“Don’t waste your breath,” said Nick bitterly, though he appreciated the sentiment. “He’s not sorry.”
Tyler met his eyes in the rearview mirror again, and Nick expected him to snap back with something vicious, but he held the eye contact for a second, then looked away.
He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was rough. “Can you do that again?” he said. “The pressure wave?”
Nick hesitated, wondering if there was a trap in the question.
“I don’t know.” He paused and glanced down at Adam’s fingers linked with his. “I didn’t know I could do it in the first place. It wasn’t on purpose—sometimes power takes over when we’re in danger, and we can’t fully control it.” His voice turned sharp and mocking. “Know anything about that, Tyler?”
“You covered a lot of ground,” Tyler said, ignoring his tone.
“At least two miles. Could you do something smaller scale to warn your brothers somehow?”
Nick wasn’t sure. He thought of his connection to Gabriel again, tried to focus on it, to imagine what his brother was doing right now.
Was this a typical twin connection? Or did it have something to do with his element? Did the air know Gabriel, know their bond? All this time, was it just a matter of feeding power into the atmosphere?
He had no idea.
“Open the windows,” he said.
Tyler pushed the button, and wind streamed through the truck’s cab. Nick listened to the air, threading his power among the currents.
Danger, the wind whispered.
No kidding, he thought back. But then he paid more attention, focusing on the source of that danger. The clouds overhead were shifting, darkening in the south, promising a storm sometime in the future.
A storm. Rain.
Chris.
But Nick didn’t sense Chris’s power in the storm. Feeding energy into the wind might get them nowhere.
Tyler came to a stop sign at the end of Magothy Beach Road.
“Still going to your house?” he said.
“Wait,” said Nick. “Just wait.”
They were half a mile from the house now. The air here was calmer: the storm was a few miles off yet.
Gabriel, he thought, sending power into the sky.
For an instant, nothing.
Then he felt it, his brother’s presence, like a blazing beacon in his mind.
“Fire,” said Tyler.
“Where?” asked Quinn. Nick didn’t sense it, either—but then again, he wasn’t a Fire Elemental.
And then he felt it, the reason danger rode the wind. It had nothing to do with the storm in the east.
And everything to do with the smoke to the west.
Quinn spent each moment vacillating between wanting to kill Tyler and wanting to hug him.
“Stay in the truck,” he snapped, when he parked alongside the woods. She could smell the smoke now, a primal scent that warned her to stay away.
But she glared at Tyler and climbed out anyway.
“Stay in the truck,” Nick agreed. But he wasn’t focused on her. He was focused on the woods. She wondered how much he could sense, whether Gabriel was in immediate danger. “This guy isn’t messing around. You saw that.”
“He didn’t shoot me in the dance studio,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me that they don’t kill normal people?”
“They kill anyone,” said Tyler, “if it leads to the greater good. He didn’t kill you in the dance studio because you weren’t a threat.”
“Well, I’m not exactly a threat now—”
A gun fired in the woods, and Nick and Tyler both jerked her down and against the truck. Adam crouched beside them.
“I am not helpless!” she snapped. But her heartbeat was in her ears, blocking other sounds.
Nick was practically breathless. Too pale. He’d healed his head wound, but she wondered how much damage he’d really taken. “Can you get to the house?” he said. “Everyone’s number is on the wall. Call Michael. Tell him—tell him—”
“I’m not leaving you,” she said.
“Damn it, Quinn, I can’t help them all! I need—I want—”
Another gunshot. Everyone froze.
The wind kicked up, a sudden gust that lifted her hair. The air temperature dropped ten degrees. Nick went paler, if that was possible. “He’s hurt. He’s hurt. He’s—”
Another shot.
“Go,” said Tyler. “If you can get to a phone, call nine-one-one.”
“We’ll go,” said Adam. “Come on, Quinn.”
Then he grabbed her hand and dragged her, not leaving any room for argument.
CHAPTER 32
The woods blazed with fire, consuming dead leaves and trees and anything it could find to burn. Nick moved beside Tyler, hating that his mortal enemy was going to be at his side when he found his brother’s body.
Stop thinking like that.
But he couldn’t sense Gabriel now. The flames were too thick, and smoke clouded the sky, blocking what sunlight crept through.
More fire was good, right?
Or did it mean that Gabriel had lost all control, and the fire was raging of its own accord?
Nick stumbled and lost his footing.
Tyler caught his arm and hauled him to his feet.
Nick struggled and wrenched his arm away from him. His head still wasn’t ready for this much movement, and he hit the ground anyway, landing in burning leaves.
“Fine,” said Tyler. He took a step closer to Nick and the fire moved away from him, leaving Nick alone, too. “Do it your way. Face this guy while you can barely stand up.”
Tyler met his eyes in the rearview mirror again, and Nick expected him to snap back with something vicious, but he held the eye contact for a second, then looked away.
He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was rough. “Can you do that again?” he said. “The pressure wave?”
Nick hesitated, wondering if there was a trap in the question.
“I don’t know.” He paused and glanced down at Adam’s fingers linked with his. “I didn’t know I could do it in the first place. It wasn’t on purpose—sometimes power takes over when we’re in danger, and we can’t fully control it.” His voice turned sharp and mocking. “Know anything about that, Tyler?”
“You covered a lot of ground,” Tyler said, ignoring his tone.
“At least two miles. Could you do something smaller scale to warn your brothers somehow?”
Nick wasn’t sure. He thought of his connection to Gabriel again, tried to focus on it, to imagine what his brother was doing right now.
Was this a typical twin connection? Or did it have something to do with his element? Did the air know Gabriel, know their bond? All this time, was it just a matter of feeding power into the atmosphere?
He had no idea.
“Open the windows,” he said.
Tyler pushed the button, and wind streamed through the truck’s cab. Nick listened to the air, threading his power among the currents.
Danger, the wind whispered.
No kidding, he thought back. But then he paid more attention, focusing on the source of that danger. The clouds overhead were shifting, darkening in the south, promising a storm sometime in the future.
A storm. Rain.
Chris.
But Nick didn’t sense Chris’s power in the storm. Feeding energy into the wind might get them nowhere.
Tyler came to a stop sign at the end of Magothy Beach Road.
“Still going to your house?” he said.
“Wait,” said Nick. “Just wait.”
They were half a mile from the house now. The air here was calmer: the storm was a few miles off yet.
Gabriel, he thought, sending power into the sky.
For an instant, nothing.
Then he felt it, his brother’s presence, like a blazing beacon in his mind.
“Fire,” said Tyler.
“Where?” asked Quinn. Nick didn’t sense it, either—but then again, he wasn’t a Fire Elemental.
And then he felt it, the reason danger rode the wind. It had nothing to do with the storm in the east.
And everything to do with the smoke to the west.
Quinn spent each moment vacillating between wanting to kill Tyler and wanting to hug him.
“Stay in the truck,” he snapped, when he parked alongside the woods. She could smell the smoke now, a primal scent that warned her to stay away.
But she glared at Tyler and climbed out anyway.
“Stay in the truck,” Nick agreed. But he wasn’t focused on her. He was focused on the woods. She wondered how much he could sense, whether Gabriel was in immediate danger. “This guy isn’t messing around. You saw that.”
“He didn’t shoot me in the dance studio,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me that they don’t kill normal people?”
“They kill anyone,” said Tyler, “if it leads to the greater good. He didn’t kill you in the dance studio because you weren’t a threat.”
“Well, I’m not exactly a threat now—”
A gun fired in the woods, and Nick and Tyler both jerked her down and against the truck. Adam crouched beside them.
“I am not helpless!” she snapped. But her heartbeat was in her ears, blocking other sounds.
Nick was practically breathless. Too pale. He’d healed his head wound, but she wondered how much damage he’d really taken. “Can you get to the house?” he said. “Everyone’s number is on the wall. Call Michael. Tell him—tell him—”
“I’m not leaving you,” she said.
“Damn it, Quinn, I can’t help them all! I need—I want—”
Another gunshot. Everyone froze.
The wind kicked up, a sudden gust that lifted her hair. The air temperature dropped ten degrees. Nick went paler, if that was possible. “He’s hurt. He’s hurt. He’s—”
Another shot.
“Go,” said Tyler. “If you can get to a phone, call nine-one-one.”
“We’ll go,” said Adam. “Come on, Quinn.”
Then he grabbed her hand and dragged her, not leaving any room for argument.
CHAPTER 32
The woods blazed with fire, consuming dead leaves and trees and anything it could find to burn. Nick moved beside Tyler, hating that his mortal enemy was going to be at his side when he found his brother’s body.
Stop thinking like that.
But he couldn’t sense Gabriel now. The flames were too thick, and smoke clouded the sky, blocking what sunlight crept through.
More fire was good, right?
Or did it mean that Gabriel had lost all control, and the fire was raging of its own accord?
Nick stumbled and lost his footing.
Tyler caught his arm and hauled him to his feet.
Nick struggled and wrenched his arm away from him. His head still wasn’t ready for this much movement, and he hit the ground anyway, landing in burning leaves.
“Fine,” said Tyler. He took a step closer to Nick and the fire moved away from him, leaving Nick alone, too. “Do it your way. Face this guy while you can barely stand up.”
