Page 96 of The Earl's Spark


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Phillip hated the feeling of fear that just continued to grow. Like the winds were just flowing under his terror and pushing it along, keeping it moving.

“Mr. Olden,” Elonne said. “My sister worked for you, kept your books. How can you know something and not tell us?”

Hatred sparked in Mr. Olden’s eyes and the next words out of his mouth were the furthest thing from polite Phillip had heard in a long time, but Elonne didn’t blink at the racial slurs hurled at him. Damon slapped his hand over the man’s mouth with a growl.

“Shut that shit down.”

Phillip hadn’t heard Damon sound so dangerous before, and that was saying a lot for a man he’d felt from the moment they’d met he would never want on his bad side.

Elonne just moved closer. “Where is my sister?”

“Dead.”

Phillip closed his eyes, unwilling to hear that. Unable to accept that.

Elonne’s growl matched his own.

Stepping closer, Phillip repeated Elonne’s question. Mr. Olden barely blinked. Damon produced a small blade and dug it into the man’s body.

“Don’t make the earl ask again.”

“You can kill me. None of it matters. If she is not dead, she will be soon. Taken by the flames. Like should have happened years ago.” The grin that filled his features could only be described as maniacal.

Merciful heaven, she was in the path of the fire. It had taken a while, but Phillip had gotten the truth out of her about the scars she tried to hide. Phillip knew how she feared the beast and how hard it was for her to breathe in some situations because of what had happened.

“Where?” One word. Low. Diamond-tipped. Phillip adjusted his hold on the hilt, waiting.

“I have no clue. I am not with her, am I?”

Phillip pulled the edge from his side and slid it deep in his throat. Blood leeched from his face while more dripped from his neck.

“Try the northeast side of the island. Your property, Earl. Cara was taking her there.” A sniff. “Something about reliving the past.” The words were garbled and most likely the last this man would ever speak, but Phillip didn’t care.

“I know where.” Elonne’s voice shook. “Where our old home used to be before that fire took it.”

She never said her old home was on the property I purchased.

Phillip, Elonne and Damon ran out the door. Phillip grabbed his horse and swung up while the other two took the first two horses they could find. All three of them headed back down the road toward Hawk’s Cove and the fire that was racing to his house.

All he knew was that Fyre was somewhere in the northeast fields, and he prayed to anyone listening that it was somewhere that the flames had yet to touch. He hadn’t known that she used to live on that property.

They split off in different directions when they hit the fields, Elonne pointing toward where their home had been and going that way himself. The winds picked up and Phillip fought his horse until it bucked him off and took off running the opposite direction. He didn’t give the beast another thought—he had more important things to worry about.

He could hear the roaring, crackling flames and the wind had him pulling up the scarf that had been tied around his neck earlier to protect him.

“Fyre!”

Despite his belief that it would be hard for her to hear him over the wind and the roar of the fire, he didn’t stop. Eyes and lungs burning, he continued moving as fast as he could.

Nothing.

“Lord Edais!”

The sound was faint but he picked it up. Wiping his eyes, he coughed and headed in what he thought and prayed was the right direction. The thought of never seeing, holding, kissing Fyre again was killing him. He fought against his need to scream his rage to the sky and pressed on. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, give up.

They had gone to where Elonne had said their old home had been, which was now nothing but fields of fuel for the hungry fire to engulf. And it was doing a stellar job. Unable to see anything more than the crop, they had split up.

Smoke even thicker, he barely made out the figure that stumbled into his view. It was Elonne, and he had Fyre over his shoulder. The man had no shirt on—it was wrapped around her head—and his pant legs were charred.

Heart in his throat, Phillip hurried to them and dropped to his knees, meeting Elonne there as the man sank down. It took mere seconds for him to understand the situation. Fyre’s brother’s body had been burned, which meant he’d gone into the flames to get Fyre out. Elonne had placed his shirt there to protect her from even more smoke, and when Phillip moved it he saw the dried blood, the large bump, and the eyes that didn’t open.

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