by Ashlyn Chase
The residents glanced at each other and shook their heads. One of the men who came down first said, “We opened the front windows to see what was happening, and the fire chief said to go out the back, using the fire escape. They were about to hose down our building too.”
“Do you think our building will burn?” one of the women asked, trembling.
“Probably not. They do that as precaution.” Although with the heat of this particular blaze, Drake figured anything wooden and dry might catch. That’s why the chief had sent them to the fire escape, not the stairs.
But where was Bliss? And what about the Balogs? He knew Angie was out for the night, but that left at least one family who may or may not have been paranormals and his very mortal girlfriend.
The nearest side street was only two buildings down, so he directed the residents to get to the chief out front and report that they were all accounted for.
“Go.”
When they didn’t move faster than a stroll, his frustration got the better of him and he yelled, “Run!”
A couple people glanced over their shoulders briefly, then they all took off at a flat run.
Finally, I can get up there and look for Bliss. Drake made sure all the people he had helped were safely out of sight before he shed his clothes. Then he shifted until he could spread his dragon wings and flew up to the second-floor windows.
***
At last Bliss heard voices on the other side of the attic door. A key rattled; the door opened; and four dusty, exhausted people tumbled into the room of a very surprised couple.
“What the heck…” the man began to say.
His wife or girlfriend asked, “Did you escape the fire through the attic?”
“Yeah,” Bliss said. “Thanks for letting us out.” She set her computer on the bedside table and rubbed her sore wrist.
Mr. Balog bowed formally. “We apologize for entering your home like this. I am afraid it couldn’t be avoided.”
Gee, ya think? Bliss almost laughed out loud. It sounded as if the Balogs had been invited to tea, not escaping a harrowing death.
Suddenly Bliss realized that perhaps this wasn’t the first time the Balogs had escaped something nasty. She could picture them hiding and running from communists or something. The strange language sounded Slavic. Honestly, the stupid things that run through my mind sometimes. I should be thanking them for saving my life.
Bliss embraced Mrs. Balog. The woman stiffened, but when Bliss murmured, “Thank you,” she relaxed and patted Bliss’s back.
In English she answered, “You are welcome.”
***
Drake soared through the window that led to Bliss’s bedroom and hovered over the parts of the floor that were still intact. She was nowhere to be seen. He could see his buddies below still battling the blaze. He had to go up in case Bliss and the Balogs were waiting for rescue on the third floor.
He sought a place out of sight of the firefighters if they were to look up. In the back bedroom, which would have been Angie’s, he scanned the area for some place to break through to the next floor. Grasping a heavy lamp in his talons, he smashed it against a spot in the ceiling that looked weak. Plaster rained down on him, which he didn’t care about. However, additional pieces fell below and his firefighter buddies jumped out of the way.
Shit. Seconds later, he heard the window above burst. A way in! He flew out the second-floor window and up to the third floor. Fire blasted out that window, so he sucked in a deep lungful of air and flew through it.
His eyes watered, but he could still see. He flew from room to room and found no one. Thank God. Maybe they’d made it out safely after all. He took one last look and spotted the attic door open. Oh, crap. Could they be hiding up there?
He flew up to the rafters and looked left, then right. No one was there. Suddenly another awful possibility occurred to him. What if Zina took her?
Dejected, Drake scanned the area for onlookers and found it was safe to descend to the ground and shift. As soon as he was dressed again, he took off for the side street at a flat run. He couldn’t lose hope yet. Maybe she was standing out front.
As he rounded the corner, he saw residents all along the block leaning out of their windows, trying to see what was going on.
“Drake!” someone yelled.
He slowed down, scanned the building up to the top floor, and saw Bliss leaning out the fourth-floor window. She appeared a little ragged but unharmed. To him she had never looked more beautiful.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she called down. “Thanks to the Balogs.”
“Are they there with you?”
Adolf appeared in the window. “We are all here. All safe.”
“Thank God.”
Bliss held up something rectangular. “I even managed to save my computer this time!”
He would have laughed, but they were interrupted.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Cameron!”
Oh, shit. The chief was striding toward him and looked none too happy. Bliss ducked back inside, probably remembering the last time she got him into trouble.
“Nice of you to join us,” Chief Tate shouted. “Nobody knew where the hell you were.”
Drake checked his radio. “Sorry, chief. I think this thing might not be working.”
“Check it later. Right now we need to figure out if anyone’s still inside.”
“Everyone’s out,” Drake answered.
“And how do you know that?”
Drake pointed upward to the window where Adolf was still leaning out. “They’re all up there.”
The chief looked up. “Is that true, kid?”
“Yes,” Adolf called. “We’re all accounted for.”
“Thank God for small favors,” the chief mumbled.
One of the female residents Drake had helped to evacuate walked up to the chief and pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “That man there helped us get down the fire escape. He deserves a medal.”
The chief shook his head at the ground and muttered, “Of course, he does.” Drake was probably the only one who knew the guy was being sarcastic.
***
Bliss and Angie stood on the sidewalk the following morning, scanning the devastation to their home and jobs.
Bliss hugged herself. “I had just printed all my cards to proof them before sending everything to the professional printer. I guess losing those isn’t a big deal when you consider no one lost their lives.”
“You lost all your hard work? Again?”
“No. Just the proofs and my cheap-ass printer. I still have the designs and my laptop.”
“Whew.” After a long pause, Angie shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Ruxandra may have inadvertently saved my life. If it weren’t for her, I’d have been in the apartment with you and not on my friend’s couch, hiding under a blanket.”
Bliss took a step away and gazed at her roommate. “Seriously? You were hiding under a blanket.”
“Only for a few minutes. Brandee finally made me believe that Nick wouldn’t let anything happen to me… and I had to come up for wine.”
Bliss chuckled because she’d have done anything for a glass of wine last night. She stared again at the total destruction in front of them. Fat chance of getting one here.
“So… do you remember what set off Ruxandra?” Bliss had been hoping and praying that Anthony was able to hypnotize her roommate before they were interrupted. So far Angie hadn’t said anything about the damning “diary” or dragons, or indicated that Bliss might have lost her mind.
“It’s funny, but I really don’t. I was about to ask Anthony something… and I can’t even remember what it was now. Ruxandra screamed about us staring into each other’s eyes like she thought we were lovers. It must have been her usual paranoia about Anthony hooking
up with one of his staff.”
Hiding the relieved smile that must have made a brief appearance on her face, Bliss shook her head. “That’s one thing I won’t miss.”
Angie looked at her, surprised. “You mean there’s something you will miss about this place?”
“Of course there is!” Bliss put her arm around her roommate’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, for sure. You’ve been the best, most considerate roommate I’ve ever had.”
Angie laid her head on Bliss’s shoulder. “Awww… you’re just saying that.”
“Not at all. It’s true.” Other things she would miss were more nebulous. She’d miss the friendly camaraderie of the regulars, Sophie’s White Russians, Claudia… but most of all, she’d miss her independence.
“So, where will you go now?” Angie asked.
Bliss groaned. “The only place I can afford that won’t resent my presence after a day or two. My parents’ house.”
Angie gasped and stared at her with an expression of horrified sympathy. “Oh, no. I know how much you hate it there. Couldn’t you move in with Drake?”
Bliss would have loved that, but picturing the two of them in that one cramped room was impossible. “I stayed there last night, but he was at the station. It’s too early in our relationship to be on top of each other—well, you know what I mean…”
Angie laughed. Bliss was glad to hear her laugh about something, even if it was her own Freudian slip. “Anyway, that’s one good way to kill a romance.”
“I suppose.” Then as if something just occurred to her, Angie gasped. “The competition! Are you still able to participate? I mean, they were coming the day after tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. I called the producer this morning. They’ll meet with me at my parents’ house, and I’ll just have to insist my mother behave herself.”
“What are you afraid she’ll do?”
Bliss pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’ll announce that I’m single and probably look right into the camera and claim any man would be lucky to have a woman who can cook and clean like she taught me.”
Angie covered her mouth and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile.
Bliss didn’t give her a chance to pursue that conversation further. “You should have heard the glee in the producer’s voice when I told her I had been in not one, but two fires and had to recreate all my designs.”
“I guess that’ll make for good TV.”
“Exactly. I don’t know why I expected she’d react differently, but she never asked, ‘Wow, are you hurt?’ or ‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ You know what she said?”
“What?”
“She said, ‘Holy shit, the viewers will love that!’ Apparently I’m already the fan favorite, but when the show with the finalists and their families airs, and everyone hears about the catastrophes I had…” Bliss rolled her eyes.
“Hey, you should get something out of all this.” Angie rubbed Bliss’s back. “Did you call your mother to tell her you’re coming home?”
Remembering how her mother reacted the last time she’d heard her precious daughter had barely escaped death, Bliss sighed. “No.”
“I have my cell phone if you want to use it.”
“Thanks, but no. I figured I’d be better off telling her in person this time. As long as she can see me standing, walking, and talking, she might react a little better than last time. And that’s just a maybe.”
“I’m sure she’ll be relieved to know you’re all right.”
Bliss snorted. “Yeah, after she rails at the ceiling, asking God what I’ve done to deserve this. Then, assuming I know the answer to that, she’ll insist I go to confession and follow whatever edict the priest gives me to save my tarnished soul.”
“Or maybe she’ll just pray for you.”
Bliss chuckled. “You don’t know my mother.”
***
Drake sat in the chair opposite Chief Tate’s desk. What did I do now?
When the chief finally walked into his office, he didn’t even sit down. “You’re going to the EAP, Drake.”
“The Employee Assistance Program? Why?”
“Because I think you should.”
“I don’t need…”
Chief Tate held up one hand to silence him. “I didn’t say you had a choice.”
“But I’m fine.” Drake turned his chair to face him. “I don’t understand. I had on my protective gear, I’m not coughing…”
“I’m not sending you for smoke inhalation… although that might be a good thing to look at and see if it’s clouding your brain.”
“Huh?”
“I could order you to get a psych eval. I could say you have a death wish and are not only endangering your own life, but the lives of other firefighters.”
Drake shot to his feet. “What?”
The chief folded his arms and set his jaw, as if accepting Drake’s challenge. “You’re going. It’ll look better if you ask for the appointment yourself and talk to someone confidentially. I need to know if you have a death wish. If not, I’ll be glad to keep you on.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“From what I’ve seen and heard over the past few weeks, you’ve been taking too many chances and tempting fate. I thought you were in the bar when it collapsed, and that’s when I made my decision.”
“You thought you’d send my dead body for a psych eval?”
“No, dimwit. I promised myself if you got out alive, I’d send you for some kind of help before you wound up dead… and God knows how many more I might lose, trying to rescue you. I hate attending firefighters’ funerals.”
“That makes two of us.”
Drake didn’t like what he was hearing, but he had to admit the chief had cause. Anyone paying attention would eventually realize he was always the first one in and the last one out. It might look bad to those who didn’t know he was fireproof… in other words, everyone.
“Chief,” Drake tried to relax. “I understand how it might look, but I assure you I’m very happy with my life. I don’t have a death wish.”
“Fine. Tell it to the shrink, or whoever the EAP hooks you up with. If he thinks you need help, you’ll do what he tells you. Understood?”
Drake rubbed his eyes and muttered, “I don’t believe this.”
“Oh, you can believe it, all right.”
“You’re not committing me or anything… There’s still a chance the EAP will send me home with a warning to be more careful, isn’t there?”
The chief shrugged. “I have no idea what he’ll decide, but whatever that is, you’ll do it.”
Drake felt like a two-year-old who’d been scolded for running with scissors. “So when do I need to go?”
“How’s now for you?”
“I guess now works.”
“Great. Dismissed.”
Chapter 18
“Mom, I need you to promise me, when the producer and camera crew get here you’ll be on your best behavior.”
Malinda Russo bristled. “What on earth are you talking about? Why would you think I’d be anything less than gracious?”
“I don’t think you’d be rude or anything… at least not on purpose.”
Bliss’s mother jammed her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This is very important to me,” Bliss peeked through the lace curtain and saw the truck pull up with the camera crew. “And to them.”
Malinda waved away her daughter’s concern. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I may have thought it was just a silly competition before, but now that I see how much it means to you, I’ll be nothing but supportive.”
Bliss hugged her. “Thank you, Mom.” As soon as she let go, she had to add, “And no trying to fix me up with the cameraman or lighting crew. Got it?”
&nbs
p; Malinda rolled her eyes. “Why would you think I’d do that?”
Bliss hesitated. Sometimes honesty wasn’t the best policy. “No reason.”
“Are they Italian?”
Bliss blew the bangs out of her eyes. “That’s why! For heaven’s sake, Mom. I don’t know and I don’t care if they’re Italian, Polish, or space aliens… You will not mention that I need a husband—or put across the idea in any other grouping of words. Capiche?”
“Fine, fine.” Her mother waved her hands and left the room, insisting, “I get it, Miss Independent,” on her way into the kitchen.
Bliss prayed her mother really did understand and would leave the unmarried men alone. One of the judges was male but as gay as they came. Her mother’s gaydar might go on the fritz because he was a handsome guy and might look like a good father for Malinda’s future grandchildren.
The doorbell rang and Bliss sucked in a deep breath. Then she forced herself to relax and answered the door, while her mother looked on.
A cameraman stood on their front stoop. “You’re Bliss Russo, right?”
“Yes. Come in.”
He waved to someone behind him and called out, “This is the place.”
In minutes, people, lighting, cameras, and cords invaded the small living room. Mrs. Russo peeked out from the kitchen and her jaw dropped. Bliss offered her mother a comforting smile, which she returned while seeming to relax a smidge.
Maybe this will go all right after all.
“We’re going to set up out there to catch your expression when the host arrives,” the cameraman said, pointing to the stoop, “and here to see hers when you greet her.” He set his marks and the lighting guys set their professional light panels.
“Then, I’d suggest you lead her into your kitchen and introduce her to your big Italian family.”
Oh shit. “You want the whole family here?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what the producers were expecting.”
“I thought it was usually just a roommate or friend…”
“Nope. They want the whole shebang. Let me see the kitchen.” He strode into the kitchen without Bliss showing him the way.