by Zoe Chant
“I’d still like to meet Lupa, even if only virtually,” Zephyr said. “And the others too, seeing that they were dragged into this fight. Will you—”
“So you want us to focus on core stability exercises, Rory?” Callum said loudly, without any warning. “Crunches and frontal planes?”
“Wha—?” Rory cut himself off, eyes widening. He adopted a brisk, professional tone. “Right. Focus on form, and make sure to extend your back. Not too far though. We don’t want any injuries before the season even starts.”
The reason for the abrupt change of topic became apparent a moment later, as B-squad came jogging round the corner of the building. They streamed past with a chorus of friendly jibes and greetings, heading for the grassy area that the crew used for outdoor exercises. Last came Tanner, ambling along behind the rest of his squad. Catching sight of their huddle, he stopped, shaggy head tilting quizzically.
“Thought A-squad had the gym first session, Rory,” he said in his soft back country drawl. “Or did I mix up the schedule somehow?”
“We’re just waiting for Wystan to get here,” Rory replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we don’t overrun into B-squad’s slot.”
“See as you don’t. My boys and girls need some toughening up.” Tanner gave Fenrir a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Not like this beast you’ve got here. Big enough already, eh?”
Darcy’s smirk was more than a little dirty. “Yep. Definitely as much as I can handle.”
From the way Tanner colored behind his beard, he hadn’t intended the innuendo. He touched the brim of his hat. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t see you there. How’s the investigation going?”
“Still got a lot of old records to get through,” Darcy said, with the ease of someone used to working undercover. Buck had told the rest of the crew that she was an arson investigator looking into last season’s fires, to explain her continued presence on the base. She popped up on her toes, giving Fenrir a hug. “I should get back to it. Wish me luck?”
With a deep, growling chuckle, Fenrir wrapped his hands around his mate’s waist. Darcy was solidly built, yet Fenrir lifted her entirely off her feet as though she weighed nothing at all. Good-natured catcalls and wolf whistles erupted from B-squad as the pair kissed.
Darcy slid back down Fenrir, grinning from ear to ear. Flipping a finger up at the background hecklers, she sauntered off, an extra swing in her step. Fenrir watched her leave, smiling.
Tanner clapped Fenrir on the back again. “Got yourself quite a partner there, you lucky dog.”
“Yep,” Joe said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “He definitely is—ow!”
“Sorry,” Blaise said, not sounding sorry at all. “Was that your foot?”
“How’s B-squad coming along, Tanner?” Rory said, with the speed of a man seizing on the first topic change that sprang to mind. “Think everyone will pass the fitness tests?”
“There’s always one or two who let their physical condition slide over the off-season, but I’ll whip ‘em into shape. B-squad won’t let the crew down.” Tanner’s gaze fell on Zephyr, and his smile slipped. “Hope the same is true for your lot.”
Like the rest of the crew, Tanner had taken the news of Zephyr’s application with considerably less enthusiasm than the shifters of A-squad. No one had been less than polite, but they also hadn’t teased and joked with him the way they did with each other. It was obvious they all thought Buck had only allowed him to join the training group because he was his nephew. To be fair, they weren’t wrong.
Blaise bristled. “Our squad will be on top form this season. All of us. You just wait.”
Tanner scratched at his beard, still looking rather dubious. Zephyr couldn’t blame him. His performance so far could be most kindly described as ‘not entirely incompetent.’ There was turning out to be a lot more to firefighting than mere physical fitness.
“Well, A-squad’s got a good track record at training up newbies,” Tanner conceded. “I’ll give you that much. I had my doubts about Edith and Seren, and they turned out to be real powerhouses. And Fenton here is already shaping up to follow in those mighty big footsteps. One of these days, Rory, I’m going to twist your arm until you finally spill the beans on just how you find so many top-notch recruits.”
Rory’s smile turned rather fixed. “Aha. Ha. Just lucky, I guess.”
“Look,” Zephyr said, glad to be able to rescue his squad leader. He raised a hand, pointing down the dirt track. “Here comes Wystan.”
Too late, he realized his mistake. Tanner followed the line of his finger, squinting straight through the approaching unicorn. “I don’t see anyone.”
Zephyr cursed in his head. He kept forgetting that most people couldn’t see mythic shifters in their animal forms. “Er, my mistake. Thought I glimpsed him coming through the trees. But I’m sure he’ll turn up any minute now.”
The silver unicorn dropped into a trot, weaving neatly through B-squad. None of the firefighters so much as blinked as it went past, even though any one of them could have put out a hand and touched the pale, gleaming hide. Swerving, it vanished behind the gym building. A moment later, Wystan hurried round the other side, smoothing down windswept hair.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, in between pants. “I have no excuse for my unforgivable tardiness.”
“Of course you have, Wys,” Rory said, golden eyes crinkling. “The best excuse in the world.”
“How’s the little one?” Tanner asked. “Home yet?”
Wystan shook his head, still catching his breath. “She’s doing well, but she still needs to put on a bit more weight. I really am sorry for my late arrival. I was at the hospital all night. Had to dash home to change.”
Joe patted Wystan’s shoulder sympathetically. “Not getting much sleep, huh?”
Wystan winced. “Is it that obvious?”
“Have shirt on backwards.” Fenrir gestured at the label sticking out at Wystan’s throat. “And inside out.”
With a deep sigh, Wystan started to struggle out of his T-shirt. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
Tanner chuckled. “At least you got your pants on correctly. For a new father, that’s doing pretty well, I’d say.”
“No doubt I will manage to forget those tomorrow,” Wystan said, muffled by fabric. His head emerged from the T-shirt, wearing an even more pained expression. “It’s a miracle Buck hasn’t fired me yet.”
“I don’t think there’s much risk of that,” Zephyr said, hiding a smile. “Did you have time to get some breakfast? Rory’s set us a pretty full schedule.”
“Breakfast,” Wystan said, as though it was a foreign concept. He rubbed at the dark shadows under his eyes. “Yes. I had breakfast… yesterday? Or was that the day before?”
“Here.” Fenrir pulled a protein bar out of his pocket, offering it to Wystan. “Brought snacks.”
With a look of gratitude, Wystan tore open the wrapper. “You are a true hero, Fenrir.”
Tanner cocked his head. “Fenrir?”
Wystan froze, his mouth full of protein bar.
Blaise forced a laugh, though there was a panicked edge to it. “Wow, you are tired, Wystan. Mixing up names like that.”
Wystan swallowed hard and coughed. “Yes. Very tired. My apologies, Fenton. Force of habit.”
“Easy mistake to make,” Tanner said kindly. “Y’all sure were fond of that dog. Funny how your name is so similar, Fenton.”
“No,” Fenrir rumbled. “Not really.”
Rory clapped his hands together, with a slight air of desperation. “Well, now that we’re all here—and mostly dressed—we’d better get to work. See you at the crew meeting later, Tanner.”
“Sure thing.” Tanner hesitated, giving Fenrir a lingering, curious look before shaking his head. “Huh. Y’know, somehow he even looks like Fenrir. Now I’m going to be slipping up too.”
Zephyr followed the rest of the squad into the gym. Once Rory had closed the door, Wystan groaned, slumping onto a weig
ht bench.
“My sincere apologies, everyone.” Wystan buried his head in his hands. “I’d promise that it won’t happen again, but in my current state, I’m barely able to remember my own name.”
Rory squeezed the unicorn shifter’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Wystan. No harm done.”
“Despite some people’s best efforts,” Blaise muttered, shooting Fenrir a glare.
“Let’s get started, or we won’t finish before the end of our hour,” Zephyr said, to head off the incipient bickering. “Rory, are we doing the same routine as yesterday?”
“Right, but let’s switch up the pairs,” Rory said. “I’ll move between groups, since we’re an odd number. Everyone else, pick a partner.”
“Wystan,” Callum said. He gave the unicorn shifter one of his rare, brief smiles. “We can talk sleepless babies. Beth still gets us up in the night, and she’s nearly two.”
Wystan shuddered. “Please don’t tell me that.”
With an effort, Zephyr didn’t glance in Blaise’s direction. Instead, he turned to Fenrir. “Since I paired up with Joe yesterday, I guess it’s me and you.”
“Sorry, bro,” Joe said before Fenrir could even open his mouth. He draped an arm around Fenrir’s shoulders. “Already claimed. I get the big guns today.”
“What, you saying I can’t spot for you?” Blaise folded her arms. “Joe, you have never in your entire life lifted anything close to my limit.”
“Sorry! Can’t dally, too much lifting to do!” Joe sang out, already dragging Fenrir away. The hellhound looked back over his shoulder with a wry shrug.
That left Zephyr, Blaise, and several fathoms of uncomfortable silence.
Zephyr made himself look at her, doing his best to conceal the way his heart thumped against his ribs. He felt ridiculously as though he was about to ask his crush if she’d like to go to the prom. Not that he’d ever had the chance to experience that particular rite of passage; at least, not for himself.
“This is awkward,” he said. “But we can’t keep circling each other like rival cats. Shall we start with weights or floor work?”
Blaise’s tongue darted out, moistening her lips. “Actually, I already finished my sets. Look, you pair up with Rory. I’ve, uh, got to go do some maintenance on the chainsaws. Catch up with you on the hike, okay?”
“Blaise—” Zephyr started, but she’d already bolted out the door.
“Well, that was a marked improvement,” Rory said from behind him. “A whole eight seconds before Blaise lost her nerve and bailed. By the end of the season, you two might even manage a whole conversation.”
With a sigh, Zephyr turned. “I appreciate that you all mean well. But in all honesty, these efforts to force us together aren’t helping. ”
“Mmm.” Rory picked up a weight from a rack, tossing it idly from hand to hand. “Have you spent any time together outside of training?”
He let out a breath of ironic laughter. “We don’t all have shifter stamina, you know. Outside of training, I’ve mainly been asleep.”
Rory lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds like the ideal time to talk to her.”
He had been tempted, in the drifting halfway state between consciousness and sleep. It would have been easy to let himself fall out of his own yearning dreams and into hers. But he’d promised to keep his distance.
He shook his head. “I haven’t dreamwalked at all. I can’t, not without risking bringing her with me. And that would only make things worse. Strengthen the connection between us.”
Rory handed him the weight, and Zephyr had to lock his knees to avoid staggering. “Bicep curls. Set your feet wider. Good. I thought connections were exactly what you needed.”
“Not that one. You know that’s not possible.”
“I know Blaise thinks it’s not possible.” Rory selected a weight for himself. It was at least three times the size of the one he’d handed Zephyr. “The rest of us aren’t so sure.”
“That has been rather obvious,” Zephyr said wryly. “Rory, please. Don’t make this harder for Blaise than it already is. Respect her choices. She’s the expert on herself, after all.”
Rory blew out his breath. “I’m not saying she isn’t. But Zephyr, I’ve known Blaise all her life. Until a few years ago, she used to shift all the time, without any issues at all. One bad incident, and she completely locked her animal away. That’s not healthy for any shifter.”
“Blaise isn’t ‘any’ shifter. Her situation is unique.”
“I know. But still, I’m worried. She won’t talk about any of this. Not what happened back then, or how she struggles with her animal now. She won’t even talk to us about you. It’s like she thinks if she ignores it all hard enough, it will go away.”
“These things take time. Blaise has to decide when she wants to talk. All you can do is let her know that you’re willing to listen.” Zephyr’s arm was starting to burn. He gritted his teeth, keeping up with Rory’s pace. “I’m glad she has you, and the rest of the squad. It’s a comfort to know you’ll be there for her, when she’s ready.”
Rory gave him a troubled look, still lifting and lowering his dumbbell. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Zephyr was beginning to understand why his uncle muttered motherloving shifters on an hourly basis.
“That sounds,” the griffin shifter said slowly, “like you know that you won’t be here for her.”
Zephyr let the weight fall to his side, rolling his shoulder. “I appreciate that everyone is doing their best to welcome me. I’m grateful for that, truly. But let’s be honest. You don’t think Blaise’s plan will work either.”
The steady movement of Rory’s weight paused. “I don’t think it’s the best option, no. But if you’re certain it won’t work, why are you going along with it?”
“Well, it’s not like I have a better one. And who knows, maybe I’m wrong. At least this way, I get to spend my last few weeks with her.” He attempted to make a joke out of it. “Even if only for eight seconds at a time.”
Rory didn’t smile. “Zephyr, what do you think will happen to Blaise if you disappear again?”
Zephyr had been trying not to think about that. “Well, I suppose she’d grieve. But she won’t be alone, at least. She’ll have you. All of you.”
“Yes,” Rory said grimly. “And it won’t be enough. You are her mate. If she loses you, it will destroy her.”
“And none of us are going to let that happen,” Joe’s unexpected comment nearly made Zephyr drop his weight on his foot. “We’re going to keep you two together. I don’t know how, except possibly with several rolls of duct tape, but failure isn’t an option.”
Looking around, Zephyr discovered that the rest of the squad had obviously been listening in on the conversation. Now they were all nodding, every face set in lines of utter determination.
“Blaise helped me to find happiness with my mate,” Wystan said. “Whatever I can do to assist her now, I will.”
“We all will,” Callum said. “Together.”
“She is pack,” Fenrir said, in his deep, rumbling voice. “You are hers. One of us, now, always. Pack protects pack.”
Zephyr had to swallow the lump in his throat. “I… thank you. All of you.”
“One way or another, you are going to be here for Blaise.” Rory’s eyes shone lion-gold, catching the light. “So you’d better figure out how to make that work.”
Chapter 14
Burn.
Even through her respirator mask, she could taste the smoke; thick and choking, burning her eyes. Under her protective gear, her clothes stuck to her skin, drenched in futile sweat. Blind in the choking smog, she fumbled along the walls, trying to orientate herself. Searching for a window, a door, anything.
Burn.
There was no way out. There was never a way out. She knew what was coming. Knew what was going to happen, but she couldn’t stop it. There was—
A door.
An impossible door, cool to the touch despite the oven-hot air. A door th
at had never been there before. Not in real life, nor in dreams.
Burn!
She wrenched the door open, nearly tearing it from its hinges in her haste. Air rushed past her, like an indrawn breath; not bringing life, but death. The bright heat of flash over bloomed like a nuclear explosion, but she was already diving, tucking herself into a ball as the shockwave picked her up and threw her—
Out into calm, cool clouds.
“Hello, Blaise,” said Zephyr. He smiled. “I’m glad you decided to join me.”
“Not as glad as I am to be here.” Blaise got to her feet, too relieved to even be disconcerted by the fact that she wasn’t standing on anything in particular. “That dream wasn’t shaping up to be rainbows and fluffy kittens. But I guess you could tell that, seeing as how you yanked me out of it.”
“No, actually.” Zephyr wore dark gray jeans and a plain, slate blue T-shirt, similar to his clothes in real life; but the colors shifted subtly whenever he moved, like oil on water, or storm clouds. “I didn’t want to intrude on your privacy. I only brushed your dream lightly, enough to shape a way out, if you chose to take it.”
“Well, your timing was impeccable.” Blaise dusted herself off, discovering in the process that her urban firefighting gear had disappeared, replaced by her usual off-duty outfit of comfy jeans and a Thunder Mountain Hotshots crew shirt. “Most days I manage to work hard enough that I switch off the second I hit the pillow, but now and then my subconscious decides to be a real bitch. So if this isn’t a rescue call, what’s up?”
He ran his fingers through his long hair, looking a little self-conscious. “I need to talk with you. This seemed like the best place.”
“Are you sure about that?” Blaise cast a nervous glance up at the cloud-filled sky—not that there really was an up, or any other direction, for that matter. “Don’t want your big flappy gatecrasher turning up again.”
“It won’t.” He tipped his head—not up, but down, as though peering into water. “I can sense it, circling in the deeper dream, but the Thunderbird will keep its distance. Until I call, at least.”