by Zoe Chant
In the dawn half-light, Blaise’s expression was haunted. “Zephyr… all that was real, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t have to answer. She knew the truth already. He could tell by the way her fists clenched, and the bleakness in her eyes.
“Yes,” he said anyway. Once again, he heard the Thunderbird’s parting words, shaking his soul. “The Thunderbird is alive. And it’s going to return for me.”
Chapter 12
His first good night of sleep in years, Zephyr thought, watching Buck across the small kitchen table. And he has to wake up to this.
There had been no way to break the news gently. The dreams, the Thunderbird’s return, Blaise; Zephyr had laid it all out to his uncle over breakfast, in the privacy of Buck’s small kitchen, holding nothing back.
For his part, Buck listened in grim silence, his coffee untouched on the table in front of him. He didn’t question anything, or even look surprised. When Zephyr finally ran out of words, Buck just nodded, slowly.
“Knew you were hiding something,” Buck said. There was no accusation in his tone; just a kind of bleak acceptance. “You were way too evasive about where you’d been when you weren’t flapping around the place. Didn’t want to push you, since you clearly didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth before.” Zephyr fidgeted with his fork, pushing a last bite of pancake around his plate. “I wasn’t sure how you would take it. I was afraid it would only add to your feelings of guilt.”
“All this time, you were trying to talk to me,” Buck murmured. He stared into his coffee mug. “And I never even knew you were there.”
“And this is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” Zephyr leaned forward, making Buck look up again. He held his uncle’s gaze, his own firm and unwavering. “You cannot blame yourself for this. You couldn’t have known. That’s just how it works. No one truly sees me, in dreams.”
Or almost no one.
“Blaise did,” Buck said, as though reading his mind. “You said she was fully aware throughout your night-time jaunt through other people’s heads.”
“That’s different. She’s different.”
“Because she’s your…”
“Mate,” Zephyr finished, when Buck left the sentence dangling. Despite everything, saying the word made a little bubble of happiness swell in his chest. He found that he was smiling; probably like a fool, but he didn’t care. “Yes.”
Buck grimaced as though Zephyr had set a dish of raw offal in front of him. “Well, thank dog you figured it out at last. Another day of you two blundering around making sheep’s eyes at each other, and I swear I’d’ve bludgeoned you both with a shovel.”
“Your restraint is superhuman, Uncle,” Zephyr said dryly. “You knew right from the start, didn’t you? How could you tell?”
“You see something enough times, you learn to spot the warning signs. Motherloving shifters.” Buck picked up his coffee at last, though he didn’t take a sip. “Guess I have to be grateful for their weird-ass instincts for once, seeing as how Blaise ran your resurrected critter clear out of town. Wish I could have seen that. Must have been quite a sight.”
“It was.” Zephyr’s smile faded. “But she can’t keep protecting me. The Thunderbird told me it would return when I was ready. I have a little time to prepare, to try to ground myself so I won’t be lost this time, but it’s only a few weeks at best. Sooner rather than later, Blaise will have to let it take me.”
Buck snorted. “Let me know when you’re planning to tell her that. I’ll bring popcorn.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Zeph, Blaise isn’t ever going to wave you off with a tear in her eye, no matter how much breath you waste trying to persuade her to let you sacrifice yourself. She’ll keep kicking your monster’s feathered butt every day before breakfast, and twice on Sundays.” Buck looked distinctly pleased by the prospect. “Damn it, to hell with the budget. I’m giving that woman a raise.”
“Whatever you’re paying her, you should double it. But Blaise knows what’s at stake. Whatever her personal feelings, I’m sure she’ll put them aside. She’s good at that.”
Perhaps too good. With a twinge of unease, Zephyr remembered his brief glimpse of Blaise’s fire-filled dream, and the panic in her eyes when he’d tried to persuade her to go back to it. She was so confident and capable in the waking world. No one would ever have guessed the burden that she carried at night, alone.
Buck made a skeptical grunt. “And if the situation was reversed, and she was the one all gung-ho to throw her life away for the greater good? You telling me you’d just give her a sad smile and stand back while she jumped off a cliff?”
“No! Of course not!” The words shot from his lips in reflexive denial. He heard his own tone, and winced. “Oh.”
“Heh. Exactly. Here’s to motherloving shifters, bless their possessive little souls, and that is really not a sentence I ever thought I’d say.” Buck drained his cup of coffee in a single long swallow. “Dreams and demons aside, some of us still have work to do. You still set against applying for the squad?”
“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? I have to keep my distance from Blaise, for her sake. And even if my presence didn’t provoke her animal, I’m not exactly in a position to be making long-term plans.”
Buck gave him a look that Zephyr couldn’t quite interpret; an odd mix of exasperation and understanding. “Well, I’ve got to go shout at people. Make yourself at home, if that’s what you want to do.”
“I will. Don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to Darcy about what’s going on. Catch up with you at lunch?”
Buck made a noncommittal kind of noise. “If you say so, kid. See you soon.”
He headed out, leaving Zephyr blinking at the closing door. He’d expected… more. Certainly more yelling. When it came to the five stages of grief, Buck tended to go straight to ‘anger,’ and stay there. Yet all in all, he had taken the news of Zephyr’s impending doom remarkably calmly.
“That went well,” he said out loud, puzzled.
Shaking his head, he started clearing away the breakfast things. In all likelihood, Buck was just in denial over the Thunderbird’s return. Zephyr would have to talk with him later, and make him see there was no other way. Buck knew what it meant to be a warrior, with a warrior’s duty. He would understand, in time.
Blaise would understand too. Despite his uncle’s skepticism, Zephyr was sure of that. She, too, had devoted her life to protecting people. She’d seen first-hand the damage the horned serpents could do. She would accept that Zephyr had to—
The front door slammed back against the wall, making Zephyr start. Blaise stood silhouetted in the door frame, wearing full protective gear and a ferocious scowl.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Er.” Zephyr held up a soapy plate. “Washing dishes?”
Blaise rolled her eyes, as though she’d caught him lounging on a couch eating bonbons. “You haven’t got time for that. Come on! You’re late!”
She was so commanding, he’d already taken a step in her direction before his brain caught up with his body. “I am?”
“Yeah, and you’re lucky the Superintendent is your uncle. Otherwise he’d have already flushed your file down the toilet. Are these your shoes?” Blaise scooped up his sneakers from beside the door, wrinkling her nose at them. “Why the hell did Buck let you buy this shit? Might as well jam your feet into a couple of bread rolls. Oh well, they’ll have to do for now. We’ll get you some decent boots later. Come on, Zeph, stop gawping at me and hustle!”
“I don’t understand.” He fumbled with a dishcloth, drying his hands. “Is there some kind of emergency?”
“There’s going to be, if we don’t get you kitted out before morning exercises. Look, do you want to join this crew or not?”
“Blaise, I can’t join. Even if the Thunderbird hadn’t returned, it still wouldn’t be possible. We talked about this
.”
“Yeah, and then you yanked me into a freaky dreamscape and tried to feed yourself to a giant bird. That kind of changes things. Look, you said your Thunderbird ritual went wrong last time because you didn’t have people to call you back. You need connections, right?”
“Right,” he said, totally bewildered now. “But Blaise—“
“And the bond between us isn’t enough,” she interrupted. Her fierce expression faltered, just for a second, revealing a flash of something more raw, vulnerable. “I felt what happened, when you… jumped. It was like you were disappearing. Slipping through my fingers, no matter how I tried to hold onto you.”
He let out his breath. “You were one person, Blaise, trying to stand against a storm. Maybe a full mate bond would have helped. Maybe it still wouldn’t have been enough. It doesn’t matter either way. You and I… what there is between us, now, is all there can ever be. We both know that.”
“Yeah.” Blaise’s mouth set back in that stubborn, take no prisoners line. She tossed his shoes at him. “So hurry up and get your butt in gear. I have a plan.”
Rory stared at her. “You seriously think a job is going to be enough to keep Zephyr from losing himself to the Thunderbird again?”
“Not a job, idiot,” Blaise replied. She waved a hand, gesturing at the squad. “Us.”
They were in the storeroom, kitting up for the morning’s training exercises. The first day back was always chaos. No matter how carefully the crew packed away all the gear at the end of the last season, somehow someone always accidentally picked up the wrong jacket or misplaced their helmet. Blaise had taken advantage of the general background din to pull A-squad aside and deliver a hasty summary of the previous night’s surprises.
“Can we go back to the part where Callum was dreaming about turtles?” Joe asked. “I feel that needs to be explored further. I didn’t even know you liked turtles, Cal.”
Callum had the expression of a man facing a life sentence of turtle-related gifts. “I don’t. Less with every moment, in fact.”
Blaise rolled her eyes. “Joe, will you please forget the turtles?”
Joe spread his hands. “I’m trying to. I really am. Unexpected turtles just tend to stick in the mind.”
“They certainly do.” Seren looked pained. “For the love of the Sea, can we please change the topic? Otherwise I fear that turtles are going to haunt all our dreams tonight.”
“Good,” Callum grated. “Then I can quiz all of you about turtles. At great length.”
“Moving on from the turtles, difficult as that may be,” Darcy said. She was perched on a storage box, out of the way of the rest of the crew, a notepad on her knee. “You’re certain that the Thunderbird is really back?”
Blaise nodded. “Large as life. Zephyr thinks the antishift serum snapped his connection to it rather than killing it outright. He says it was looking for him through the dream realm, but it couldn’t find him while he was trapped in that coma.”
Darcy made a note. “Is it going to come back every time he goes to sleep?”
Blaise couldn’t help glancing across the room at Zephyr. He was at the back of the room, being given a rapid-fire introduction to firefighting gear by Edith. Her hands flurried with enthusiasm as she explained the purpose of each item. For the sake of appearances, Fenrir was also listening to Edith’s lecture, though a small, fond smile played on his lips. He probably could have given it himself.
As if sensing her watching him, Zephyr turned his head. Blaise jerked back round before their eyes could meet.
“He says not,” she said. “It spoke to him, apparently, right before we woke up. Said it would wait for him to summon it, with the ritual, when he was ready. That’s why he has to join the squad. We can keep him grounded. Call him back.”
Rory rubbed the back of his neck. “Blaise, aren’t you ignoring a much more obvious solution to this problem?”
“Not an option,” Blaise said flatly.
“It might be the only option,” Callum said. His green eyes betrayed his concern. “Diana said that she wouldn’t have been able to resist the Thunderbird’s attempt to transform her, if not for our mate bond.”
“Yeah, but that was a special situation. According to Zephyr, it’s normally friends and family who would keep someone from being swept away,” Blaise said. “Come on, guys. Can’t you see how perfect this is? We’re more than just a group of buddies. We’re a family. That’s exactly what Zeph needs.”
Rory still didn’t look convinced. “Yes, but we grew up together.”
Blaise had been expecting this objection. “Fenrir didn’t. Edith didn’t, and neither did Seren. Hell, Darcy, Candice, and Diana aren’t even part of the crew. They’re still pack, as Fenrir would say.”
“I love you guys too,” Darcy said, her mouth crooking. “But Rory has a point, Blaise. As warmly as you all welcomed me, it still took me time to feel like I truly belonged. I’m not sure that kind of bond can be forced in a few weeks.”
That had been preying on Blaise’s mind too. She knew all too well that Zephyr wouldn’t delay the ritual much longer. There was too much risk that the horned serpents would start to hatch.
She forced a grin, ignoring the twinge of unease. “Eh, you’ve never taken hotshot boot camp. Trust me. Nothing like extreme physical exertion from sunrise to sunset to bond people together. Look, I’m not demanding that everyone donates a kidney. Just be his friend, okay?”
Rory blew out his breath. “Of course we’ll welcome Zephyr. We’d do that anyway. But this is a lot of pressure to put on us, Blaise. And you’re still ignoring the bigger problem.”
“No, I’m not. This solves everything.” Blaise ticked off items on her fingers. “Step one, everyone becomes best buddies with Zeph. Step two, Zeph becomes the Thunderbird, properly this time. Step three, Zeph zaps all the horned serpents. Step four, everything’s back to normal, and we all go out for shawarma. That just about covers everything.”
“He’s your mate, Blaise,” Rory said. “Even if Zephyr can replace that bond with friendship—and I still think that’s a big ‘if’—you can’t.”
Blaise shrugged. “Well, fortunately, I’m not about to throw myself off a cliff into the talons of a giant bird, so it’s not really an issue, is it?”
Rory sighed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“And you know why that has to be off the table for me.” Blaise looked round at her friends. “You all know. Zephyr knows too, and he accepts the situation. It sucks, but so do a lot of things in life. So everyone had better stop mentioning the m-word, okay?”
“Putting my balls on the line here, but are you really, really sure you can’t mate?” Joe cupped his hands over his groin. “As your sworn bro, I have to ask. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Joe is right.” Seren dropped her voice as a couple of B-squad firefighters went past, arguing over where the fuel for the drip torches might be, and whose fault that was. “Forgive me, Blaise, but I too know what it’s like to try to suppress one’s inner animal. Denying my instincts only made it harder to control them.”
“Right.” Rory leaned forward, his golden eyes alight with conviction. “You said yourself that your dad wasn’t even aware anything had happened. I know you’re scared, and I understand why, but maybe you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”
“It would solve a hell of a lot of problems if you could just mate the man, Blaise,” Darcy agreed. “You should at least explore the possibility.”
Alone out of the group, Callum wasn’t nodding along. He was always quiet and composed, but there was an extra stillness to him now that snagged Blaise’s attention. Catching her watching him, he looked down at his hands. She saw his mouth tighten.
Alone out of all her friends, he’d been present that day. The day she’d lost all control; the day her animal had broken free. He’d seen more than wings unfurling from her back. He’d witnessed the Black Phoenix rise, in all its terrible glory.
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br /> “Not going to happen,” she said.
“But bro—” Joe started.
“Not going to happen,” she repeated, and Joe’s mouth clicked shut.
“Well,” Rory said, after a long, uncomfortable pause. “At least Uncegila isn’t so much of a problem now. Whatever happens, it looks like the Thunderbird will be around to stop the demons, just like it has in previous years.”
Darcy tapped her pen thoughtfully against her notepad. “Unless, of course, Uncegila takes steps to prevent that from happening. While Zephyr doesn’t have his Thunderbird, he’s vulnerable.”
Joe winced. “Now there’s a cheery thought. Thunder Mountain just became a magnet for demon attacks.”
“He was even more vulnerable while he was in a coma, though,” Callum said. “And we didn’t see any hint of demonic activity. Maybe Uncegila doesn’t have any minions left.”
“Or perhaps Uncegila simply underestimated him as a threat,” Seren said. “She did create that serum to kill the Thunderbird, not merely banish it. Lupa certainly believed it had worked.”
“I’ll check in with Lupa.” Darcy scrawled a quick note. “She’s still got that psychic link with Uncegila, even though it’s weaker now. She might be able to tell if Mommy Demon has realized her plan is going pear-shaped.”
“Either way, we’ll protect Zephyr,” Blaise said. “He’ll be safe with us. Right, guys?”
“Certainly,” said a voice from behind her. “Perhaps I might be of some assistance with that?”
“Wystan!” Blaise launched herself at him, just managing to beat Joe. She hugged her friend. “What are you doing here?”
“At the moment, suffocating,” Wystan gasped. He extricated himself from her embrace, though not without a parting squeeze of his own. “My apologies for the late arrival. Have I missed anything?”