Jane Kindred - Kindling The Darkness

The boy jumped and scrambled back at the sound of Oliver’s radio crackling with an announcement from the team leader that the fire was contained.

“It’s okay,” Oliver assured him. “Everybody’s going to be leaving soon. I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

Looking only slightly less mistrusting, the kid nodded.

“So you can understand my language, yeah?”

Another nod.

“Can you speak it?”

No answer.

“Okay, forget about that for now. Do you have a name?”

The kid blinked at him, understanding but clearly having no words. Whether it was because he didn’t have a name or simply couldn’t speak at all, Oliver wasn’t sure.

“Can I give you one? Just to make it easier for me to talk to you.” When the boy didn’t shake his head, Oliver pondered it for a moment. “How about Colt?” He reminded Oliver of one, skittish and wild.

The boy considered it and seemed to recognize its meaning, as a shy smile spread slowly across his face, and he nodded.

“Okay, Colt. I have to go right now, but I’m going to come back in a little bit. Will you stay here and wait for me? I can bring you some proper food and some water, give you someplace warm to sleep—but I’m not going to take you anywhere, don’t worry,” he added as Colt looked alarmed at the last bit. “I’m not going to bring anyone, either.”

Colt’s demeanor relaxed to his previous level of vigilance, and he hugged his knees, resting his chin on them with a slight, wary nod.

Oliver’s radio went off again, his partner wanting to know where he was.

He straightened and responded before nodding to Colt once more. “Be back in a bit.”

As he arrived at the front of the lot, a little zing of dismayingly pleasant recognition went through him at the sight of Lucy Smok conversing with one of the other firefighters. When she turned her head as if feeling his gaze on her, he smiled. And then felt like an idiot. What the hell was he smiling about? They weren’t friends. He tried to look nonchalant and let the smile fade naturally. Lucy’s expression made it pretty clear that he’d only succeeding in pulling off “idiot.”

She took in his uniform as he came closer and managed a perfect Spock eyebrow lift. “So now you’re a firefighter, too?” The words sounded like an accusation, like she thought he was messing with her.

“It’s a volunteer fire department, and I’m a volunteer. So, yeah, I guess. I mean, yeah.” Jesus . Why was he on the defensive all of a sudden? Something weird had happened last night. With that one little look from her as he’d kept her from falling, he’d lost his own mental footing with her.

The eyebrow was still halfway up. “Okay.” She seemed to be waiting for him to say something else.

Oliver cleared his throat. “What brings you here?” Jesus.

“The fire. I got a tip that someone had seen a wild dog out here right after the fire broke out. I thought I’d check and see if our...” She paused and glanced at the crew packing up around them. “If there was any connection to the case. Did you see it?”

Oliver had been watching her lips move, the dark lipstick she favored mesmerizing, and he’d forgotten to listen to the words she was saying. “Sorry, see what?”

Lucy gave him that inscrutable look once more. “The wild dog.”

He shook his head, and even as he said no, a certainty struck him in the gut. Of course he had. Colt.

“Well, it sounds like it wasn’t big enough to have been...the animal in the other reports, but your chief says this fire looks suspicious. Definitely arson, but I’m getting another vibe. Like the origins don’t make sense. No incendiary devices, no clear starting point, just combustion out of nowhere. Which is right up my alley. With Smok Consulting, I mean.”

“Smoke.” He was just blurting out dumb-ass shit now. So they sounded the same. Smoke/Smok. This wasn’t news.

Lucy squinted at him. “Right.”

“Well, I’ve gotta run. I’ll see if I can get any more details about the cause.” Halfway to the truck, he paused and glanced back. “How are those stitches? You look rested.”

“I... It’s fine. Yeah, I did. Get some rest.” Now Lucy was stumbling over her words, too.

He tried not to smile. “Okay, I’ll check in with you later?”

She nodded, and Oliver climbed onto the truck, avoiding looking at her as they pulled out of the lot, because looking at her made him feel warm. God, he was completely regressing to an adolescent state.

He shook himself mentally, remembering that Colt was waiting for him.

* * *

He gave it an hour before heading back in his regular clothes, a few boxes and a small rolled-up carpet loaded into the back of his pickup. The storage facility attendant didn’t bat an eye. They hadn’t had any direct interaction when he was here in uniform, so Oliver hadn’t expected him to, but he still felt guilty, like he was doing something illicit. Which, of course, he was. But not because of the fire. At least, he hoped it wasn’t because of the fire.

He asked for a unit in back, saying he didn’t want his stuff to smell like smoke, and the attendant accommodated him without question. The unit was just two down from the trash bins where he hoped Colt was still waiting.

After unrolling the carpet on the floor of the unit and moving his boxes into it, Oliver unpacked the inflatable mattress and pump and set it up before heading to the trash bins. At first glance, he thought Colt had taken off, but the boy scrambled out from between the bins and the wall after evidently seeing that it was Oliver. It had probably taken Colt a moment to recognize him out of uniform.

“Hey, Colt. So I brought you some stuff, and I’ve put it in that storage unit over there, see?” He walked back to the opening between the rows and pointed, waiting until Colt moved forward cautiously to see where he was pointing. Oliver held out the key. “You can use it if you want. It’s not meant for living in, but you can stay here overnight if you promise to stay out of sight if anyone comes around. Can you do that?”

Colt stared at the key and eyed the open door again warily.

“Come on. I’ll show you what I brought.” Oliver walked back to the unit, and in a moment, Colt followed, skittish and scuttling, moving in short bursts. He had definitely learned to stay out of sight in however long he’d been on his own.

Inside the unit, Colt gaped at the bed and blankets, but was even more impressed by the cooler of food and cold water Oliver directed his attention to.

“There’s more water in here.” Oliver showed him the box. “And some hand wipes. And there’s a lantern that works on batteries. There’s also some stuff to read if you want it. I don’t know if you read.”

Colt was already busy tearing into the sandwiches and fruit in the cooler. In a few minutes, he’d settled on the little bed, eating his lunch and looking with curious interest at one of the comic books Oliver had taken out of the box. It looked like the makeshift hideout was a hit. Now he just had to figure out a longer-term plan. And determine exactly what Colt was—and whether, as Oliver suspected, he was the cause of the morning’s fire.

Chapter 6

Oliver Connery was up to something. If that was even his name. He’d had a guilty look on his face the entire time Lucy had been talking to him. And what better cover would some kind of paranormal arsonist have than being a volunteer fireman?

She loosened the top two buttons on her shirt as she sat in her car outside the Civic Center building after picking up the list of eyewitnesses Nora had finally compiled. For November—or was it December now? That might explain all the irritating lights and decorations she kept seeing around Jerome—it was awfully warm. Except it wasn’t the weather. It was her damn wyvern thermostat.