“Mama!” She didn’t have time to enter the darn box before her mama rushed out of it.
“What is it?” Mama screamed. Bright orange flames roared from the other side.
“Quick.” The brute came out of the box, shoving a tall blond man in an elegant suit.
The shout ‘fire’ echoed from every corner of the theatre. The roar of the blaze was unmistakable now. A stream of people shoving each other clogged the corridor. Angeline groaned when someone’s elbow hit her ribs and someone else’s foot caused her to trip.
“Order! Form a proper queue!” a theatre host yelled, waving his arms.
No one paid him the slightest bit of attention. Smoke saturated the air, and people pressed against Angeline from every side. She was shoved right and left, back and forth, almost losing her footing. Breathing was a chore. Her lungs hurt because, every time she inhaled, it was like gulping acid. Her head spun with the smoke and the chaos.
There was a loud crack coming from the ceiling before a flaming log dropped in a flare of red sparks. People screamed. The log thudded against the stairs, shedding flames in its wake. She gasped when the people in the middle of the stairs disappeared underneath the blaze, the smoke, and the log.
A searing pain slashed her arm as a burning piece of a log fell on her. The silk glove caught fire. She screamed and swatted the flames, tears blurring her vision. She didn’t have time to assess the damage as another piece of the ceiling fell behind the smoke.
Panic ensued. Some people pushed her to go down, others to go up. She didn’t know where the exit was. Her head hurt, her arm throbbed, and her eyes watered.
“Mama?” She searched around. Mama, the brute, and the earl were nowhere to be seen. She had no idea where or when she’d lost them. “Mama?”
She struggled to walk against the flow of the crowd. Shoves and jabs hit her, and the pain nearly caused her to pass out. She panted, then coughed from the smoke The air turned scorching, and the frightening noise of the fire crackling and eating the walls froze her. The people seemed to be frozen as well because everyone was moving and shoving others out of the way, but no one seemed to be going anywhere. The ceiling tilted. A buzzing noise rang in her ears.
“Miss!” The brute’s blackened face swept into view. “What are you doing here?” He hauled her up before she could say anything.
This time, she didn’t protest. Her head hurt, and the air was too heavy to breathe properly, never mind talking. She wrapped her good arm around the brute’s neck and clung to him as he shoved people aside none-too-gently, making his way against the flow.
“Don’t worry, miss,” he said among pants. “Your mother is safe outside.”
“How did you find me?” she said among coughs.
“I told you I knew this place better than you.”
She took a deep breath to thank him, but another coughing fit cut her off. Smoke stung her eyes, and the sizzling noise of the fire scared her to death. She gripped him with all her strength, feeling his hard muscles under her arm. Tears welled in her eyes because of the irritation and the pain.
She and the man reached a part of the theatre less crowded although she couldn’t tell where they were. The air was cleaner, but she kept coughing.
“Almost there.” He rushed down a dark corridor before barging through a set of double doors. “Here we are.” He put herdown gently on something hard and cold. His face wrinkled in concern filled her vision. “You’re hurt.” He sounded desolate.
“A burned—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Don’t talk. Take deep breaths and spit the ash if you need to.”
“Angeline.” Mama came from somewhere and hugged her, smelling of smoke and burned silk. “Darling. You disappeared. I was so scared.”
“My arm,” she stammered.
Mama’s eyes flared wide as she cradled Angeline’s arm gently. “Do not worry. We’ll take care of it.” She started sobbing. “It’ll be all right.”
The earl sat next to her, coughing so hard he shook. Ash blackened his face. The tips of his coattails were burned, and thick tears streamed down his face.
“I’ll be right back.” The brute… well, she couldn’t call him that now, not anymore. The man rushed back into the inferno.
“Royston, don’t!” The earl bent over, coughing. “It’s an order.”
But Royston didn’t listen.
From the outside, the theatre was even scarier. Angeline gazed at the building. What once had been the sparkling white walls of the Theatre Royal were spitting fire from every window. The orange glow seemingly coming from every corner created a halo against the backdrop of the night sky. It was an inferno, and Royston had jumped straight into it.
“What is he doing?” Angeline’s throat burned with the effort of talking.
