Page 47 of Surge of Fire

Should I run and see if there’s a back way out of the gas station? Or should I stay put?I have no idea, but I feel like I should be doing something.

Suddenly, the door to the freezer flies open. Evander is there, blood running from a cut on his cheek, bruises blossoming on his face, looking pissed as hell. “Outside. Now.”

I stuff my phone in my back pocket and shake my head, hands curling into fists. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He smirks. “You know there is only one way this is going to end.”

“Do I?” I ask, and I’m proud that my voice isn’t shaking.

He lunges at me. I leap back, hit something made of glass, and it shatters. Trying to slip further away from him, I slip on the broken glass and fall.

Fuck!

He’s over me in an instant. We wrestle on the ground before he hauls me to my feet by my wrists. “Stop this shit! I’m not the enemy! That dragon is! You’re going to kill yourself trying to get away from me!”

A cold feeling slips along my spine that has nothing to do with the freezer, and I stop fighting him. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

His grip loosens on my wrists, and he glances down, his face softening. “You cut yourself on the glass.”

I don’t look, because I don’t care. It’s not the cut I’m worried about. “Are we going in the car now?”

He nods. “We’re going to call my bosses and come up with a rendezvous point, and they’re going to get us out of here safely. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Sorry. This has all just been a lot.”

He lets go of me completely, running a hand through his hair. “I understand. Let’s just work together from here on out.”

I head for the door, making sure to go slow. To limp a little. To play the part.

He’s walking beside me, and I make sure to stay on his right side. I open the door with my left hand, and with my other, I snatch his gun from the holster firmly attached to the left side of his belt, then I bring both hands up and slam him in the chest as hard as I can, sending him reeling backwards. He slips on the floor, his eyes wide, and falls back into the glass. I slam the door on his shocked face, and snag a broom from beside the door, wedging it through the handle and the wall, trapping him inside.

A minute later, I hear him slam against the door, but it doesn’t budge. Dropping the gun on the ground, hands shaking, goosebumps running across my skin, I take a slow breath.I need to get out of here. I need to move quickly.

Heart in my throat, I race back to the front of the store and see chaos everywhere, but all the people seem okay, except for the store owner, who seems to be nursing a head injury. “He’s in the freezer!”

They hurry into action, using everything they can find to wedge the freezer doors closed on the outside. Evander seems to figure it out a minute too late. He’s tossing the ice cream off the shelves and slamming his hands against the glass, looking infuriated as our eyes lock.

He’s got two to three hours in there before he dies.

“I need to go,” I tell them. “But I don’t want him to die. Can you give me a little time and then let him out?”

They’re all quiet. I look at a sea of frightened faces.

“Please. He’s not a good person, but I don’t want him to die.”

The older man nods from where he’s sitting. “We’ll give you forty minutes. Enough time to slow him down and make him a bit less feisty.”

“Thanks.” Then I eye him as he rubs his head. “For everything.”

I head for the door and wince when I take a step. Glancing at the back of my leg, I see a giant piece of glass sticking out. Blood stains the fabric all around it, and it continues all down the back of my jeans.

Gritting my teeth, I grab the shard of glass and pull it out slowly. My head spins and I have to clench my teeth to keep from crying out.Damn it. That’s a lot of blood.

And behind me? I’ve been tracking blood with every step I took.Fuck.

Rolling up my pant leg carefully, I see a nasty-looking cut that doesn’t seem to be healing like my last injury.Maybe because I hadn’t shifted?I don’t know. But I know I can’t leave this openly bleeding much longer. It’s definitely deep enough for stitches, and the last thing I need is to pass out somewhere on the drive down the mountain.

“Let me help you,” one of the older women says.

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