by Zoe Chant
“Likewise,” he managed. “I am deeply in your debt for all that you’ve done—you, and the rest of your team. And I truly regret dragging you and your squad into all this.”
“I don’t,” said a tall and very obviously pregnant woman. She was smiling as well, though Zephyr noticed that she seemed to be avoiding meeting his eyes. “Without you, we’d never have met.”
“That’s true for all of us, actually,” put in a towering man with ink-dark skin and turquoise eyes. He grinned down at the sharp-featured, gray-haired woman under his arm. “Maybe it was fate.”
“Was,” rumbled an enormous bearded man. He exchanged a soft, intimate look with the woman next to him, who barely came up to his chest. “No regrets.”
The short woman squeezed her partner’s hand. “Never.”
“If anything, we’re the ones who owe you, Zephyr.” Stepping back, Rory put an arm around the pregnant woman’s waist, in a way that left no doubt as to who was the father of her imminent child. “Let me introduce you to everyone. This is my—”
“This isn’t a tea party,” Buck cut in sharply. “Zeph needs to rest, and I don’t pay you lazy motherlovers to stand around flapping your lips. Haven’t you got work to do?”
The pregnant woman flinched. Rory tightened his arm around her, flashing Buck a startled look. The rest of the squad were staring at the Superintendent too, with expressions betraying varying levels of surprise.
Zephyr was taken aback by Buck’s outburst as well. “I’m fine. And I want to meet everyone.”
“Edith, Joe, Seren, Fenrir, Darcy.” Buck rattled off the names with machine-gun speed, jabbing a finger at each person in turn. “There. Done. Now you’ve met the whole lot.”
“Not everyone,” Rory put in. “Wystan and Candice couldn’t make it today, but Callum should be back soon. He went to fetch Diana. We thought she should be here, given her own connection to the Thunderbird.”
“Diana is the other thunderkin?” Zephyr recalled a dark-haired woman facing him without fear, lightning filling her eyes. “I would very much like to talk with her.”
“Well, it’ll have to wait,” Buck said firmly. “You need to settle in, and I need to find out how badly these delinquents have trashed the place in my absence.”
Edith looked anxious, and her hands made an odd, flurrying motion. “We’ve done our best to keep everything up to your standard. We really have tried, chief.”
“He doesn’t really think we’ve been slacking, Edith.” Over her head, Rory fixed Buck with a warning look. “Everyone knows how hard you’ve been working.”
“Yeah, Buck is just being Buck,” Joe put in cheerfully. “He has to stomp around finding fault with everything, otherwise we might realize how much he actually missed us.”
“You’d need a scanning electron microscope to measure that,” Buck growled. He glanced at Edith, and his tone softened. “But much as it pains me to admit that it, the place does seem to be in order. Good work, Edith.”
The blond firefighter’s face split in a relieved grin. “Thanks, chief. But it wasn’t just me. Everyone’s worked hard.”
Rory flashed a sidelong look at Joe. “Nearly everyone.”
Joe shrugged, looking completely unrepentant. “Hey, I make coffee.”
“I do not think coffee is your most significant contribution to the crew,” Seren murmured. “Some might argue it is actively detrimental to morale.”
“You see what I have to put up with?” Buck said to Zephyr. “Listen, I really do need to have a talk with the squad. My cabin’s just back there. You go get settled in, okay?”
“I don’t have a lot to unpack, and I truly don’t need to rest. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”
“Oh, it’s just crew stuff. Bore you back into a coma.” Buck fished a set of keys out of a pocket, holding them out. “Go on. I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”
Given the choice, Zephyr would rather have shadowed the crew. From their easy banter, he suspected that the squad could turn a two-hour lecture about health and safety regulations into a party. After so long on his own, it was wonderful to be around such easy camaraderie, even if just as an onlooker.
But there was a certain tightness to his uncle’s mouth that made Zephyr nod and take the keys. Whatever Buck needed to discuss with the shifters—and Zephyr highly doubted it had anything to do with firefighting—he clearly wanted to do it in private.
“All right.” Zephyr hesitated. He knew it was none of his business, but he couldn’t help asking, “By the way, is Blaise around? We didn’t get much of a chance to speak at the hospital. There are some things I need to ask her.”
The instant the words were out of his mouth, he knew it had been the wrong thing to ask. Up until that point, the shifters had shown him nothing but welcoming acceptance. Now, with eerie synchronicity, their expressions altered, becoming guarded. They all looked at each other, as though hoping someone else would be the first to speak.
“All right, you motherlovers, spit it out.” Buck’s eyes narrowed. “Where is Blaise?”
“Ah.” Rory rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well.”
Chapter 6
Blaise had a plan.
It wasn’t a great plan, admittedly. In essence, it boiled down to “Keep busy, deny everything, and stay the hell away from Zephyr.” But after several hours of random driving, mainlining Cheetos and changing radio stations whenever a love song came on, she still hadn’t been able to come up with anything better.
“It’ll work,” she muttered to herself as she headed back to the base. “It’ll have to work.”
In the general bustle of crew arriving and unpacking, it had been easy to slip away without being noticed. She’d taken the precaution of turning off her phone, so that no one would be able to call to ask where she’d gone. If fire season had opened, that would have been a serious offense—everyone had to be prepared to drop everything and head out the moment a call came in—but the crew wasn’t on standby yet.
No doubt the rest of the squad would give her grief about missing Zephyr’s arrival, but she could handle that. Tomorrow, training would start in earnest, and she’d be able to find plenty of excuses to keep her distance from him. And then it would be fire season, and the whole crew would be off on assignment for weeks at a time. There’d be at least half the state between her and Zephyr, if not half the country. Even her animal had to give up and settle down at that point, surely.
She parked her pickup truck at the bottom of the track up to the base, so that the engine noise wouldn’t alert anyone that she was back. With any luck, Zephyr would have turned in by now. But just in case everyone was still celebrating his return, she’d take one of the back trails to the crew cabins, and pretend to be asleep if anyone came knocking. All she had to do was get through tonight, and after that it would be smooth sailing.
It was a good plan, and it lasted exactly as long as it took her to get out of her truck, turn around, and find herself nose to chest with Callum.
“Shit, Cal!” Blaise peeled herself off the side of her truck. “I swear, one of these days I’m going to get Diana to hang a damn bell round your neck.”
“Sorry.” Callum handed her an industrial-sized tub of saw bar oil. “Here.”
Even for Callum, this was unusually cryptic.
“First you give me a heart attack, and now lubricant.” Blaise eyed the tub suspiciously. “This had better not be some kind of sex joke.”
“It’s an excuse,” Callum said patiently, as though speaking to his toddler. “We told Buck that you’d left to pick up essential supplies. Didn’t want him to realize you’re avoiding Zephyr.”
“I’m not avoiding Zephyr.” Even to her own ears, it didn’t sound convincing. “I just… needed to clear my head.”
Callum nodded, not saying anything. He stood there, blocking her path.
Blaise sighed. “You’re not going to let me sneak off, are you.”
Callum reached round her, op
ening the door of her truck. “He wants to see you.”
Blaise’s heart did the now familiar double thump. “Zephyr?”
“Buck.”
“Oh.” Blaise pushed down a stupid pang of disappointment, hoping that Callum hadn’t noticed. With a grimace, she climbed back into the driver’s seat. “Well, can’t ignore a summons from the chief. You want a lift, or are you flying back?”
Callum took the passenger seat, somewhat to her surprise. His pegasus could have covered the short distance to the base in the time it took her to restart the engine. Maybe he just didn’t trust her not to do a three point turn and hightail it over the horizon.
“He asked after you,” Callum said without preamble.
“Who, Buck?”
“No.” Callum slanted a sidelong glance at her. “Zephyr.”
I am not going to ask. I am not going to ask. I am not going to ask.
“What did he say about me?” Blaise burst out, and could have kicked herself. “I mean, just out of curiosity. Was he wanting to talk about something specific, or just say hi?”
“You’ll have to ask him that. If you dare.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Buck took the squad to one side when he got back. Said he’d fire anyone who tells Zephyr about mates.”
“Good,” Blaise said, and then blinked as her brain caught up with her ears. “Wait, what? Why?”
“Don’t know.” Callum gave her another of those enigmatic looks. “Though we thought you might.”
They’d reached the base. Blaise played for time, reversing her truck into a parking space while her mind whirled.
Why would Buck want to keep the concept of mates a secret? Did he know about her? How could he know? She hadn’t spoken with the Superintendent since their brief phone call at the hospital. Had Zephyr said something that had tipped Buck off? How could he have done, if he didn’t even know about mates?
She hopped out, still frowning. “Maybe Buck’s just trying to protect his nephew. You know how the Superintendent feels about ‘motherloving shifters.’”
“Maybe,” Callum echoed, sounding unconvinced. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Me? Of course. I’m fine. Just peachy.” Stop talking, Blaise. Her palms started to sweat. “Why would you even ask?”
Callum stopped, touching her arm so that she turned to look at him. In the fading evening light, his expression was grave, and deeply troubled.
“Because I’m your friend,” he said. “And I’m worried about you. We all are. I wish you’d let us help.”
Blaise swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “I know. I appreciate the thought, Cal. But there’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
When the weather was fine, the crew usually ate outside, enjoying the fresh air and view across the mountains. This late in the evening, the benches and tables were mostly empty. A firefighter’s day started early, and generally getting a full eight hours won out over staying up to chat. Only A-squad and their mates, plus Buck, still sat around the fire pit.
And one other person.
The low-burning fire silhouetted Zephyr’s lean form. He was sitting on a log, back to her, talking quietly to Diana. As though able to sense the pressure of her gaze, he stiffened, turning. The moment he saw her, his face broke into a smile of pure delight. He scrambled up, coming to meet her.
“Hello again,” he said.
“Uh,” she managed, with monumental effort. “Hi.”
This was about as much conversation as she could muster, given that all her brain cells were in the process of leaking out her ears. She stared at Zephyr, hoping that he would take it from here, but he seemed to be as much at a loss as she was. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, hands in his pockets, looking pleased and awkward and criminally kissable.
Words. Words would be appropriate. What even were words. Shit. She had to say something. Anything.
“You’re dressed,” she blurted out, and immediately longed for the sweet relief of death.
He ran a finger under the collar of his T-shirt, tugging it away from his neck as though it was suddenly too tight. This had the side effect of giving her a brief, tantalizing glimpse of his throat and collarbones. In terms of regaining her composure, this was less than helpful.
“I’m sorry for flashing you when I woke up,” he said. It was hard to tell in the flickering orange light of the fire, but she thought he might be blushing. “I promise my clothes will stay on in future.”
“Oh no,” Blaise’s mouth said, while her brain gibbered and ran in circles. “What a pity.”
Zephyr’s flush deepened, but his crooked smile hitched up a notch. Clearing his throat, he gestured at her. “Did you find what you needed?”
“Hell yes,” Blaise said, then belatedly realized he meant her pretend errand. She hefted the tub of grease, holding it up. “Uh, that is, yeah. Sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you with the others, but I really needed to get this. Urgently.”
He looked curiously at the tub, head tilting to one side. “What is it?”
“Lube.” As Zephyr’s eyebrows shot up, she yelped, “For chainsaws! I mean, we use it to grease the saw bars. Nothing else.”
Zephyr chuckled. “That’s a relief. For a moment, I feared there was a whole unexpected side to wildland firefighting that I’d never imagined.”
Humor danced in his midnight eyes, like the sparks from the fire. The easy warmth of his smile dissolved the tension between them. She found herself grinning back at him, her singing nerves relaxing a bit.
Then Zephyr’s expression faltered, his eyes flicking to one side. She followed the line of his glance to Buck. The Superintendent sat on the other side of the fire pit with a can of soda in one hand, watching them impassively through the flames.
Buck does know. Shit shit shit.
“I’m, uh, gonna go see if there’s anything left to eat.” She backed away so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. “Good to see that you’re feeling better. Bye!”
“Wait,” he called after her. “Blaise, can we talk?”
She pretended not to hear, practically sprinting across the yard. To her relief, Zephyr didn’t try to follow her. Not daring to glance back in case their eyes met again, she took refuge in the mess hall.
The tables were bare, but the door to the kitchen stood open, casting a long rectangle of light into the shadowed hall. Going through, she found Tanner and Fenrir loading plates into the dishwasher.
“Hey guys,” Blaise said, as casually as she could manage. “Am I too late to grab a bite?”
Tanner nodded in the direction of a foil-covered platter. “Still some burgers left, despite the rest of your squad. Never seen anyone able to pack food away like you chowhounds, and that’s saying something. It’s a wonder y’all aren’t as round as hogs.”
“Hey, we burn it off.” Blaise started assembling herself a triple-stacked burger. “Anyway, we have to eat while we can. Like bears preparing for winter. The so-called food we get on assignment is terrible. Especially the MREs.”
Fenrir shrugged. “Beef stew is not too bad.”
“That’s my favorite one too.” Tanner shot Fenrir a curious look. “Though how do you know about the ready-to-eat meals, Fenton? Thought Rory said you were a rookie.”
“We, uh, took him some to try last winter,” Blaise put in hastily. “You know, so he could see how bad they were, before he decided whether to apply for the crew.”
“Well, I’m glad they didn’t put you off,” Tanner said to Fenrir. He tilted his head to one side, looking at the hellhound with a slightly quizzical air. “Never seen a rookie settle in so fast. If I didn’t know it was your first day, I’d have thought you’d been part of the crew for years.”
Blaise, who’d just taken a large bite of her burger, nearly choked on it.
“Yes.” Fenrir’s tone was solemn, but his copper eyes sparkled with amusement. “Feels that way to me too.”
“Huh.” The line between Tanner’s eyebrows deepened. “Funny. You know, I could’ve sworn that we’ve met before, somehow. Can’t quite put my finger on it.”
With a convulsive effort, Blaise forced down her half-chewed mouthful. “Hey, Tanner, you wanna head off? No sense you hanging around watching me eat, and I’m sure Rohelio’s waiting for you.”
To her relief, the diversion worked. Tanner smiled, in the lopsided, goofy way he always did when someone mentioned his husband. If they’d been shifters, Blaise was certain they would have been true mates.
“Wouldn’t mind getting an early night.” Tanner winked. “If you take my meaning. You sure you’re okay finishing up here?”
“No problem.” Blaise waved him off, her own grin rather fixed. “See you tomorrow!”
She sagged against the countertop once Tanner was safely gone. “Fenrir, you have got to be more careful.”
Fenrir’s lip curled to show what would have been a hint of fang, if he’d been in hellhound form. “Don’t like lying. And he does know me.”
“Yeah, but you can’t tell him that he used to scratch you behind the ears. Gossip spreads faster than wildfire around here. If Tanner figures out that there’s something weird about us, it won’t be long before the whole crew knows our secret.”
Fenrir made a disgruntled growl. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Crew hunts together, eats together, guards each other. Is like pack. Not right to keep secrets from pack.”
Blaise would have argued further, but Buck picked that moment to stalk into the kitchen. Fenrir took one look at the Superintendent and ducked his head, shoulders hunching in submission. Without a word, the hellhound fled.
“Gee, thanks,” Blaise muttered, glaring at Fenrir’s rapidly departing back. “So much for ‘pack is pack,’ huh?”
“Man has some sense.” Buck shut the kitchen door behind the hellhound. “Some conversations are best kept private. You got something you want to tell me, Blaise?”
Blaise was still hungry, but her burger abruptly looked as appetizing as a mud pie. She put it down, pushing the platter away. “No, chief.”