Page 47 of Wildfire Witch

“It is obvious if you know what to look for,” Seth said.

“Yeah, man. And you know what they did from there?” he asked.

“Freak out?” I suggested dryly.

“No.” He gave me another squeeze. “They offered me a job. I work for a bureau in the human government, an alphabet agency they keep hush-hush. I’ve been all over, quashing supernatural threats both foreign and domestic. I was tapped to infiltrate the Fire Brotherhood with my partner, Coda, since we’re a pair of big shifter sonofabitches. Some things came with the territory.”

Rusty touched his arm, where the fire bro tattoo peeked out of his sleeve. “I plan to get it covered up as soon as possible,” he told me.

I nodded, hearing his sincerity. “Sounds like you had a cool job,” I said.

“Have, probably. Finding a fated mate is an excuse for failure. And thank fuck for you, Nix. Once we’re mated, I can stop running. The Arax clan will receive a lovely monogrammed ‘fuck you very much, I’m taken’ signed by us both.” He grinned at the thought, showing off a few sharpened teeth.

I laughed in disbelief. “Do you think that’ll stop them from…you know?”

“We won’t include a picture. I’ll imply you are Phoenix the Mighty, a badass mama wyrm who would eat that councilwoman if she came around these parts.”

I giggled harder at the sheer absurdity of what he’d just said.

“I believe your tale,” Ceridor spoke up. “However, if you bring an angry female great wyrm down on us, I will still reconsider my approval of you.”

Rusty’s dark brows lifted. “Gee, thanks,” he said.

My ears perked up, and I glanced back at him again. “You approve?” I confirmed.

Ceridor had no outward reluctance, only the usual devotion on his tired face. “He is what you need, and I would deny you nothing this important,” he murmured.

“I agree with that. Welcome to the group, Rusty,” Seth said more warmly.

“Thanks, man. Do we have a patch? How about a secret handshake?” the dragon shifter asked.

“We don’t, but I’m sure we can come up with one with how much driving we have yet to do,” he answered.

Ceridor sighed through his nose and closed his eyes, pretending to fall back asleep.

NIX

Accountingfor traffic and various stops for restroom breaks, gas, and more travel snacks, it was past three in the afternoon the next day when we finally reached our destination.

“This isn’t quite Spells Hollow. The ruins are cursed and uninhabitable, but this little road stop is the closest thing to it,” Ceridor explained from the passenger’s seat. He snuggled me tight with a blanket between us so I didn’t take on any more of his chill. I was wrapped up like a burrito and fuzzy headed off of a nap, warm and comfortable.

We’d all rotated through the different seats in the car over the course of the trip. The men drove and divided the “cuddle Nix time” between them equally. After so long trapped in the car together, it was the only way to keep the peace. There were only so many rounds of twenty questions we could play before even the usually calm Seth got snippy.

Ceridor had taken a shift in the driver’s seat overnight, as he was quickly recovering. Enough to remain lucid during late-nighttraffic, at least. He held me to his not-wounded side, as the site of the bite wounds was still tender to the touch.

Rusty guided the car to a parking spot in front of an old-timey diner. My mouth watered at the idea of a sit-down meal. I’d spotted a motel and a gas station on the other side of the road, but it seemed like those were all the landmarks of note around us.

I got unwrapped from my blanket burrito and trotted into the diner eagerly. We got seated at a booth by a window and I slid into one side before realizing there was unspoken tension between the three men, who stood in a cluster and gestured my way. Sighing, I said, “Rusty should sit with me.” He was biggest and I was smallest. Besides, his dragon side was growing testy with leaving me unclaimed. Something as simple as a touch was enough to quell it in the meantime.

“Hell yeah,” he said, sliding in next to me. Seth and Ceridor, in his human glamor, fit in across from us.

A woman with her brunette hair up in a messy tail came to our table with menus and a pad. Her nametag stated her name was Ruth. She took another look at our group and scowled. “More visitors for the ruins?” she grumbled.

Seth flashed his toothpaste-perfect smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Been lots of groups like yours lately.” She circled her pencil to encompass the four of us. “Do yourselves a favor and turn around. Most tourists who go for a visit in the ruins don’t come out again.” After a moment, she added, “I’ll give you a few minutes with the menu.”

Once she was out of earshot, Rusty whistled low. “Ray of sunshine, there,” he muttered.

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