Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

FLAME

I stretch lazily. Bran’s just gone to work, and I need to get up and do something productive myself, but first I’m going to bask in the glory of having my very own mate.

It’s fucking amazing.

If you’d asked me a year ago, I would have laughed off the idea. Not only was it impossible, but what would I want a mate for? Someone I had to think about and consider all the time? Someone who would need my attention and make demands of me? Only one sexual partner for the rest of this lifetime?

Pah. No, thanks.

Thankfully, destiny or whatever knows better than me and didn’t ask before providing, because Bran is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in all my lifetimes, and I will cut a bitch who tries to take him from me. (Cody taught me that phrase, and it really fits with my life motto. Having a pseudo little brother is another bonus I didn’t think I wanted.)

The last few weeks since Bran decided to forget his cautious human mindset and instead leap into bed with me have been utterly amazing. The sex, sure, but also the time we can just be together. I can’t count how many nights we’ve stayed up late talking, learning everything about each other. Nobody told me having a mate meant having someone who so perfectly understands me.

I still haven’t convinced him to move in with us, but I’m close. He’s got this bee in his bonnet about Cody and social services, but Cody’s already practically moved in. He sleeps here more than Bran does, since he stays when Bran’s on shift, and anyway, I can’t see how social services could have any objection to him living in an excellent neighborhood with plenty of adult supervision. Cody just rolls his eyes and tells me not to worry about it, Bran will get over himself soon enough.

I hope it’s sooner rather than later. Even though he spends almost all his time off here, I’ll still feel better when all his things are here too.

With a happy sigh, I roll off the mattress and stretch again, basking in the warmth of the room. Bran only comes in here to sleep, and I’ve had to compromise and open the window for him at night so he doesn’t overheat—humans really are very delicate—but the rest of the time, this is my sanctuary, and I keep it as hot as the sun can make it.

I pull on some clothes and reluctantly step out into the much cooler hallway. Downstairs, I can hear voices—hopefully someone’s cooking breakfast, though I can’t smell anything good.

Sure enough, when I get to the kitchen, Aqua’s manning the blender.

“Smoothies?” What a dismal prospect. “Seriously?”

“They’re good for you,” he defends. The asshole even makes them with water instead of milk or a milk substitute, so they’re basically juice with some yogurt in them for texture.

“You know what else is good for me? Protein, well done.” I like it with extra charcoal.

Aqua shudders. “I can put protein powder in yours,” he offers, like that’s going to make a difference. But he’s being nice, so I nod.

“Thanks.” I hope my smile doesn’t look as much like a grimace as it feels, though from the way River’s biting his lip to keep from laughing, I think that hope is in vain. I slide onto a stool beside him at the island. “You guys are here late.” They normally leave as early as possible to get Aqua into the ocean. River likes it there too.

“I’m not diving today,” River answers the implied question. “I’ve got research notes to type up and organize if I want to publish this next paper. Aqua decided to delay leaving so we could have breakfast together.”

“Anything for more time with my River,” Aqua adds, then turns the blender on. Two months ago, I would have rolled my eyes at that, but I get it now. If it wouldn’t cause problems for Bran at his job, I’d go hang out there to spend more time with him.

Aqua puts my smoothie in front of me a minute later, then joins us with his own. “Perry said to tell you he thinks something is going on with George, but he’s not sure what.”

I swallow my mouthful of watery fruit puree and nod. “Yeah, I noticed that. He’s spending a lot of time off by himself somewhere, and he never really has a good answer for where.”

“Do you think it’s us?” River asks worriedly. “The house has gotten a lot fuller this year—are all the extra noise and people worrying him?”

“Nah,” Aqua declares, and I point.

“What he said. If it was that, he’d just bitch about it. Maybe he’s hooking up with someone new? He doesn’t usually do more than one-night stands, but occasionally he’s had a fuck buddy in other lives.”

Aqua shrugs. “That’s probably it. Except why wouldn’t he just say that? He’s not shy.”

I snort at the idea of George being shy, but he has a point. Why wouldn’t George just say so, instead of fobbing us off with vague comments like “I was out.”

“Let’s give him space for now,” I suggest, though I privately resolve to feel him out about it—subtly. “If he does need some time to adjust to the noise, or if he’s hooking up with someone, it’ll blow over within the next few months.”

Aqua makes an agreeing noise and then asks River a question about his research. I take another swallow of my smoothie and decide that as soon as they leave the kitchen, I’m gonna burn me some bacon.

A thread lights up in my consciousness, the awareness that a wildfire has taken hold not too far away. Normally I ignore these—I’m aware of every flame that exists on the planet, so I’d go insane if I gave much attention to any except the out-of-control ones. But since I met Bran and learned about their arsonist, I’ve been investigating every wildfire along the western seaboard that might be out of place.

Reaching out now, I find the awareness of the fire. It doesn’t think or feel the way humans do, or even animals, but anything that exists has a rudimentary consciousness—a pursuit of existence. For fire, it’s to burn.

In the echoes of its origin, I see a match thrown into dry brush.

And then another, a few feet away.

And another.

And another.

Definitely arson.

“Fuck.” I put down my smoothie as the others look over at me.

“What is it?” River asks, concerned.

“Arsonist.” I’m skimming through the fire’s imprints of those early moments, looking for images, impressions.

“The one Bran thought was you?” Aqua perks up. “Do you need me to rain on the fire?”

I open my mouth to snap, then pause. That might not be a bad idea. It’s been burning for long enough now to have gained a foothold, and by the time the fire department gets there…

“Let me see if I can identify the arsonist first.” I’m not putting this fire out until I have the information I need.

The flames from the matches would have had the closest impression of their creator, so I start there. Big hands, callused and rough. The body is also big, and wearing… a plain black tee. That’s disappointing. The face… Unfortunately, the matches were held too low and at the wrong angle for me to see more than a shadowed jawline.

I cycle forward, waiting for each of those tiny first fires to take hold, grow large enough to eat the brush, and come into sight of the arsonist again.

There. Perfect. Four angles, giving me a great view of both profiles and the front of his face. I’m a little surprised to see that he’s not smiling as he looks at the fires. Arsonists who light fires for the joy of fire, because they can’t resist the impulse and have been under stress that only lighting a fire can fix—pyromaniacs—feel pleasure from lighting fires and seeing them take hold. This man just seems… intent. As though he has a reason for setting this fire.

Maybe he’s not the particular arsonist we’re looking for. Or if he is, there’s something bigger going on.

“Can you look up an area for me?” I ask abruptly. “Tell me what’s there?” The fastest way to rule this man out as being our arsonist is to work out why he’s started this fire.

“Sure,” River says, pulling out his phone. “Address?”

I hesitate, then expand my awareness. “It’s, uh, out near Blossom Valley, I think.” I give him vague coordinates that don’t help at all.

Then he has the bright idea of checking the online fire maps and trackers. The fire is still young but established enough to have caught my attention as problematic, and sure enough, it’s already been reported—in the Blossom Valley Summit Preserve. I match the satellite photos he shows me of the area to the images in my head.

“That’s the one. What’s close to the fire? Anything that someone might be trying to burn down?”

He double-checks the location, then grimaces. “Not really. There are some towns nearby, but the fire itself is in the middle of the preserve, off the hiking trail. It’s not a long trail, and the fire would probably cover that quicker than a person, but I don’t think you could set a fire there and be sure that it would burn down something in one of the towns.”

I make up my mind. “I need to go check it out.” Knocking back the last of my smoothie—for energy, if nothing else—I parse through the images coming from the fire in real time, looking for the man. Is he still there? Arsonists often like to watch the fruits of their labor, and pyromaniacs especially do.

There he is—standing with a group of hikers, all of them watching the blaze. One is on her phone, presumably talking to emergency services, while another is holding up his phone, possibly taking photos or video. The arsonist is just standing there, looking around. Occasionally he glances back at the fire, as though to check it’s still there, but mostly he’s… ignoring it?

I don’t know what to make of this.

“Aqua, I’m sorry, can you put off your swim for a while? I need to keep tabs on this guy, which means I probably shouldn’t drive.” There are faster ways for me to get where I need to go than mundane human vehicles, but they take a lot of energy, and it’s not worth it for such a short trip. The way Aqua drives, we’ll be there in half an hour. The fire crew has to get access to the blaze—there’s no way they’ll have put it out before I get there. If this guy sticks around?—

An image flashes in my mind of the man watching a fire, but it’s not this one. It’s another fire I was at… maybe last year?

It’s not proof he set that fire as well, but it’s definitely a coincidence worth checking out.

“Let’s go now.”

I was right—by the time we get to the trailhead, the fire crew is only just beginning work on the fire. They’ve closed the trail, of course, and the last ten minutes were somewhat anxious for me when the onlookers were shooed away and asked to return to the parking lot. I was concerned that our guy might just leave once he wasn’t close enough to see the fire properly. I scan the lot anxiously as Aqua and I get out of the car.

“There, right next to the cordon,” I say at last. There are so many people milling around that?—

Wait. I know that person—he’s in Bran’s division. And that’s his captain. What are they doing here? This isn’t their area.

And where’s Bran?

Quickly, I check in with the fire, searching for him there, but it’s too hard to tell with all the gear. Should I try calling him?

He won’t be able to answer. If he’s here, he’s doing his job. I need to do mine, like I promised him I would. It’s not like this fire is a true threat—not yet, anyway, and I won’t let it get that far.

“Uh, Flame?” Aqua says uncertainly. “I don’t want to freak you out, but there’s a guy standing over there smiling at you. A lot. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

I drag my gaze away from Bran’s crew members to see who?—

The arsonist. The arsonist is staring at me, and he’s grinning wide. That’s… weird. Maybe he recognizes me from the other fire? But why would he be smiling?

“I’m going to talk to him.”

“I’ll come. When do I get to make it rain?”

“Later. Maybe,” I add. There’s a really good chance it won’t be necessary.

We’re halfway across the lot when I’m spotted, and Bran’s captain waves at me and gestures for me to join him. I’ve met him twice since Bran told him I’m a former fire investigator, so it makes sense that he’s not surprised to see me here and that he might want my opinion.

I hold up a finger to indicate I’ll be there in a minute, then cross the remaining distance to the arsonist. I’m still not sure what I’m going to say, but I never get the chance to find out.

“You came. I knew you would.”