Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(5)

“Yeah, well,” Joe muttered, sinking even lower. “That’s me. Fate’s bitch.”

“Well, fortunately we’re here.” Blaise shifted up a gear, flooring the accelerator. “And we’re the only crew that’s here, so we’re going to have to handle it. We may not have fought a live fire together before, but we’ve trained for this.”

“Right.” Wystan leaned forward, bracing himself between the two front seats as the truck bounced over the rutted road. “Trust us, Rory. This is what you recruited us to do, after all.”

Rory blew out his breath. “I don’t like taking you all into an unknown situation.”

Blaise’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. “Let’s not tiptoe around it. You mean you don’t like taking me into an unknown situation.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. Joe opened his mouth, then shut it again. Wystan made a vague, embarrassed gesture that could have signaled either agreement or denial. Callum was still studiously ignoring the rest of them, focused only on the distant fire.

“No, I don’t like it.” Rory didn’t try to hide his honest concern. “This could be a big one, Blaise. You going to be all right?”

“If I’m not,” she said tightly, never taking her eyes off the road, “I’ll tell you.”

He’d known her long enough to know it would be futile to argue. Blaise was even more stubborn than her father. All Rory could do was privately vow to keep an eye on her.

Anyway, he still had his last team member to check up on. Rory opened his mind, feeling down the pack bond.

Fenrir? he sent telepathically. You keeping up?

Birdcat the one not keeping up. Fenrir’s mental tone was faint. Rory had an impression of panting breath and burning muscles, the hellhound stretching himself to his full speed. Metal man-box is slow. Am running ahead of the pack, scouting out the prey.

“Rory.” Callum’s terse voice broke Rory’s concentration. The pegasus shifter was staring at the smoke column with even more intensity, his auburn eyebrows drawn down. “Look.”

Rory narrowed his eyes, focusing. Even when he wasn’t shifted, his vision was far better than an ordinary human’s; the distant smudge resolved into pin-sharp detail. He could make out a tall, narrow structure built on the very top of the ridge, a little distance from the edge of the forest. He didn’t think the building was on fire itself yet, but thick black curtains of smoke curled around it.

Something about the way the smoke was moving struck him as odd. Even though it was a still, calm day down where they were, the top of the mountain seemed to be whipped by a storm. The smoke eddied in tight swirls, as though buffeted by cyclone winds.

For a split second, he saw something moving through the smog.

A dark, jagged shape…like the edge of a vast wing.

“Something’s up there,” Callum said.

Rory’s eyes burned. He didn’t dare blink. “I see it.”

“Oh, come on,” Joe said. “You can’t possibly see anything at this distance. It would have to be the size of a dragon.”

“No.” Callum’s emotionless voice was even flatter than normal. “Bigger.”

“Stop the car,” Rory said to Blaise.

They’d grown up together; she knew exactly what he was thinking, and he knew exactly how much she didn’t like it. “Rory, don’t be an idiot.”

Rory was already unbuckling his seat belt. “All of you, stay here,” he said, simultaneously sending the words telepathically so that Fenrir would hear too. “Don’t come any closer until I give the all clear.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Joe said. He struggled to free himself from his own harness, elbowing the other two in the ribs. “Of course we’re coming with you. Wys, you go with Rory. I’ll ride Cal.”

Callum did not look thrilled by this prospect.

“No,” Rory said firmly. “This isn’t up for debate. I’m going alone.”

“Rory, you can’t,” Wystan said, catching his arm. “Think. You hammered that point into us yourself, during training. Basic protocol, right? No one ever goes in alone. This is no different to a regular fire situation.”

“We’re a team, Rory.” Blaise hadn’t slowed down at all. “We stick together.”

*Pack hunts with the alpha,* Fenrir put in. Otherwise no pack. Just lone wolves running in the same direction.

Rory clenched his jaw in frustration. He didn’t have time for arguments or explanations. He hated having to do this, but his squad left him no choice.

“I said, stop the car.” Alpha power filled the command.

The truck fishtailed as Blaise involuntarily stomped on the brake. Yelped curses came from the back seat.

Even before the car slewed to a halt, Rory was opening the door. He leaned down to haul his gear out from under his seat. He was glad he was already wearing his turn outs—the fire resistant fabric wouldn’t do much to stop anything paranormal, but it would protect him from the wildfire itself.

“Stay here,” he ordered, still using the alpha voice. “Don’t move.”

All four of them froze in position. A telepathic whine came down the pack bond. None of them could speak, held by his command, but their eyes betrayed their furious resentment.