by Zoe Chant
Blaise twitched her shoulders, as though shaking off the touch of the past. She looked up again, her jaw setting in the stubborn expression he’d come to know so well, and love with all his heart.
“I’m going to bring you here one day, you know,” she said. “For real. Not in dreams.”
“Yes.” He put his hand over hers. “You will. I promise.”
“Good.” Her voice thickened. Her fingers twined through his. “I’ll hold you to that.”
He gripped her hand, feeling her fingers clasping his with equal desperation. “I have to call the Thunderbird. If the horned serpents swarm as we fear, it may take me some time to hunt them all down and eliminate them. But I will come back, Blaise.”
Blaise stared down at their joined hands. “You couldn’t hear Fenrir.”
It took him a moment to work out what she meant. “You’re worried that means I’m not truly part of the pack. That the squad’s friendship won’t be enough to hold me here.”
“Do you think it will?”
He hesitated, but he’d never lied to her. “No.”
She made a dry sound that wasn’t quite a laugh or a sob. “And you’re still certain you won’t get lost again. That it’s somehow going to be different this time.”
“It is different this time.” He squeezed her fingers, making her meet his eyes again. “I have you.”
“You don’t, though. We’re not mated.”
“I don’t need a psychic bond to love you. Blaise, there is nothing, nothing that could keep me apart from you. Not Uncegila, not the Thunderbird, not all the storms in the world. I love you. And I am going to come back.”
“You thought that last time too,” she whispered, the barest breath. Her mouth firmed. “Will you do something for me, Zephyr?”
“Anything.”
“Wait.” She shook her head, forestalling his barely formed protest. “Not for long. I know you can’t. But give me a day. Just one more day.”
He could feel the Thunderbird circling, in the deeper dream. He could sense it rising, impatient lightning flickering around its wings. At the back of his mind, he could feel the cold slither of nightmares, writhing ever closer to the soft skin of the waking world.
He let out his breath. “All right. I need a little time to prepare myself for the ritual, anyway. But what difference can one day make?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.” She rose like a warrior queen, fists clenching. “Wake us up, Zephyr. I need to make a phone call.”
Chapter 23
Her phone screen glowed cold blue in the darkness of her cabin. Blaise flicked through her clock app, checking time zones. The sun hadn’t yet edged above the Montana horizon, but it would be a civilized hour in England.
It still took a dozen rings before someone picked up, and when he did, his voice sounded muzzy with sleep. “Blaise?”
She closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “Hi, Dad.”
Rustling sounds, as though he was sitting up. “I was wondering when you would call.”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s… been a weird couple of weeks.”
“I’m aware.” Ash’s voice, always calm, turned positively dry. “Your friends do remember to call their parents once in a while. Griff, John, Chase and Hugh have kept me informed.”
She winced. “Sorry. Again. I know I should have called earlier.”
“You weren’t ready earlier,” he said gently. “But I take it something has changed.”
“Yeah.” She moistened her dry lips. “Look, can we switch to video chat? I… I kinda need to see you.”
A tiny pause. “Give me a moment to get dressed. I’m passing you over to your mother.”
“Okay,” Blaise said, and then frowned. “Wait, isn’t it past noon in Brighton? What are you still doing in bed?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” said a different voice, warm with amusement. “Hello, love.”
Something in Blaise’s heart unknotted. “Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”
“Oh, can’t complain.” A reproachful note entered Rose’s loving tone. “Apart from the fact that I’ve been having to blackmail one of my honorary nephews into sending me surreptitious pictures of the nice young man who’s dating my daughter.”
“I am going to beat Joe over the head with a Pulaski,” Blaise muttered. “Even if I have to bribe Seren with an entire year’s supply of chocolate to stand aside.”
Her mother’s rich, throaty laugh reverberated from the phone speaker. “I never said it was Joe. And no, I’m not going to reveal my spy, so save your breath. My lips are sealed.”
Blaise made a mental note to hire Darcy to do some digging. “Well, guess I don’t need to give you a rundown on everything that’s been happening around here after all. I should have known you’d already be fully informed.”
“Not on the most important matter.” Rose’s tone softened, turning more serious. “I know that your animal has been causing you issues. Your father has been able to sense how hard you’ve been fighting it. We’re both worried for you, love. How are you doing?”
“Not great,” Blaise said, in what was probably the understatement of the century, if not the millennia. “I thought I had a handle on things, but actually I was just ignoring the problem in the hopes that it would go away.”
“At least it’s only taken you two weeks to figure out that won’t work,” her mother said. “It took your father twenty years, and even then he had to get kidnapped by evil warlocks before he finally saw sense. Well done, love.”
Blaise had to grin, despite everything. “Thanks. But that’s why I’m calling now.”
“Because the problem won’t go away?”
“Not exactly.” She swallowed again. “I’m scared that it will.”
“Ah.” Her mother didn’t say anything for a moment. “My spy told me about Zephyr’s Thunderbird, and this ritual-thingy-whatchamacallit. From what I gather, he’s the kind of man who protects others, no matter what it costs him. Reminds me of someone. Two people, actually. He’s still determined to go through with it, even if he can’t come back?”
“That’s the thing. He’s sure he will come back. But I know he won’t. I’ve faced his Thunderbird, Mom. It’s as powerful as the Phoenix. Zeph’s got no chance of withstanding that kind of force by himself, no matter what he thinks. He’s making the exact same mistake he made last time. I know he is.”
“And you can’t let that happen,” her mother said, simply. “So you’re going to save him.”
It wasn’t a question, or even an expression of hope. Just a statement of fact. Rain was wet; fire was hot; Blaise would save her mate.
Her throat closed up at that perfect, diamond-hard faith. The same faith her mother had always had in her. That both her parents had always given her, in unstinting abundance, unwavering even in the face of her worst mistakes.
“Yes,” she said, when she could speak again. “I am. That’s why I need to talk to Dad. To you both, really, so stick around. What the hell—uh, heck is taking him so long? He only needed to put on a shirt, not a three-piece suit.”
“Ah,” her mother said, in an odd tone that Blaise couldn’t interpret. “Well. The thing is…”
“What?” Blaise stared at the thumbnail photo of her parents on her phone screen, as though that could tell her anything. “Don’t tell me he really is putting on a tie. Even for Dad, that would be ridiculously formal.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him, but no.” Rose blew out her breath. “Oh dear. You’re going to be cross, but we really were worried about you. And even with the Sea Gates, Montana is so very far away. So we decided to take, well, a few precautions. Just in case. I promise, your friends didn’t know. Don’t be angry with them.”
“Okay, now I’m really starting to freak out here. What’s going on?”
“Well, I suppose you’re about to find out anyway,” Rose muttered, which did nothing to soothe Blaise’s tension. She cleared her throat. “You know how your phone call woke us u
p?”
“If you’re about to tell me what you were doing in bed at noon, I’m hanging up now.”
“We were asleep,” her mother continued, ignoring this (absolutely sincere) threat. “Because it’s not noon here.”
Blaise glanced out the window, just to check that it really was still the small hours of the morning and she hadn’t somehow overslept by twenty hours. Before she could ask her mother what the hell—or heck—she was talking about, a blaze of fire streaked across the dark gray sky.
“What the fuck?” Blaise breathed, and then winced. “Uh, sorry, Mom. Look, I gotta go check something out. Tell Dad I’ll call back as soon as I can, okay?”
Her mother started to say something, but Blaise was already thumbing her phone screen. Tossing the device onto her bed, she jammed her feet into her boots.
“Like I don’t already have enough problems without goddamn comets, or missiles, or whatever the hell that was,” she muttered as she hastily tied up her laces. “It was bad enough with horned snakes erupting out of the ground. If they’re dropping out of the sky now, we’re really going to have issues.”
Still growling curses under her breath, she flung open the door—and stopped dead.
The man on the doorstep had been about to knock. He lowered his hand, tucking it behind his back. He didn’t smile—he rarely ever did—but his lined face softened at the sight of her. The first light of dawn caught in his clear, calm eyes.
“Hello, Blaise,” said the Phoenix.
Zephyr breathed a silent prayer of thanks as he finally spotted Blaise through the trees. She hadn’t been in her cabin, or the storeroom, or even in her customary brooding spot down by the stream. He’d only come to check this trail head on a nameless hunch—but here she was, leaning against a tree, gazing up at the distant peak of Thunder Mountain.
“There you are.” He hurried toward her, boots kicking up dry dirt from the parched ground. “We were worried when you didn’t turn up for breakfast. Are you—”
The rest of the sentence died in his throat as he realized she wasn’t alone. A figure stood at Blaise’s side, spine straight, hands folded behind his back. The man turned, regarding him without any hint of surprise.
He wasn’t imposing. Just a man in late middle age, of average height, with a lined face and gray hair. He didn’t have Blaise’s cocksure attitude, or her vibrant coloring. They didn’t look like each other at all.
Except for the eyes.
Zephyr knew who he was, without a shadow of a doubt. He would have known even if Blaise had never mentioned him. That calm, penetrating gaze seared through his soul like sunlight through glass.
He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. It was all he could do not to step back. “Sir.”
The Phoenix inclined his head. He didn’t look away, but when he spoke, it was to Blaise. “You didn’t tell him where you’d gone?”
“I was kind of preoccupied, Dad,” Blaise said, with a hint of defensiveness. “What with someone unexpectedly dropping out of the sky like a meteor.”
“And he found you anyway.” Blaise’s father nodded, and Zephyr had the odd sense of having passed a test that he hadn’t known he’d entered. “Good.”
Blaise wrinkled her nose. “Daaaaaad. Stop that. You’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m your father.” The corner of the Phoenix’s mouth curved upward the tiniest fraction. “It’s part of the job description.”
Nonetheless, he did… something. Or possibly stopped doing something. Zephyr couldn’t have said exactly what happened, but he suddenly remembered how to breathe, and also that he currently wasn’t.
With a strangled gasp, he sucked in a lungful of air. He really, really wished he’d taken the time to shave properly before heading out to search for Blaise.
And also that he’d come alone.
“Zeph?” Buck called. His uncle pushed through the trees, scowling. “Did you find her yet? Motherloving shifters, always hearing the goddamn call of nature and haring off—”
The Phoenix’s gaze turned in his direction. Buck stopped dead, just like Zephyr himself had done. There was abruptly a lot more tension in the air.
Blaise cleared her throat, breaking the ominous silence. “Um, Dad, this is Zeph’s uncle, Superintendent Buck Frazer. Chief, this is Ash Swanmay. My dad.”
Ash and Buck continued to stare at each other like rival cats, unblinking. Zephyr wasn’t sure whether he should step between them, or body-tackle Blaise into the nearest cover.
“Your daughter’s a top notch hotshot,” Buck said, in much the same tones as hand over the money and no one gets hurt. “You should be damn proud of her.”
“I am,” Ash replied, his own voice perfectly level. “She speaks very highly of your nephew.”
Apparently, this was some sort of declaration of truce. The atmospheric pressure lowered from ‘tornado warning’ to merely ‘cloudy, with a strong chance of thunderstorms.’
“My apologies for the intrusion,” Ash said to Buck. His gaze flicked to Zephyr. “My daughter called me, on a matter of some urgency. I felt it would be best to talk in person. And I wished to meet you. Both of you.”
“Not that I’m not delighted, sir, but how did you get here so fast?” Zephyr asked. “I thought you were in England.”
“He’s supposed to be,” Blaise said. She glared at her father, though Zephyr could see the smile fighting to break free. “But, as it turns out, my parents decided to take a vacation. Without telling me.”
“It seemed wise to be in the area,” Ash murmured. “Just in case. And I reiterate that your friends knew nothing of it either. Please do not set them on fire.”
Buck folded his arms, his feet still set in a stance that was just a little too close to combat-ready. “And exactly why are you here?”
“That is not mine to reveal.” Ash looked at Blaise. “You should take time to think this through.”
Blaise nodded, her face somber. “I will. As much as I can. I have to go to work, Dad. Can we talk later?”
“When your duties allow.” Ash tilted his head toward Buck. “My mate is also in the area, Superintendent Frazer. She would very much like to catch up with our daughter, and to meet you and your nephew as well. I understand that this is a working facility, and you are no doubt exceedingly busy with preparations for the imminent season, but perhaps you can spare some time this evening?”
“Always have a bit of a celebration at the end of the last day of training. Crew tradition. Families welcome.” Buck scratched his chin, looking Ash up and down. “Can you cook?”
Chapter 24
“I can’t tell if they’re bonding,” Rory murmured, watching the show with an expression of morbid fascination. “Or if this is some kind of strange dominance display.”
Blaise took another swig of her beer, unable to tear her own eyes away from the spectacle. “Both, I think.”
Over at the vast brick-built grill, Buck’s spatula smacked Ash’s tongs away from a steak. The Superintendent gesticulated with the tool, heatedly explaining something about juices and searing. Ash tilted his head, appearing to accept the correction, and then—the moment Buck turned his back—flipped the steak anyway.
“I had no idea it was possible to turn grilling into a competitive sport,” Joe said in hushed, awe-struck tones. “They’re either going to murder each other in the next two minutes, or be best friends for life.”
“I’m not sure which of those options is more terrifying.” Rory frowned. “Is it just me, or do the coals on Buck’s side keep flaring up?”
Right on cue, a tongue of flame licked over the Superintendent’s painstakingly marinated chicken pieces. Even from across the parking lot, Blaise could hear Buck’s curse. With the serenity of a saint, Ash flipped another steak.
Blaise slid from her perch on the hood of their crew transport. “I’d better intervene before my dad gets me fired.”
“Blaise.” Rory caught her elbow. “Time’s running out. We haven’t wanted to push you
, but we should talk about tomorrow. About Zephyr, and the ritual.”
“It’s all right.” She laid a hand on his arm. “There’s nothing to talk about, Rory. It’s okay. I have a plan.”
Joe’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Bro, you know we’d die for you. But if you’re still hoping we can all hold onto Zephyr with the magic of friendship—”
“I’m not. Look, I know everyone’s worried. Honestly, I’m scared shitless too. But this is something Zeph and I have to tackle on our own. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
Rory’s golden eyes searched hers. After a moment, he nodded, releasing her.
“We do,” he said, in a deep, soft voice. “We’re here if you need us.”
She hugged him, and then Joe. “I know. I’m gonna go save Buck from my dad, or possibly vice versa. If you see Zeph, tell him I need to talk to him, okay?”
The space around the fire pit was packed with crew members and their families. Firefighters from different squads swapped bragging boasts about past seasons, showing off in front of their spouses and kids. Despite all the smiling faces, there was a tense edge to the party. After tonight, the crew would be on the books; available for active assignment. Everyone was aware that this could be the last meal they would share with their loved ones for several weeks.
The strained carnival atmosphere matched her own mood perfectly. Blaise cut her way through the crowd, exchanging nods and waves without stopping to chat. Then she heard a name that stopped her in her tracks.
“So, there we were, this big fire breathing down our necks, and Fenrir comes bounding out of the smoke with his mouth full of baby squirrels,” Tanner was telling a wide-eyed circle of kids. “That giant dog carried every one of those little critters out of there like they were his own puppies, gentle as you please. Such a good boy.”
Fenrir loomed behind Tanner, listening to the story as well. Even though he was in human form, Blaise could practically see his tail wagging.
An adolescent girl—who Blaise had a vague recollection was the daughter of one of Tanner’s B-squad firefighters—heaved a wistful sigh. “Fenrir sounds amazing. I wish I could meet him.”