I glanced over at the window seat where Betty was resting next to Max’s still unnamed guitar. We’d been practicing a little this morning.
I hadn’t been able to bring myself to create anything new yet. There were snippets of melodies in my brain, but words eluded me. There was a block that I hoped would vanish eventually. At least I hadn’t lost music completely. One day, I’d be able to make it again, even if it was for myself.
But teaching Max to play had been so much fun that I didn’t miss anything else. Besides, we were getting to the point where we could do tiny, enjoyable jam sessions.
I went back out and into the garage slash home gym. The third of the building that made up the chicken coop was like a damn bird hotel at this point. These girls were definitely the most well-kept chickens I’d ever seen. They got to roam around when it was safe, but their coop had gone from a small one to a mansion in no time when we’d realized that while any building was ongoing on the property, it was safer for them to stay in their enclosed area.
I had a nice gym rotation going on. Brodie took his work out seriously enough that we had good equipment. They were all supernatural grade, meaning that we could run really fast on the treadmills if we wanted, and we didn’t have to worry about accidentally destroying any of the machines with our strength.
Working out had become a habit that I liked to keep up even while Brodie was on his vacation. I felt an odd sense of pride at the gradual changes in my body—Rian had told me it wasn’t easy for a vampire to do that. I was pretty sure the working out combined with the solid overfeeding on wolf blood had something to do with it.
I was almost at the end of my full workout when I heard something I couldn’t place. The door to the garage/gym was open, but I could only see a sliver of the yard from where I sat doing my bicep curls.
Putting the weight down, I got up and strolled into the doorway. That’s when I smelled a person I didn’t know. A human.
But there was no vehicle I could see, and I hadn’t heard one, either.
A metallic click sounded from somewhere toward the house, then a whoosh I immediately recognized.
“Fire!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I ran toward the sound and saw the back corner of the house in flames. There was a young woman standing nearby, looking almost shocked at what she’d done.
I registered the small gas canister by her feet.
“Get the hose!” Ben yelled somewhere behind me.
I glanced at the wall, the flames climbing, and I roared. I saw red. My fangs descended and I tasted blood. I leapt at her, barely registering my elongated fingers as I bowled her over and snarled in her face as I loomed over her.
She screamed, and the acrid smell of her losing the control of her bladder pushed aside the alcohol on her breath and the gasoline for a brief moment.
I had never been this angry. Not even when I learned my bandmates had broken the vow we’d made to never, ever touch drugs. Not when my parents had practically disowned me for choosing to live.
I wasfurious.
“Luca, stand down,” Ben said firmly somewhere nearby. “Let her go.”
I couldn’t do that. I had my fingers around her neck, and I didn’t know when I’d done that.
“Luca. I’ve called Holden. They’re coming. Let me grab her, okay? Then go get the extinguisher from the foyer.” A hint of sternness and frustration entered his tone. “Luca.The house.”
Oh shit.The house. I leapt off her and ran to get the extinguisher. I knew how to use one. In theory.
We were twenty miles or so from town. It would take the emergency services too long. We needed to act now.
“Max!” I yelled as I ran past Ben and the woman again.
“Give me that!” he called back, and I realized the hose was halfway unwound toward the fire.
When I started toward it, Max yelled, “It won’t help! Water will just spread the gasoline. We need to smother it!”
Jesus. Okay. We had more extinguishers. I ran back inside and into the kitchen. We also had one extra somewhere. Gods. Where had I seen it?The closet upstairs.
I had never been as happy to have the speed I now had than I did at this moment. I was back out in no time, trying to think what to do next. I dumped the extinguishers by Max’s feet and ran to the other side of the yard. “Ben! I need help!” I yelled. The woman could try to run; she wouldn’t get far.
Ben caught up with me as I grabbed a tarp from the toolshed and started to shovel sand from the remaining pile on top of it.
Understanding what I was doing, he picked up another shovel and soon we were carrying a large amount of sand in a squeaking, barely-holding-together tarp. We didn’t need to communicate, we’d just wordlessly lifted it instead of dragging, and I would’ve smiled at that if time wasn’t of the essence.
