Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(11)

Edith had an abrupt, crystal-clear memory of the hare lunging at her, jaws gaping wide… “I think it had fangs.”

Rory let out a brief, delighted peal of laughter, making her twitch. “There you go, Wystan. Straight from an impartial witness. Also, I’ve just recalled that the animal was seven feet tall and breathed fire.”

Wystan snorted. “Nice try. You aren’t going to live this one down for a long time, Rory.”

They thought she was joking.

She opened her mouth to explain that no, she really did think she’d seen fangs in the hare’s mouth—but stopped. She’d learned long ago to copy people’s expressions and tones, mimicking like a parrot, always a second behind.

Rory had seen the hare too, and he clearly hadn’t noticed anything odd. Maybe she’d been wrong. And both Rory and Wystan were smiling at her. If she didn’t smile back, if she tried to insist that she’d sensed something in the smoke, that there had been something wrong with the hare…

She didn’t want Rory’s warm regard to turn cold. She didn’t want him to stare at her like she was a freak.

“Yes,” she said, her voice sounding high and fake in her own ears. “Only kidding. Haha.”

“Well, you got off lightly.” Wystan finished applying the bandage. “Could have been a lot worse.”

“Yes, it could have been,” said Rory, his grin fading. He hesitated, rubbing his chin. “Edith, did you notice anything odd about the storm?”

She frowned. “What storm? The lightning came out of a clear sky.”

Rory and Wystan exchanged glances.

“Never mind,” Rory said. “I, uh, assumed there had to have been storm clouds. Since you saw lightning. Must just have been freak weather conditions.”

“Rory!” the female firefighter called from the truck. She and the others had unloaded a pile of gear from the back--helmets, backpacks, digging tools, and a chainsaw. “We’re ready. Want me to judge the line?”

“Hang on, I’ll be right there,” Rory shouted back. He turned to Edith. “I’m afraid we were the only squad in range. The rest of our crew is still back at base. We’re short-handed for this fire.”

Her heart hiccupped. For a mad, shining, terrifying moment, she was convinced he was about to ask her to work with them. He’d complimented her fireline, after all.

“So this is going to take a while,” Rory continued. “Will you be all right here?”

Reality reasserted itself. Of course he didn’t need her help. He was a hotshot, an elite wildland firefighter. And she was just…her.

“Yes,” she said, trying to smile. “I need to check out the tower equipment, anyway. Lightning hit it pretty hard.”

“Take this.” Rory unclipped a radio from his belt, handing it to her. “Just in case you need us and don’t have comms. Wystan can show you how to operate it. He’ll stay here with you.”

Wystan stiffened. “I may be green, Rory, but I like to think I’m not entirely useless. You just said yourself we’re under-manned for this fire.”

“And I don’t need a babysitter,” Edith said, irritation sharpening her tone. “Or help working a radio.”

Rory’s eyes narrowed. “You’re hurt. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’m used to being alone,” she snapped. “I’ve been a fire watcher here for years. You’re the one with a concussion. If anyone here shouldn’t be alone, it’s you.”

“The lady has a point, Rory,” Wystan said. “You’re acting rather, ah, erratically. Perhaps you should stay here and keep Edith company.”

Edith had expected Rory to hotly shoot down the suggestion, but to her surprise he hesitated. His gaze flicking from her to the waiting squad and back again. He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair, mussing it up even further.

“No,” he said, shoulders falling in a sigh. He bent to scoop up his fallen helmet. “The squad needs me. But we really can’t leave Edith alone here. Fenrir? Would you mind?”

The dog tilted his head. He stood up, shaking himself with a jingle of harness, and trotted over to her side.

“Thanks,” Rory said to the dog. He looked back at Edith. “Fenrir will stay with you, Edith. He’ll protect you.”

He thought a dog was more competent than she was.

Apparently taking her outraged silence as assent, Rory fitted his helmet back onto his head. “Call me on the radio if you need anything. Anything at all. And stay in the tower until I get back. Let’s go, Wys.”

Edith folded her arms, tucking her hands under to hide the way her fingers were twitching with anger. She glared at Rory’s back as he headed for the truck.

“Who does he think he is, ordering me around?” she said under her breath. “Condescending ass.”

Fenrir made a deep, huffing sneeze that sounded awfully like a stifled laugh. His cold wet nose prodded her side.

Edith felt like pointedly staying outside just as a matter of principle, but the dog poked her again. He was a lot stronger than she was. Edith suspected that if she didn’t do what he wanted, he was quite capable of carrying her off like a chew toy.

“Fine,” she sighed, allowing Fenrir to herd her toward the tower. “What exactly are you supposed to protect me from, anyway? More killer hares?”