Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(72)

“Did it improve the flavor?” Wystan asked hopefully, from somewhere over to Edith’s right.

“Not even slightly. Fenrir, what have you got over there?”

*Frog.* Muffled crunching sounds emanated from the hellhound’s direction. Not sharing.

Rory was a solid warmth against her side. His shoulder brushed against hers as he heaved a sigh.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t tell me you’d actually prefer a raw frog.”

“No.” It was so dark, even sitting right next to him she could barely make out the curve of his smile. “I was just thinking about the time you brought us all beans. Remember that?”

There was a moment of reverent silence, as though the entire squad was gazing at some sacred, shining vision.

Blaise let out a low moan. “I would kill for some beans right now.”

Edith didn’t disagree. Abandoning the last of her rubbery, chemical-infused ration, she leaned against Rory instead. Even sweaty and covered in mud, he still managed to smell good.

He stroked stray tendrils of hair back from her face, tucking them behind her ear. His voice dropped to a deep, gentle rumble, pitched for her alone. “Okay?”

“You’re the one who had a giant snake inside his skin earlier today.” She nestled into the hollow of his shoulder. “And then worked fourteen hours straight cutting line. Are you okay?”

He chuckled ruefully. “I’m about ready to faceplant in the dirt. But at least we stopped the fire from getting to the town.”

His satisfaction glowed in her heart, echoing her own. She smiled, then had to fight back a yawn. “Still got a lot to mop up.”

His lips brushed the top of her head. “Other ground crews are coming in. Together, we’ll get it contained. Buck’s going to make sure we stay on this one to the end.”

“In case the Thunderbird comes back?” She felt him nod. “Do you think it will?”

He was silent for a moment, gazing up at the smoke-shrouded stars. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But I don’t really have a clue what it wants. I don’t understand why it set fire to the forest when its enemy was already dead.”

She found his hand in the dark. “We’re going to have to face it again sometime, aren’t we.”

He let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to hurt it. But Buck’s right. We can’t let it hurt people.”

She squeezed his fingers warningly. “Just as long as you don’t get any silly ideas about going after it alone.”

He bent his head to kiss her. “Never,” he murmured against her lips. “I know where my strength lies.”

His mouth tasted of smoke. Despite her exhaustion, fire lit in her blood. She curved her hands around the back of his neck, drawing him down deeper.

Wystan cleared his throat. “We are all keeping alert for spot fires, aren’t we—ow! Who threw that?”

“Sorry,” Blaise said, sounding not at all sorry. “Just clearing debris off the line. Didn’t know you were over there. And there’s no need for everyone to keep watch. I’ll yell if I sense anything flaring up.”

Rory’s radio buzzed. He drew back from her at last, untangling himself enough to unhook it from his belt. She overheard him exchange a few quiet words with Buck.

“Good news, squad,” Rory announced, clicking the radio off again. “Our relief shift has arrived. Another crew is hiking up to take over for the night. Buck says to make scratch camp and get some sleep.”

“Oh, thank the tides.” Joe paused, his voice turning dismayed. “Wait, scratch camp? Here?”

“We’re going to pick back up at dawn. We have to stay in the area.” Rory got up, pulling her to her own feet. “Fenrir, can you find us a good spot?”

Yes. Pack follow. Will lead to soft grass, good hunting. Fenrir’s red eyes glowed in the night like beacons. Many frogs.

“Camping under the stars,” Joe said gloomily. “Yay. If I’d been you, Edith, I would have stayed up in that fire lookout tower. At least you had a bed up there. And beans.”

“And a bath,” Edith said, grinning. “Well, a bucket, at least. Of cold water.”

“A bucket.” Joe made a pained sound. “Of cold water. Stop tormenting us by speaking of such unimaginable luxuries. I might cry.”

Rory’s low laugh rumbled through her chest. His arm tightened around her shoulders.

“Hope you aren’t regretting your life choices,” he murmured into her ear.

She was filthier than she’d ever thought it was possible to be. Every inch of her skin was black with soot. She was so tired she could have happily curled up right there on the bare earth and slept for a week. Her feet hurt, her lips were cracked, and the self-heating ready-to-eat meal had been utterly disgusting.

She snuggled closer to her mate. “Not in the slightest.”





Epilogue





The roar of the helicopter vibrated his bones. His griffin yowled disconsolately in his mind, tail lashing at the tooth-rattling din.

Sorry, Rory said silently to his animal. We can’t always fly ourselves.

He glanced around, checking on the rest of his squad. Most of them had strained, faraway expressions as they coped with their own agitated beasts. A shifter’s wild nature generally didn’t mix well with man-made forms of air transport.