Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Fire had rules. Rules Dani had spent years learning, respecting, and occasionally bending just enough to make it dance. Fire demanded precision. Focus. Respect. Three things most people in her life had never given her.
"Hey, firegirl!" Mike, the bar owner, called from behind the counter as Dani hauled her equipment through the back door of The Crash Zone. "You're early."
"Need to set up," she answered, dropping her duffel bag beside the small stage area. "The rig needs adjusting after last week's close call."
Mike winced. "Yeah, don't need another singed eyebrow situation. Bad for business."
"Bad for my face," Dani corrected, pulling out her tools. The ceiling rig needed reinforcing, and she wasn't about to trust anyone else to do it. Too many fire performers trusted their safety to others. Dani trusted herself, her tools, and the fire. Nothing else.
The Crash Zone was still quiet this early, hours before the Friday night UFO enthusiast crowd would descend with their tinfoil hats and wild theories.
Dani preferred it this way, just her and the muffled sounds of Mike stocking the bar, the occasional clink of bottles like a comforting metronome as she worked.
Her performance area was a circular clearing in the center of the bar, surrounded by tables set at a safe distance.
Above it hung her custom-designed rig. It was a series of reinforced anchor points that allowed her to suspend various fire props for the more impressive parts of her routine.
It wasn't fancy, but it was functional, and more importantly, it was hers.
As she climbed the stepladder to reach the ceiling mounts, Dani's mind wandered to the strange man from that morning. Solar. What kind of name was that? Probably some stage name for yet another Burning Man performer thinking they could waltz into Duskrock and claim territory.
But there had been something different about him. The way he'd studied her fire tools with genuine curiosity, not the fake interest she got from guys trying to hit on her. And those strange compliments, "your technical execution exceeded basic competency parameters." Who talked like that?
The memory made her smile despite herself.
There was something almost endearing about his awkwardness.
And he was undeniably attractive, with that golden skin that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.
Probably some kind of specialty bronzer, though she hadn't been able to spot any application lines or smudges on his clothing.
"Thinking about a guy?" Mike asked, startling her.
Dani nearly dropped her wrench. "Jesus, Mike! Don't sneak up on someone on a ladder."
"Wasn't sneaking. You were zoned out, smiling like you won the lottery."
"Just thinking about new routines," she lied, tightening the last bolt with more force than necessary. "I'm adding the double fire fans tonight."
Mike whistled. "The ones with the extended wicks? Impressive. Just don't burn my ceiling down."
"Fifteen years of performances, never burned down a venue," Dani reminded him, climbing down. "You're not going to be my first."
"Better not be. My guy told me insurance premiums are going up again after that UFO thing yesterday. Everyone's claiming property damage."
Dani had been at her stall when it happened.
There had been a bright object streaking across the sky, followed by a distant crash.
The tourists loved it, of course. UFO sightings were good for business.
She'd sold three fire staffs to excited visitors convinced aliens had arrived, and one to a guy looking to defend himself.
Him, she gave a toy model. She would not be responsible for him setting something on fire.
"Did you see it?" Mike asked, following her back to her equipment.
"The UFO? Hard to miss."
"No, the video going around. Someone at the crystal shop captured footage of three men walking away from the crash site. One of them was glowing."
Dani rolled her eyes. "Glowing? Seriously?"
"I'm telling you, it's freaky. Face was kind of blurred, but the dude had this golden shimmer thing going on."
That made Dani pause in unpacking her fire poi. Golden shimmer. Like Solar's skin in the sunlight.
"Probably just lens flare," she said, dismissing the thought. Duskrock attracted all types, and she'd long ago stopped trying to separate the genuinely strange from the attention-seeking weird.
"Maybe. But my buddy at Crimson Rock Inn says they got three new guests yesterday, no luggage, paid in cash, weird accents. And one of them keeps making the lights flicker."
"Your buddy also believes his ex was abducted by aliens when she just moved to Phoenix."
Mike laughed. "Fair point. Anyway, we're expecting a full house tonight. UFO sighting always brings out the crowds."
"Good. I need the tips." Dani pulled out her fuel bottles, carefully arranging them on her prep table. "I'm behind on rent again."
"You know, you could pick up some bartending shifts. I've offered."
"And risk these hands?" She held up her calloused but graceful fingers. "These are precision instruments, Mike. I'm not risking cuts from your cheap well tequila."
The truth was, Dani had tried normal jobs. They never stuck. Something about punching a clock and answering to people who didn't understand her made her feel like she was suffocating. Fire was freedom. When she danced with flame, she belonged to no one but herself.
She'd come to Duskrock five years ago with nothing but her fire tools and enough money for one month's rent. It wasn't the first fresh start she'd attempted, but something about this place had held her. The red rocks. The open sky. The way people here accepted the unusual as part of daily life.
It wasn't perfect. The rent was too high, the tourists could be annoying, and the locals were divided between genuine spiritual seekers and opportunistic crystal hawkers… but it was home. For now, at least.
"Earth to Dani," Mike waved a hand in front of her face. "You keep zoning out. You okay?"
"Fine," she said. "Just mentally choreographing."
"Well, choreograph while you help me move these tables. I want to expand your performance space a bit."
As they rearranged the furniture, Dani found herself wondering if Solar would actually show up tonight. Part of her hoped he would. It had been a while since anyone had piqued her curiosity. Most men either found her intimidating or fetishized her fire dancing in ways that made her skin crawl.
Solar had seemed different. There was an intensity to him that matched her own, a focus she rarely saw in others. And when he'd watched her arrange her tools, his eyes had followed her movements with something like recognition, as if he understood what it meant to channel and control energy.
"You're doing it again," Mike pointed out, snapping his fingers in front of her face.
"Doing what?"
"The smile. Definitely a guy."
"Shut up and move the table, Mike."