Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(52)

She yanked frantically at Callum’s seatbelt as the bear drew back for another blow. With the strength of desperation, she wrestled him free, hauling him out of reach just as the bear’s paw smashed through the glass.

She scrabbled into the back of the vehicle, dragging Callum’s limp body over the rows of seats. It wasn’t much more cover, but at least the bear couldn’t just scoop them out like shucking an oyster.

A big black nose poked through the hole in the windscreen. Nostrils flared, huffing. The snout withdrew, replaced by a beady, gleaming eye. It studied them for a long moment.

The eye blinked, and disappeared. The truck bounced as the bear took its paws off the hood. In the narrow gap between the seats, she caught a glimpse of the massive silhouette dropping to all fours again. She could hear its claws clicking on asphalt as it circled the vehicle.

It was coming round the back. No point ripping apart the front of the truck when it could just tear off the rear door.

That’s not right, it’s not possible, bears don’t do that! some distant part of her brain was yammering. But there wasn’t time for disbelief.

Instinctively, she groped in the darkness. The bear’s heavy, panting breath sounded from outside the truck, barely a foot away. A weapon, she needed a weapon. Something, anything—

Her hands closed on a familiar shape.

Bless Seth and his arrogant disregard for regulations.

She’d never thought she’d be thankful for B-squad’s sloppiness, but she was now. Encouraged by Seth’s lax attitude, they always took every chance to cut corners and shave a few minutes off their chores.

By, for example, leaving their gear in their truck rather than properly returning it to the tool store.

Claws scrabbled at the rear door. With a shriek of metal, the hinges gave way.

In one smooth, practiced motion, Edith yanked the chainsaw to life.

The blade roared like an animal in the confines of the truck. The bear recoiled, only just managing to jerk its foreleg back in time. It stumbled backward, tripping over its own paws in its haste to evade her swing.

She screamed wordlessly at it, brandishing the snarling chainsaw. Any ordinary animal would have fled in panic, but the bear just retreated a few more steps, ears flattening.

The heavy muzzle swung, looking from her to the sky. The bear shifted its weight on its paws as if in indecision.

Its eyes met hers again. It wasn’t the still, enigmatic regard of an animal. A cold, assessing intelligence cut through her as though spreading her out for dissection. There was a person behind that stare.

A low growl built in the bear’s throat. The huge muscles of its shoulders bunched.

With a roar, it charged.

Time seemed to slow. The bear was a tsunami of teeth and claws, blocking out the world. The chainsaw felt as useless as a toy sword in her hands. She braced herself anyway.

A tawny blur streaked out of the sky, smashing the bear aside. The huge animal roared in pain and outrage, tumbling head-over-paws and crashing into a pine tree.

Edith stared.

A creature crouched between her and the bear. Golden wings spread wide, shielding her behind vast pinions. A tufted tail like a lion’s lashed from side to side. Powerful muscles gathered to spring.

She recognized those feline haunches, that eagle head. She knew what it was.

It was…utterly impossible.

The bear rose to its full height, rather more stiffly than before. Blood streaked its fur. It roared at the creature in challenge.

The griffin’s huge beak opened. Its answering shriek split the air. It rose up on its hind legs too, dwarfing even the grizzly. Every golden talon unsheathed, razor-sharp and ready.

The bear flinched. It looked past the griffin, straight at her. Hatred burned in those red, alien depths.

Then it turned tail, and fled into the woods.

The griffin took one great bound after it, then stopped. Its enormous wings shivered for a moment, as though it was on the verge of taking to the air in pursuit of the bear.

The griffin shook itself a little, turning with swift, predatory grace. It folded its wings, the glimmering feathers tucking neatly against its sides. Deep golden eyes fixed on her.

For all the griffin’s size and strength, its gaze was as gentle and warm as sunlight. A strange jolt of recognition gripped her heart. Somehow, she knew those eyes.

The griffin cocked its head, its attention sliding past her to focus on Callum’s unconscious form. It hissed, surging forward.

She’d almost forgotten she was still holding the idling chainsaw. She raised it again, though it felt even more ludicrous to threaten this glorious creature with such a mundane tool.

“P-Please don’t try to eat him,” she said, blocking the griffin’s path. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The griffin blinked at her.

It settled back on its haunches. And then it settled back more, its outline blurring, shifting into—

“Edith.” Rory straightened, holding up his hands. “It’s me.”





Chapter 25





Seth tripped, one boot jarring into the weeds. Cursing, he cast around with the feeble beam of his cellphone flash, finding the edge of the road again.

The growl of an approaching engine brightened his black mood. He turned hopefully, sticking out his thumb.

“Well, screw you too!” he yelled, as the headlights swept past without pausing.