Page 7 of Autumn L.A.W

“You okay?” Sahara asked, quieter than usual.

Lioness blinked. “Yeah. Maybe. That one hit hard.”

Of course it did. Sahara had seen the aftermath in the ruined glyphs and the frantic lines. Whatever Lioness saw, it was evolving. Growing.

Sahara wanted to snap again. She wanted to shake Lioness for grabbing her notebook and drawing over the prep work that she’d spent time perfecting. But the truth was simple and infuriating.

Lioness wasn’t wrong. And Sahara needed her. Before she could decide what to say next, a voice called from behind them.

“Lioness?”

Sahara’s spine went stiff. She turned.

Cal Monroe crossed the grass toward them, carrying a scuffed, dust-covered sketchbook. His uniform was cleaner now, but his posture still carried the exhaustion of someone who’d crawled out of a collapsed building. His gaze softened when it landed on Lioness.

Sahara’s protective instincts rose like a tidal wave.

Lioness brightened. “Cal! Did they give you the morning off?”

He huffed out a laugh. “No. But—uh—this was still at the collapse site.” He held up the sketchbook.

Lioness blinked. “My sketches!”

Sahara silently swore. Perfect. The universe had decided today wasn’t chaotic enough. A civilian needed a peek at the league’s secret weapon.

Cal looked between them, noticing the caution tape, the exposed inches of ancient stone, and Sahara’s body language, which said ‘do not come closer’ with all the force of a magical warning siren.

“Are you two working on something?” he asked.

Sahara snapped into a pleasant smile that fooled absolutely no one. “Routine geological assessment.”

Lioness nodded vigorously. “Yep. Very routine. So routine it’s practically boring.”

Cal raised an eyebrow. “Is that why the ground keeps rumbling?”

Sahara gently nudged Lioness behind her, as if she could physically block the firefighter from noticing the impending doom poking out of the dirt. “Ground does that sometimes.”

“Uh-huh,” Cal said. “And was that before or after your friend saved my life by knowing exactly which beams not to touch?”

Lioness perked up. “Oh! I can explain that⁠—”

“No, she cannot,” Sahara said.

Cal laughed, low and warm, and Sahara hated how Lioness froze for a half second at the sound. “Well, can I at least get the phone number of my savior?”

Oh no. Sahara knew that look. That soft-eyed, spark-catching look. It meant trouble. Emotional trouble. She had not signed up for babysitting, plus monster containment, plus firefighter flirting all in one day.

Cal handed the sketchbook to Lioness. Their fingers brushed. Sahara saw Lioness’s breath hitch. She saw that Cal held her gaze for a moment too long.

She saw everything.

“You should take it easy,” he said. “That was a hell of a thing you did.”

Lioness didn’t move, didn’t blink. “I… uh, yeah. You too.” She scribbled her number on a blank page and handed it to him.

Sahara clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Great. Well, we have work.”

Cal cleared his throat. “Right.” He gave Lioness a crooked smile. “I’m headed back to my team. Text me if… Well, you don’t have my number, but I’ll send it to you.”