Page 95 of From the Ashes
I hadn't seen. My attention had been on the door.
"Doyle!" Lady Harcourt's screech grated like nails down a chalkboard. "Doyle, re-light them!"
"Yes, ma'am." I felt him move away, the sudden absence of his solidness turning my blood cold. I couldn't see a thing in the dark, not even outlines. The scent of candle smoke filled the room.
"I release you," I muttered, but my imp didn't emerge from its cocoon.
Seth's arms circled me. "Stay close," he murmured in my ear.
I had every intention of doing so. But my arms were suddenly grabbed from behind and I was wrenched away and flung face down on the floor, my hands clasped at my back by large, strong fingers.
"Charlie!" Seth shouted. "Charlie! Where are you?"
"Here!" I managed to call back before a fist slammed into my mouth. My head hit the floor, dazing me.
Noise. So much noise filled my head. Screaming. Shouted orders. The pounding of my blood.
Then a knife pressed into my side, it's cold, sharp point pricking my skin through the layers of clothing.
I struggled, kicking out, but a heavy body weighed me down. My pathetic efforts achieved nothing. It was definitely a man, and not Gillingham either. He wasn't big enough.
The knife cut me.
I screamed but it was drowned out by an explosion. The floor trembled beneath me. Glasses and plates rattled. The shouts suddenly stopped and an eerie silence followed.
"No," gasped the man on top of me. "Not yet." The pressure eased enough for me to flip over and punch upward, in one single movement. My fist connected with a satisfying but bruising crunch.
"Charlie!" Seth cried.
"Down here!" I shouted, lashing out again.
I must have stunned my attacker because he fell back but did not get off me altogether. I wriggled and shoved at him, managing to free myself. Doyle relit a candle, and in the wan light, I realized I'd only wriggled free because Seth had pulled the attacker off me.
"You!" both Seth and I snapped at General Eastbrooke.
He breathed heavily and sweat dampened his brow, but he did not look at us. He stared at the door. "Lincoln," he muttered, eyes wide. "It wasn't supposed to go off yet. Lincoln…my son."
I scrambled to my feet, picked up my skirts, and sprinted out the door. "Lincoln!"
Chapter 19
Awallof heat and smoke slammed into me when I reached the kitchen. It was impossible to see how much of the room was on fire through the dark, billowing smoke. "Lincoln!" I screamed.
No answer. Only shouts behind me and the crackle of flames in front. Tears burned my eyes, blurred my vision. I buried my mouth and nose in my arm and pressed on. I had to find him. He must be safe, somewhere, alive. Hehadto be.
Otherwise…
I choked, as much from the suffocating fear and tears as from the smoke itself. I squinted into the gray pall, tried to make out human shapes, but could only identify the table and stove, no people.
Someone coughed and spluttered. Lincoln! Or Gus or Cook, perhaps. I had to get in there, but the air squeezed out of my lungs and smoke rushed in. I coughed into my arm and inched forward.
The amber in my necklace pulsed. The imp! It wouldn't save the others, but it would save me.
Voices sounded behind me, a jumble of incomprehensible shouts. Then the general suddenly emerged from the dark. With a snarl, he lunged at me.
I plunged into the smoky haze filling the kitchen. Searing heat smacked into my face and stole the remaining breath from my lungs. Smoke clogged my throat. I couldn't breathe. Dizziness swamped me. I fell to my knees, but managed to wrap my hand around the rapidly beating orb.
"I release you," I choked out.
