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Fuck.
Someone found out that I’m in Valencia, it seems.
I stand still, my heart hammering in my chest, thinking through the possible exits.
The main stairway descends right into the path of the intruder or intruders. Normally I would love using the stairs as cover while I shoot down at the trespasser.
But if I have Persephone with me, that way would be too dangerous. There are too many factors that I can’t control.
Damn. Maybe we can go out the window in my room and jump into the big oak tree in the yard. I don’t love being rushed into any plans but time is of the essence in this case.
I spin towards Persephone's room, keeping my footsteps light. An acrid smell reaches my nose and slows my steps.
It takes a second for me to register the smell as something burning.
Fuck!
I hurry to open Persephone's door, moving stealthily as possible. There is a loud thump downstairs, and the acrid scent of smoke fills the air.
Persephone is already sitting up in her bed, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her red lips standing out from her suddenly pale face. As I enter her room she swallows and pushes the comforter off her body.
“What’s going on?”
Her voice is high and tight, tension practically coming off her in waves. She’s wearing a large bulky sweater and nothing else; for a second, there is war within me for my attention, because I am fairly sure I can make out the shape of her nipples through her sweater.
I lick my lips, forcing my mind back to the moment at hand.
“Hades!” she says, a wild look in her eyes.
I raise my finger to my lips. “Shhh.” I beckon for her to move closer. As she scrambles to the edge of the bed, I lean down and whisper close to her ear. “Someone is in the house. The air smells like they have started a fire.”
Persephone's lips part. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my god.”
I hear a stair squeak. “Shit. They are coming. We have to move.”
I head to her window, pushing the curtain aside to peer out. The tree is a little farther from here but there is a thin ledge that runs along the rooftop. The far edge of the rooftop practically dead ends into the twisted, gnarled branches of the oak.
Heaving the window sash up, I jerk my head toward the warm night air. Persephone has pulled on a pair of ballet flats and looks around.
“Let me just find my iPad,” she says.
My eyes narrow into slits. “Fuck the iPad. We have to go.”
She licks her lips and nods almost absently. I move toward her with a growl, and she fixes me with a wide-eyed look.
“I’m coming,” she says, raising her hands. She sidesteps in order to avoid me, scuttling toward the door.
Trying to avoid being touched, I suppose. But I don’t care what she wants at all. As soon as she approaches the window, I grab her by the arms and hoist her outside.
She makes a soft sound of complaint, but I ignore it. Instead, I’m listening intently for footsteps outside in the corridor while I jam my big body through the window. I take a breath and lower the window sash before I turn to size up the situation.
We are standing on a very narrow ledge. Beyond the little strip of roof is the darkened yard. Other than the tree at the far end of the roof, I can’t make out a damned thing.
“Go,” I grate out, jerking my head toward the tree. “Be quick.”
She gives me a dazed glance and then starts cautiously making her way down the long edge. Listening intently, I realize that there is someone clunking around upstairs.
It won’t take them very long to realize that we’re not in bed. And if it were me searching for someone, my next logical guess would be to look out the window.
