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The officer chewed on her lip for a second, but then gestured to a tall firefighter whose helmet readCaptain. When he joined them, she said, “This is the business owner.”
The man—who was a good head taller than Finn, who was a head taller than Gary—looked down at them out of intense amber eyes. “What can you tell me?”
“The commercial oven is the source of the smoke.” Gary pointed down the alley. “The direct access door is there.” He looked up with pleading eyes. “Please. I know you have to do what you have to do to keep people safe, but I didn’t see any actual fire before I ran out. Don’t”—his voice broke—“destroy anything you don’t have to?”
The captain smiled down at Gary and, for an instant, Finn detected a different kind of smoke—something redolent of sun-baked sand and tamarisk and myrtle instead of the chemical-laden smoke from the kitchen.
“We’ll only do what’s necessary. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Gary nestled against Finn, and Finn gathered him close. “That’s all I can ask.”
The captain nodded and strode off, a gaggle of other firefighters in full turnout gear falling in behind him. Two firefighters stayed behind, hooking the hose up to the hydrant on the corner. Gary watched them, trembling against Finn, and Finn tried to keep his coughs buried in his chest.
“Do you think they’ll have to use water?”
“I don’t know, babe,” Finn said, startled into a coughing fit when the endearment slipped out.
Gary frowned up at him.Shit. Had Finn justassumedthey were on the same page? Did Gary want to keep distance between them?
But he was cuddled against Finn right now, in public, in full view of anyone with a cell phone, so it wasn’t as though he objected to PDA. Maybe he just objected to beingclaimedthat way without his consent?
“Sorry,” Finn said. “That just slipped ou—” Another coughing fit racked his body and he had to turn away from Gary and brace his hands on his knees.
Gary’s hand was warm on the small of his back. “Finn, I was frowning because you were coughing. You’re clearly suffering from smoke inhalation.” He leaned closer and chuckled. “Although if you think I object to you calling mebabe, your brain might have been affected as much as your lungs.”
Finn inhaled shakily—managing not to cough, thank fuck—and stood. “I’ll be fine.”
Gary’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you will. Because I’m taking you to the EMTs right now.” He linked his elbow with Finn’s and drew him into the street toward the ambulance.
Finn resisted. He couldn’t risk human paramedics taking his vitals. Werewolves ran hot, and their calon—the extra organ every supe had under their heart—always created an echo that made human medical personnel order an EKG, stat. And don’t get him started on blood pressure. If his cough persisted, he could go back to St. Stupid’s and get treated there.
“I’ll really be fine.” Of course, he choked on the last word and started coughing again. Remus’s balls, what wasinthat smoke?
“Sir?” The captain was suddenly there, in front of them, his face shield flipped up, and Finn gave thanks for the respite.
Gary gulped audibly, and he glanced at the firefighters with the hose. They were alert, but unmoving. “Yes?”
The captain smiled down at Gary. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
Gary closed his eyes for an instant, his hand tightening on Finn’s, before he met the captain’s gaze. “Give me the good first, so I can brace myself for the bad.”
“The incident appears limited to the commercial oven alone. No sign of open flames, and no indication that other fixtures or the building itself were compromised in any way.”
“That’s…” Gary inhaled and exhaled shakily. “Good. I guess.” He peered up at the captain. “The bad?”
“Although the oven didn’t precisely catch fire, we can’t identify why it’s still smoking. There didn’t seem to be anything in it?” He lifted his brows along with the end of his sentence.
“No. Not yet.”
“As we thought. Which means the problem must be in its wiring. We’ll need to dismantle it and remove it from the premises, in case there’s an issue we can’t detect now.”
Gary nodded glumly as a pair of firefighters walked by, each carrying what was obviously an oven door. “I understand.”
“There’ll also be significant smoke damage to the kitchen. It didn’t seem to spread to the restaurant, but I’m afraid you’ll need to discard any exposed foodstuffs.”
Again, Gary nodded as two more firefighters walked past, carrying a charred metal panel between them.
“Now,” the captain said, a note of command in his tone as he beckoned to a tall woman in an EMT uniform, “anyone who was in that kitchen needs to be checked out. That smoke was quite caustic. It could have severe effects if you inhaled enough of it.”
