Stretched out on his favorite couch the next night, Niall listened half-heartedly to the conversation on the other side of their great room.
Heather and André had been discussing the lack of a police chief. Then Ina and Murtagh had shown up and joined in.
Maybe it was time to retreat to his work den? Yet… Niall didn’t move. He’d built a nice crackling fire in the big fireplace, and the soft warmth radiated outward.
In the flames, a salamander was dancing with mesmerizingly sinuous movements. It was smaller and a lighter red than a lot of the fire elementals he’d seen. Must be a young one.
A prickle on his neck made him realize he was being watched. The conversation across the room had stopped. When he turned his head, Ina and Murtagh were staring at him. Heather was frowning.
André rubbed his neck and explained. “Brawd, they want to know if you would be the police chief.”
Fuck me sideways. He bit back his first answer that would probably put the Elders in shock. “Absolutely not.”
“But cahirs can be law enforcement,” Ina protested. “Alec up in Cold Creek is the county sheriff.”
Niall had met the big tawny cahir from the North Cascades. Good male. “Alec likes to be around people. I don’t.”
Ina blinked.
“There’s a reason I work with computers. No people needed.”
Ina looked startled. “But…you’re a cahir.”
Niall gave the Elders a slightly mean smile. “As such, I don’t do diplomacy. I just break necks.”
Murtagh snorted a laugh, then held up a hand. “Forgive us. We sometimes forget the Gods-called have their own personalities.”
Niall nodded and went back to his job of dozing. Fair division of labor, right?
In the fireplace, the salamander was still playing. After a showy pirouette, the fire elemental rose up the chimney. A second later, it reappeared in a spiraling dive—but hit the side of a log and landed in the coals. Sparks exploded up the chimney.
Obviously humiliated, the little salamander disappeared behind the burning wood.
Niall let out a laugh.
Coal-black eyes glared at him from under a log.
Oh fuck. Next time he tried to start a fire, the damn elemental would undoubtedly snuff it right out—several times. Salamanders held grudges.
Across the room, the discussion about the police chief continued. It was a shame André didn’t have a clone.
But they did have someone much like him. “Brawd, you might ask Bron if she’d like a change.”
“Bron?” André’s brows drew up, then he grinned. “She was complaining about being bored.”
“We could use another cahir anyway.” Niall’s gut tightened. “The States have more hellhound activity than Canada.”
André’s mouth flattened. Because one cahir taking on a hellhound was essentially a death sentence. “I’ll call her.”
“Who is Bron?” Ina asked.
“Ah, our aunt—one of the few female cahirs—and also in the RCMP.” André smiled. “She’s the one who talked me into being a Mountie.”
Niall added, “She’s tough, but a good cop. Has even worked here in the States before. And she likes people.”
“Nice fire, cahir.” Heather joined Niall, standing beside the couch.
Seeing it had an audience, the salamander began to dance again, showing off its twirls and dives.
“C’mere, female.” Wrapping an arm around Heather’s hips, Niall pulled her down to sit on his belly. A wonderful weight, nice and toasty. “Thanks. I was cold.”
Her resonant laugh burst out as she eyed his bare feet and T-shirt. “Might I recommend more clothing and a blanket?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He laced his fingers with her good hand. “You know, my room is the one next to André’s. You’re welcome to join me anytime. For snuggles and sleep, or for exercise then sleep.”
She tilted her head to one side, considering him. Such beautiful eyes, filled with intelligence. “I thought you didn’t like people.”
“You’re not people, pretty wolf. You’re turning into family.”
Her eyes gleamed with tears for a moment before she said softly, “What a lovely compliment. Thank you.”
It wasn’t a compliment, merely a fact, and one he was trying to come to terms with. She was becoming…important.
When she wasn’t around, the world felt a little less alive.