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“Sorry,” he mouths as he backs off the floor.

I swear four calls come in not even five minutes later and we get busy. Happens every time. Damn.

While I’m on my call, I faintly hear Tami repeating an address, a familiar one, and I turn to her. Muting my headset, I ask, “What’s the address?”

“3405 Ronnin Way,” she says and my heart drops to my stomach.

My nana and papa.

“What’s wrong?”

“Fire.”

The next moments are an absolute blur. I don’t know who finished my call or even how I made it to my Jeep, but in a matter of minutes, I’m speeding to my grandparents.

Chapter

Six

“Why do you even fuck with the bench? You can lift a damn truck if you want?” Kyron asks as he pounds into the boxing bag.

“Same reason you punching that bag. Shit to do,” I say, then raise the bar and weights.

I’m back at the firehouse on shift and working out. Kyron and his brother Hale are in the workout room with me. Today has been chill, too chill, and I need something to keep my mind off the alluring Enani. She’s dominated my every thought for the last two days. I’m so stuck on her pretty ass, convinced she’s mine. I even stopped by the club, hoping she had returned, but she wasn’t there.

“You went to Blood Lust last night?” Kyron asks.

“For a minute but I dipped after about an hour. Were you up in there?”

“Nah. I chilled at the crib.”

Crying about a female, Hale communicates.

Fuck you, Kyron interrupts.

We have a clan link that allows us to communicate our thoughts. Each member of Station 112 is a member of my clan. We are all descendants of the mighty Ethiopian clan, Danakil. Our rare skill of fire absorption originates from our ancestors. Way before vamps were accepted and freely walked among humans, we were feared beings who were often plotted against. Our enemy then was a powerful coven of witches.

Bound by the witches’ magic, our original clan of vamps were gathered and dropped into the Ethral volcano. The goal was to burn all the vamps and eliminate the clan but something went wrong for them but right for the vamps. Somehow, the clan absorbed the fire instead of being burned by it. History says that through the combination of the witches’ power and the vampires’ strength, the clan gained the power to control fire.

Even today, the Ethral mountain is commonly called the gateway to hell because of the hell and fury our ancestors unleashed on the witches and the people working with them. Every person who took part in the betrayal of our ancestors was wiped out.

For one reason or another, many descendants of the clan end up here. For some, it’s simply our connection to fire. For others, it’s a personal reason that they keep to themselves, and for me, it’s all about reparations for my violent past.

Station 112 is ours, vampire owned and operated. We independently fund and source everything ourselves. 112 isn’t controlled or regulated by the city. We have informally agreed to help and they graciously allow us.

While we will take and assist on any call, we primarily focus on extreme fire behavior, blow-ups, and fully involved, defensive fires that the average firefighter can’t tame without risking their own lives. Many lives that would have been lost have been saved because of our unique ability. This is what keeps us going and invested in Station 112.

When I sit up on the bench, the bells go down and we all drop what we are doing. The station speakers broadcast our emergency tone.

“Truck 22, Engine 22, Ambulance 22, 3405 Ronnin Way, elderly couple trapped in a residential home on fire.”

We are being dispatched, so we rush to the bay and put on our turndown gear in seconds. As soon as we are all on engine, Jay starts her and we head out, followed by the truck and our EMS team. En route, I read the dispatch ticket out loud.

INCIDENT #: 2026-1014-0089

PRIORITY: 1 (High)

DISPATCHED TIME IN: 11:51:02