Wildfire Sea Dragon (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew Book 3), page 13
“It’s hurt,” Edith said. “That’s why it came to us. It needs help.”
Rory held her back as she tried to move toward the creature. “It needs professional help. Wystan, is Candice at the ranch?”
“Yes, and I’ve already contacted her telepathically.” Wystan smiled. “She should be here any—”
A bright flash of white light flared at his side. It faded to reveal a stocky woman with short blonde hair and a brisk, no-nonsense expression. Old burn scars marked one side of her face, disappearing under the collar of her checked flannel shirt. She carried a large first aid kit in one hand and a tranquillizer rifle in the other.
She was also flanked by a pair of unicorns.
The smaller one, who was barely more than a foal, pranced to Wystan’s side. She nudged at him with her velvety muzzle, snorting. Seven was no expert in equine body language, but even she could tell that the unicorn was concerned.
“It’s all right, Flash.” Wystan patted the young unicorn’s soft flank. “I’m just tired. Thank you for bringing Candice and your mother here so fast.”
Candice and the other unicorn were already approaching the stricken Thunderbird. The huge creature stirred weakly, turning its head. Its eyes were the electric white of lightning, without pupil or iris. They fixed on Candice and the unicorn in an unreadable, alien stare.
Joe was still in dragon form. A deep, warning growl rumbled in his throat. Seven could tell that he was poised and ready to defend Candice if the Thunderbird so much as twitched.
“It’s all right, buddy.” Candice spoke directly to the Thunderbird, her voice soft and gentle. She edged toward the creature, holding out her hand, her body language loose and unthreatening. “We’re here to help you. Don’t be scared. We just want to help.”
The Thunderbird’s eyelids lowered, hiding that burning, captive storm. It opened its injured wing a little wider, holding it away from its body.
“That’s it.” Candice ducked under the enormous pinions without a trace of hesitation. “Let’s see where you’re hurt. Sunrise?”
The unicorn mare joined Candice, though she seemed to be keeping a wary eye on the Thunderbird’s massive talons. Candice ran her hands through the arm-length feathers covering the Thunderbird’s body, parting them to expose savage bite-marks.
Sunrise’s horn lit with a pale golden glow. The unicorn dipped her head, lightly touching the tip of her horn to the nearest wound.
“I know it feels weird.” Candice stroked the Thunderbird as a tremor ran through its massive form. “Just stay still so Sunrise can heal you. There’s a brave guy.”
“How do you know it’s a male?” Edith asked.
“To be honest, I don’t. Short of sticking my arm up its cloaca, there’s no way to tell. And I’m not going to test its forbearance that far.” Candice patted the Thunderbird absently. “Sorry if I’m misgendering you.”
The Thunderbird made a pained, rumbling wheeze that somehow sounded amused. Its head drooped down again, the huge beak resting along the ground.
“Any idea how long it’ll take to get our friend here back on his feet?” Rory asked.
Candice shook her head, still busy examining the Thunderbird’s injuries. “No idea yet. The big guy is banged up pretty badly. I’m sure that Sunrise will be able to heal him, but I don’t think she’ll be able to do it all at once. There are limits to how much she can do before she has to rest and recover her strength.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Rory’s mouth tightened as he gazed at the Thunderbird. “Flash, can you teleport something this big?”
The young unicorn perked up. She straightened, tossing her mane proudly…and then hesitated. She eyed the vast bulk of the Thunderbird. Her ears slowly drooped.
“Don’t worry, Flash.” Wystan stroked the crestfallen unicorn. “It takes courage to admit when you can’t do something. We’ll manage.”
Rory sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to hope that the rest of the crew doesn’t return too soon. I’m going to go call Buck and let him know what’s going on. As much as I can, anyway.”
“Wait.” Edith caught her mate’s sleeve, but her face turned up toward Joe. “This is why you broke our car, isn’t it? Somehow, you knew that the Thunderbird would need our help.”
Ridiculous though it was to try to shield an entire dragon, Seven stepped between Joe and the others. “I gave you all my oath that he had reasons for his actions. You promised to trust him in return. Now you have proof that he is indeed acting honorably. I beg you, do not question him further. He has told you as much as he can.”
Joe dipped his horned head. Seven thought that it was a nod of agreement—but it kept dipping, his vast bulk shimmering and shrinking. In seconds, he was back in human form. His expression was set and serious, all the light-hearted laughter gone.
“No,” he said. “I haven’t.”
Chapter 18
“I’m sorry, I’m still stuck right at the beginning.” Blaise stared at him. “You can seriously see the future?”
Once again, they were sitting round the fire pit in front of the mess hall. He’d waited until Blaise and the others had returned from their errand before finally confessing everything. It had taken…a while.
Now the sun was sliding down the sky, gilding everything with warm golden light. The Thunderbird was a dark, hunched shape at the edge of the car park, head hidden under one massive wing. Sunrise had healed its wounds enough to stabilize it, but it wasn’t going to be in any shape to fly for a while. The unicorn mare was sleeping now as well, her head resting in Candice’s lap, Flash snuggled up against her side.
Joe felt about ready for a nap himself. Explaining his visions had been exhausting…and curiously freeing. Even though he couldn’t bring himself to look any of his friends in the eye, it felt like something had unknotted inside him.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”
“What for?” Edith asked.
“For not telling you all earlier.”
*Didn’t have to.* Alone out of all the of the group, Fenrir looked completely unsurprised. He sprawled on his belly, gnawing complacently at a large bone that he’d brought back from his trip into town with Blaise. *Already knew.*
“Yeah, and that’s something we need to talk about, bro.” Joe remembered Fenrir’s enigmatic comment earlier. “When did you find out?”
Fenrir flicked his ears. *Always known.*
“Well, you might have shared that with the rest of us,” Rory said to the hellhound.
*Did, Birdcat.* Fenrir rolled his copper eyes. *Told you he was Seasnake.*
Blaise frowned. “How does your nickname for Joe relate to his talent? Not all sea dragons can do what he can do.”
*Not sea-like-water.* Fenrir sounded faintly exasperated, as though all this should have been obvious. *See-like-eyes. Seesnake. Because he does.*
“And apparently I’m not the only one.” Joe stared at the hellhound. “You gave me that nickname when we first met, before you knew anything about me at all. So how in the name of sweet little fishes did you work out my talent?”
*Two legs.* Fenrir went back to chewing on his bone, turning his muzzle to get a good grip on it with his back teeth. *Always asking silly questions. Can smell, Seesnake. Like any wolf. No trick to it.*
What is he? Joe thought, not for the first time. From the expressions on everyone else’s faces, the rest of the squad was wondering the same thing. Fenrir was no ordinary hellhound, and it wasn’t just his huge size and inability to shift.
Rory shook his head. “Fenrir, sometime we really have to track down where you came from before that wolf pack found you. Don’t suppose you can help with that, Joe? Can you look into the past as well as the future?”
“Sorry, bro. It’s one way only. And it’s not under my control. I just see what fate wants me to see.”
“And, Fenrir aside, none of us had the faintest idea,” Wystan said. “Joe, we’re your oldest friends. Why on earth didn’t you tell us any of this before?”
The puzzled hurt in Wystan’s green eyes made his throat tighten. “Because…because I was scared.”
“That we wouldn’t believe you?” Blaise stretched out one leg to kick him, gently, in the shin. “Idiot.”
“Not that. I was scared—I am scared—that if I told even one person, eventually everyone else would find out too. My parents. The Sea Council. I was scared that they’d all start looking to me for guidance.” His voice cracked. “Leadership.”
“You are the Crown Prince of Atlantis,” Seven said from beside him. He could feel her grey eyes studying his face, even though he didn’t dare look at her. “You will be the Pearl Emperor. It has always been your destiny to be our leader, regardless of your talent.”
He swallowed hard, and told the truth at last. “I don’t want to be the Pearl Emperor.”
Silence spread out from his words.
Then Blaise kicked him again, harder this time. “Well, duh. If it helps, none of the rest of us want you to be either.”
“Gee. That sure makes me feel better.” Joe nudged her back. “Thanks so much for the vote of confidence.”
She made a face at him. “Not because you’d be bad at it, doofus. Because we’d miss you. It wouldn’t be nearly so much fun without you to yell at.”
“Atlantis’s loss is our gain.” Wystan leaned forward, his green eyes softening. “We’ll keep your secret, Joe.”
The others joined in with general murmurs of agreement…all except one. At his side, Seven had gone utterly still. He made himself meet her gaze at last.
Did you mean that? her eyes asked.
And all he could do was reply, silently: Yes.
“Well.” Rory clapped his hands together, recapturing everyone’s attention. “Let’s recap. Joe can see the future, and what he’s seen is that the mother of all demons is going to pop up sometime soon. With the assistance of this Lupa woman, who seems to be working for the demons, even if she isn’t possessed herself.”
Joe dragged himself out of Seven’s eyes and back to the business at hand. “I’m still not sure about that. I mean, not that she’s working for the demons—she definitely is—but I still think Lupa might be possessed.”
“She didn’t have horns,” Edith said. She indicated her forehead. “Just some kind of squiggle here.”
“But her eyes flashed red when I confronted her the first time she tried to kidnap the Prince,” Seven said. “From what I’ve heard of your encounters with possessed creatures last year, that could indicate that a demon resides within her, could it not?”
“Possibly,” Wystan said slowly. “But I would like to propose a different theory. I think it’s more likely Lupa’s a hellhound. She was with hellhounds, after all.”
“They can’t have been hellhounds. They were flying.” Edith asked. She dropped a hand to Fenrir’s thick ruff, winding her fingers through his fur. “You can’t fly, can you?”
Fenrir crunched thoughtfully on his bone. *Don’t know. Never tried.*
“At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past you,” Rory muttered.
“I’m afraid that is likely to be beyond even your talents, Fenrir. At least without help. But there are hellhounds who can fly.” Wystan glanced round the circle. “Some of you have met my aunt Hope and her wife Betty, if you recall?”
“As if anyone could forget their Christmas parties,” Blaise said with a nostalgic sigh. “I know they’re hellhounds, but I didn’t think they could fly either.”
“They can’t, most of the time. But they’re part of the Wild Hunt. It’s a special kind of super-pack, composed of various types of mythical dog shifters, dedicated to hunting down supernatural criminals and bringing them to justice. When the pack is together, they collectively manifest special powers that they don’t otherwise possess as individuals. One of them is the ability to run through the air in pursuit of their prey, even though none of them are shifters that are able to fly normally.”
Edith’s eyes were wide. “How do they do that?”
“I don’t entirely know. The Wild Hunt is something of a secret society. Aunt Hope can’t talk about it much.” Wystan spread one hand, palm up. “But I’ve gathered it’s something to do with the pack leader. It takes a very particular type of alpha power to be able to gather the Wild Hunt and make the pack more than the sum of individual shifters.”
“And you think Lupa is an alpha like that?” Rory asked.
“Yes. One strong enough to form her own Wild Hunt. If she is, she might even be strong enough to compel other canine-type creatures to obey her. The shifters with her—even the wendigo—may not have been acting of their own volition.”
“Just as well you weren’t there,” Candice said to Fenrir. “She might have been able to turn you to her side.”
Fenrir showed all his teeth. *Tear out her throat first.*
But you don’t, Joe thought, a cold shiver of unease running down his back. In his original vision—the one where he hadn’t been with the squad—Fenrir had hesitated when he’d locked eyes with the mysterious woman. As if she had hypnotized him…
“Well, whatever she is, the most important thing is that she’s our enemy,” Rory said. “Lupa and her pack nearly took down the Thunderbird today. And according to Joe’s visions, she’s hell-bent on snatching one of us to serve up as some giant demon’s first meal.”
“Just me or Blaise,” Joe put in. “If she can’t get me, she goes after Blaise. That’s what my visions have shown me.”
“Me?” Blaise scowled, looking more irritated than worried at being singled out by an evil hellhound super-alpha. “Why me?”
“Power,” Callum said, succinctly.
“Cal’s right,” Wystan agreed. “You and Joe are innately special, thanks to your respective parentages, in a way that the rest of us aren’t.”
Candice elbowed him. “Says the unicorn?”
Wystan smiled at his mate. “I’m not being self-deprecating. My kind may be rare, but I’m not a walking embodiment of elemental forces. I suspect this alpha demon would find me to be a distinctly unsatisfying snack.”
“So we need to protect both Joe and Blaise. And possibly Fenrir, if Wystan’s theory about Lupa is correct.” Rory leaned back on his log, bracing himself on his hands. He stared up at the sky as though a plan might materialize there. “Joe, you said you saw—”
“Wait,” Callum interrupted. The pegasus shifter was abruptly on his feet, so fast that he hardly seemed to move. “Someone’s coming.”
Everyone else tensed as well, but Callum held up a hand. He stared into the distance, eyes unseeing, as though he was listening to something. His taut shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“It’s all right,” he said, sitting down again. “It’s just Buck.”
Rory swore. “Is he bringing the rest of the crew back?”
“No. He’s alone.”
“That’s a relief. I didn’t want to test whether the Thunderbird can still make itself invisible even when it’s hurt.” Rory paused, forehead furrowing. “Funny. When I called Buck, he didn’t say he was going to turn around and head back to us.”
“Well, he is.” Callum shrugged. “At speed. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Joe indulged in a groan, letting himself slump theatrically. “Great. So I have to go through all this again? If I’d known he was coming back so soon, I would have waited for him.”
Wystan cocked his head to one side, looking curious. “Would you have known, if you’d scried the future?”
“Probably not. I only see stuff that’s really important.” He raised a finger as a speculative expression began to dawn across Blaise’s face. “And before you ask, no, lottery numbers aren’t included in that. Neither are the results of horse races. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Blaise pouted. “Pity.”
“If we’re all quite done exploring the potential monetary applications of Joe’s gift,” Rory said dryly. “Perhaps we could return to the small matter of the murderous demon-worshipping hellhound pack. Joe, you said that you had a vision of them attacking us on a callout near Bluebrook. Can you tell if that’s still going to happen?”
“I can try.” Joe patted his pockets, but came up empty. “Anyone got some water?”
“Yes.” Callum tossed him a canteen. “Here.”
Joe poured a splash of water into his cupped hand—and paused. He was uncomfortably aware of the ring of avid stares boring into him.
He squashed a sudden flutter of performance anxiety. “Well, here goes nothing.”
He looked down into the water.
And what he saw had nothing to do with Bluebrook, or Lupa, or demons.
“Oh no,” he breathed. “Someone, stop him!”
Chapter 19
“Stop who?” Seven asked—but she was talking to Joe’s back.
He charged in the direction of the Thunderbird, flinging his handful of water aside. Seven ran after him, drawing her stunsword between one step and the next. The rest of the squad followed in a disorganized pack, shouting half-formed questions.
The roar of an engine cut through the babble. Up ahead, Buck’s car shot into the car park. He was driving so fast, Seven expected to see the hellhound pack hot on his tail—but the road behind stayed empty.
The Thunderbird’s head snapped up as the Jeep roared toward it. The vast bird tried to push itself to its feet, but its talons slipped out beneath it. Its geometric markings lit up, sparks of electricity crackling between the feathers.
The Jeep slewed to a halt, the driver’s door flinging open before the vehicle had even fully stopped moving. Buck burst out, right in front of the Thunderbird.
“No!” Joe yelled.
His long legs outpaced them all. He flung himself between Buck and the Thunderbird, just as the Superintendent raised a gun.
Seven froze, along with everyone else. The muzzle of Buck’s gun pressed against Joe’s chest. Every part of her screamed to defend her mate, but she’d never be able to knock either of them out of the way in time.
