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A huge, flaming pentagram.
CHAPTER 41
Gabriel was still staring when Hunter appeared at his side.
He looked surprised to see Layne and Nick but then more surprised at the pentagram on the floor.
Not to mention the kid lying inside it.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” said Gabriel.
“No. Not yet.”
Gabriel glanced at him. “You didn’t shoot the firefighters, did you?”
Hunter gave him a look. “No, but we don’t have much time.
They’ll be blasting through here with hoses any minute.”
“Too bad we can’t just shoot him,” said Nick.
“Why can’t we?” said Gabriel. He walked forward, into the circle, scattering flames with every step. He kicked at Ryan’s leg, but the other boy remained motionless. Layne shifted in his arms again, reminding him that he couldn’t linger here. “This idiot can’t be an Elemental I’ve fought with the guy three times, and he’s never called on anything.”
“Then why’s he lying in the middle of a pentagram?” said Hunter.
“And there’s power here,” said Gabriel. “If he wasn’t feeding rage into the fire, then someone was.” He paused, reading the flames around him. He felt eagerness. Expectation. “Someone still is.”
Hunter had the gun in his hand again.
“Are you always armed?” said Gabriel.
“Since we started worrying about Guides, yeah.”
Gabriel thought of all those fires, the focused fury that had made him wonder if he hid in the night with some other guy who shared his affinity for fire. Each fire had been a celebration of sorts. Nothing had been subtle.
Like the pentagram, those fires were a message.
He just couldn’t figure it out.
And there wasn’t time to stand here puzzling it through.
“Can you two drag him out of here?”
“No!”
A female voice. They all turned.
Calla Dean stepped out from behind a flaming bookcase, easily as comfortable in the middle of all this fire as Gabriel was.
“Leave him.”
Hunter lowered the gun. His voice was full of shock. “Calla.”
“You look surprised,” she said.
“He’s not the only one,” said Gabriel.
She reached down and plucked a plume of fire from the carpet, letting it hover in her palm, feeding it power until it started to spiral off her hand. “You’ve been messing with all my pretty fires.”
