.

  He lifts a brow, then ducks back into the bathroom. Oh yeah. He can heat the water.

  “So,” Hank draws out the word. “I’ll make some calls, and you’ll clean up.”

  I turn and walk toward the kitchen. “Freaking cats.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Callie

  My cheek is stuck to my hardwood floor. I learned years ago to put my bed on risers. When my cat is scared, she likes to sleep under the bed, and waking up under a bed that's very close to the ground isn't a great experience.

  Another thing I learned years ago was to keep the underside of my furniture swept clean. Unfortunately, I haven't had time to do it in a week or two. I blow a dust bunny away and sigh.

  A set of boots walks into the room and up to the bed. "Hey, pretty lady." James drops to his knees beside the bed. "Back to normal?"

  I nod, rubbing my ear against the floor. He holds his hand out for me to grab. I take the offered help, and he pulls me out from under the bed so I can climb to my feet. A gentleman through and through, he reaches over with his eyes averted and picks up my robe from the foot of the bed. I know I left it hanging on the back of the bathroom door, so he was thinking of me when he placed it there. How sweet.

  "Thank you." I brush myself off and put the robe on. "Okay. I'm covered."

  James's eyes flicker to my chest, where my nipples protrude from under the thin robe. To his credit, his cheeks redden, and he quickly jerks his gaze up again. "You may want to get dressed." He walks to the door and clears his throat. "We called in reinforcements for the spell and they're all here now. Your cat turning back is actually perfect timing. I was coming up to see if you were you yet."

  "How long was I out?" I'm almost afraid to ask.

  “About four hours. It gave everyone enough time to gather." He shuts the door behind him.

  I should hurry, I know, but I plop down onto the bed instead. We're going to try to unlock my power again, and I'm no longer sure it's the right thing to do. If I stay human, will that keep everyone safer? Well, human and cat.

  Oh. My cat. Will unlocking my power somehow destroy her? I'm not sure I want that as much as I’ve complained about her. She's part of me, like an irritating parent I wouldn’t trade for the world. She's somehow me and my pet at the same time, which is so odd, but it is what it is.

  Can I do this if it means losing her? My heart races at the thought.

  These questions burn in my mind as I dress in yoga pants and a long tee. I pull on thick socks and walk out of my bedroom. I hear lots of talking and laughter downstairs, but joining them feels like an insurmountable task. As eager as I am, my anxiety rears its ugly head.

  As if I call him, Hank's face appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You okay?" he says.

  I nod my head, and the sight of his supportive, handsome face is all I need to put one foot in front of the other and go down to him. "Overwhelmed," I whisper as I reach the bottom, and he envelopes me into his arms.

&
nbsp; "That's understandable." He kisses the top of my head. "This is a lot to take in. Once we unlock your powers, we may have to help you control them, depending on their strength. You haven't spent your life learning to master them, so you'll have to learn fast and need help."

  "There's something I'm worried about," I whisper. Looking up into his eyes, I let the concern show in mine.

  "What?" He rubs his hands up and down my arms. "Whatever it is, I'll do my best to fix it."

  I look over his shoulder and see my living room crammed full of people. "There's nothing we can do, and I doubt anyone knows the answer."

  He tweaks my chin with the tip of his finger. "Tell me."

  I take a deep breath, then let the words come tumbling out. "Now that I'm faced with it, I'm not sure I want to lose my cat. Yeah, I hate shifting at random, but—and don’t tell her this—I love her.”

  Hank looks uncertain. He doesn’t have the answers either.

  Fran comes around the corner of the living room. “Everything okay?”

  Hank glances at me, and I nod, then he looks back at her. “She’s worried about losing her cat. Cat side, or whatever.”

  The older woman’s expression softens. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you something to make this easier, but it's very likely your cat side will go away. Absorb into you and become a part of you."

  I’ll actually lose her? My throat tightens. Memories come back to me of all the trouble my cat and I had gotten into together. As much as I resented her at times, she was the one constant in my life. And there were definitely moments when her shifting protected me.

  I just hated not being in control of it. I’m always worried I’ll never have a real life as a freak who constantly disappears. But this isn’t what I always imagined. I’d always felt that she and I were somehow separate entities, even when we were one. So I never really considered that gaining my freedom would end her life.

  This felt wrong, in every way. And yet, if all of this stuff about the witch world is true, a lot of people will die if I can’t do this. People who put themselves out to help me.

 

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