I followed Samael as he strode toward the blackened rubble. Some of the house’s support beams had survived, and they stood like weary soldiers amongst the carnage of the rest of the house.
“The house will be unstable. Stay close, witchling.” He closed his eyes briefly and I narrowed my eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“Removing any remaining heat.” His hand waved through the air and then he nodded, gesturing for me to follow him. Human firefighters would love the ability to do that little trick.
The rubble was still wet in places. I gingerly picked my way across it, and Samael paused, frowning at something only he could see.
“The fire started in three places almost simultaneously.”
“How do you know?”
He simply looked at me. Right. Demon.
“What places?”
“The third floor, the ground floor close to the entranceway, and that bedroom there.”
“That was Evie’s room. She wasn’t home.”
He nodded. “The fire wasn’t electrical. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was started by an unseelie or a mage. Or a human who convinced a witch to give them access to a spell that would do this kind of damage.”
“Why a dark fae or mage?”
“I don’t know many seelie who can access enough power to create a fire of this scale. The light fae would send a flood, or use their power to grow poisonous flowers which would bloom all at once, choking the residents in their sleep.”
I pushed that image out of my mind. “A demon could create the fire.”
He raised one eyebrow. “No demon would dare target this house.”
“In that case, why didn’t any of the witches get out? And how were the smoke alarms disabled?”
Samael shrugged one shoulder. “That’s your area, witchling. But this attack was well-planned and executed by more than one person.”
“Can you tell where the witches were located? I haven’t gotten my hands on that information yet.”
He gazed at the house and I could feel his power rising, hot and strong. It licked against my shields and I shivered.
“Eight witches were gathered in one room downstairs.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Watching TV, maybe a movie.”
“Two were in the kitchen. The others were spread throughout the rooms upstairs.”
“How many in total?”
“Twenty-two.”
Twenty-two women. Just living their lives, hanging with their friends and family. One minute they’re eating popcorn and watching a movie, and the next they’re staying put while their house burns down.
Samael took my hand and led me away from the rubble. I turned back, finding it difficult to take my eyes off the blackened reminder of what was once my home.
“I need a favor.”
Samael smiled. “As the witchling who lives with me, you have only to ask for what you want,” he purred.
I took a deep breath. No one could piss me off like this guy. No one.
