Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  Fire engulfed the forest. He cupped his wings to catch the rising heat, soaring safely out of reach of the licking flames. Trees lit up like matches, the fire leaping from branch to branch in the blink of an eye.

  Edith tugged on his feathers. “Rory. Look.”

  She wasn’t staring down at the spreading devastation. From her posture, he could tell that her attention was fixed on something behind them. He banked, circling.

  Trailing tattered veils of cloud, a vast shape soared away from the raging wildfire. It had a condor’s broad wings and a heavy, hooked beak. Odd, angular patterns marked the storm-grey feathers like tribal tattoos, seething with electric white light.

  “I know what it is,” Edith whispered. Her voice shook with awe. “It’s a Thunderbird.”

  Chapter 37

  “I don’t care if it’s the motherloving Easter Bunny!” Rory had never seen Buck so furious. “You go after that monster and kill it! Right now!”

  “Chief, it’s long gone.” Rory kept his own voice calm. “There was no way Callum and I could keep up with it while carrying everyone else.”

  Buck’s fists were clenched so hard, Rory could see them shaking at his side. “Then you should have ditched the others. You took it on by yourself before.”

  Rory shook his head. “If I try to fight it without support, I’ll just get myself killed. It’s stronger than me. I’m pretty sure it was holding back the previous times I’ve faced it. On some level, it didn’t really want to hurt me.”

  “Well it damn well wants to hurt other people,” Buck snarled. “It’s killed people.”

  “I know,” Rory said grimly. “And I promise we’ll work out a way to stop it. But right now, we have to stop this fire, before it claims any lives. It’s going to take all of us to get it under control.”

  For a moment, Rory thought Buck might actually hit him. He braced himself, lifting his chin and meeting the chief’s eyes steadily.

  With a muttered curse, Buck lowered his fist, turning away. He clapped his hands together, attracting the attention of the rest of the crew.

  “Listen up, boys and girls!” Buck jumped up into a fallen trunk, where they could all see him. “Situation’s changed up top, and our lives are about to get a whole lot more interesting.”

  Tanner frowned, looking around at the crew as they gathered around Buck. “Where’s Seth?”

  “Didn’t make it,” Buck said curtly. “And if we’re all not going to go the same way, we’re going to have to move fast. So pay attention.”

  Every eye fixed on him…except for Edith’s. She appeared to be totally focused on the pebble between her palms.

  Buck scowled at her. “Am I boring you, Edith?”

  “No, chief.” Edith didn’t raise her head. “I can either pay attention, or I can look at you and get distracted by every twitch of your face. I’m autistic.”

  Buck hesitated fractionally. Then he grunted.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “Okay, crew. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

  “We have reached a new low,” Blaise announced out of the darkness. “This is awful.”

  “I didn’t think anything could be worse than the brisket.” Joe’s voice drifted mournfully from further down the line. “I was mistaken. I just put peanut butter all over my so-called chicken noodles. I thought it was going to be hot sauce.”

  “Did it improve the flavor?” Wystan asked hopefully, from somewhere over to Edith’s right.

  “Not even slightly. Fenrir, what have you got over there?”

  *Frog.* Muffled crunching sounds emanated from the hellhound’s direction. *Not sharing.*

  Rory was a solid warmth against her side. His shoulder brushed against hers as he heaved a sigh.

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t tell me you’d actually prefer a raw frog.”

  “No.” It was so dark, even sitting right next to him she could barely make out the curve of his smile. “I was just thinking about the time you brought us all beans. Remember that?”

  There was a moment of reverent silence, as though the entire squad was gazing at some sacred, shining vision.

  Blaise let out a low moan. “I would kill for some beans right now.”

  Edith didn’t disagree. Abandoning the last of her rubbery, chemical-infused ration, she leaned against Rory instead. Even sweaty and covered in mud, he still managed to smell good.

  He stroked stray tendrils of hair back from her face, tucking them behind her ear. His voice dropped to a deep, gentle rumble, pitched for her alone. “Okay?”

  “You’re the one who had a giant snake inside his skin earlier today.” She nestled into the hollow of his shoulder. “And then worked fourteen hours straight cutting line. Are you okay?”

  He chuckled ruefully. “I’m about ready to faceplant in the dirt. But at least we stopped the fire from getting to the town.”

  His satisfaction glowed in her heart, echoing her own. She smiled, then had to fight back a yawn. “Still got a lot to mop up.”

  His lips brushed the top of her head. “Other ground crews are coming in. Together, we’ll get it contained. Buck’s going to make sure we stay on this one to the end.”

  “In case the Thunderbird comes back?” She felt him nod. “Do you think it will?”

  He was silent for a moment, gazing up at the smoke-shrouded stars. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But I don’t really have a clue what it wants. I don’t understand why it set fire to the forest when its enemy was already dead.”

  She found his hand in the dark. “We’re going to have to face it again sometime, aren’t we.”

  He let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to hurt it. But Buck’s right. We can’t let it hurt people.”

  She squeezed his fingers warningly. “Just as long as you don’t get any silly ideas about going after it alone.”

  He bent his head to kiss her. “Never,” he murmured against her lips. “I know where my strength lies.”

  His mouth tasted of smoke. Despite her exhaustion, fire lit in her blood. She curved her hands around the back of his neck, drawing him down deeper.

  Wystan cleared his throat. “We are all keeping alert for spot fires, aren’t we—ow! Who threw that?”

  “Sorry,” Blaise said, sounding not at all sorry. “Just clearing debris off the line. Didn’t know you were over there. And there’s no need for everyone to keep watch. I’ll yell if I sense anything flaring up.”

  Rory’s radio buzzed. He drew back from her at last, untangling himself enough to unhook it from his belt. She overheard him exchange a few quiet words with Buck.

  “Good news, squad,” Rory announced, clicking the radio off again. “Our relief shift has arrived. Another crew is hiking up to take over for the night. Buck says to make scratch camp and get some sleep.”

  “Oh, thank the tides.” Joe paused, his voice turning dismayed. “Wait, scratch camp? Here?”

  “We’re going to pick back up at dawn. We have to stay in the area.” Rory got up, pulling her to her own feet. “Fenrir, can you find us a good spot?”

  *Yes. Pack follow. Will lead to soft grass, good hunting.* Fenrir’s red eyes glowed in the night like beacons. *Many frogs.*

  “Camping under the stars,” Joe said gloomily. “Yay. If I’d been you, Edith, I would have stayed up in that fire lookout tower. At least you had a bed up there. And beans.”

  “And a bath,” Edith said, grinning. “Well, a bucket, at least. Of cold water.”

  “A bucket.” Joe made a pained sound. “Of cold water. Stop tormenting us by speaking of such unimaginable luxuries. I might cry.”

  Rory’s low laugh rumbled through her chest. His arm tightened around her shoulders.

  “Hope you aren’t regretting your life choices,” he murmured into her ear.

  She was filthier than she’d ever thought it was possible to be. Every inch of her skin was black with soot. She was so tired she could have happily curled up right there on the bare earth and slept for a week.
Her feet hurt, her lips were cracked, and the self-heating ready-to-eat meal had been utterly disgusting.

  She snuggled closer to her mate. “Not in the slightest.”

  Epilogue

  The roar of the helicopter vibrated his bones. His griffin yowled disconsolately in his mind, tail lashing at the tooth-rattling din.

  Sorry, Rory said silently to his animal. We can’t always fly ourselves.

  He glanced around, checking on the rest of his squad. Most of them had strained, faraway expressions as they coped with their own agitated beasts. A shifter’s wild nature generally didn’t mix well with man-made forms of air transport.

  Edith looked positively relaxed by comparison. She had her big headphones on, completely covering her ears, as she usually did when they travelled. She rocked in time with her music, hands fluttering gently.

  Over the past few months, he’d learned to read the infinite subtleties of her ever-dancing hands. She was excited and on edge, but not distressed.

  Of course, he didn’t need her hands to tell him that. The mate bond glowed in his soul, sparkling like a diamond in the sun. He reached out to her, just because he could.

  She didn’t look round, but her head tilted. Her soul interwove through his. The private intimacy of that union never failed to take his breath away.

  The intoxicating closeness of her soul reminded him of other forms of closeness that they’d shared recently. They’d had a whole three days of leave in between assignments. They’d scarcely left their bed the entire time. Three glorious days and nights treasuring her body, worshipping his mate…

  He shifted position in his seat, surreptitiously tugging his turn out jacket lower.

  Edith’s bemused laughter rippled in his mind. *Even after three entire days? Haven’t you had enough yet?*

  “Of you?” he breathed back. He let the effect she had on him fill his heart. “Never.”

  She caught her lip between her teeth, cheeks pinking delightfully as his desire rippled down the mate bond. She tried to give him a stern look, which was completely belied by the way her own body was responding.

  *Stop that,* she said, not entirely convincingly. *We’re working.*

  His own grin widened, but he desisted. They were working. Though maybe if they weren’t too tired after their shift, they could find some secluded glade…

  Wystan, who was sitting opposite them, cast him a faintly pained look. Rory shrugged at him, mouthing sorry. He didn’t want to cause the unicorn shifter discomfort, but it wasn’t his fault he had such a sexy mate.

  Blaise let out a low whistle. She had her forehead pressed to the small window, hands cupped against the glass. “Wow. Will you look at that.”

  Rory leaned past Edith, peering out himself.

  On second thought, they probably weren’t going to be finding a nice private glade anytime soon.

  As far as the eye could see, the land burned. Vast swathes of the Californian forest were actively ablaze, fire crowning the trees. Ugly, barren lines like rough roads cut through the once-pristine wilderness, from bulldozers desperately trying to halt the advance. Even as he watched, a tendril of fire probed at a trench, finding just enough uncleared fuel to snake across to the other side.

  “Big,” was Callum’s only comment.

  “Big is an understatement,” Wystan said, looking pale. “The word ‘apocalyptic’ springs to mind.”

  “That’s why we’re here.” Rory said, sitting back again. “At least we have plenty of help. There are hundreds of crews battling this thing. We just have to deal with our little bit.”

  “The hottest bit,” Joe said. “Why couldn’t we deal with the bit near a beach? Or at least near a nice town well-stocked with bars and admiring ladies?”

  “I’ll make sure to pass on your preferences to Buck.” Rory grabbed hold of a strap as the helicopter lurched. “Looks like we’re here. Let’s go, team.”

  The helicopter hovered, not quite touching down. Along with the rest of the crew, they scrambled to grab their gear and jump down to the ground. Their transport didn’t wait around, immediately lifting back into the sky to go and get the next crew.

  “All right boys and girls!” Buck called as the helicopter thudded away. “Welcome to the Harley Fire, spike camp 15B. This is the biggest assignment most of you’ve seen yet, so stay tight and don’t get lost. I’m going to go see what’s what. Try not to break any limbs or start any fights or seduce anyone’s girl for five whole minutes, Joe. Sit. Stay.”

  “She wasn’t someone’s girl, she was a grown-ass woman who was delightfully clear about what she wanted,” Joe muttered as Buck stalked away. “That guy was just a possessive douchebro. And it only happened one time.”

  “So far,” Wystan murmured.

  Rory abruptly felt Edith tense. Her hands flurried. She clamped them to her sides, forcibly stilling them in a way he hadn’t seen her do for months.

  “Edith?” he asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  She was staring across the wide, bulldozer-razed clearing. Another crew was lounging on the fresh-cut stumps, backpacks piled at their feet, clearly waiting for their own Superintendent to come back from the command meeting.

  “You remember my previous crew? The one that fired me?” She jerked her chin, face pale under her freckles. “That’s them.”

  At her side, Fenrir growled. *Courage, Stone Bitch. Have pack of your own, now. Show them your teeth.*

  The other crew had noticed them as well. From their equipment, they were Type 2 hand crew, not hotshots—not qualified to run chainsaws or work the hottest part of the fire. A few of the men straightened. There was suddenly a lot more flexing going on.

  Blaise rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

  A big, burly man wandered over. From the markings on the helmet tucked under his arm, he was a squad boss too. Clearly recognizing Rory as his counterpart, he gave him a cautious but not unfriendly nod.

  “Hotshots, huh?” he said with respect. He offered his hand. “I guess we’ll be following you today.”

  Edith had sidled out of sight behind him. Rory clasped the other man’s hand firmly, looking him straight in the eye.

  “We’ll clear the way for you,” he said. “Hope you can keep up.”

  “Oh, my squad are good. Strong men, real men, one and all.” His gaze flicked over Rory’s crew t-shirt. “Hey, Thunder Mountain! You’re out of Montana, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “We’re from there too.” The man hesitated. “Say…you guys hiring?”

  “Not mid-season,” Rory said. “Maybe next year. Why?”

  “Always wanted to be a hotshot.” The man glanced back at his own crew, his voice dropping. He tapped his wallet pocket meaningfully. “If there’s anything I can do to, you know, get you to put in a good word for me with your chief…you get my drift?”

  “You can put in an application like anyone else,” Rory said coolly. “But I have to warn you, we only take the best.”

  Deliberately, he moved to one side, turning.

  “Edith,” he said in a loud voice that carried across the clearing. “You’re on saw today.”

  Since it was a big, multi-crew assignment, they’d all labeled their helmets. STONE stood out stark and clear as she raised her head proudly.

  “Sure thing, Rory,” she said, without so much as a glance at her old boss or crew. “I’ll go sort out the gear.”

  The other man’s jaw had dropped. “E-Edith?” he stuttered. “Edith Stone?”

  She gave him a cheery, dismissive wave. Her fingers rippled with silent laughter as she strode off, hips swinging.

  Her old boss stared after her, eyes round with shock. “That—that was Edith Stone. You, uh…you do know what she is, right?”

  “Yes.” Rory settled his own helmet onto his head. “The best firefighter on my squad.”

  “His face,” Blaise said yet again. She giggled, clinking water bottles with Edith as if making a toast. “Oh man. I wish I’d been in t
ime to get a picture. That was epic.”

  Edith grinned. “Was he very jealous?”

  “Sick as a dog,” Blaise assured her. “Uh, no offence, Fenrir.”

  The hellhound, who was flopped in the shade with his tongue hanging out, waved his tail in a lazy wag.

  “And we left them in the dust,” Wystan said with deep satisfaction. He shaded his eyes, looking back down the hill. “They’re still a good half mile back, by my reckoning.”

  Callum shrugged. “Only human.”

  “Hey!” Edith tossed a twig at him in playful mock-outrage. “What do you think I am?”

  Callum’s mouth curled up fractionally. “One of us.”

  They all looked up as Rory’s shadow fell over them. He clipped his radio back to his belt, frowning.

  “Break time’s over, team,” he said. “That was Buck. Control needs us to split here. There are two teams already working east and west over here. We’re going to go reinforce one of them, and Tanner will take B and C squads to help the other.”

  “So which way are we going?” Blaise asked.

  “Up to us. Tanner says he doesn’t mind, so the choice is ours.” Rory rubbed the back of his neck, scanning the dry, scrubby forest around them. “Anyone got a preference?”

  Edith shook her head along with the others. Or, she realized, most of the others. Joe, who’d been splashing water over his head to cool down, had gone still. He stared intently down into his cupped palm.

  “Joe?” she asked. “Something up?”

  He jerked as though she’d startled him. “No. Nothing. West. We should go west.”

  Blaise huffed, shaking her head. “Of course you want the path that goes downhill.”

  “Yeah.” Joe flicked water from his hand, his customary grin reappearing. “You know me. Anything for an easy life.”

  “West it is then.” Rory shouldered his Pulaski. “Let’s go.”

  They fell into line, hiking through the bone-dry undergrowth. Dust puffed up under Edith’s boots. Her legs fell into easy, enjoyable rhythm, following Rory.