Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  In no more than five miles, they heard saws working ahead. The ever-present smoke grew thicker. Ominous crackles undercut the roar of the chainsaws. Orange light flickered through the trees.

  A full crew was already working on extending a fireline, racing the oncoming fire. The woman at the front looked up as they approached, powering down her chainsaw.

  “Are we ever glad to see you,” she said, pushing her safety helmet up her sweaty forehead. “We need all the help we can get to beat this thing.”

  Rory smacked palms with her, nodding. “Glad to be here. Where do you want us?”

  She pointed. “There’s a hellish tangle that way. If you could get through it, I’d be grateful. Which one of you is Animal Rescue?”

  They all exchanged puzzled glances.

  “Uh, none of us,” Rory said, blinking. “Why?”

  The woman swore colorfully. “There’s a baby deer or something hiding in there. I think it’s hurt. None of us have been able to coax it out. I called it in two hours ago. Those incompetent idiots at Control promised they were sending someone.”

  “Well, we might be able to help anyway.” Edith could feel from the mate bond that Rory was stifling a grin. “We’re pretty good with animals.”

  The woman swept her hand round in an inviting gesture. “Be my guest. The poor thing has been crying for its mother for hours. It’s been breaking all our hearts.”

  Rory cocked an eyebrow round at them all as the woman rejoined her crew. “Huh. Just as well we came this way. Well, let’s see what we can do. Fenrir, you’d better hang back a bit.”

  The hellhound grumbled, but lay down. The rest of them tagged along at Rory’s heels. The ‘tangle’ that the woman had indicated was a solid wall of brambles with wicked, two-inch thorns. Rory crouched, trying to peer through it.

  “Callum?” he asked. “Sense anything?”

  Callum’s eyebrows drew down. “Yes. But it’s…odd.”

  A soft, plaintive call came from the heart of the thicket.

  “Oh, poor thing,” Edith exclaimed. “Whatever it is, it’s just a baby.”

  “I think I see how it got in there.” Rory pressed even closer to the ground. “None of us are going to be able to fit through, though.”

  Wystan was already unslinging his medical kit. “If we fire up the saw, we’ll terrify it. It could hurt itself even further. Can you call it out, Rory?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Rory dropped his voice into a soft, gentle purr. “It’s all right, little one. We won’t hurt you.”

  There was a pause. The strange, chirping call came again, sounding uncertain.

  “That’s it.” Carefully, Rory reached into the brambles. He used the thick sleeve of his protective jacket to hold the cruel thorns back, widening the gap. “We’re friends. We want to help. Come out.”

  Brambles rustled. Slowly, tentatively, a white shape emerged.

  It wasn’t a deer.

  “Wystan,” Rory said, as they all stared at the trembling baby unicorn. “I think this one’s for you.”

  Wildfire Unicorn

  Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew 2

  Chapter 1

  Wystan Silver knew exactly how many unicorns there were in the world.

  Two.

  Well, technically three. If he included himself.

  His grandfather and father had both been happily mated for decades. He was absolutely certain that neither of them could be hiding a shameful secret. And as for himself…

  It was physically impossible for him to have left a surprise baby behind anywhere. Let alone in the middle of the north Californian wilderness, a place where he’d never been before.

  Which left him completely unable to explain the tiny unicorn hiding in the bushes.

  Rory, his firefighter squad leader, cocked a tawny eyebrow at him. “Something you want to tell us, Wys?”

  The rest of the hotshot crew were also staring at him with a combination of astonishment and expectation. Wystan pushed down a surge of irritation. They’d all grown up together. They knew the unfortunate, unique difficulties that unmated unicorn shifters faced. Did they really think this could have anything to do with him?

  “I’m afraid that I’m at as much as a loss as you are,” he said. Long habit made it easy to maintain a light, pleasant tone, not letting any of his true emotions show in his face or voice. “But in any event, an explanation isn’t our most pressing concern.”

  “No kidding.” Joe cast a worried glance over his massive shoulder at the other fire crews working a little way off. He moved so that his towering bulk blocked the baby unicorn from the humans’ view. “Try to look casual everyone.”

  The rest of the squad—Edith, Callum, and Blaise—closed ranks around Joe, forming a wall of yellow safety jackets. Wystan crouched down in their shadow, trying to get a better look at the creature trembling in the tangled thicket of thorns.

  “I can’t see any obvious injuries from here, but at the very least it’s in shock,” he said to Rory, who was also down on his hands and knees in the ash-flecked dirt. “Can you use your power to make it come out fully?”

  The griffin shifter shook his head. “It’s clearly scared. I don’t want to force it with the alpha voice unless we really have to. See if you can persuade it. You’re both the same kind of shifter, after all.”

  That was debatable, but Wystan didn’t have a better idea. He stripped off his thick work gloves.

  “It’s all right, little one.” He extended a bare hand toward the baby unicorn so that it could get his scent. “I’m here to help.”

  The unicorn backed away further, even though the sharp points of the thorns pressed cruelly into its shivering flanks. It was so tiny, about the size of a newborn fawn. Its blunt, stubby horn was shorter than his thumb. Had he ever been that small?

  No, his unicorn whispered. Something is wrong here.

  Wystan hardly needed his inner animal to tell him that. Even if unicorns had been a dime a dozen, no infant shifter should be found alone and scared on the edge of a raging wildfire. The haze of smoke in the air was getting thicker. They didn’t have much time to get the baby to safety.

  Which left him with only one option.

  Wystan grimaced. “A little space please, everyone.”

  Bowing his head, he closed his eyes…and shifted.

  Grace and strength filled him. As always, the illusion of power stabbed his heart. Even after a lifetime of bitter disappointment, some tiny part of him couldn’t help hoping.

  Maybe this time…

  He opened his eyes to find the baby unicorn staring up at him. The radiance from his horn bathed them both in silver light.

  He dipped his head. Tentatively, the other unicorn crept forward. It stretched out its own head, touching its stubby horn to his.

  Its mind brushed against his own, light as butterfly wings. No words; just a confused, flickering jumble of emotion and pictures. Fire, dark, fear, pain—and through the chaos, a rising hope. A mental image of something huge and protective, bright as the full moon, crowned with blazing power…

  It took him a moment to realize it was himself. Or at least, how the baby saw him.

  His heart twisted again. If only.

  Nonetheless, he sent back telepathic warmth and reassurance. *That’s right, little one. You’re safe now. I’ll protect you.*

  The baby gazed up at him with trusting lavender eyes.

  Then it collapsed.

  Rory was faster than he was. The griffin shifter lunged to catch the unicorn as its frail legs buckled. The tiny creature lay in his big hands, limp as a scarf.

  “Unconscious.” Rory looked more like a man holding a live bomb than a live baby. “It must have breathed in a lot of smoke while it was hiding from the fire. It needs help. Wystan, given the circumstances, perhaps if you try really hard…”

  Wystan was already reaching deep into his soul for his unicorn’s power. His horn glowed even brighter as he concentrated. Closing his eyes
, he touched the tip to the baby’s ash-streaked flank.

  You feel what needs fixing, his father had always tried to explain. You gather your strength, your will. And then you just…send it out.

  He could see his own silver light even through his closed eyelids. He drew on every scrap of will he possessed, jaw clenching so tight his head hurt. Silently, he begged whatever force might be listening for a miracle.

  Please. Just once. Just once, let me be able to heal…

  Nothing.

  Rory cleared his throat after a moment. “Never mind, Wys. Shouldn’t have asked. I think your hands would be more useful than your horn right now.”

  Wystan deflated like a punctured balloon, bright power leaking away. He let go of his own disappointment as well, bottling up the familiar bitter feeling of uselessness. There would be time to brood on his own inadequacies later.

  Right now, the baby needed his help. In whatever small way he could provide.

  He shrank back into his human form. “Right,” he said briskly, stripping off his protective jacket and spreading it out to cushion the ground. “Lay it down here so I can take a look.”

  “Her,” Edith corrected. She always noticed small details that others missed, one of the benefits of her autism. Her hands fluttered in the air, signaling her worry. “She’s a girl. Is she going to be okay, Wystan?”

  Wystan had never performed triage on an animal before—let alone a unicorn—but he did his best. “Her pulse and breathing are stable. But I think she’s gone into shock.”

  Rory’s eyebrows knotted. “In that case, shouldn’t she have shifted back?”

  Wystan had been wondering about that too. Young shifters usually reverted to human form if they lost consciousness.

  “Perhaps she can’t,” he said, his mind racing. “Her telepathic contact was unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. She didn’t have any language at all.”

  “Well, she is just a baby,” Blaise pointed out.

  Wystan shook his head, still busy checking the unicorn for any injuries. “It was more than that. There was an alien flavor to her thoughts. Sentient and intelligent, but not even remotely human. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I don’t think she’s a shifter at all. I think she’s a genuine unicorn.”

  Edith’s eyes widened. She looked like a kid who’d come downstairs on Christmas Day to discover that Santa had delivered a real live pony. “There are actual unicorns?”

  Rory looked more like the parent of a kid who had unexpectedly been given a pony. “First I’ve heard of it.”

  Joe shrugged. “There are weirder things in the sea, bro. And I’ve seen—I’ve heard about this sort of thing. Even ordinary humans have urban legends about fabulous creatures hiding in the wild.”

  Rory blew out his breath, looking unhappily down at the unicorn. “So if she isn’t a shifter…what are we supposed to do with her?”

  Callum abruptly stiffened, his head turning. “Someone’s coming.”

  Normally mythic shifters were invisible to ordinary humans when they were shifted…but there was no guarantee that the unicorn could do that trick. Especially not in her current state.

  Wystan ripped off his crew t-shirt, hastily casting it over the tiny unicorn. He was only just in time. Boots crunched through the leaf litter as the leader of the other firefighting squad joined them.

  “Hey guys, what’s taking so long—“ The human woman broke off, staring at him.

  Wystan’s pulse spiked. He glanced down…but the baby unicorn was completely hidden, just an anonymous lump under the soft black fabric.

  Nonetheless, the female squad boss appeared to have completely lost her train of thought. And the ability to speak.

  Rory rose to his feet, oh-so-casually blocking the woman’s view. “We’re just about finished here. Where do you need us next?”

  “Guh.” The woman swallowed hard. “Over on the chest. I mean the line! We need your help on the line!”

  “Of course.” Rory put a hand on her shoulder. “Show me where you want us to clear fuel. The rest of my squad will be along in a second.”

  The woman resisted his attempt to steer her away, her head swiveling around like an owl’s. Belatedly, Wystan realized that he was standing in the middle of a forest fire with no shirt on.

  He had to be breaking at least a dozen health and safety regulations.

  Fortunately, Rory had realized the problem too. He dropped into the deep, rumbling tones of the alpha voice, focusing his power on the gawping woman. “Everything’s fine here. Nothing to see. Fighting the wildfire is more important.”

  The woman blinked at last. “Right. Yes. It’s certainly getting…hot.”

  Blaise smothered a snicker.

  “The fire’s not that close,” Edith said, sounding puzzled.

  “Well, we need to get on with fighting it before it gets any closer,” Rory said firmly. “But there’s something else that needs our attention too. We found the animal that you heard earlier.”

  The woman shook herself as though waking up from a dream. “Oh, the one that was stuck in the thorns? What was it?”

  “Baby deer,” Rory said without the slightest trace of hesitation. “Our paramedic’s going to get it to safety. He’ll take care of it.”

  “Rory, I’m going to need more than my emergency kit.” Wystan scooped up the unicorn, being careful to keep it safely hidden in his shirt. “The, ah, fawn needs proper care and attention. Food, medicines, somewhere warm and safe to recover. This is going to require proper facilities, not a tent in the middle of nowhere.”

  “There’s an animal rescue unit deployed back at the main fire camp. They’ve got trailers set up for this kind of thing.” The woman frowned in concern. “But that’s hours from here by foot. And I don’t think Control will dispatch a rescue helicopter for a deer.”

  “No need.” Wystan caught Callum’s eye. The pegasus shifter nodded slightly. “We’ll manage.”

  “Right. See what you can do. We’ll meet you back at camp later.” Rory managed to draw the other squad boss away at last. “Now, let’s work out how we’re going to stop this fire…”

  Edith lowered her voice as the two leaders moved off. “Wystan, what are you going to tell the animal rescue officer?”

  The baby unicorn was a soft, warm bundle in his arms. Its silky mane tickled his bare chest.

  “I,” Wystan said, “have absolutely no idea.”

  Chapter 2

  “People,” Candice Ayres announced to the world in general, “suck.”

  “A strange sentiment.” Her colleague Bethany didn’t look up from examining their patient. “Coming from someone who’s currently being savaged by a rat.”

  “It’s not savaging me.”

  “You’re bleeding,” Bethany pointed out.

  Candice looks down at the thin line of red trickling out from under her glove. “Eh. I’ve had worse. Remember the goat?”

  “I try very hard to forget the goat. Lift it up a bit so I can listen to its heart.”

  Candice raised her arm higher, the rat dangling from her wrist like a particularly Goth bracelet, so that Bethany could get at the rodent’s chest. She hid her wince as the chisel-like teeth bit down even harder.

  She was used to pain. At least this was in a good cause.

  “It’s all right, sweetie,” she crooned to the animal. “We just want to check that you’re okay. We’re going to take care of you. Not like the horrible owner who left you to burn to death.”

  Bethany shot her an exasperated look over her stethoscope. “You always have to think the worst of people. Maybe they were out at work and couldn’t get back home when the evacuation order went out.”

  Candice curled her lip. “You didn’t see the house. Someone had enough time to take their flat screen tv and game consoles, but they left this cutie behind.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” Bethany muttered, now struggling to get a finger between the rat’s clamped jaws. “Get off, you scrawny terror.”


  “It’s not his fault. You’d bite too, if someone snatched you out of your peaceful home and shoved a thermometer up your butt.” Candice scooped up the rat with her free hand, protecting the sleek black creature from the vet. “Stop pawing at him, you’re just upsetting him further. Let him calm down in his own time.”

  “It’s got its teeth in your wrist.”

  “He’ll let go when he’s ready.” Candice shrugged. “If nothing else, he has to get hungry eventually.”

  Bethany sighed, giving up. “Is there any creature you don’t unconditionally love?”

  “I will admit that I find it difficult to appreciate mosquitoes.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’d still try to nurse one back to health.” Bethany dropped the stethoscope back into her medical kit. “Well, it’s your arm. I’ll go get a cage ready in the small animal tent for when the little demon decides it’s feasted on enough human flesh for one day.”

  Cuddling the rat in the crook of her arm, Candice leaned back against the examination table to let the other woman past. The rescue trailer was forty feet long, but so packed with equipment that moving around inside required balletic coordination. It was basically an entire veterinary surgery on wheels.

  Bethany wove around the neatly-labelled stacks of supply crates and cages with the ease of long practice, snagging a blanket and a bag of rodent chow along the way. As she shouldered open the trailer door, a flurry of ash scudded in, along with a swirl of noise—men’s shouts, the thudding roar of a passing helicopter, the ever-present rumble of trucks carrying firefighters to the front lines.

  The rat tensed, ears flattening. Four sets of pinpoint, needle-sharp claws joined the teeth digging into her flesh.

  Candice grimaced. Still, at least it was her right arm. The rat was mostly latched onto scar tissue. It didn’t hurt too badly.

  Cradling the rat as best she could, she awkwardly swept the ash out with the side of her boot, adding it to the growing drifts mounded outside. It was impossible to maintain a surgically clean environment in the midst of fire camp. The hubbub from the surrounding trailers and tents dropped back into a dull murmur of background noise as she kicked the door closed again.