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Daisy couldn’t move. Her lungs wouldn’t work. Her brain stopped. It was stuck in a loop. Fire that had almost killed her as a child. It was happening again. Trapped.
Axel went into business mode. He yanked Daisy’s hand hard. The despair winked out with his contact, and she snapped out of her daze.
“But we have to save them,” she blurted as she stumbled after him out the front door.
“I’ll get them. Wait here. Call your family.”
He deposited her on the grass and turned back to the house, searching up and down until they both saw it at once. The tiny attic window. A face peering out of the gloom.
“Max,” Daisy breathed, shocked. “They’re here. The mates. I can sense multiple types of despair. It must be all of them.”
“I need a ladder,” Axel said and started jogging around the house.
“Garage,” she suggested. “There used to be gardening tools in the garage.”
The fire was still contained at the house, so when they arrived at the garage, and broke in, it was safe to enter.
“How can I help?” Daisy followed him. “What if I break the attic window while you get the ladder?”
“No. The fire is spreading fast. I need to vent it first.” He searched the dim room covered in disused garden supplies and boxes. “Go call your family.”
“But…” She had to do something.
Her family wouldn’t get here on time. She wanted to run in and help them… but she couldn’t move. Her feet were glued to the floor.
“Daisy,” Axel barked. “Get safe and let me do my job.”
She blinked. “You’re a firefighter.”
“I got this.” He clapped her on the shoulder and then jogged out of the garage with a ladder under one arm and a crowbar in the other, tossing over his shoulder, “Get me the garden hose.”
She jolted into action, went straight to where she remembered the outside faucet to be, but discovered no hose. Damn it. She turned the faucet on, anyway and willed herself to move the water with her mind. All she could manage was spluttering and spraying.
Stupid idea, anyway. God, she was stupid. Useless.
She ran back to the front yard and, with her blood slowly freezing in her veins, she watched her mate set up the ladder and climb onto the roof. He shouted through the window not to break the glass until he’d vented the room to avoid a backdraft.
The flames were growing, getting thicker and hotter and louder. Daisy’s vision started closing in as she pulled out her cell phone and struggled to breathe. With shaky hands and blinking to see straight, she dialed Parker.
He answered in two rings.
“Daisy.” His deep voice was a welcome baritone warming the ice in her veins.
“Pigeon…” she choked.
“What is it?” His tone sharpened. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”
“I’m… I’m okay. It’s the house… They’re here. They’re here.”
A pause. “The mates?”
“Yes,” she gasped, pacing. “The house is on fire. Axel is trying to get to them in the attic, but… I don’t know. The flames are spreading. There was a gas leak… I don’t know!”
“Sit tight. We’re on our way.”
He cut the call and she collapsed into a crouch, steadying her woozy self with fingers on the crisp grass. A loud crash drew her attention back to the house, now billowing with black smoke.
Axel was sliding from the roof top, angling his feet for the ladder. Did it work? Did he find a way to vent?
