Nate blinked at Jared’s revelation, and then his eyes widened. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever been one-upped on that one.”

Now Jared blinked. “You’ve found others?”

“There are three other cells separate from ours that we know of. Eleven with Gail, seven with Russell, and eighteen with Max. We keep in touch. Even trade now and then.” Again, the belly laugh. “Gail’s little Ellen decided she wanted to keep company with my Evan here, and Carlos took up with Russell’s Cindy. And, of course, everyone needs Burns now and then —” He stopped talking abruptly, glancing uneasily around him, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. His eyes rested briefly on the tall redhead in the back, who was still staring at me.

“Might as well get that out of the way,” the small dark man at Nate’s elbow said.

Nate shot a suspicious glance across our little line. “Okay. Rob’s right. Let’s get this out there.” He took a deep breath. “Now, you all just take it easy and hear us out. Calmly, please. This upsets people sometimes.”

“Every time,” the one named Rob muttered. His hand drifted to the holster on his thigh.

“What?” Jared asked in a flat voice.

Nate sighed and then gestured to the tall man with the ginger red hair. The man stepped forward, a wry smile on his face. He had freckles, like me, only thousands more. They were scattered so thick across his face that he looked dark skinned, though he was fair. His eyes were dark—navy blue, maybe.

“This here is Burns. Now, he’s with us, so don’t go crazy. He’s my best friend—saved my life a hundred times. He’s one of our family, and we don’t take kindly to it when people try to kill him.”

One of the women slowly pulled her gun out and held it pointed at the ground.

The redhead spoke for the first time in a distinctly gentle tenor voice. “No, it’s okay, Nate. See? They’ve got one of their own.” He pointed straight at me, and Ian tensed. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s gone native.”

Burns grinned at me, then crossed the empty space, the no-man’s-land between the two tribes, with his hand stretched out toward me.

I stepped out from around Ian, ignoring his muttered warning, abruptly comfortable and sure.

I liked the way Burns had phrased it. Gone native.

Burns stopped in front of me, lowering his hand a bit to compensate for the considerable difference in our heights. I took his hand—it was hard and callused next to my delicate skin—and shook it.

“Burns Living Flowers,” he introduced himself.

My eyes widened at his name. Fire World—how unexpected.

“Wanderer,” I told him.

“It’s… extraordinary to meet you, Wanderer. And here I thought I was one of a kind.”