I get a little more this time, but it’s like pulling from an empty well, scraping the bottom for the last dregs. It’s enough to catch a glint of the iron ladder bolted along the main shaft to my right, though, before it fizzles out and leaves me in darkness once more.
Fuck. Can't turn around to go feet first. I’m gonna break my neck.
Drying my palms on the least damp part of my shirt, I slowly inch forward, heart about to burst out of my chest. Locking my legs against the sides of the ventilation shaft as much as I can, I grope around in the general direction of the ladder. When my knuckles finally bump against the side, I stretch a little farther to wrap my fingers around the metal rung.
Tightening my hold the closer I get, I ease my way to the drop-off. Closing my eyes and praying for a swift death, I work one foot up beneath me, braced on the edge, and shove off with all of my might. Arm screaming in protest, I manage to hold on as I swing before slamming face first into the ladder, hanging as dead weight for several seconds as my brain tries to catch up to the fact that I’m not plummeting to my death.
Snapping into motion, I grab the rung with my other hand as I scramble to find my footing. For a few seconds I remain frozen, hanging onto the lifeline that separates me from a cracked skull. Distant shouts echo through the ventilation shafts above and below, helping spur me back into action.
Tentatively feeling for the rung beneath me, every instinct lights up with a sense of wrongness, telling me to climb up, up, and onto the roof where I can fly away to safety. Even though I don’t have wings, I still have dragon blood, and innately despise being trapped underground. My instincts are as defective as I am.
Just put one foot in front of the other. Don’t think, just feel.
A small eternity later, my shoe scuffs against cement. Probing gently, I ease my way to my feet, and even then, I don’t release my death grip on the ladder for a small eternity to make sure I’m not crazy, or it’s some false bottom that’ll give out at any moment. Prying one hand off, I run my aching fingers gently over the wall, several switches and tiny plastic bumps crossing my fingertips. Agonizingly slowly, I relinquish my hold on my safety net, but remain standing.
My voice is barely more than a raspy whisper. “A-plus work, Amara. All of those arm workouts from jacking off finally paid off and saved your life.”
Swallowing twice, I stare down in the general direction of where I think my hand is. “Pull it together. I’m not asking for much; I’ll even settle for a step above ‘dying lighter.’ But Ineedto find the door.
The sweet irony of being a flashlight that’s afraid of the dark.
Sweat beads on my temple, trickling down my cheek as the temperature continues to increase around me. Gritting my teeth, I will every bit of my energy into the palm of my hand. It’s like trying to start a fire with wet kindling, but I finally manage a few sparks that hold steady long enough for me to do a hasty assessment of the room. It’s about fifteen feet across, a circular design lined with plenty of circuit boards and switches that I don’t have the faintest idea how to operate, but I don’t need to.
I just need to study the locks on the final thing standing between me and sweet, sweet freedom.
Memorizing the layout of the multiple deadbolts, I let the light in my hand go with a relieved sigh. The strain gradually dissipates from my muscles as I reach for the top bolt, going rigid as the sinking realization hits me.
I was too busy talking myself down from panicking that I haven't been counting. I have no clue if it's been ten minutes or not.
Warring with myself, I decide to give it another two minutes. Hand on the latch, I count slowly and steadily, tapping my foot to keep an even pace when I’m tempted to race through the numbers. Just as I’m about to give up waiting for Torin, two sharp knocks make me jump, and I nearly fall on my ass. A brief pause, then another harsh rap against the metal.
Fumbling with the series of locks, I get them open and yank on the ungodly heavy door. Torin has mercy on me and pushes it the rest of the way, every additional inch revealing more blinding light, and enough heat to have me flinching back several steps. The fire is raging in earnest, and for a brief moment, I wonder if we’re actually better off hiding in here until Raiden and Carina can contain the worst of the blaze and guide us out.
But better some singed eyebrows and second degree burns than waiting around wishing for help that might not make it in time.
Torin looks awful. Dark streaks cover his exposed skin, his clothes are singed and burned through in several places, and one hand looks like he tried to beat the fire into submission. But he’s alive, andhere.He could have left to save his own skin, but he came back to keep me from dying alone in the dark.
His shoulders slump in relief. “Thank the gods.” Grabbing my wrist, he tugs me into motion, dragging me with him as he takes off at a fast clip through the hallways. “Pull your shirt up over your nose and mouth to help with the smoke inhalation, or hold your breath.”
Overachiever that I am, I do both.
At the end of the first hallway, he has to let go long enough to rip a door off its hinges and throws it on top of a pile of burning rubble, snatching me around the waist and using it as a springboard to parkour his way past the worst of the flames. When I start coughing in earnest, my shirt doing little to stave off the smoke, he doesn’t hesitate, tossing me over his shoulder and taking off at a run. We round two more corners before coming to a skidding halt, a guttural growl rising above the crackling flames.
A moment later there are hands on my waist, ripping me off of Torin and smashing me against a solid chest. “Thank fuck,” Kodiak breathes, tucking my face against the side of his neck. “Are you alright? No, that’s a stupid fucking question,” he snarls, arms tightening around me and sprinting down the hallway.
Choking on air, I try not to sputter all over him as I hack up a lung. “A dragon can’t die in a fire, it’s too ironic. Even if I wasn’t okay, I’d lie to save face.”
A gravelly, discontented rumble is all I get as he races through the labyrinth of hallways, fresh air suddenly smacking my face so abruptly, I break into a harsh coughing jag, curling in on myself and away from Kodi’s neck in case I’m about to retch. My stomach lurches violently as I drop, Kodi sinking to his knees in the parking lot beside his burning training center.
“Look at me, angel, please,” he croaks, stroking my hair and cupping my jaw, gently urging me to face him.
Stone explained that all of us harbor demons, but it never felt real until now. Kodiak’s eyes are completely taken over by his dragon, vertical slits assessing everything with murderous intent. Obsidian scales coat the majority of his body, turning him into a humanoid reptile straight out of the pages of some of my favorite alien smut. His wings weren’t out before, but they snap out now, wrapping around me in a cocoon that shields me from the rest of the world, leaving the top open to let starlight trickle in so it isn’t completely dark.
When he speaks, I get a flash of sharp teeth, only adding to the wild look in his eyes. “We got the alert on our phones, but it only showed you were near the center of the building, not what floor.”
Stroking a thumb reverently over my cheek, he keeps his eyes on me as he tips his head in thanks to where I assume Torin’s standing. “I cannot thank you enough for keeping her safe. I owe you a debt.”
Torin grunts. “You don’t owe me shit. I’m just relieved the door was unlocked by the time I made it back there so I didn’t have to fuck up my shoulder busting it down. Carina made it out already, right?”
