Page 31 of Crown of Tides and Fury

The tunnel of fire waited for me, daring me. I laughed and tucked my ponytail into my jacket. Then I retreated a few steps and ran like a madwoman up the table’s surface to the uneaten steps, through the ring of flames, and slammed into the door at the far side of the landing. I reached for the handle, turned it, and willed the fire to stay back as I searched for survivor number five. A girl stood in the bathtub, coughing into the neck of her nightgown. Smoke whooshed past me and mushroomed out the window over her head like it was escaping from a chimney.

The fire hissed and murmured at my back, but my jacket protected me from the worst of the heat. I pulled a large robe off a hook, turned on the tub to wet it briefly, then wrapped it around the girl, careful to cover her lovely hair. Then I bent and pulled her over my shoulder. She was too tall to carry any other way.

The flames edged their way into the bathroom, across the ceiling, around the doorway, onto the floor. That strange laughter bubbled up from my chest again, but I swallowed it down to keep from scaring the child.

As if reacting to my silent laughter, the flames shrank back. I quickly realized, however, it was reacting not to me, but to a cool wind now pouring in through the window over the tub. The storm had finally arrived.

Wickham stood at the base of the stairs, his face half-covered by his bandana, the heat whipping his hair. If he popped up to get me, the floor might give way.

I shook my head. “I got this!” Two giant steps took me through the tunnel of heat and light. I hurried down two stairs, then jumped onto the coffee table, sideways. My feet slid down the surface and I landed on the floor just as Wickham stepped out of the way. A moment later, we were outside, pulling cool air into our lungs and unwrapping our precious prize.

I found smoke-reddened eyes staring back at me. I pulled down my bandana so she could see me smile, then asked if there was anyone else in the house.

“Ye’re not goin’ back in there,” Wickham hissed.

Luckily, the girl shook her head, so I didn’t have to argue with him. He asked her to close her eyes and count to ten. When he popped out with her, I rested for a minute before heading into the street to join the others who had just come from another house. Wickham returned soon after.

“That’s five,” he said. “We havenae much daylight left.”

I knew what he was saying, but I shook my head. “I’m not done.”

“Come again?”

I stepped in front of him and looked up into his face, demanding his full attention. “I said I’m not done. And I’m not going to be done until I’ve killed something.”

He leaned down. “Which means what? That none of us are safe?”

I smirked, then winked at Urban. “Some of you are.”

Wickham held out a hand, palm up. “Give over that whistle.”

I blinked a few times.

“If we’re to fight today, I’d rather take them by surprise.”

I bit my lips, blinked a few more times, then dropped the wad of keys into his waiting hand.

He leaned his head back and sucked in a breath, like it took strength for him to break away from me. And when he did, he stumbled back a few steps.

“What the hell?” Everly exchanged a look with Persi. They both looked at him for an explanation. “Wickham?”

The man shrugged. “It happens now and again. I believe it has something to do with Hank.” His eyes met mine briefly, but it was long enough that I knew—I knew—he was lying. Which meant he felt some freakish pull towardme.

But Wickham wasn’t the only one who had felt something. While he’d stood so close, I had the certifiably insane sensation that something had reached into the tips of my boots…and tickled my toes.

No way was I going to admit that to anyone.

I pushed past Wickham and headed up the street. “Then maybe you should stop standing so close.”

* * *

Wickhamand the detour through a burning house had slightly diffused my rage, but when I blinked too slowly, I saw those little feet, toes down in the grass, and lost my shit all over again. And there was only one hope for erasing that image.

We moved much faster through the neighborhoods, not bothering to check for the enemy. We called out until we were hoarse, hoping to find more survivors. Brian found one--an older man who had been hiding in a closet in his garage. I hadn’t thought to check garages. We never missed one after that.

By the time we finished the southeast sweep, sunlight was fading fast. We stopped at the edge of a business area and Wickham opened his mouth to call an end to the day, but he shut it again, stomped over to me, and put the keyring in my hands.

“Go ahead. Blow. If there are any still here, they’ll come.”

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