Firefighter Sea Dragon (Fire & Rescue Shifters 4)

Chapter 1

John Doe would never understand human ways.

For sea dragons, mating was simple. If you were fortunate enough to find your one true mate, then you immediately consummated the union. Joining minds and souls was a simple matter of uniting bodies in ecstasy. Nothing more was needed.

Apparently, for humans, tiny paper boxes of pink candies were also required.

“They’re wedding favors, not incendiary devices, John,” Griff said with a small smile. The griffin shifter’s uncannily keen eyesight had obviously caught John’s hesitation. “You don’t need to handle the chocolates so gingerly. They aren’t going to explode.”

“I do not wish to make a mistake.” With infinite care, John lowered the minuscule morsel into the waiting nest of tissue paper. “I would not wish to be the cause of any flaw in your strange human mating ritual.”

Next to him, his comrade Chase let out a muffled snort. The pegasus shifter’s dextrous hands never paused in tying gold and silver ribbons around the boxes, but his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. He and Griff shared a quick, private glance across the table.

John was well used to that particular silent communication amongst his fellow firefighters. It indicated that, once again, he had failed to grasp some fine point of human culture.

Life at the bottom of the sea had been so much simpler.

“I’m already mated to Hayley,” Griff said to John, the laughter lines around his warm golden eyes crinkling with amusement. “The wedding is just a formality. You know that, right?”

“You have devoted six months of unstinting effort to this ‘formality,’ my oath-brother.” John narrowed his own eyes, concentrating on picking up the next chocolate without accidentally squishing it. “And though I am unfamiliar with your mating rituals, I am very familiar with your peculiar human habit of saying one thing and meaning another. I choose to pay attention to your actions rather than your words. And your actions tell me that everything about tomorrow must be perfect.”

Chase cocked an eyebrow at Griff, grinning. “He’s got a point.”

Griff tilted his shaggy blond head a little in wry acknowledgement. “Well, I appreciate the concern, but given that the wedding is tomorrow, we’re going to have to speed up a bit. Don’t worry John, it’s not going to be ruined if a few of the favors are a bit rushed.”

“If you ask me, it wouldn’t be ruined if there were no wedding favors at all,” Hugh muttered from the other end of the table.

The white-haired paramedic had been assigned the duty of attaching decorative plant matter—flowers, John reminded himself of the strange human concept—to the assembled favor boxes. It was a critical task, requiring great delicacy of touch. From Hugh’s scowl, which deepened further with every box, he did not fully appreciate the honor of his role.

“Hugh also has a point,” Chase said, casting a rather mournful look over at the pile of chocolates and cardboard still waiting to be turned into elegant table decorations. “Griff, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we, as your fellow firefighters and dearest friends, had greatly anticipated spending the evening before your wedding toasting your future happiness with your family’s finest Scotch. Not doing arts and crafts. Are these really necessary?”

“Yes,” Griff said amiably. “For one thing, this is keeping all you bastards too busy to scheme to get me drunk tonight.”

“Why would we seek to impair your physical state before such an important event?” John asked, bewildered, as Chase and Hugh spluttered in protest.

“I know you wouldn’t.” Griff bumped John’s shoulder with his own affectionately. “But trust me, it’s another inexplicable human custom for the groom’s friends to try to ensure he’s nursing a hangover down the aisle.”

Hugh glared at Chase. “I told you he’d spot your scheme, and find a way to avoid it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chase said, with great dignity. “And in any case, it was your idea in the first place.”

“So you do not truly require these items, oath-brother? This was just a diversionary tactic?” John dropped the box he’d been unsuccessfully trying to fold, a wave of relief sweeping over him. “I must admit, that makes much more sense. I could not believe that even humans were peculiar enough to have a tradition of giving uselessly tiny portions of foodstuffs to guests as gifts, after the end of a meal.”

Griff’s mouth quirked up. “Ah, no, actually that is a real tradition. And I do genuinely need these. Hayley saw them at a wedding fair and loved them, but ended up deciding they were too expensive. So I thought I’d surprise her. Which means I really do need help.”

“Tempted as I am to leave you to deal with the consequences of your too-clever scheme, Connie would never let me live it dow

n if I abandoned these half-finished. She’s taking her role as Matron of Honor rather seriously.” Chase let out a long-suffering sigh, picking up another box. “The things we do for our mates.”

“The things you poor sods do for your mates,” Hugh corrected, pushing his chair back from the table. “This just makes me hope even more fervently that I never meet mine. Come on, John, let’s go get a drink.”

Yes, whined John’s inner human. This is a boring, pointless task. We aren’t even any good at it. No one would mind if we went and enjoyed ourselves.

With the ease of long practice, John suppressed his inner human’s whispers. No matter the soft, two-legged creature that shared his soul, he was a sea dragon. He was above such selfish, hedonistic instincts.

He lifted his chin. “I cannot abandon my oath-brother in his hour of need. You must go if you feel so moved, but I shall stay until the bitter end.”

Hugh looked hard at him for a moment, then dropped back into his chair with a groan. “For someone who claims to be honor-bound to only tell the truth, you are suspiciously good at manipulating people. No wonder the weather does what you tell it to do.”

“I do not manipulate either water or people,” John said, truthfully. “I simply speak. It is up to the listener to decide what to do in response.”

“I should have managed to inoculate myself against your more-noble-than-thou attitude by now.” Despite his surly words, Hugh picked up another flower and started to weave it into the next box. “You’re a bloody bad influence, you know that?”