“Oh my gosh,” she said. “We pitted two firestarters against each other. We might get rid of Sam Forester. And we just robbed Buster Gates.”
I pulled out onto the dirt road toward town. “Don’t get too excited, criminal.” I leaned forward to peer out the windshield at the fires brightening the sky. “Bach and Ludwig are still going at it. Look.” Plumes of flame burst upward every few seconds. And they were moving north, past town center, in the direction of the high school. “That can’t be good. Bach’s having problems.”
“Maybe it just takes a long time.” Artemis’s smile had faded. She, too, followed the progression of the fire. Mads’s headlights glared in my rearview mirror as we turned south. “It’s good that he’s going north, though, isn’t it? We can get home without anyone seeing us.”
It was good for usright now, but Bach had never made any guarantees he could beat Ludwig. If Ludwig got the upper hand, then Addamsville would really be hosed. As far as I knew, Bach had been the only thing keeping Ludwig semi-controlled this whole time. I certainly hadn’t been doing anything to help.
The Chevelle grumbled along the road, Mads on our tail. Fires leaped on the west side of town, snaking north like a dragon on a rampage. Sirens had gone up. Artemis’s phoneping ping pinged with notifications.
“There are videos of it,” she said, the light from her phone washing her face a pallid blue. “You can see both of them. Bach and Ludwig.” Tinny screams came from the phone speakers. “Neither of them look good. Oh my god—Bach’sarm—”
My hands shook on the steering wheel. I could save myself, but what was the point if Ludwig destroyed Addamsville? This was my home. It had been Mom’s home, too. She’d worked so hard for so long to keep it safe, not just to give her time to find her answers, but to keep her family safe. To keep everyone who lived here safe. She was able to help, so she helped.
For all her training, she’d never told me what I had to do or be. She’d helped me see what abilities I had and how to use them, and she’d let me decide.
Death or hunting.
“Artemis,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady, “do you want out of the car?”
She glanced at me. “No. Why would I want out of the car?”
“Because I’m about to turn around and help Bach.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want out of the car?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to let you go alone.”
“Cool,” I said, and swung into the wide dirt lane. Artemis screamed and grabbed her seat; the Chevelle’s engine snarled as I floored the gas coming out of the turn. Then we were speeding north, leaving Mads and the others floundering behind us. Within seconds one of them had texted Artemis. “You can tell them what we’re doing,” I said, “but they’ll have a hard time keeping up.”
The Chevelle flew. It had been made for the hunt, this car. We raced past the junkyard, past Masrell’s house, through the fringes of northern Addamsville, where the people were either hiding in their houses or had already ventured out to investigate the fiery disturbance. Those flames neared the high school now; if Bach and Ludwig kept on their path, we’d meet them there. The smell of fire permeated the car, and as we turned toward Handack, we saw it.
Walls of fire in the streets, leaping as tall as the houses. My hands faltered on the wheel. All I could hear was crackling, thehissed and pops, the small explosions. My fingers ached. My whole body ached.
“ZORA!”
Artemis grabbed my shoulder. I jammed my foot on the brake. The Chevelle roared as it curled onto Handack, through skeins of flame. We shot north, hot but not burning. I turned late, missed the entrance to the high school parking lot, and went flying over the curb. The bump onto the asphalt rattled my prosthetics loose. Black scars crossed the pavement in front of the school, erasing wide swaths of parking spaces, and a flaming hole had torn through the chain-link fence surrounding the football field. People—locals,DMWfans, ghost hunters—stood outside the fence, phones and cameras out. I aimed the Chevelle. They jumped out of the way at the roar of the engine. We crashed through the fence, and the melted links screamed against the doors and windows.
The Chevelle’s wheels spun out on the field. It churned dead grass and dirt as I jammed the brakes. Small fires peppered the field and danced around the feet of the two combatants at the thirty-yard line.
The Chevelle’s headlights flooded over them. Neither looked good. Half of Tad Thompson’s hair was gone, one side of his face a twisted mask of burned flesh. His clothes were charred. He panted heavily. Bach’s leather jacket was missing, his shirt hanging by threads. He still had all his hair, but heswayed where he stood, and his attention was now split between Ludwig and the Chevelle.
I gunned the engine. Ludwig leaped out of the way just before I drove through him. I spun the Chevelle around. Artemis groaned. Ludwig stood between Bach and me now, his attention on both of us. I couldn’t hit him without running straight into Bach, too, and I needed Bach around until this was done.
“Stay in the car,” I told Artemis, then twisted to grab Dad’s axe from the backseat before kicking open the driver’s side door.
“Hey, asshole!”
Ludwig’s head swung toward me. I moved through the Chevelle’s headlights and started making my way across the field. He followed me as I sidestepped to the left.
“Got my car back,” I said. “Thanks for pulling it out for me. Really considerate of you.”
Words seemed to fail him; his eyes were two red pinpricks in his eye sockets, and his breath came out in long rumbles. His expression was slack, but all his teeth showed. The longer he had to recuperate, the more life came back into his eyes. Bach, behind him, didn’t seem to be regenerating nearly as well.
“Come on. I’m the one you want, right? No fire for me this time? Don’t you want the rest of my fingers?” I spun the axe in my hands, drawing his eye. Behind him, Bach shookhis head and regained solid footing. “Nah, you wouldn’t have any left. I’m sure Bach has plenty, though. That’s probably why Hildegard liked him better than you.” A low hiss slipped between Ludwig’s pressed-together teeth. “Oh, you poorbaby. You’re so easy to taunt. Can’t get over the fact that Mom had a favorite.” I was really glad Sadie wasn’t around to hear me now. “Your answers aren’t in Grimshaw House, and even if they were, you’re never going to get them. Youlost, you piece of—”
Ludwig lunged. So did Bach, at the exact same time, and Ludwig spun and unleashed a blast of fire that sent Bach rolling to the sidelines. I fell, too, with the streak of light imprinted in my vision. He still had fire. He stalked toward me now, leaving singed footprints in the grass. The smell of bonfires filled the stadium. An engine rumbled. The air in my lungs felt burned up, too. I couldn’t breathe. Ludwig stood over me with his jaw tight and his teeth chattering.
