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But then he realized the fire along the walls had died down.
The flames had calmed, except those near his feet.
He reached down and scooped up a palm full of fire, feeding it energy until it burned like a torch without a base. The fire liked this, tasting his energy, rolling like a cat in the sunshine.
The thought of the dead cat turned his stomach, and he forced the image out of his mind.
“Someone else is here,” he said. “Show me where.”
You. You play.
Gabriel closed his fist, killing the flame in his palm. “If I play your game, you play mine.”
The fire hesitated, and Gabriel worried he’d lose what little control he’d gained.
But then a streak of flame started off across what must have been carpeting, reminding him of those old Looney Tunes cartoons when he was a kid. The kind where there’d be a stick of dy***ite with a really long wick, so the flame could race along until boom.
He probably shouldn’t think about explosions.
The fire led him toward that destroyed staircase, and he swallowed. If there were people upstairs, he had no idea how he’d get to them.
But the fire veered left, into a room that had been a kitchen.
A little kitchen, too. The walls weren’t as badly burned, but the linoleum was warped and cracked from the heat.
Play.
“I’m not playing,” he snapped, feeding his anger to the fire.
“Where are they?”
Here. Here. Here. Play!
Jesus, he was having an argument with fire. Maybe should have kept the oxygen tanks.
The line of flame ran straight up the center of the kitchen. No one was here. The sink, the oven, the dishwasher yeah, that was a hell of a lot of help. A pantry door hung open; smoke billowed out. Unidentifiable boxes of food were on fire.
o;Thanks for taking on so much.”
She nodded.
He stood and moved toward the doorway. She slid back under the covers.
But then he stopped before closing the door. “Layne?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t bring him over here when I’m not home.”
Like there was much chance of that. But still. Anger made her sit straight up again. “You don’t trust me?”
He laughed like she’d said something truly funny. “Oh, Layne, I trust you plenty. Good night, sweetheart.”
Then he shut the door.
And all she could think about was Gabriel Merrick.
About how much she wanted to hit him. Really hard. Right where it would count.
