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“Leave her alone.”
Layne was choking on her breath, on her heartbeat, fear warring with relief. Gabriel was here, looking as fierce as ever. He’d protect her.
She just didn’t want him to do it at his own expense.
She moved close to him, letting her hand close over his forearm like she had in class. “Don’t fight,” she said. “Let him say what he wants. It’s not worth it ”
Gabriel glanced down at her hand, as if surprised to find it there. “I won’t fight him.” Then he made a face. “What is that smell?”
“Don’t you know?” said Ryan. “I mean, they’re going to find a bottle of it in your locker.”
The forearm under her hand turned to steel, but Gabriel was absolutely still. “What are you talking about?”
Layne realized what Ryan had said. “You knew about the fire at the farm. You knew I was there.”
“Of course I did. You told me where to find you.” His eyes flicked to Gabriel. “Of course, I didn’t realize you were riding more than just horses.”
“Shut up!” she snapped, feeling tears grab at her throat.
“It was supposed to be a hay bale. I was just screwing with you,” said Ryan. “I didn’t realize the whole place would go up like that. When the cops found me in the woods, I had to say I was out running and saw who started it.” A wicked smile at Gabriel. “Too bad for you it happened in the middle of an arson spree.”
“You?” gasped Layne. “You . . . but Gabriel didn’t ”
“Really, I hadn’t planned on either of you being here, but it’s kind of poetic justice.” Ryan pulled a lighter out of his pocket.
Gabriel started forward. “It’s you. You’re the one starting the fires.”
“Nope. You are.” Ryan flicked the igniter.
And tossed it.
Layne didn’t see where it went. She was just aware of the blast of heat, the roar of flames, and the feeling of her shoulders hitting the brick wall of the library. Gabriel’s body trapped her there.
She couldn’t see anything but fire and smoke and the side of Gabriel’s face, all but pressed against hers.
“Lighter fluid,” he said. “He sprayed the whole area with lighter fluid.”
And the books were providing plenty of fuel. Layne coughed, her lungs trying to find oxygen through the smoke.
He pulled her down, against the ground, and suddenly it was easier to breathe.
“We have to move,” he said.
She nodded. “But can’t you” she coughed “can’t you do something?”
He pulled her along the wall, to the corner, then swore. All the stacks in this back part of the library were blazing. The school’s fire alarms were blaring now; one was right overhead.
He yelled over it. “I’m going to try to get us out of here.”
“No the fire. Like at the farm.” Another cough. “In those houses. You can do something to stop it, can’t you?”
“Not if you want to keep breathing.”
She coughed again, and he pushed her closer to the floor.
“What? I don’t ”
“Wrong twin.” His voice was grim. “I’m not Gabriel. I’m Nick.”
