Wildfire Unicorn Read online

“There’s a bit of a situation,” he replied, wishing he didn’t have to be evasive. “Our Superintendent needs the squad to check something out.”

  As he spoke, Rory’s golden, broad-winged form swept over their heads. Callum followed on the griffin’s tail, a black shadow against the clouded sky. Even burdened with riders, both shifters were swift fliers. In a few breaths, they’d disappeared into the night.

  Candice, of course, was oblivious to it all. Although she was his mate, they weren’t yet mated. The subliminal connection between them might let her see a mythic shifter if she was in immediate danger from one, but she wouldn’t be fully immune to invisibility tricks until they were fully bonded.

  If we’re ever bonded. His current rate of progress on that front was not encouraging.

  “I understand. Work has to come first.” Candice drained her water and stood up. She hesitated, then shook her head as though thinking better of whatever she’d been about to say. “Well. I guess this is goodbye, then.”

  “Candice.” He caught her elbow as she turned away. “It isn’t.”

  “Oh, it isn’t, is it?” Despite the challenging words, she didn’t try to pull free. “I thought we’d established that we had wildly different ideas about where this was going.”

  “I know, and I’m truly sorry that I led you on.” He turned her to face him. “You were right to be angry with me. It was unconscionable for me to falsely offer you something I had no intention of delivering, as a means to my own ends.”

  That startled a snort of laughter out of her. “You do realize that most guys promise a relationship as a way of getting sex, right? Not the other way around.”

  “I’m not exactly like most men,” he said. “Candice, I do desire you. I can’t tell you how much. But I want you for more than a single night. I need this to be more than a casual fling.”

  “Why?” She sounded honestly baffled. “Why are you so set on me?”

  “Because you,” he said, simply.

  Candice sighed. “Wystan, I gotta admit, you seem like a great guy. But we’ve only just met. I don’t really know you, and you sure as hell don’t know me if you’ve built up some romantic idea that I’m some kind of once-in-a-lifetime soulmate that you can’t live without.”

  “I know that you take care of a lost fawn as if she was a lost child. I know that a rat can be chewing your hand off, and your primary concern will be its health. And I know…” he hesitated, then plunged on. “I know that you have been hurt.”

  Her arms tensed under his hands. She gave him a withering look, turning her head to show her scars. “Well, duh.”

  “I don’t mean there.” He tapped his own chest, over his heart. “I mean here. I know that you must have good reasons to want to keep me at a distance. I know that you don’t want to risk getting hurt again. But I also know that something else, some strange impulse that you don’t fully understand, is stopping you from just walking away without a backward glance right now.”

  The defensive scorn on her face flickered, just a bit. Her eyes searched his face. She was still listening.

  “I know that you desire me. I know that you will always be honest with me. I know that you don’t suffer fools gladly.” He let out his breath, his mouth quirking ruefully. “Which is somewhat of a pity. As my friends told you, I can be exceptionally foolish.”

  Her own mouth twitched in response. “I believe idiotic was the word they used.”

  “They know me exceedingly well.”

  She was smiling properly now, truly smiling. It was like the sun coming up. It dazzled him.

  “Everything I know about you so far makes me yearn to know more.” He took both her hands in his. “Give me time to show you who I am. I know you don’t have any reason to want me the way that I want you. Not yet. But please, give me a chance.”

  She considered this for a moment that stretched into an agonizing eternity.

  “I’ll think about it, she said at last. “On one condition.”

  His heart moved sideways in his chest, leaving him breathless with hope.

  “Anything,” he managed to get out.

  She stepped closer. All he could feel were her hands, sliding around his waist. All he could see was her face, turning up to his.

  “Kiss me,” Candice commanded.

  He couldn’t have not kissed her. A force stronger than gravity had him in its grip, molding his body to hers. Without thought, without hesitation, he bent to her lips.

  He’d entirely forgotten the existence of noses.

  “Ow.” Candice pulled back before he could make a second attempt. “Okay. Now I believe you.”

  Need beat through him. He could barely form words. “About what?”

  “You really are a virgin.” She put her head to one side, her eyes widening. “Wystan, is this your first kiss?”

  “Yes,” he growled, and claimed her mouth at last.

  It was awkward. It was clumsy.

  It was utterly glorious.

  And it was interrupted by an explosion.

  Chapter 12

  Wow, Candice thought dazedly. Talk about fireworks.

  Then, as Wystan jerked back from that brain-melting kiss, she realized that the explosive blast had not, in fact, been entirely in her own head. All around, people were looking around in alarm. A nearby group of firefighters leaped up from their half-finished meals, automatically grabbing for their turn out jackets as they tried to locate the source of the sound.

  “Fenrir,” Wystan breathed.

  Before she knew what was going on, he’d whisked her off her feet. Literally—one moment her boots were firmly on the ground, then next he’d thrown her over his shoulder and was sprinting flat out. Her startled squeak was left behind in the dust. Trailers and tents whirled past in a blur.

  I’m in shock, decided the small part of her brain that was wasn’t reeling in confusion, trying to catch up with her body. That’s why time is moving strangely. No one can run this fast.

  It couldn’t really have been mere seconds before they’d reached the edge of camp, but it certainly seemed like it. Wystan released his hold on her, letting her slide down his body.

  Still in a daze, she stared up at him. The look in his green eyes sent a shiver down her spine. All his old-fashioned English courtesy had dropped away, revealing something more dangerous and primal beneath. A flickering orange glow painted his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the grim set of his jaw.

  Where’s that light coming from?

  She turned, and the breath froze in her throat.

  Her trailer was on fire.

  Darkness encroached on the edges of her vision. Her world narrowed to those hungry flames. Even though they were still distant, she felt them gnawing at her skin. She was helpless, her body paralyzed, unable to flee—

  Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her out of her flashback. Wystan’s reassuring warmth banished the terrible heat burned into her memory. She gasped for breath, clinging onto his forearms as though he was a life buoy.

  Panic receded, allowing her to take in the scene properly. It wasn’t the trailer itself that was on fire, but rather the dry grass behind it. The blaze was spreading through the bone-dry stalks like water. The trailer was a black silhouette against the rising flames, thick smoke swirling around the vehicle.

  She could hear shouts coming from the main camp, but they were distant. Wystan really had gotten them here before anyone else had even had time to react. Now the alarm was being raised…but at the rate the fire was sweeping through the grass, it would engulf the trailer and tents before help could arrive.

  “The animals,” Candice gasped. “Flash!”

  “I’ll get them.” Wystan thrust her away from the flames. “Stay here!”

  “Screw that,” Candice snarled, and pelted after him.

  He was a lot faster than she was. He’d disappeared around the trailer before she’d taken three steps. A cloud of smoke blew into her face, making her cough.

 
“Wystan!” She pulled her t-shirt up over her nose and mouth. Eyes watering, half-blind, she staggered through the thickening smoke. “You idiot, you haven’t got the trailer key! Wystan!”

  She found the trailer by running head-first into it, hard enough to see stars. She groped her way to the door, the metal already alarmingly warm under her palms. There was no sign of Wystan.

  Her hands were shaking so badly that it took her three attempts to unlock the door. She got it open at last, half-falling into the trailer. The smoke was even thicker in here.

  Seeking cleaner air, she dropped to the ground. Through the haze, she glimpsed a gaping rent in the side of the trailer. The metal walls were splayed inward like flower petals, as though someone had shot a cannonball at the trailer. Smoke poured in through the jagged hole.

  What did that?

  No time to worry about that now. Holding her breath, she crawled on hands and knees through split-open bags of kibble and smashed feed bowls. Bits of burning paper swirled over her head. Her heart thumped an erratic, panicked rhythm.

  Flash. She held onto the thought, fighting against the rising darkness trying to suck her down. Her head felt light as a balloon. Got to get to Flash.

  She sobbed with relief as her fingers found the wire front of the cage, still locked and barred. The poor fawn must be going mad with panic. No chance of unlocking the padlocks and bolts with her numb fingers. She’d have to carry the whole thing.

  “Sorry baby,” she croaked. “Gonna get you out. Just hang on!”

  She grabbed hold of the bars, hauling with all her strength—and fell flat on her butt as the cage shot forward without resistance.

  It was empty.

  Dull-witted from lack of air, she stared blankly at the empty nest of blankets inside the cage, struggling to make sense of what she saw. She shook the cage, rattling the lock. “Flash?”

  “Candice!”

  Strong hands seized her under the arms. She fought and kicked, but she might as well have been a newborn kitten dangling from Wystan’s grasp.

  “Let me go!” she cried as he hauled her out of the burning trailer. “I have to find Flash!”

  “Candice, it’s all right, she’s not in there!” Wystan held her wrists, stopping her from clawing at his face. “I found her. She’s fine.”

  He’d carried her upwind of the grass fire, where the air was clearer. Sanity returned along with oxygen. “She’s okay?”

  “She’s with Fenrir.” Wystan jerked his chin in the direction of the woods that bordered the fire camp. “They’re over there, under the trees.”

  Candice squinted, and just about made out a tiny white smudge in the night. “Oh, he’s a good boy. He got her to safety.”

  “Yes, but he’s not in good shape.” Wystan’s fists clenched, as though he longed to punch the fire for hurting his dog. “He’s unconscious. Can you see if there’s anything you can do for him while I get the other animals out?”

  “Of course.” She caught at his t-shirt as he turned back to the fire. “Wait! There are eight cats in the first tent, a rat and two hamsters in the second, and four dogs in the third. And be careful. You aren’t wearing your turn out gear.”

  “I’ll manage without it,” he said, though his clothes were already pocked with singe-marks. Strangely, her own were still immaculate, despite the embers that had whirled around her as she’d crawled through the trailer. “I’ll be fine. Take care of Fenrir and the baby until I get back.”

  She knew he was an elite firefighter, but she still flinched from the thought of him going back into those flames. She had a sudden mad impulse to throw her arms around him.

  She stepped back instead, giving him a firm, professional nod. “Right. Good luck.”

  He touched her face; a brief, reassuring caress. Then he was gone, dodging through clumps of burning grass in the direction of the animal tents. More firefighters were arriving now, struggling into turn out jackets as they ran to help. Wystan’s voice rang out above the crackle of the flames, giving orders in calm, clear tones.

  He’ll be fine, she told herself, making herself turn away.

  The rising hubbub faded behind her as she hurried toward Flash. It was further than she’d thought, well out of range of the light from either the fire or the camp. She had to slow down, her eyes struggling to adjust to the night. If it wasn’t for Flash’s white hide, she’d never have been able to find the fawn at all.

  How did Wystan spot them so fast? She tripped over a tree root, only just managing to catch herself on a sapling. Maybe Fenrir’s trained to always carry wounded in a specific direction. Poor Flash, getting hauled out all this way…it’s a miracle she didn’t bolt into the woods as soon as he dropped her. She must be paralyzed with fear.

  As she got closer, she saw that Flash was nosing at a big black heap on the ground. She lifted her head as Candice approached, ears swiveling.

  Candice blinked. For a second, Flash didn’t look like a deer at all. Her muzzle was too long, her ears too pointed. And her forehead…her forehead…

  Must be a trick of the light. Or smoke still in my eyes. Candice shook her head, scrubbing a hand across her face. When she looked again, the ethereal white shape had resolved back into the familiar shape of the fawn.

  “It’s okay, baby.” Candice approached at a crouch, keeping her movements gentle. “I’m here to help you.”

  To her relief, the fawn didn’t seem alarmed by her appearance, making no move to bound away. Flash lowered her head, once more nudging at the furry heap. The fawn made a soft, plaintive noise that sounded more like someone playing a mournful trill on a flute than an animal in distress.

  “I know, baby. I’m gonna help him too.” Candice went to her knees next to Fenrir, her heart in her mouth. “Oh, poor boy, good boy, please be okay…”

  He didn’t stir as she touched him. She let out her breath as her searching fingers found his pulse. It was thin and weak, but at least it was there.

  Flash hovered anxiously at her side as she checked Fenrir for injuries. The fawn licked at the big dog’s ear as though urging him to get up. She made a questioning sound.

  “I don’t know, baby. I can’t find anything wrong.” She’d assumed that Fenrir must have collapsed from smoke inhalation, but his breathing sounded clear. She couldn’t find a scratch on him…yet there he lay, unconscious, tongue hanging limp from his mouth.

  When she put her hand flat on his shoulder, she could feel strange twitches spasming through the muscles. It was as though he’d been zapped by a Taser, but that was patently ludicrous.

  Could he have had a stroke?

  Flash’s head snapped up, making Candice jump. The fawn sprang away from Fenrir, standing stiff-legged, staring into the dark woods. She stretched out her neck, making the flute-whistle call again.

  And something answered.

  The dry, hissing noise sounded like autumn leaves blowing over ice, like claws scraping against glass. It crawled over Candice’s skin like a snake, making every hair stand on end in pure monkey-instinct terror.

  She found herself on her feet, snatching at Flash. The fawn bleated and struggled, but Candice had a lot of experience restraining animals. She clamped the deer’s kicking legs under one arm, wrapping her free hand around Flash’s muzzle to silence her.

  Whatever was out there in the dark, it was alive.

  It was angry.

  And it was hunting.

  Something moved under the trees. Not coming out of the dark—it was the dark. Shadows ran together, coalescing into solid form.

  Long, delicate legs. A slender body, rake-thin, every bone visible through the stretched, pitch-black hide. Mane and tail flowing like fog, ethereal wisps tumbling to the ground in ever-shifting, silent motion.

  The apparition stalked delicately forward on hooves like knife blades, impossibly balanced on razor-sharp points. For all its predatory grace, its head hung low, swaying with every step.

  Candice had seen that blank, numb look on rescued ho
rses, sometimes. The ones that she couldn’t save.

  Then its eyes met hers, and any nascent pity within her withered and died.

  Red, blood red, without pupil or white. There was hatred there, and intelligence, and above all, a burning madness.

  That cold crimson stare swept over her as though she was nothing more than an ant. Then it fixed on the fawn in her arms.

  The creature made the death-rattle sound again. It took a single step forward.

  She couldn’t run. Even her feet hadn’t been rooted to the ground in frozen horror, she couldn’t abandon the animals to this nightmare.

  “No.” Her voice came out as a squeak. She swallowed, and tried again, clutching Flash to her chest protectively. “Not for you. Go on, get! Shoo!”

  It lifted its head, slowly, as though it took immense effort. The skeletal neck didn’t seem strong enough to support the twisted black horns crowning its skull. Two curved above its ears like goat horns, short but wickedly sharp.

  The third, lancing out from its forehead like a spear, pointed straight for her heart.

  Chapter 13

  Light exploded in her face. The pure white radiance blinded her, wiping out the world.

  Oh, Candice thought with the numb, detached clarity of utter shock. I’m dead.

  The light, however, refused to resolve into anything as cliché as a glowing white tunnel. Belatedly, she realized that she could still feel Flash struggling in her arms. She’d always assumed animals went to Heaven, but she was pretty certain they didn’t kick you in the ribs while you were carrying them there.

  Apparently they hadn’t just been blasted into atoms after all.

  Her eyes watered in the fierce glare. She blinked rapidly, squinting. Grudgingly, her vision adapted, making sense of the scene.

  Or…not.

  A gleaming white creature stood protectively in front of her, barring the monster’s way. Her disbelieving gaze tracked up from braced silver hooves, along the powerful line of its body. She followed the elegantly arched neck to the bright light burning on its forehead—at which point her mind simply gave up, flatly refusing to even attempt rational thought any longer.