Gritting my teeth, I pull at the magic, trying to suck it back the best I can.
Frustration shoots through my veins. If I’d been allowed to practice, I’d know what to do. Now I only have instinct to guide me, and that might not be enough.
I imagine smothering the flames, dousing them completely and then cutting off their source, which in this case is me.
Male shouts filter through my concentration and my eyes pop open.
Immediately, I start choking on the smoke-fog mixture. Someone has thrown open a window and is frantically batting at the smoke.
But the fire is out. Not a single purple or magenta flame to be seen.
I’ve done it.
In the distance, a fire engine siren blares, and the relief I just felt turns to dread.
I have to leave, right now, before anyone notices me.
I run out of the room. The dance music that was pumping through the house has been turned off, and shouts of “fire” come from the ground floor below.
Partygoers are running, and sometimes stumbling, down the stairs, desperate to make it outside.
I let myself get caught up in the crowd, clinging to the banister as I descend so I don’t trip and get trampled. When I reach the first floor, I don’t wait to look for Kendra and Tate. That probably makes me a bad friend. They’re likely frantically searching for me. But the fire is out and everyone is going to be okay. In order for me to be safe, I need to get as far away from this frat house as possible, and as quickly as I can.
The jack-o’-lanterns weren’t even illuminated with real flame. People are going to wonder how they caught on fire at all, let alone with purple and magenta flames that spark.
That’s not normal. Not natural.
It’s magical, and even if the humans don’t figure out what’s going on, there are other creatures hiding in plain sight in this school who will recognize tonight’s disaster for what it is. And if they somehow figure out I’m to blame, I’ll be exposed.
I can’t be associated with this incident at all. If I am, at best my parents will force us to move—fleeing in the night without a single goodbye, like we have so many other times.
At worst, the monster we’ve been running from my entire life will finally catch me.
The lawn of the frat house is a mess. Girls are crying, some guys too. I catch a conversation here and there, and my stomach drops when I hear someone mention the color of the flames and how they came out of nowhere.
I head away from the house as fast as I can without running, trying not to draw attention. I’m two houses away when the fire engine pulls up in front of the frat. I don’t pause to watch the firemen run into the house, but instead pull my phone out to type a quick message to Tate and Kendra. They’ve already left me several concerned texts. I tell them I’m fine and that I got out of the house okay and will meet them back at their place. I need to get changed and get home before news of this incident reaches my parents.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I take off running, full speed this time, wishing it were only this easy to flee my problems—and the new ones I might have just created.
Three
BECKS
I lean back in the seat, sighing as I crack my neck. My back aches from hours spent hunched in front of a computer screen. A complete waste of my time.
I clench my fists, feeling the urge to punch the black screen. Or maybe melt it with a blast of fire. The last half dozen leads on Locklyn’s sister and parents have either gone cold or led nowhere. After the devastating trip to San Diego earlier this week, I really need a win.
Unbidden, the image of the Locklyn lookalike surfaces in my mind’s eye: her vacant stare, her guts ripped out and strewn across the room, blood painting the white walls like a grotesque work of modern art.
If we had only arrived a few minutes earlier . . .
I shake my head. Would it have really made a difference? As far as we know, this demon, even at only half strength, is almost unstoppable. If we’d gotten there in time, would our innards be decorating that dorm room as well?
Heat licks over my skin, and the smell of ash permeates the air.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I hold it in for five seconds and then exhale.
Control is something I’ve always been good at, but it feels like I’ve been on the brink of losing it more and more. Is it the stress of trying to find this girl? Is the exposure to the Locklyn and Talon show finally making me crack? Or maybe it’s something completely unrelated?
