felt raw, parched, as if she’d scalded it. Even her lungs burned.
She groaned and rolled onto her back. Moisture ran past her ear, tickling her scalp. She swatted at it and her fingers came away damp. It was a sticky dampness, like blood.
Why was she bleeding? Had someone hit her over the head? Maybe the budgie had been armed with a big brown club. The image made her smile, but only for a second. Smoke swirled, thicker than before, catching in her throat.
Urgency began to beat through her, but it was distant, muted, as if fighting its way through a veil.
She opened her eyes. The budgies flew above her, their movements frantic, panicked. High-pitched cries of terror itched at her ears as they desperately sought an exit. One that the shapechanger must have blocked after her departure, because there was no trace left of a changer in the room.
Frowning, Sam turned her head. Across the room fire roared, gold and red. It not only reached bloody fingers toward the ceiling, but was spreading swiftly toward the desk and the fat man. A fat man whose shoes had started burning.
“Please,” Max said, his voice a mix of hysteria and urgency. “Help me.”
The flames were beginning to reach his trousers. His legs jumped and twitched, as if in time to the silent music of the fire.
“Officer Ryan! Get up! Help me! Please!”
The desperation in his voice bit through the fog enveloping her mind. She groaned and rolled onto her hands and knees. Her stomach heaved, jumping into her throat, and sweat beaded her forehead. Heat flashed across her skin, followed quickly by an icy chill.
Swallowing heavily, she inched forward. The flames raced up Max’s trousers.
Too fast,
some dim part of her mind protested. Max wore only natural fibers—wool usually. Only some form of accelerant would make his clothes burn so quickly. She sniffed the air and caught a trace of gas.
She swore and reached the wall, inching herself upward. It was like moving through glue, as if her mind and her limbs were on separate planes. Snagging the fire extinguisher from the wall, she pulled out the safety catch, then pressed the lever and turned. Foam gushed from the nozzle—a blue-white cloud that arced across the room like cannon-blasted snow.
Max screamed when it hit him—or maybe he’d always been screaming and it just hadn’t registered until now. The flames hissed as they died, and the smoke in the room became thicker. She coughed, her vision blurring with the tears streaming down her face. When she could no longer see the flames eating Max, she turned the extinguisher on the rest of the fire.
The door behind her flew open. Men dressed in black and gold ran in, hauling silver snakes that reared up and spewed water at the flames. Her vision wavered. She dropped the extinguisher and reached out for the wall. It danced away, laughing.
Then the floor rushed up to greet her.
—
Outside the darkened ambulance in which Sam sat, someone slammed a car door. The noise vibrated right through her, then reached into her brain and squeezed tight. She groaned and held her head in her hands. Any minute now, it was going to explode. A head could take only so much pain, and hers had surely reached saturation point.
She wouldn’t mind so much if it were only her head, but her whole damn body ached just as fiercely, and her stomach felt about as steady as an umbrella in a windstorm. If she moved, she’d puke—no doubt about it.
Footsteps approached the ambulance. They rebounded through her brain like a freight train. Then the rear door opened and light flooded in.
She hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Shut the door, damn you.”
The door closed softly. She took a deep breath, waiting for the pain behind her eyes to subside a little. The ambulance creaked as someone sat on the seat opposite. The earthy scent of exotic spices, mixed with the warm freshness of the sun and the wind, washed over her.
Gabriel
, she thought, and bit back another groan. That was
She groaned and rolled onto her back. Moisture ran past her ear, tickling her scalp. She swatted at it and her fingers came away damp. It was a sticky dampness, like blood.
Why was she bleeding? Had someone hit her over the head? Maybe the budgie had been armed with a big brown club. The image made her smile, but only for a second. Smoke swirled, thicker than before, catching in her throat.
Urgency began to beat through her, but it was distant, muted, as if fighting its way through a veil.
She opened her eyes. The budgies flew above her, their movements frantic, panicked. High-pitched cries of terror itched at her ears as they desperately sought an exit. One that the shapechanger must have blocked after her departure, because there was no trace left of a changer in the room.
Frowning, Sam turned her head. Across the room fire roared, gold and red. It not only reached bloody fingers toward the ceiling, but was spreading swiftly toward the desk and the fat man. A fat man whose shoes had started burning.
“Please,” Max said, his voice a mix of hysteria and urgency. “Help me.”
The flames were beginning to reach his trousers. His legs jumped and twitched, as if in time to the silent music of the fire.
“Officer Ryan! Get up! Help me! Please!”
The desperation in his voice bit through the fog enveloping her mind. She groaned and rolled onto her hands and knees. Her stomach heaved, jumping into her throat, and sweat beaded her forehead. Heat flashed across her skin, followed quickly by an icy chill.
Swallowing heavily, she inched forward. The flames raced up Max’s trousers.
Too fast,
some dim part of her mind protested. Max wore only natural fibers—wool usually. Only some form of accelerant would make his clothes burn so quickly. She sniffed the air and caught a trace of gas.
She swore and reached the wall, inching herself upward. It was like moving through glue, as if her mind and her limbs were on separate planes. Snagging the fire extinguisher from the wall, she pulled out the safety catch, then pressed the lever and turned. Foam gushed from the nozzle—a blue-white cloud that arced across the room like cannon-blasted snow.
Max screamed when it hit him—or maybe he’d always been screaming and it just hadn’t registered until now. The flames hissed as they died, and the smoke in the room became thicker. She coughed, her vision blurring with the tears streaming down her face. When she could no longer see the flames eating Max, she turned the extinguisher on the rest of the fire.
The door behind her flew open. Men dressed in black and gold ran in, hauling silver snakes that reared up and spewed water at the flames. Her vision wavered. She dropped the extinguisher and reached out for the wall. It danced away, laughing.
Then the floor rushed up to greet her.
—
Outside the darkened ambulance in which Sam sat, someone slammed a car door. The noise vibrated right through her, then reached into her brain and squeezed tight. She groaned and held her head in her hands. Any minute now, it was going to explode. A head could take only so much pain, and hers had surely reached saturation point.
She wouldn’t mind so much if it were only her head, but her whole damn body ached just as fiercely, and her stomach felt about as steady as an umbrella in a windstorm. If she moved, she’d puke—no doubt about it.
Footsteps approached the ambulance. They rebounded through her brain like a freight train. Then the rear door opened and light flooded in.
She hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Shut the door, damn you.”
The door closed softly. She took a deep breath, waiting for the pain behind her eyes to subside a little. The ambulance creaked as someone sat on the seat opposite. The earthy scent of exotic spices, mixed with the warm freshness of the sun and the wind, washed over her.
Gabriel
, she thought, and bit back another groan. That was
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