Ignite (Legacy) Read Free

wrong at home?” Why the fuck would Bash call? He was on a Hotshot team in California. Hell, he’d left Legacy the same time I did.
    Bishop swallowed and flexed his hands. “They’re resurrecting the team.”
    My jaw hit the fucking floor. “I’m sorry. You’re going to have to say it again.”
    He nodded. “Yeah, I made him say it like six times. I honestly didn’t believe him until Emerson Kendrick got on the phone.”
    “Emmy is in on this, too?” Emmy and Bash had both lost their fathers with ours, buried them next to each other on Legacy Mountain.
    “I never thought it was possible, but they got the town council to agree on one condition.”
    “Which is?” Every emotion possible assaulted me, scraping me raw with disbelief, hope, pride, and a touch of wariness. Was resurrecting a team that had been annihilated the best move? Would it do them justice? Was it cursed to suffer the same fate? We’d buried eighteen out of the nineteen of them.
    It was everything we’d fought for during the first years after the fire, but as time passed, and we’d been denied over and over…well, it became the impossible.
    “It has to be made up primarily of Legacies. Blood of the original team.”
    I stood there, staring at my brother while it sank in. He nodded slowly, like he understood the time it was taking me to process the news of the impossible.
    My eyes drifted back to where Avery pulled a steaming mug of coffee from under the Keurig. “Say it,” I nearly growled, knowing his next words were about to rip my plans to shreds.
    “They can’t do it without us. If we want the Legacy Hotshot Crew to be reborn…”
    Fuck. My. Life.
    “We have to go home.”

2
    Avery
    H e has to what ?
    The idea of River going anywhere was enough to nauseate me. Maybe I misheard. Maybe Bishop didn’t mean it. Maybe that awestruck look on River’s face meant something completely different.
    The heat from the coffee radiated through the mug, finally burning my hand before I realized I still held it. I rounded the half-wall that separated the kitchen from the living room and handed the cup to River, who looked at me with shocked, deep brown eyes and mumbled his thanks.
    “What does he mean?” I asked River.
    His strong jaw tensed as he looked back to Bishop. With the stern set of their faces, they’d never looked more like brothers. Their Native American heritage proved dominant, giving them chiseled features, strong noses, high cheek bones, and raven black hair. But although Bishop was an inch or so taller than his little brother, River had at least thirty pounds more muscle on him. Thirty pounds of insanely cut, incredibly hot muscle.
    Whoa. No thinking about River like that.
    “What exactly do you mean?” River asked Bishop.
    Every muscle in my body clenched.
    “We’d have to move back to Colorado.” Bishop’s eyes flickered toward me, but mine were on River.
    He nodded slowly, like he was working details through his head. That was one thing about River—he never made a decision without thinking it through. “And they have to have us?” he asked.
    “They do. They’re going to be tight to hit sixty percent as is. Bash said he can’t be sure of final numbers yet.”
    “How long does he have to come up with names?”
    A year. Say a year. Nausea hit my stomach hard. I couldn’t fathom a life without River around. It was already hell when he was on fires for a few weeks at a time.
    “Two weeks.”
    Okay, now I was going to puke. I must have made some kind of sound, because River’s arm came around my shoulders, pulling me into his side where I always thought I’d be. We weren’t together or anything, but he was an integral part of what made my world turn.
    “Two weeks,” he repeated, rubbing the bare skin of my arm with his hand.
    “Council only gave him until the ceremony.”
    “Well, that’s just fucking fitting,” River growled.
    “I don’t understand,” I said quietly.
    River hit me with those impossibly