Page 31 of These Witches Don't Burn
“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Gemma says, ignoring the phone pressed to her ear. “Hannah, wait—”
But I don’t. There isn’t time. I call upon my magic, nurture the thrum in my chest, and race around the side of the house, heading for the kitchen door. I gather as much clean air as I can,hold it tight around my face, and dive back inside the burning house.
The smoke is near black now. Thick and roiling. The smell acrid and choking despite my makeshift mask. I get as low as I can and hurry through the house. The fire hasn’t made it downstairs yet, but I still have to move fast. I have to get to Benton before the flames do.
The fire’s power, infused with Veronica’s magic, is so bright that it numbs my senses.
I pick my way through the halls and around disarrayed furniture, trying to follow the same path back to the living room where the stairs lead to the second level. The smoke makes it hard to see, and I stumble into an overturned chair and nearly fall on my face. It would be so easy to command the air, to clear the smoke out of my way, but with dozens and dozens of Regs on the front lawn watching eagerly through the windows, I can’t risk it.
Finally, I reach the stairs and drop to my knees, keeping low to the steps as I follow the smoke upward. The fire’s will sings against my skin.Come. Play with me.Fear prickles at the base of my spine.
“Benton! Where are you?”
Above me, Benton coughs. “Is someone there?” He sounds weak. Nearly breathless.
Power surges through my veins as I reach for the heart of the fire’s power.Calm now. You’ve done enough.I try to soothe the flames climbing up the walls beside me, eating away at the striped wallpaper, but they resist my magic.
You’ve done enough. It’s time to rest.
In the distance, barely audible above the roar of the fire, sirens wail.
They’re bringing water, I tell the fire, pushing my will against its hunger.Will you let them tame you?
The fire recoils from my words. Then it pushes back and burns hotter. Its defiance growing stronger, more terrifying.
Above me, Benton coughs again. Wheezes in a staggered breath. He feels farther away now, like he’s backed into a shrinking corner of fireless space.
“Benton! Can you make it to the stairs?” I shake off the panic seizing my chest and hope he can hear me. “Come on! We have to get out of here.”
After a moment of silence, his voice breaks through. Hoarse and weak. “I can’t. There’s too much fire.”
Shit.We’re running out of time.
I inhale most of what remains of my oxygen and let power coil in my veins. I reach for the center of the fire’s power, squashing it, dampening it, but it holds strong and pushes back against extinction. Flames bite at my legs, and though my skin will never burn, the hem of my shorts starts to smoke.
The sirens are louder now, but not close enough. They won’t get here in time to drown the flames, not before my air is gone and I pass out. Not before Benton meets the same fate or worse, trapped in a room on the far side of the floor. I tug at the air again, searching for signs of Benton’s wheezing breath. But it’s gone.
He’s not breathing.
I panic and make one last attempt to grab hold of the fire’s energy, to bend it to my will, but when it resists, I let go.
And steal all the oxygen from the room—from the whole damn house—instead.
My lungs fill and my head clears as the fire suffocates anddies away, leaving ash and charred wood, crumbled carpet and dripping wallpaper, in its wake. As soon as the fire dies, I exhale, returning the air to its proper place. Power hums in my veins. I feel like I could do anything.Beanything.
Sirens outside interrupt the thought. A higher, less primal fear pulses through me. I need to get out of here before someone finds me and realizes what I’ve done.
“Benton?” I rush up the stairs and search the rooms, finding him in the last one on the right, slumped in the corner with sweat coating his face. He’s still not breathing. “Benton, come on.” I shake him, but that does little good.
I glance behind me, making sure we’re truly alone. When I’m positive no one can see, I hover a hand over Benton’s nose and mouth, pushing magicked air into his lungs.
Benton gasps. His eyes shoot open, and I drop my hand. “You okay?”
He looks at me, eyes wide, and nods his head.
“We have to go. Come on.” I help Benton to his feet and guide him down the stairs. Something crashes up ahead, and I freeze.Is it the Blood Witch?I shove the thought away. No self-respecting Blood Witch would attack an Elemental with fire. But that knowledge doesn’t soothe my fears.
Whoever is in here must have seen the fire disappear.
