Firebug (16 page)

Ezra dropped his bow and ripped off his suit. Leave it to Ezra to have a high-end suit made into a tearaway. He hit the ground on four paws, scooped up the tiny bow with his mouth, and took off. I could barely track him as he dove in and out of debris, moving around the trees.

Owen was coming closer, smiling, his sidekick following in his wake. I could tell their attacks were going to get more serious. The new kid was powerful and flashy, which would please Venus and the crowd, but he wasn't very effective. A few years of intense training and he would probably light circles around Owen and me. But Owen had decades of training—he was the one to watch. He would get creative. What I really needed to do was get creative first, and I needed to shut things down fast. Jumping into a firefight after my disastrous night in Heaven wasn't the best idea. I could feel my energy flagging, and when I moved my head too fast, I got a little dizzy.

Owen raised his right hand in a fist, palm up. With a smirk, he splayed his fingers. One of the trees blew up at the base. It straight up
exploded.
I turned and dropped to the ground, trying to avoid the worst of the shrapnel. The air smelled like burnt sap. He'd used a little too much force, though. Without the base, the tree toppled, and it fell in his direction. For the first time our enemies had to scramble out of the way.

The ground trembled when the tree came down. I took a moment to glance at Lock, who was on the floor with me. I motioned to the trees. “Can you do more?” He shook his head with a grimace. I didn't know how much energy it took to grow trees out of dead wood, but it had to be a lot. Well, I couldn't stay balled up on the floor forever.

I looked around. Not much I could do in the pool, which was why Venus had put us in here. Jeering faces looked down at us from above. Someone yelled, “Play ‘Free Bird'!” and I wasn't sure if he was yelling at me or the now-silent quartet. One drunk asshole threw his drink at us—the whole drink, glass and all. It shattered at my feet. The drink thrower waggled his ward from the end of a long chain, taunting me. He reached out to grab a martini from a waiter's tray, but I set the alcohol on fire before he could touch it. He jumped back with a yelp.

The crowd laughed. So many people. A few enterprising souls were exchanging money, taking bets on the outcome. I wondered if they all had wards. Then I wondered if it mattered. I ducked, dodging another wildly thrown fireball from the new firebug. A flash of russet fur at the far end of the pool caught my eye. I didn't know what Ezra was planning exactly, but we'd worked together so long that I knew what he needed from us.

“Lock,” I hissed. “Distraction.”

Instead of answering, he took off, leaping over debris, running full tilt at the younger guy. Surprised, his target didn't move. No one ran
at
firebugs. That was just crazy. And while everyone was watching the crazy guy, I got to work.

The debris was getting in our way—I had to turn it into an asset. The tables had been made of wood and the linens were, well, linen. I set patches of them ablaze, the treated wood giving off toxic-smelling smoke, the flames lighting up the floor of the pool around Owen and the new firebug. Lock tussled with the newbie. Owen was trying to turn my sea of fire against me, not paying attention to his sidekick. That's the funny thing about fire—it's so hardwired into us as threat that we concentrate on it and ignore other dangers. So Lock was able to pick up the new kid and toss him well away from Owen, who was intent on my flames.

The young firebug got up slowly, clearly injured. His eyes were on Lock. He seemed to have forgotten that there were three of us. And that was his downfall. Ezra stepped out from behind a tree, naked as a jaybird, his crossbow a flash in the light. He unloaded it with three quick taps, the sound so quiet, I might have been imagining it. The kid just stared at the bolts sprouting in a cluster around his heart. Then he fell to his knees.

They'd been prepared for fire. Everyone had been so worried about me, so used to the firebug being the big gun, that they'd discounted my backup. But I worked with Lock and Ezra all the time. I knew better.

The kid screamed. And then he totally lost control. Things in the room started to burst into flames. That fancy red curtain. Venus's table. I knew what was coming next—I could feel it.

“Lock! Ezra!” I shouted. “Hit the deck!” I threw myself down, heedless of the broken glass and nails, my jacket pulled over my head. I heard chunks of the wall start to explode as if someone had laced the pool with tiny detonators. The walls were getting hit with such intensity that they were becoming unstable and collapsing. As soon as I could I got up, my jacket still draped over my head, and ran for Lock. Ezra was a red blur through the rubble, his tiny fox form darting here and there. We had to get out before the new guy went completely supernova. The crowd panicked above us.

The onlookers may have been warded, but wards don't protect your mind. Fear of fire is instinctual. It takes a lot of willpower to repress that response. Unless you've had intense training, like firefighters, the urge to bolt always prevails. Suddenly the jeering crowd was standing in a flaming box and everyone reacted like I thought they would—they panicked and flew for the exits. All at once. If someone got in their way, well, that was what a right hook was made for. Clearly Venus had thought she didn't need to safeguard the drapes. She was used to people in control of their powers—Venus knows I'm careful not to risk unnecessary injury, and Owen wasn't stupid enough to set fire to the room—unlike the kid she'd thrown at me. She'd made a mistake, and if she'd had more experience with firebugs other than just my family and Owen, she would have known better. She'd have realized too much can go wrong in a situation like this, too many people can get hurt. But Venus always thinks she knows best.

Right now, Venus was shouting and trying to maintain order. She'd get it too. Eventually. Already, a few level heads were breaking out fire extinguishers. The sprinklers came on, adding to the chaos. That was fine with me—I didn't actually want the building to burn down, at least not while I was in it. Besides, there were a lot of people upstairs whose only crime was wanting a fun night. My main goal had been a chance to get out of there. So I encouraged the dying firebug's flame, keeping it controlled but burning. I shouted to Lock as I got closer. At my shout, he tossed part of a smoldering chair at Owen. Then he started running like I was.

We climbed the ladder quickly, a naked Ezra trailing behind. I paused halfway to blow up the rest of the trees, creating more confusion.

Once at the top, the three of us tried to go in different directions. Lock grabbed on to Ezra and me. “Don't just bolt like spooked cattle. Think. Best way to get out of here?”

“What about the way we came?” I shouted over the din. The sprinklers were doing their job, but I was fighting them. Keeping fires going, starting new ones, trying to maximize the pandemonium. I wouldn't be able to keep it up forever. When I moved my head, the emergency lights left a trail and things blurred. My mouth was dry and I was getting a major headache. It had taken a lot out of me to blow up trees. Good to know.

Lock shook his head. “Elevators automatically stop working during a fire alarm.”

“Back hallway,” Ezra said, pointing to the other side of the room. “There are stairs.”

“We go for the stairs.” Lock let go of Ezra but shifted his grip on me, sliding his hand down my arm until he had a hold of my hand, pulling me close. Lock took point while Ez went behind me, putting one hand on my shoulder to keep from getting separated.

“Venus is going to lock down the building, if she hasn't already.” Lock swerved around a table that was miraculously still standing. “We've got to get while the getting is still possible.”

“Any chance Ryan and his friends are still here? Maybe they didn't leave-leave but came down here instead?”

“If that's the case, I'm especially not going to take the risk of seeking them out,” Lock said, dragging me through the crowd.

“Comeuppance,” Ezra said, shaking off the water from the sprinklers.

“Guys, they're in totally over their heads, and they don't even know—”

Lock cut me off. “Look, I understand you don't want to believe that Ryan had anything to do with tonight's misery, but if we stay, we're not going to get anyone out of here. We'll just be stuck under Venus's very unhappy boot. If we escape, we have possibilities. If we stay?” He shook his head.

I didn't like it, but he was right. Still, the idea of leaving Ryan behind …

“I'll carry you out of here if I have to. Toss you over my shoulder and run.” Lock's features were stern, the water from the sprinklers running down his face, flattening his bleached hair against his skull. It would have been comical if we weren't in danger. Okay, it was still comical.

I nodded at him in defeat because I didn't relish being carried out of there like a sack of flour, and I knew Lock would do just that. He hauled me toward one of the exits, Ezra behind us like a naked caboose.

The various doorways were packed with people stampeding their way out. It wasn't going to be easy. Lock leaned his head back so I could hear him shout, “I think you're going to need to intervene.”

It's hard to aim accurately while you're running, and the crowd was making me slow down anyway, so I stopped in my tracks, yanking Lock back. I concentrated, making two throwing gestures with my hand. Strictly speaking, the gestures weren't necessary, but they helped with focus and aim. Two large fireballs shot out—one enveloped the door we were headed for, which exploded noisily, leaving a gaping hole. The other one did something similar to the opposite wall, creating a door where there wasn't one before. I didn't want it to be immediately obvious which way I was going. This way, either Venus would have to pick between the two or divide her forces. It might buy us a little time. Sometimes a few more minutes could make the difference between survival and ruin.

Lock grabbed my hand again. “This building is going to have serious structural issues when we're done.” Ezra gave a yip, pushing us along, obviously anxious to get out of there.

After the explosions, people either jumped out of the way and hit the ground or they ran back in the other direction. The path was now clear enough that we were able to push our way through and into the outer hallway.

Lock, his hand still firmly gripping mine, led me down a series of corridors. I was already lost.

“Is there an exit this way?” I asked, gasping for breath. Between the sprinting, the adrenaline, and all the fires, I was feeling shaky, my headache now a raging monster. My mouth was so dry, I was this close to licking Ezra just to get some moisture. But I didn't, because I knew where he'd been.

“You think Venus would spend her time somewhere that didn't have escape routes?” Ezra asked.

Of course she wouldn't. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have realized that, but my brain was feeling foggy. I was keeping the flames in the ballroom going as long as I could, which was hard without being in there. Soon I would be far enough removed that the connection would break on its own. In the meantime I had to try to maintain it.

Lock pulled me through a door that led to some stairs. He headed up, and as I tried to follow, missing a few steps as I did, I suddenly wondered why no one was on our tail.

“We need to stop by the locker room,” Ezra said, examining the hall behind us. “Eventually, we'll have to go outside, and people will be stunned by my amazing physique. We don't need that attention.”

“Yeah, but the attention won't be because there's a naked man running around Boston, freezing his—”

Lock cut me off. “That's a good idea. We also need your car keys. I bet my car is being watched, so yours is the better bet.”

Ezra didn't trust the open lot by the Inferno, so he always parked a block away at a garage with an attendant. Nothing was too good for his “baby.” Since Lock usually drove us around, I'm not sure anyone at the Inferno would remember that Ez even had a car.

We headed for the employee area. With the kind of costume changes Venus required, people had to have somewhere to put their regular clothing and swap out their wards if they were for physical glamour. Can you imagine the staff from Heaven trying to ride the bus to work in their uniforms?

We ran, following corridors, going through doors, down passageways, up stairs. I quickly lost all track again of what was going on. We needed to get to a safe place soon, somewhere I could rest. I wasn't holding up too well.

We dashed into the locker room. It was the men's, but Lock didn't want to separate just for convention's sake. Ezra popped open his locker and grabbed a set of clothes. Inside was a brief window into my vain friend. A bottle of mouthwash, a hairbrush, a mirror, what appeared to be a Ping-Pong paddle, and a mango resting on a rather battered copy of
Little Women.

“Huh,” I said, reaching for the book. “I didn't know you could read, Ezra.”

“He mostly looks at the pictures,” Lock said absently as he pawed through Ezra's jacket, looking for the keys.

“Oh. My copy wasn't illustrated.”

“It was a joke, cupcake.” Suddenly Lock pulled me between him and the lockers, his body pressing into mine as he leaned in so close, I could smell the leather of his jacket. I just stood there, paralyzed.

I heard a voice off to the side, someone past the door of the locker room and out of my line of vision. “Hey, she can't be in here.”

Lock gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but it's my girl, you know? Hates to be left alone.” He shrugged his shoulders in a “silly girls, but what you gonna do?” kind of way before reaching over my head and pulling Ezra's keys out of the locker. “Ready to go, sweetheart?” I nodded, and he waved a good-bye to the interloper. Ezra grabbed his jacket from the locker and slipped it on. I don't know anyone who can dress faster than Ezra. Lock guided me to his side as he slipped an arm around me protectively. With his free arm, he shut the locker door before whisking me out of the locker room.