Wildfire Phoenix Read online

“Oh.” To Zephyr’s immense relief, the unicorn shifter passed the note over without opening it. “My apologies.”

  Zephyr breathed out, thanking all the spirits that the errant missive had hit polite, mild Wystan rather than anyone else in the crew. Or—horror of horrors—his uncle. It was a good ten minutes before he dared to glance at the paper.

  If you haven’t worked out by now that she has a crush on you too, then you’re an idiot, Blaise had written under his last line. If you ask her out, I’m 100% sure she’ll say yes.

  100% was circled several times, and underlined for good measure.

  Zephyr hesitated, wrestling with temptation. He really shouldn’t be doing this, for multiple reasons (one of which was standing at the front of the room making pointed comments about staying alert at all times). But still…

  That’s the thing, he wrote under the note. I want to take her out on a real date. In the waking world. But I don’t know if she’s ready for that.

  Steeling his nerve, he waited for the next opportunity. When Buck turned round, Zephyr quickly swiveled in his chair. Heart pounding, he tossed the paper before he could think better of the whole thing.

  In his haste, he completely messed up the throw. To his horror, the note sailed straight past Blaise… and dropped into Joe’s lap.

  The sea dragon jumped, his phone vanishing up his sleeve. He looked down at the note. He looked at Zephyr, and then at Blaise, who appeared to be trying to set the sea dragon on fire with nothing more than aggressive eye contact. He looked down at the note again. A slow, evil grin spread across his face.

  “Something more interesting than me back there, Zephyr?” said Buck.

  He jerked round guiltily. “No, sir.”

  “Then pay attention.” Buck clicked to the next slide. “Right. Let’s talk wind speed, and why a nice cooling breeze is absolutely not your friend.”

  Zephyr didn’t dare look round again. He tried to concentrate on Buck’s lecture, but he couldn’t help straining to catch any sound from behind him. Was that the rustle of paper? A muffled laugh?

  That had definitely been a chuckle, and far too low to be Blaise’s. Zephyr slumped in his chair, his ears burning. This was a disaster. Blaise was going to be mortified, and it was all his fault—

  “Callum Tiernach-West,” Buck said, in tones of utter doom. “Are you passing notes?”

  At the end of Zephyr’s row, Cal froze, his hand outstretched toward Rory. A familiar slip of paper gleamed between his fingers. The bottom dropped out of Zephyr’s stomach.

  Buck’s eyes narrowed. “Must be an important message. Maybe you’d like to stand up and read it out loud?”

  Callum’s eyes swiveled in Zephyr’s direction, then back to Buck. Quick as a flash, his hand shot to his mouth.

  “I was just passing round some gum,” Joe said, as Callum chewed furiously. “You know, to help keep everyone awake.”

  Buck folded his arms. “Did you bring enough for everyone?”

  “Actually, yes.” To Zephyr’s complete astonishment, Joe pulled half a dozen packs of gum out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see, I’ve got Mexican Heatwave, Extreme Jalapeno, Killer Ghost Pepper—”

  Buck pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry I asked. Anyone chewing gum had better spit it out or swallow it. Now.”

  With a clear effort, Callum swallowed.

  Buck’s suspicious stare lingered on the back rows for a long moment. Then he shook his head. “Motherloving… A-squad. Anyone else want to confess to smuggling in snacks? No? Then perhaps we can all attempt to act like this is a professional hotshot crew, and not goddamn junior high. Moving on.”

  An hour later, a tiny ball of paper rolled into Zephyr’s foot.

  Stop sweating. No one peeked (which is just as well, because I don’t know where I would have hidden that many bodies)

  Saturday, my truck, 7pm. Don’t be late.

  Chapter 16

  Blaise was starting to deeply regret her life choices.

  It had probably been a bad idea to say yes to the date. The jury was still out on that one, since it hadn’t happened yet. But it had definitely been a mistake to mention it to anyone.

  “What do you think?” Diana held up two outfits that were technically dresses, though in Blaise’s opinion they were both one incautious move away from being indecent exposure charges. “The black or the red?”

  Darcy pursed her lips. “The black is classier.”

  “Blaise always wears black, though.” Diana draped the red dress against Blaise’s arm, with total disregard for any concept of personal space. “It would be nice to see her in something more colorful for a change.”

  “Do I get a say in this?” Blaise asked.

  Darcy didn’t even bother to answer that one. The hellhound tapped a finger against her chin. “Hmm. The red is nice, but it’s not Blaise, you know?”

  “Blaise is of the opinion that this entire store is not Blaise. Come on, guys. What’s wrong with my regular clothes?”

  She might as well have been an unusually talkative Barbie doll. Diana and Darcy both studied her with the serene dispassion of a couple of plastic surgeons, gazes sweeping over her from head to toe.

  “Diana,” Darcy said slowly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Diana caught her breath, her eyes widening like she’d received a divine revelation. “Yes! Purple!”

  “Deep purple silk.” Darcy nodded firmly. “With sequins.”

  “Sequins? Now wait a minute—”

  She was talking to their backs. The pair swept out of the changing room like hunting wolves on the trail of a wounded caribou. That left only Seren, standing guard—literally—by the changing room door.

  Blaise looked at her without much hope. “I will pay you fifty bucks to let me sneak away.”

  Seren shook her head, her expression somewhere between amusement and sympathy. “I gave my word of honor that I would not allow you to escape.”

  Blaise contemplated attempting to force her way past the knight. She reckoned that in the absolute best-case scenario, she’d last all of three seconds before Seren had her in a polite, apologetic headlock. She sank back to the dressing room stool, glowering at the pile of evening wear Diana and Darcy had already rejected.

  “I should have asked Edith for a restaurant recommendation,” Blaise muttered. “Even though she never eats out.”

  Blaise’s previous experiences with dating—if that was the right word—had all involved swiping right on guys with ‘Casual Only’ in their profile. She had no idea what you were supposed to do if the itinerary wasn’t ‘hook up, get off, get out.’

  In a sudden fit of nerves, she’d gone in search of advice. Obviously, asking any of her male friends was right out. They were all hopeless romantics, and would have gotten way too overexcited. But Darcy—sensible, practical Darcy—had seemed like a safe bet. She and Fenrir went out more than the rest of the squad put together, after all. Surely she would be able to recommend a halfway decent eatery.

  If Blaise had known that Darcy—Darcy!—had a secret passion for makeover shows, she would have taken Zephyr to grab a drive-through burger, and to hell with romance.

  Darcy and Diana burst back in, with the triumphant air of hunters returning with a wooly mammoth. Diana brandished a silky, shimmery thing in Blaise’s direction.

  “Put this on,” she ordered, pushing her back into the changing cubicle.

  It was not, Blaise had to admit once she’d managed to get the thing on, bad. The way the material shifted between blue and purple as she moved was pretty cool. Her boobs were always awesome, thank you very much, and the low neckline framed them like a goddamn work of art. Yes, there were regrettable sequins, but at least they were a discreet scattering of silver sparks rather than full-on disco ball. The overall effect reminded her of the first stars of evening, glimmering through twilight.

  “Okay, this is actually kind of great,” she said, twisting in front of the mirror. “And at l
east it’s long enough that I’m not going to be flashing my ass cheeks like a horny baboon.”

  “We could pin it up a few inches,” Darcy said, straight-faced. At Blaise’s horrified look, she cracked up. “Your face! I’m joking. Mostly. Pretty sure Zephyr wouldn’t object if you had a slight wardrobe malfunction.”

  “He’s going to walk into a wall as it is,” Diana said, surveying their joint handiwork with clear satisfaction. “You look amazing, Blaise.”

  “Stunning,” Seren agreed, with one of her rare smiles. “He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

  Blaise smoothed the dress over her thighs, still feeling unnervingly exposed. “Are you sure it’s not too much?”

  “Not for where you’re going.” Darcy handed her a slip of paper. “You’ve got reservations for two at L’Auberge Chez Augustin, and you do not want to know what I had to do to get that table at such short notice.”

  The name meant nothing to Blaise, but Diana squeaked like a goosed fruit bat. Even Seren blinked.

  “Isn’t there’s usually a four week waiting list?” the shark shifter asked.

  Darcy waggled her eyebrows. “I have my ways.”

  Diana let out a low, hungry moan. “I would kill for an evening at Augustin’s. I can’t even remember the last time I went to a place where the menu wasn’t laminated.”

  “Cal hasn’t taken you out on any dates recently?” Blaise started to struggle out of the dress. “Right. He is going to be in so much trouble when I see him at training.”

  “It’s not his fault,” Diana said. She made a face. “It’s just, you know, things have been so busy, what with the new house, and fire season starting up again, and Beth being able to get into everything now. When Callum and I do manage to get some time all to ourselves, it’s hard to muster the energy for much more than takeout and Netflix.”

  “Well, just say the word if you want some help,” Darcy said. “Fenrir would be thrilled to babysit.”

  Diana laughed. “He’ll have to stand in line. You should have seen Connor and Conleth yesterday. They were literally arm-wrestling over who was going to get to push Beth’s stroller.”

  “Connor’s still staying with you guys?” Blaise said, surprised. “I thought he had to get back to Alaska for his own pre-season training.”

  “His smoke jumping crew turned up on our doorstep and dragged him off this morning.” Diana’s eyes sparkled. “I gather it’s not the first time they’ve had to hunt him down. Though they looked a little startled to find him surrounded by Play-Doh pots rather than empty shot glasses. Taliesin and Lola say hi, by the way. They were on a tight schedule, so they didn’t have time to drop by the base.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry to have missed them.” Blaise had grown up with them both, though she hadn’t been particularly close friends with either red dragon shifter Taliesin or Lola, who was one of Rory’s three sisters. “I think the last time we managed to catch up was at the Christmas party back at my mom’s pub. Maybe we can arrange something after fire season.”

  “Is Conleth still in town?” Darcy asked.

  Diana nodded. “He’s on sabbatical until the end of the year, and Callum’s trying to persuade him to move out here permanently. But I’m worried he’s going to end up going back to that awful boardroom job. He’s the kind of person who always has to have a dozen plates spinning, no matter how stressed out it makes him. I wish he could find his mate. He’s so good with Beth, after all. Maybe if he had a family of his own, he’d be able to slow down at last.”

  “Knowing Conleth, I doubt it,” Blaise said. She pulled her T-shirt over her head and picked up the dress. “If you ask me, he needs to find a project, not a mate. Thanks for helping me out today, guys. I’ll pay for this, then we can head over to the food court. Ice cream’s on me.”

  “Oh, we’re not done yet.” Darcy cracked her knuckles. “Not by a long way.”

  “Right.” Diana linked her arm through Blaise’s. “Let’s talk shoes.”

  Blaise looked hopelessly at Seren as the pair frog-marched her out of the changing room. “A hundred bucks. Two hundred.”

  The shark shifter shook her head again, following along behind like a prison guard. “Not for all the treasures in the sea.”

  “Cheese slice motherloving Christmas.” Buck stared at Zephyr with an expression that suggested he was torn between horror and hysterical laughter. “What are you wearing?”

  “Well, that’s less than encouraging.” Zephyr tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, which was doing its best to garrote him. As it turned out, he and Callum were only approximately the same size. “I’m going out this evening. Apparently somewhere that requires a suit. Callum dropped it off earlier.”

  Buck circled him with the air of a detective examining a crime scene. “Are you sure this isn’t an elaborate practical joke?”

  “If it is, Callum isn’t in on it. He was mystified too. Anyway, I came by to let you know that I’m heading off base for a few hours. Didn’t want you to worry if you couldn’t find me.”

  Buck surveyed his costume. “I take it you aren’t making a beer run to Costco.”

  Zephyr twitched his shoulders, attempting to settle the too-tight jacket. “I’m beginning to think that might have been preferable. Be honest. On a scale of one to ten, how ridiculous do I look?”

  “I’m going to have to plead the fifth on that one.” Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess Blaise will like it, if this was her idea. That is why you’re impersonating an undertaker, right?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that suspicion. And please don’t mention this to anyone on the squad.”

  Buck snorted. “Because Blaise wants to keep your date a secret, or because you’re worried your colleagues will burst a hernia laughing if they see you?”

  “Both,” Zephyr replied wryly. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late. See you tomorrow.”

  “Bright and early, no excuses.” Buck’s raised voice followed Zephyr out the door. “And I’ll have to come find you if you don’t show up, so do me a favor and be back in your own bed by sunrise. Some things I do not need to see.”

  Zephyr winced, hoping no one had overheard that last remark. Shifters had acute senses, and his uncle’s cabin wasn’t that far from the parking lot. With one last, futile attempt at straightening his cuffs, he headed for the front of the base.

  Blaise was waiting for him, leaning against her truck. At the sight of her, he utterly forgot his own self-consciousness.

  “Wow.” He swallowed. “You look…”

  Stunning, he’d intended to say, yet the word didn’t feel right. Though she was stunning, by any objective standard. Her figure-hugging dress wrapped her curves in the soft, shimmering colors of twilight. White gems sparkled like stars at her throat, highlighting the graceful, elegant lines of her neck and shoulders. Silver high heels showed off her taut, strong legs.

  She looked utterly gorgeous. And also, spectacularly uncomfortable.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. “And this wasn’t your idea, was it?”

  “Let’s just say that things rapidly spiraled out of my control.” She took a single cautious step, still clinging to the side of her truck. “My feet are killing me. Diana and Darcy insisted that flats wouldn’t work with this dress. I have no idea how anyone walks in these things.”

  He caught her arm as her foot wobbled, steadying her. “Much as I appreciate the chance to feel useful, perhaps you’d better take them off. At least for the drive.”

  She flashed him a rather pained grin, balancing on one leg to tug at her shoe. “We haven’t even got to the restaurant, and you’re trying to get me out of my clothes already? This outfit is effective.”

  “It certainly is. But mostly, I just don’t want you to turn your ankle right before fire season.”

  “No kidding.” Stilettos dangling from one hand, Blaise let out a groan of relief, wriggling her toes. “That’s better. Be grateful guys’ formalwear doesn’t come with built-in t
orture devices.”

  He tugged at his collar again. “Not as bad as yours, no. But if you’d like to get me out of this thing, I wouldn’t object. For multiple reasons.”

  Blaise examined his own outfit. “You look, uh…”

  “Like I’m going to a job interview at a funeral parlor?”

  “Well, I’d hire you.” Blaise opened the car door for him. “We’d better get a move on if we’re going to make it in time.”

  By the time it occurred to Zephyr that he was probably meant to have held the door for her, Blaise was already buckling her seat belt. She started the engine, reversing out of the parking space with casual ease.

  “Where are we going?” Zephyr asked as they started down the mountain.

  Blaise squinted at her phone, which she’d clipped to her dashboard. “Some fancy French joint. It’s meant to be good, according to Darcy. Though I hope you aren’t actually hungry, because I have a suspicion it’s the sort of place where if you order the steak special, you get three exquisitely arranged green beans and a cubic inch of cow.”

  “That doesn’t sound ideal for shifter appetites.”

  “Eh, I’ll live. I can always grab a burger on our way back.”

  He cast a sidelong glance at her, and discovered she was doing the same.

  “Or,” he said slowly, “we could stop for a burger first.”

  Blaise bit her perfectly glossed lower lip. “We’d miss our restaurant reservation, though. Darcy went through a lot of trouble to get it.”

  Zephyr sighed, reluctantly ceding to that logic. “I suppose we shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

  Blaise eyed him. “Are you really serious about that burger?”

  “Honestly, I’d prefer it to a fancy restaurant.” He looked down at his borrowed suit. “I’m truly touched by the amount of effort that you’ve put into all this, but I feel like we’re both pretending to be other people. I want to spend time with you, Blaise. I’d like to go to your favorite place, not someone else’s.”

  “In that case…” Blaise pulled the truck over to the side of the road. She reached for her phone, a wicked grin curving her mouth. “I’ve got an idea.”