Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  “Mmm.” Blaise’s dark brown eyes still held that thoughtful, reserved look. “If you wait for him to speak first, you’re likely to be waiting a long, long time. Tell me to butt out if this is none of my business, but I think you should push Callum. With a bulldozer, if necessary. There are some things that you really, really need to talk about.”

  “I know.” Diana sighed, thinking of the mountain of admin that they had to thrash out between them. “I really want to get on and register him as Beth’s father officially, but I have to make sure he understands all the legal and financial implications of that. And then there’s the visitation rights, and how we’re going to handle any disagreements on Beth’s care, and—”

  “All important,” Blaise interrupted. “But not what I meant.” She bit her lip, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. “Look, has Callum talked at all about his family?”

  “Of course. He’s told me a lot about his parents, especially his mom.” Diana smiled, thinking of Callum’s obvious pride in his mother’s many achievements. “I can’t wait for Beth to meet them.”

  “Mmm,” Blaise said again, sounding distinctly noncommittal. “And what about his brothers?”

  “Brothers?” Diana stared at her, taken aback. “Callum has brothers?”

  Although, now that Blaise mentioned it, she did dimly recall Callum saying something about a brother…not in the last few days, but way back during that drunken, reckless night at the charity auction.

  It had been when she’d run into him at the elevator, and offered to help him back to his hotel room. During the long ride up, she’d succumbed to temptation and hurled herself at him. All the time they’d been making out, he’d kept mumbling about his brother…

  She tried to remember what he’d said, but it was lost in a vague haze of tequila. At the time, she’d been far too focused on getting his mouth on hers to pay much attention to the words coming out of it.

  Diana wanted to quiz Blaise further, but Callum picked that moment to appear at the end of the store aisle with a heavily-laden shopping cart. Joe was at his side, carrying a basket of his own. The huge black man beamed the moment he caught sight of them all, waving one hand in greeting.

  “Bros! Look what I found!” Joe bounced up like an overexcited Labrador who’d just uncovered the best stick ever. He thrust out his hand to display a tiny pink garment. “Isn’t it perfect?”

  Diana examined the vest. It was very small, and very, very pink. Purple sparkly lettering across the front proudly declared When I grow up, I want to be just like Mommy!

  “It’s, um, really cute,” she said to Joe. “But this is newborn size. I wouldn’t even be able to get it over Beth’s head.”

  “Oh, it’s not for her,” Joe assured her. “It’s for me.”

  “Joe,” Edith said. “I really don’t think it’s going to fit you.”

  Blaise nudged her. “I think he means for his hypothetical kid. His very, very hypothetical kid. You’d better not be planning to leave that on Seren’s pillow, Joe. Not unless you’ve worked out a way that you can push something the size of a watermelon out of your most private orifice.”

  “I wish I could,” Joe said mournfully. “Why hasn’t science come up with a way for guys to carry babies yet?”

  “Probably because a lot of scientists are men,” Diana said. “Blaise is right, Joe. Don’t you dare pressure poor Seren into anything before she’s ready.”

  “Of course not,” Joe said, sounding indignant. He put the garment into his shopping basket, next to a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. “I’m not going to show her any of this stuff. I just want to be prepared.”

  Blaise eyed him, with a look of sudden suspicion. “Something you aren’t telling us, Joe?”

  Joe let out a heavy sigh. “Sadly not. And believe me, I’ve been looking.”

  “Looking for what?” Diana asked, baffled by the exchange.

  “Auspicious omens,” Joe said, without a trace of self-consciousness. “I kind of dabble in fortune-telling. No hints of babies in my future yet.” He shook his basket, regaining his usual cheer. “But when there are, I’ll be ready!”

  Diana glanced again at the screamingly pink vest. “What if you have a boy?”

  “That’s why I’m getting unisex clothes,” Joe said, with complete sincerity. “Did you guys find everything you needed?”

  “I thought I had,” Diana said, displaying her own basket. She nodded in the direction of Callum’s cart. “What on earth is all that stuff? I thought we were just picking up a few essentials.”

  Callum looked into his cart, then back at her, poker-faced. “These are essentials.”

  Diana poked through his finds. “A nightlight with built-in music streaming service and seventy configurable soothing light patterns is essential?”

  The faintest trace of embarrassment crept across his features. “Most of them are essential. I…may have gotten a little distracted from the list.”

  “More than a little. Baby Einstein sensory blocks? Aromatherapy massage oils? A …” She frowned at a brush set she’d just pulled out of the pile. “Wait a sec. Isn’t this for grooming pets?”

  Callum plucked the brushes out of her hand, hiding them again under his stash. “It’s for, uh, Fenrir. Is there anything in here you really aren’t happy about me getting for Beth?”

  Diana fished a brand-new, top-of-the-line e-reader out from the baby stuff. “Well, this is definitely a bit advanced for her.”

  A small smile curved his lips. “That one’s for you. You said yesterday you missed reading.”

  “I said I missed having time for reading,” Diana corrected him.

  He shrugged a shoulder at her. “I’m off work for five months. That should give you time to catch up on your books.”

  “That’s very sweet of you.” She firmly set the gadget down on the nearest shelf. “But I can’t accept this.”

  Callum promptly reclaimed the e-reader. With a bland expression, he tucked it under one arm.

  “Callum.” Diana tugged futilely at his iron-hard bicep. “I’m serious. You can’t buy me that.”

  “Twenty dollars on Callum,” announced Blaise, leaning against a display of diapers and looking like she wished she had popcorn.

  Joe held up his hands. “No way I’m taking that bet.”

  I will,” Edith said. “My money’s on Diana.”

  Diana was fully prepared to win that bet for Edith, but she didn’t get the chance. Before she could wrestle Callum for the e-reader, his cellphone rang. Keeping a wary eye on her, as though he suspected she’d somehow called him as a distraction, he answered.

  “Rory?” Callum said into the phone. He listened for a moment—and then his expression went set and hard, all playfulness gone in an instant. “Right. On our way.”

  “What is it?” Diana said, apprehension tightening her throat. “Bad news?”

  “No. Good.” Despite his words, Callum looked grim as death. “Remember the man who attacked you?”

  As if she could forget. “The police found out his identity?”

  “More than that. We have to go down to the station.” Callum took Beth from Edith, holding her protectively in his arms. “They caught him.”

  Chapter 15

  Diana stared through the one-way mirror, her face pale. She hugged Beth closer, shielding her with her own body, even though there was no way the line-up could see her through the obscuring glass. “Yes. That’s him. Number five.”

  Callum had only caught a single, fleeting glimpse of the man’s face during their brief fight, but he nodded too, confirming Diana’s identification. To his pegasus senses, the fifth man in the line-up smoldered like the embers of a forest fire. He was definitely the hellhound who had attacked Diana.

  The police officer in charge of the identity parade spoke briefly into a radio, murmuring orders to her colleagues on the other side of the glass. They cut the fifth man out of the lineup. The bearded man glowered over his shoulder as they led hi
m away in handcuffs. Even though the hellhound couldn’t see them through the one-way glass, the smoldering rage in his eyes made Callum’s pegasus bare its teeth, ears flat.

  He put an arm around Diana protectively, drawing her closer to his side. His pegasus was on high alert, ready just beneath the surface of his skin. He was so close to shifting that his bones ached. His awareness flicked constantly over the surroundings, touching every life, looking for any sign of a trap.

  He struggled to focus on the police officer. “You said you picked him up for vagrancy?”

  “Yep,” she said absently, still busy filling in paperwork on her clipboard. “Found him passed out in an alleyway, reeking of cheap spirits. Was just going to throw him in the drunk tank to cool off, but then the computer matched his picture against the photofit for your case. He must have the brains of a bag of hammers. My favorite sort of criminal.”

  It certainly seemed careless. Too careless.

  “Has he been cuffed the whole time he’s been in custody?” he asked the police officer, wondering why the man hadn’t simply shifted and used his hellhound power to phase out of jail.

  “Every second. Even before he woke up. By special order on his file. The Feds warned us this guy was dangerous.”

  That would explain why the man hadn’t managed to escape. Hellhounds, like mythic shifters, could take their clothes with them when they shifted—but it didn’t work on items they hadn’t put on willingly. Since a hellhound’s wrist was substantially bigger in animal form, handcuffs would prevent the man from shifting. The anklet Callum had put on Beth worked the same way—although in her case the knotted cord was more of a light deterrent rather than an unbreakable restriction.

  The police woman scrawled her signature at the bottom of her form and tore it off. “I’ll be happy to hand him over to the Feds’ tender care. Just got some procedure to go through before they can cart him off. Ms. Whitehawk, I need to go over your previous statement again with you, if you don’t mind.”

  Diana wrapped her arms around herself, but nodded. “Anything if it will get that man off the streets and into prison, where he belongs.”

  The police woman gave her a warm smile before turning to Callum. “Mr. Tiernach-West, the agents investigating this case want to have a word with you. Something about the wider investigation.”

  Callum had been expecting this. Pushing down his instinct to stay with his mate and child, he released Diana. She couldn’t be present during this conversation.

  “Will you be all right?” he asked her. “I’ll try not to be too long.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She lifted her chin bravely, though her face was still pale. “You go talk to the Feds. I’ll see you later.”

  He desperately wanted to press a reassuring kiss to her set, determined mouth. He wished he could reassure her, promise her that he would protect her no matter what, but the siren blare of lives made it impossible to think of the right words. He had too many secrets, and in his distracted state it would be too easy to let one slip.

  All he could do was give her an awkward nod, and let a police officer lead him away. With every step, he felt like an elastic cord was tugging on his heart, trying to pull him back.

  The police officer guided him to a small, plain room. There was a suspiciously large mirror on the wall. Callum took the seat the officer indicated. He couldn’t help noticing that there were steel loops on the arms where handcuffs could be attached.

  The police officer caught him looking, and gave him a sympathetic grimace over his shoulder as he left. “Sorry, sir. The Feds insisted on using our most secure interview room. They’re on their way now.”

  Callum didn’t need the officer to tell him that. He could sense two bright lives approaching, gleaming like precious jewels amidst all the mundane humans. There was something curiously familiar about those glittering energies…

  The door opened again. To be more accurate, it slammed back on its hinges with a defining crash as a tiny red-haired woman burst through it like a fireball.

  “Callum!” She hurled herself bodily at him, nearly knocking him off his chair. “So this is where you’ve been hiding! Come here, beanpole!”

  He found himself seized in an enthusiastic embrace. It wasn’t entirely the greeting he’d been expecting from a Shifter Affairs agent.

  “Min-Seo?” he said, startled out of his distraction.

  “Surprise!” She stepped back, still holding his shoulders. “Wow, you’ve certainly filled out. Not such a scrawny kid anymore, huh?”

  “You haven’t changed.” The Korean fox shifter still barely topped five feet, and three inches of that was high, bright-red ponytail. Even in her tailored black government suit, she looked exactly like the teenager she’d been when he’d last seen her.

  The gumiho wrinkled her nose at him. “OK, don’t rub it in, beanpole. Remember I could always trounce you in combat class at school.”

  “Only because you bite,” rumbled a deep voice.

  A man made a rather more sedate entrance into the room than Min-Seo, mainly because he had to turn sideways and duck in order to fit through the doorway. Callum hoped that he wouldn’t decide to hug him in greeting.

  “Shan,” he said, pushing Min-Seo off and standing up. His inner pegasus stamped a hoof, head lowering warily. “It’s been a long time.”

  The Qiong Qi—a rare Chinese winged tiger shifter—dipped his head in acknowledgement. He didn’t offer his hand.

  “Last I heard, you were working for East Sussex Fire and Rescue as a structural firefighter,” Min-Seo said. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Change of career,” Callum said shortly, not wanting to get into that brief, unpleasant part of his life. “I’m a hotshot now.”

  “Well, if we’d known you were so close, we would have dropped by sooner.” Min-Seo poked him in the chest. “And we would have known, if someone hadn’t missed the class reunion last summer.”

  “Fire season. I was working. Sorry.”

  He genuinely was sorry. His years as a boarding student at Shifting Sands Academy had been some of the happiest of his life. Mainly due to the fact that his brothers hadn’t been there. It was good to see two of his fellow alumni again, even if one of them was Shan.

  “Well, we’ll have to catch up properly later.” Min-Seo hopped up onto the table, swinging her legs like a schoolgirl. “When we’re not working. Shan, you wanna go fetch our special guest?”

  The winged tiger shifter nodded and squeezed his vast bulk back out the door. Callum stared after him for a second, then back at Min-Seo. “You actually work with him?”

  “Shan? Oh, he’s a sweetheart once you get to know him.” Min-Seo pulled a bright pink lollypop out of her suit jacket, unwrapping it. She popped the candy into her mouth, speaking round the stick. “And us monsters have to stick together. Listen, I need your help with the interrogation. I can’t influence emotions that aren’t there, and this asshole is too dumb and too full of himself to be scared of me or Shan. You, though, might be a different matter.”

  “I want to help in any way I can. But you know I’m not good at talking.”

  She grinned at him around the lollipop stick, for a moment looking as feral as her fox form. “Just follow my lead. Like the good old days, huh?”

  Callum wanted to ask how in the world Min-Seo (and Shan, of all people) had ended up working for the Federal Bureau of Shifter Affairs, but there wasn’t time. Shan came back into the room, dragging the hellhound after him. With efficient, practiced motions, Shan chained the man to the interrogation chair.

  The hellhound caught sight of Callum, and his face darkened. “You. This is all your fault, you asswipe!”

  “Interesting,” Min-Seo murmured around her lollipop. She pulled it out in order to treat the cuffed hellhound to a bright, cheerful smile. “Hi again! Have you had a change of heart yet? It would save everyone a lot of time and effort if you’d just tell us what you know of your own free will.”

  “You don�
�t scare me, bitch.” The hellhound sneered at Min-Seo and Shan alike. “You or your pet kitty-cat. I know Shifter Affairs agents ain’t allowed to rough up suspects. You so much as lay a finger on me and you’ll be in big trouble.”

  “True.” Min-Seo pointed at Callum with her lollipop. “But he’s not bound by any of those pesky rules”

  The hellhound eyed him, bravado flickering a little. Callum stood up straighter, attempting to look intimidating. He felt ridiculous.

  He tried to harm our mate and foal. His pegasus reared, muscles bunching. Kick his head from his shoulders! Snatch him up and drop him from a great height! Trample him flat and grind his bones into the ground!

  Suddenly he didn’t feel quite so silly after all.

  The hellhound visibly blanched, shrinking back in his chains. Min-Seo raised an eyebrow, glancing at Callum.

  “Huh. Barely had to lean on him at all,” she murmured to him. She turned back to the prisoner. “So, are you going to talk, or are me and Shan going to leave you alone with my friend in this nice, very soundproof room while we go enjoy a very long coffee break?”

  The hellhound swallowed nervously. “You—you wouldn’t.”

  “Let’s go, Shan,” Min-Seo said. “I have a sudden hankering to check out that donut place waaaaay on the other side of town.”

  “Wait!” The hellhound was sweating now. Callum didn’t think he was that intimidating, so Min-Seo must be using her gumiho ability to enhance emotions, increasing the hellhound’s fear into full-blown terror. “Don’t leave me alone with him! I’ll talk!”

  “Delighted to hear it,” Min-Seo said to the hellhound. “Let’s start with something easy. What’s your name?”

  The hellhound was still eying Callum as though afraid he might lunge for his throat at any moment. “Gerulf.”

  Min-Seo cocked an eyebrow at Shan, who shook his head slightly. “Nice try, ‘Gerulf.’ That’s not the name on your birth certificate, is it?”

  “It’s my pack name,” the hellhound growled. “And it’s all you’re getting.”

  Callum’s hands fisted. It was all he could do to keep his pegasus in check. “No. It isn’t. Tell us your real name. Now.”