Never Dare a Dragon Page 2

  As if conjured, Luca, the youngest Fierro brother, stepped outside. “Hey, Jayce. The captain is about to make a speech.”

  “Shit. Another speech?”

  “I guess he didn’t want to be outdone by the chief.”

  Luca and Jayce returned to the fire station where Ryan and their father had worked. It was time for the brothers to brush up on their acting skills.

  Acting. Everything reminded him of Kristine, even after only a ten-minute conversation. What the hell is wrong with me?

  * * *

  Two days later, Kristine was back to work at her fire station in Hell’s Kitchen, back to studying for the lieutenant’s exam. Her life seemed on track, but something was missing.

  Her mind had returned over and over again to that bright smile and those dark eyes glinting with naughtiness. She kept telling herself to forget about the handsome Boston lieutenant. When he had mentioned her transferring to Boston, she had thought about it for all of one heartbeat. Then she remembered everything she would be giving up in New York.

  If she went to Boston, she’d have to go through the fire academy all over again and start at the bottom rung as a probie. During their early days on the job, a firefighter was on probation, therefore the term “probie” became common slang, like “rookie” for a brand-new cop. The technical term was FFOP—Firefighter on Probation. That was no better. Either way, it seemed like a slap in the face after all she’d been through. And with only a few months left to finish her degree in fire science, she had a better chance for a promotion to captain or chief someday. Not to mention that her mother depended upon her half of the rent.

  Years ago, Hell’s Kitchen had been a tough neighborhood. Mother and daughter were dragons—not as vulnerable as humans, so they felt safe enough there. Then in the early ’90s, the middle class began moving in and gentrifying the area. Kristine and her mother had lived there all that time and had watched their rent go up, up, up. With no father to help or pay child support, her mother had had to work two jobs—while pursuing an acting career. Kristine vowed she would never forget that. It still took two salaries to live there, but only one of them would be her mother’s. Amy Scott had finally landed her dream job. She taught at a nearby acting school.

  Even though Kristine had grown up among actors, artists, and writers, she hadn’t inherited the need to express herself publicly. Despite being paranormally gifted, she had been a sheltered kid—and that was fine with her. As a little dragon, she’d never felt like she fit in. She was happiest when reading in her room overlooking Ninth Avenue.

  She knew she wasn’t supposed to talk about shapeshifting or demonstrate what she could do, ever. When she grew up, she realized there was something special she could do with her powers other than just protect herself. Because she was fireproof, she would make an ideal firefighter. She could protect her community.

  She loved the job. Only a handful of women worked for the FDNY, and half of them were on ambulances. She was one of the few with the strength and fortitude to do the heavy lifting required of a firefighter on the front lines.

  She had proven herself to be the equal of any man in her battalion. They respected her and depended upon her to have their backs. And as much as she cared about her fellow firefighters, she could never see herself falling in love with one of them. She would worry constantly, knowing what he was up against as a mere mortal.

  One ordinary Thursday, her battalion was gathered around the long kitchen table, eating lunch and watching Judge Judy on the wall-mounted TV, when the tones rang out. They all rushed to their turnout gear, suited up, and jumped into their usual roles.

  Kristine rode next to Donovan on the ladder truck. When the truck pulled up to the high-rise office building, smoke was pouring out of two large broken windows on the fourth floor. A police cruiser was already there, getting people to clear the area for the fire apparatus. So far nothing seemed unusual.

  Kristine and Donovan followed the captain into the building to locate the seat of the fire. Alarms were blaring, and people were filing down the stairs. When the firefighters came to the fourth floor, they located the office they had seen from the outside. The captain pounded on the door and yelled, identifying them as the fire department.

  When there was no response, the captain instructed Kristine and Donovan to take off the door with the ax and halligan bar. Two other firefighters from the engine company rushed up behind them hauling the hose. One of them broke into the firebox on the wall. As soon as the door was breached, flames shot out from the hole.

  They had the right place.

  When they got the door open, the captain barked out, “Scotty, stay with me. Donovan, go above and see if anyone is still up there.”

  “Yes sir,” he said and dashed to the stairs.

  The captain didn’t need to tell Kristine to step aside. When the pressurized water hit the fire, steam filled the hallway. The guy carrying the hose entered slowly, bathing the place in water. Between the smoke and steam, firefighters had to go in blind and look for survivors or people who weren’t that lucky.

  “Scotty, stay beside me.”

  Kristine followed the captain’s orders, even though she knew he was in more danger than she was. He kept one gloved hand on the wall to avoid becoming lost. She placed a hand on his shoulder and walked a few feet to his right. Even a dragon could barely see through this.

  Her foot hit something dense but soft. Squatting down, she felt a leg. “I’ve got someone,” she said. Hauling the person up by the arms, she tossed his torso over her shoulder and made her way back to the door.

  She heard the captain shouting into the radio that she was coming down and to have EMS ready. Something felt off about the body she was carrying. She had to adjust its position to account for an uneven distribution of weight.

  When she finally made it to the street level, the EMTs were there to meet her, but as she emerged, their eyes bugged out of their heads.

  “You’re covered in blood!” the female EMT exclaimed.

  She glanced down and saw that it was true. She squatted down, braced the victim’s back with her hand, and gently laid the headless body onto the sidewalk. Startled, she jumped backward and gasped.

  The cop who had been redirecting traffic ran over. “What the hell?”

  The chief strode over and set his hands on his hips. “As soon as we put the fire out, you can have your crime scene.”

  “Jesus,” muttered the male EMT. “The coroner won’t have any problem identifying cause of death.”

  The captain’s voice crackled over the radio, alerting the chief that he was coming out with another body.

  “You don’t have to go back in there, Scotty. You’ve got to be pretty shaken up right now.”

  “No, sir. I’m fine. I’d like to go back in there and help where I’m needed.”

  The chief smiled and nodded.

  On her way back in, she passed the captain, carrying a second body in the same condition. She didn’t take the time to find out if he knew what was going on; she just rushed up the stairs faster.

  I wonder where the heads are.

  When she reached the fourth floor, the steam met her as soon as she opened the fire door. She rushed through it and worried about her mortal coworkers, who could be standing in boiling water.

  If she had to shift, her thick scales would protect her, and her alternate form’s wings wouldn’t show because her turnout gear covered her up to the neck. She only had to worry about her snout protruding and interfering with her breathing apparatus. Fortunately, she wasn’t huge like the dragons of Hollywood. She was five-foot-ten as a human or dragon.

  The fire was almost out, and she could see that the walls of the room were still intact, as was the ceiling. Apparently they had stopped this fire from traveling very far. The building’s sprinklers may have helped slightly. She suspected that the fire was
meant to cover the crime scene—and that the location of the bodies would prove to be where the fire was set…deliberately.

  Even in New York, this was unusual. Not that fires weren’t accidents—faulty wiring, an unattended cigarette, deep-fried turkeys—oh yeah, plenty of accidents. They had their fair share of arson too, but it was usually to defraud an insurance company. Not to cover up decapitations.

  As the smoke and steam cleared, she glanced around the room, casually looking for a couple of male heads. The other two firefighters seemed blissfully unaware of the unusual circumstances. Just thinking about it, bile rose to her throat. She didn’t envy the cops their jobs, especially after something like this.

  She couldn’t help wondering if this sort of stuff happened in Boston too. It probably did, but maybe on a smaller scale.

  Boston again. When would she stop thinking about what it would be like to be a firefighter in Boston, working with a particular sexy firefighter she couldn’t seem to get off her mind? She loved New York. It made every other city she’d ever visited pale by comparison.

  * * *

  Two months later, Jayce and Gabe were back at the Back Bay firehouse on Boylston Street, filling in for the firefighters who were marching in the big South Boston St. Patrick’s Day Parade.

  As the two sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee, Jayce couldn’t help feeling guilty because his whole family had avoided Chloe. Any one of them could have given away Ryan’s secret in a moment of compassionate weakness. But now she was right there in the building—somewhere. Maybe she was avoiding them too.

  That girl had loved his brother so much. He’d heard that she looked like a zombie ever since the funeral. According to his sources, she was going through the motions at work and keeping to herself. Avoiding her any longer seemed cruel.

  “C’mon, Gabe. Let’s find Chloe and at least say hello.”

  “I know we were supposed to leave her be, but you’re right. Enough is enough.”

  At that moment one of the station’s regular firefighters walked into the kitchen and headed for the coffeepot. “Hey, guys. Thanks for filling in. I’m Lieutenant Streeter, by the way.”

  The Fierros stood and shook the lieutenant’s hand as they introduced themselves.

  “Uh, we’d like to give Chloe our respects. I understand she’s working today. Do you know where we might find her?”

  “She’s probably in her room. Second floor, toward the front. Next to the bathroom with ‘ladies’ written on it with Magic Marker.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Gabe said.

  Jayce and Gabe headed up the stairs and found the room. They knocked, and something thudded, as if a heavy object had hit the floor. Jayce glanced over at Gabe, who gazed back, eyebrows raised. Just then the door whooshed open and Chloe smiled at them.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey there, Chloe. We just thought we’d say hello since we’re working here today.”

  “Jayce? And Gabe, is it?”

  “Yep. Two of the famous Fierros,” Gabe said, trying to sound chipper.

  “I think I heard something heavy fall on the floor,” Jayce said. “Is everything all right?”

  She smirked and hesitated. She almost seemed to be thinking about how to answer the question. Jayce remembered she could be a bit of a smart-ass.

  “Oh, quite. I just dropped me dictionary,” she said with her lilting Irish accent.

  “I’ll get it,” Jayce said as he started inside, his gaze searching for a book on the floor and not finding one.

  “Leave it. I’ll get it later.” She opened the door wider. “Come in, come in. I don’t have much room to sit, but there’s a comfortable armchair in the corner for one of you, and I can bring over the desk chair for the other.”

  “I’ll get it, Chloe,” Gabe said.

  “Don’t be silly. I’m closest to it,” she said. “Besides, I don’t want to be treated any differently. Certainly not because I was in love with your brother and you think I’m a fragile little girl.”

  The brothers laughed nervously. “No. There’s no danger of anyone thinking that, Chloe,” Jayce said.

  She stopped on her way to the chair and turned slowly. “There’s not? Why not? I’m a girl, and I’ve been in a terrible state since your brother died.”

  Gabe’s face fell; the situation was becoming decidedly uncomfortable. Jayce kicked at the old wood floor. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “For not…you know…” He looked to Gabe for help, but his younger brother just shrugged.

  She tipped her head to the side and waited. Jayce wished he could find the right words when he needed them. Instead, he just spoke the truth. “I—I don’t know what to say, Chloe.”

  “I think that’s why it took us so long to check on you,” Gabe added. “None of us knew what to say.”

  “And why is that?” She folded her arms but didn’t look angry.

  Shit. They should have sent flowers or something. But no one disobeyed their father, and Antonio Fierro had issued his edict. Leave her be until Ryan could decide what to do about her. And he wouldn’t be back in human form until—well, any day now.

  “I called your mother a couple of times, just to ask how she was doin’,” Chloe continued. “She sounded all right. I figured your mother was gettin’ through it because she had a lot of support. I would have liked some too.”

  Jayce groaned.

  “We figured you were, you know…okay,” Gabe said.

  “But you didn’t ask. How could you know?”

  Jayce began to fidget. “Yeah, you’re right…”

  She waited, but he didn’t finish his thought. He just tried to get past her to the desk. “Let me get that chair.”

  She stepped back, and when he rounded the end of her bed, he couldn’t help noticing the back half of a naked man trying to jam his big frame under it.

  “Oh!” he said. “Oh, I didn’t realize…”

  She batted her eyelashes innocently. “Didn’t realize what?”

  “That you had company.” He pointed to the figure on the far side of her bed.

  She crossed to the door and shut it. Gabe followed his brother’s gaze. The two of them stared at the form of a man, buck naked, wriggling out from under Chloe’s bed.

  When Ryan rose and turned around, Chloe must have seen his brothers’ wide eyes and known that they’d had no idea he was there “in the flesh.” She grabbed a bath towel off her dresser and tossed it across the bed to her lover.

  Gabe whooped and hugged Ryan briefly. He backed away and let Jayce shake Ryan’s hand.

  Grinning, Ryan set his hands on his towel-covered hips and addressed his girl. “Yup. No dust bunnies under there. You passed inspection, Chloe.”

  All three brothers burst out laughing.

  Mr. Fierro burst through Chloe’s door and dropped a paper bag on her bed—he must have discovered Ryan was no longer in their home. Upon seeing his son, alive and healthy, he sighed with relief. “I knew you’d come to her first.” Then he asked him, “How much does she know?”

  Ryan smiled at Chloe with pride. “Everything. She knows everything.”

  “And she’s still standing?” He grabbed Chloe up in his arms, whooped, and gave her a huge impulsive hug. Jayce was impressed when she didn’t cry out or act like he was squeezing her to death. Instead, she laughed and gave as good as she got.

  When he’d put her down, he strode around the bed to his recently reincarnated son and shook his hand. “Welcome back.”

  Mrs. Fierro appeared in the doorway, huffing and puffing. “Thanks, Antonio.”

  “Sorry, love. I couldn’t wait to see if Ryan was really here.”

  His wife strode around the bed. “Neither could I. It’s just that some of us don’t have such long, strong legs.” She winked at Chloe, who was a
lso petite. Ryan had said more than once how impressed he was with her ability to keep up with any man.

  Mama Gabriella hugged Ryan hard, and he returned the hug more gently. As they stood there, his towel fell off. Chloe closed the door while everyone laughed.

  “I guess I should get dressed,” Ryan said casually.

  His mother passed the paper bag to Ryan and stared at Chloe, who just smiled and shrugged.

  “I think she’s seen it all before, Gabriella,” Antonio said.

  “I guess so.”

  Ryan unrolled the paper bag and slipped on his tighty-whities. Then he pulled the fire department T-shirt over his head. Mrs. Fierro had stacked everything in order of dressing. Mr. Fierro smiled with pride at his wonderful wife. Jayce also couldn’t help noticing the loving looks Ryan was exchanging with Chloe Arish.

  They were a match. Jayce would bet his beak on it—and he couldn’t help being a little envious. He had played the field long enough, and there was only one woman he couldn’t get out of his head. A certain FDNY firefighter named Kristine Scott.

  That’s when he made up his mind. He was going to take a well-earned vacation—in Manhattan.

  Chapter 2

  Jayce had done a little checking on the firehouse he planned to visit. “Pride of Midtown” didn’t even begin to cover it. This particular station had lost fifteen firefighters on 9/11. More than any other. Its firefighters were considered experts in high-rise rescues, so they had been among the first on the scene.

  As for the part of the patch that said “Never missed a performance,” well, what Kristine had said was true. The station was in the heart of the theater district. Jayce passed the acting school as he walked around the neighborhood. He almost missed it because it looked like a church.

  But the firefighters’ performances were worthy of more incredible awards than a Tony or Emmy. In one recent year they responded to more than nine thousand calls between two companies. How they managed to do that blew his mind.