That was not a name she’d expected to hear. “Cole Burton?”
But her father didn’t answer.
The well of fear crashed through the glass wall, breaking it into a thousand pieces. Panic turned her voice high and sharp. “Dad!” Her heart raced, and tears, hot and heavy, blurred her vision. “Dad! Come on, wake up! Please!”
It took everything she had not to let go of the towels and shake him. She had to hold the blood back, keep it from spilling across the floor. She focused on the shallow rise and fall of his chest, only vaguely aware that she was chanting, “Please, please.”
Time warped, and she had no idea how much had passed when the shrill whine of a siren pierced her terror. “Just hold on, Dad. Help’s almost here.”
The noise drew closer and closer until it encompassed everything. Then it abruptly shut off, leaving a ringing silence that was broken by the heavy thump of a fist against the door.
“Come in!” she yelled.
There was a rush of movement, then someone was pulling her away. She fought them blindly, fearing if she let go, she would lose her dad. Eventually, the panic lifted enough for her to realize the EMTs had arrived and she was being held back by a female firefighter.
“Ma’am, I need you to calm down.” From her calm tone, it was clear she’d been trying to talk Cass down for a few minutes.
Cass forced her body to still. “I’m good.” A shudder wracked her, making her words a lie.
The arms around her didn’t loosen. “Can you tell me what happened?”
One firefighter stood off to the side, talking into a radio and watching the rest of the crew work. He was older, with an air of command. Two other firefighters worked in tandem with a two-man paramedic team, one of whom had his eyes closed and his hands on Elias’s temples.
A healing mage.
Emergency kits were sprawled open as the men grabbed and discarded various items. They spoke in low, urgent tones cluttered with acronyms unique to their world. Mesmerized, she watched their well-rehearsed, synchronized dance. She didn’t dare look away, afraid that if she did, the steady beep indicating that her dad was still here would turn into a flat keen of death.
Controlled chaos. The distant realization barely penetrated, just a strange observation, as if anything more would be too much to take in.
The arms around her fell away. “Ma’am, do you know what happened?”
“We came in and found him.”
“We?”
The firefighters moved, blocking her dad from view. Cass blinked and turned to the female firefighter, her brain slowly playing catch-up. “Sorry?”
“You said, ‘we.’” The firefighter’s voice remained gentle, but her gaze was sharp.
“Grayson—he’s with my sister.” She started to fold her arms, only to stop when she caught sight of her bloodstained hands. Her mind blanked.
“Where are they? Are they injured?”
“No.” The firefighter’s questions buzzed around her like mosquitoes, and it wasn’t until the woman caught her wrists and tugged on them that Cass realized shock was setting in.
“Let’s sit over here.” The woman guided her toward the couch. She made Cass sit, then she perched on the edge of the stone coffee table so they were facing each other. “What’s your name?”
“Cassandra Alcmene.”
“Hi, Cassandra. I’m Tracy.”
Habit had her saying, “Hi.”
Tracy managed a gentle smile. “The man on the floor—who is he?”
“My father, Elias Ambrose.”
“And your sister?”
