Page 6 of Watch Me Burn

Only one way to tell. Acting like I don’t notice him coming down the street, I swallow the lump in my throat and look left, look right, see that no one is coming down the road in their car, and hightail it across the street.

Moving from one block to the next, I turn my head just enough to peek behind me.

Shit.

He crossed, too.

Maybe he’s decided to head back to the Sanguine on foot. We could be heading in the same direction coincidentally, but doesn’t he know better than to spook a woman walking out on her own? He should’ve stayed on the other side of the street, but he didn’t, and I really don’t like that.

I have my keys in my hand. The metal feels almost scalding hot against my fingers, like they’ve been left out in the sun instead of my sweatshirt pocket. I don’t care. I clutch them tighter, removing them from my pocket so I have better access to them, and the sensation fades.

The feeling that he’s right on my assdoesn’t.

Up ahead is another cross street. It’ll take me a good five minutes out of the way, but if that will help me shake him, that’sfine. Besides, maybe I can get enough distance between us so that I can call Elise, see if her and Dorian can swing this way after all.

I turn the corner quickly, keeping my slight lead.

There are far fewer lights down this street. It was already dark out, but unless I’m imagining it, it’s gotten impossiblydarker. Even weirder, it seems like it’s around me. Like a black cloud or… or a mess of shadows is tracking my every panicked step. Following me? Orpartof me?

Smoke, I think, a touch hysterically. I think it might be smoke.

On the heels of that thought, something smells like it’s burning. I sniff, blowing the air out of my nose when the stink of singed hair fills my nostrils.

I pause, searching for the telltale orange glow of a nearby fire, listening for a crackle and a sizzle, and finding none.

That was a mistake. I’d hoped that he would pass by the cross street, going on his merry way. Nope. While I was distracted, the stranger turned the corner.

How do I know? Because, all of a sudden, he has my wrist in his grasp.

It’s the hand holding my keys. I hear a jangle, but it’s not my car key rustling against the apartment key that makes the noise. Oh, no. It’s the sound of handcuffs being unleashed before the metal scrapes against metal as he gets it around my right hand.

Did I think I was panicked before? That’s nothing compared to the realization that this stranger justcuffedme. I shriek, spinning around on him. I can’t gouge his eyes out with my keys. He disarmed me too well for that.

But I have another hand, and tearing it out of my sweatshirt pocket, I thrust it at the stranger.

The move was an instinctive one. Like I just wanted to shove him away from me any way I could so that I don’t become the first crime statistic in Clarity over the last half-decade after all.

If only that’s what happened.

You know whatdoeshappen?

Fire.

I shoot fuckingfireout of my palm.

It streams out like a jet, hitting him right in the chest. His scarf catches first, then his thick coat, and the shock of being set ablaze has him letting go of the other half of the handcuff.

I don’t run. Ican’trun. I just watch in horror as he backs away from the fire that’s enclosing my entire right hand.

It tickles.Tickles. There’s no heat, and if it wasn’t for the renewed stink of something burning and the warmth pouring off of the stranger, I’d think I was imagining it.

But I’m not.

Not even a little.

He screams.

I scream.

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