Firefighter Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters 3)

CHAPTER ONE

Griff

“Ma’am, is it your son or your cat who’s stuck up the tree?”

The words snagged Griffin MacCormick’s attention as he finished handling another grueling emergency call. Pulling his headset off his ears, he cocked an eyebrow at his colleague at the opposite desk. Kevin caught his eye, and rolled his own, mouthing “time waster” as he pointed at his own headset.

“Let me see if I understand you, ma’am,” Kevin said to the caller, his tone leaden with jaded weariness. “Your cat, who is like a son to you, is stuck up a tree. And you would like the fire services to send a very expensive emergency vehicle, which is meant for emergencies, to attend to your…pussy.”

Having just spent an heart-pounding thirty minutes on the phone with a traumatized caller who was pinned under two tons of smashed, burning car, Griff could sympathize with his colleague’s irritation with the nuisance call, if not his unprofessionalism in letting sarcasm seep into his tone. The East Sussex Fire and Rescue Service was stretched thin just handling the major crises. The seaside city of Brighton might not be particularly large—especially not compared to London—but it was one of the most vibrant cities in England, attracting millions of visitors with its quirky, alternative culture. And lots of drunk, excited tourists looking for a wild night out meant a lot of work for fire dispatchers like Griff.

Especially when quite a few of those drunk, excited tourists were dragons.

Not that Kevin, or indeed any of Griff’s other colleagues in the control room, knew that little secret about their city.

Kevin raised his eyes to the heavens—or at least, to the control room ceiling—as if praying for the strength to deal with the idiot in his earpiece. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m not sure I’m following you. Are you trying to tell me that your son turned into a cat and shot up a tree?”

Now that got Griff’s full attention. Bringing up the office chat utility on his PC, he typed to Kevin, Want me to take over?

Kevin shook his head at him across the desk. Nah, he typed back, one handed. Nearly got rid of her.

“Yes, ma’am, that does sound unbelievable,” Kevin said into his headset. “I see. Yes, ma’am, this was a bad idea. You do that. In future, please don’t call the fire department unless you actually have an emergency. Goodbye.” Pushing his headset down around his neck, he stretched with a groan. “Goddamn bored housewives. I swear that one must have been high on her kid’s meds or something.”

“Sounded like an interesting call,” Griff observed mildly.

“Nah, just another time waster.” With a push of one foot, Kevin propelled his office chair backwards to the whiteboard in the corner, where the dispatch team kept a highly unofficial tally of handled calls. Picking up the blue pen, he added another tick to his row with a sarcastic flourish. “At this rate, I may beat even your record for prank callers this week. I swear you’re some sort of magnet for the weirdos.”

Griff smiled, privately amused. You have no idea.

“Hey, what was your call just now? Another crazy?” Kevin waved the blue pen. “Or a real one?”

“Big traffic pile-up,” Griff said. “I sent Alpha Team to sort it out. They’ve got it under control.”

“Alpha Team’s the one you used to work with, right?” Kevin said idly, swapping the blue pen for a red one in order to put a tick next to Griff’s name. “Back when you were a firefighter, I mean.”

All Griff’s muscles tensed, sending a jolt of pain through his bad leg.

“Yes,” he said, in a flat tone that he hoped made it clear he didn’t want to discuss his previous profession.

Unfortunately, Kevin’s career as a dispatcher had given him the sensitivity of a rhinoceros. “Must have been interesting. Is Alpha Team really as good as people say they are?”

“No.” The corner of Griff’s mouth twisted wryly. “They’re better.”

A little pang went through his chest as he thought of how Alpha Team would be working together right now, saving lives with their unique combination of shifter skills. Fire Commander Ash calmly controlling the flames while John Doe called down the rain to quench them…Chase sensing where victims were trapped, fireproof Dai charging headlong into the blaze to pull people out to where Hugh would be waiting to heal them…

Griff shook his head, forcibly dispelling the memories. I did my part, he tried to tell himself. I took the call. I got them there, told them what to expect. I’m still part of the team.

His inner eagle stretched its wings proudly. We watch and guide. We fly high, scouting out the way. Our role is essential.

His lion snarled in bitter denial, baring its fangs at the eagle. We cower in the den when we should be defending our pride! And it is all your fault!

Griff mentally thrust his two inner animals apart before they could start fighting yet again. He could still feel the eagle’s fury and the lion’s rage as he wrestled them down to the back of his mind. The effort of keeping the two beasts separated and subdued gave him a splitting headache…but that was better than the alternative.

He became aware that Kevin was giving him an odd look. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Just that you must have some good tales to tell.” Kevin eyed him for a second. “You know, you really should see a doctor about the way you keep spacing out, Griff. What if it happens on a call?”

“It won’t.” Griff said firmly. “And actually, I am.”

For all the good it does me.

“I’m just saying, you have to be fit for the job,” Kevin blundered on, displaying his usual tact and compassion. “We dispatchers may not need muscles like the front line meatheads, but that doesn’t mean we have room for cripples. If your condition interferes-”

“I said, it won’t.” Holding Kevin’s stare, Griff let him see just a hint of the lion behind his own golden eyes.

Kevin flinched back in his chair, and Griff immediately felt ashamed of himself for letting his temper get the better of him. Unleashing his dominance on a regular human—not to mention a colleague—was not only rude, but unsporting. Even another shifter would have a hard t

ime standing up to an alpha lion’s commanding nature.

He called his lion back, allowing his eagle to rise again. His vision sharpened, letting him see Kevin’s slight nervous sweat and increased pulse rate.

“I can do my job,” Griff said, more gently. “You have my word on that. Speaking of the job…did that caller just now really say that her son had turned into a cat?”

“Uh, yeah.” Kevin scooted his chair back to the desk, though Griff noticed he stayed a few inches further away from him than previously. “That was a new one on me. You’d think she’d pick something more plausible, if she was hoping to score a hot firefighter booty call.”

Before Griff could quiz him further, a light on Kevin’s phone started to flash. “Damn it, I was just about to grab a fresh coffee…” Kevin let out a heart-felt, long-suffering sigh, pulling his headset back into place and jabbing a button. “East Sussex Fire and Rescue Service. Where is your emergency?”

Griff took a sip of his own stone-cold coffee, thinking. With a swift glance around to make sure no one else in the control room was watching, he pulled up the record for the call Kevin had just handled. He wasn’t technically supposed to be able to do that, but there was no hiding passwords from his shifter senses. When his eagle was ascendent, he could tell what someone was typing from ten feet away, just from the sound of their fingers hitting the keys.

Kevin might have the compassion of a rock when it came to callers who he thought were time wasters, but he did at least follow proper procedures. He’d dutifully logged the woman’s name and address, before starting to ask questions about the nature of her “emergency.”

Griff logged out of Kevin’s account and sat back, frowning at the screen. A few more clicks showed him that Alpha Team was still fully occupied with the car crash he’d sent them to. Just as well, really. He could just picture Fire Commander Ash’s expression if Griff tried to send him—the one and only Phoenix, and quite possibly the most powerful shifter in Europe—to go rescue a cat from a tree.

Even if the cat is really just a scared little boy…

Problem was, all the shifters in the East Sussex Fire and Rescue Service were in Alpha Team. And while Griff knew a lot of the other shifters in Brighton, it would be a gross breach of confidentiality to share a caller’s address with someone not in the service.

We must go, his eagle said, unexpectedly. She called. We must answer.

The bird is right, his lion rumbled. Go, now, quickly!

Griff blinked. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times in his life that his two inner beasts had ever been in agreement on anything.

“And another ‘dumb kids setting fire to leaves in the park’ for me,” Kevin grumbled, flipping up his headset’s microphone. “Only six more bloody hours to go. Griff, not that I’m complaining about the amount of unpaid overtime you put in, but you do realize your shift ended over an hour ago, right? Isn’t it time you went home?”