Take him. The horse. Gabriel’s fingers closed on the rope automatically, just as the animal reared up, nearly jerking the rope free.
“Just get him through the gate!” Layne cried, pointing behind him.
Like he could do that without getting trampled. The horse had to weigh a thousand pounds, and he was dragging Gabriel in a circle, a snorting panicked mess of muscle and hooves.
He managed to get to the gate, somehow working the latch before the horse swung around, knocking Gabriel into the fence with his shoulder. Gabriel lost hold of the rope but before he could panic, the horse bolted through the opening, tearing along the fenceline with a thunder of hooves against turf.
But the animal was trapped in the field. Gabriel latched the gate.
When he turned around, Layne was gone.
He spun full circle. Gone.
Smoke poured from the barn doors now. Horses were still screaming, banging on the walls. Trapped. Layne couldn’t have . . . she wouldn’t But he was already running before those thoughts could complete themselves.
He made it to the barn doors just as Layne burst through the wall of smoke, coughing as she ran. She had a rope in each hand, two horses trailing behind her. Her face was streaked with soot already. One of the horses had bits of flaming debris on its back. Both were wide eyed, their steel shoes skidding on the concrete outside the barn.
“Layne!” he said. “Don’t ”
“Take them!”
Then she flung the ropes at him, and he was lost in a rush of surging horseflesh.
And she was back in the barn.
He couldn’t catch the ropes quickly enough. The horses bolted for the path behind the barn, the path where he’d first met Layne, the path that led to the woods and safety.
He had no idea whether she was right about the whole herd animal thing, but the woods were better than the barn. He let them go, then dove into the cloud of smoke after her.
After the sunlight, the darkness of the barn was almost absolute. Sparks dripped from the ceiling, catching at loose straw and wood shavings to create small fires in his path. But most of the fire was overhead, in the hayloft, a pulsing glow that called to him through the smoke.
You’re here! Come play.
“Layne!” he yelled. The roar of the fire was a living thing, muting his voice. Horses were still screaming in the darkness a sound that had started as panic and now carried mostly pain.
He shouted her name again, dropping to his knees where the smoke was less dense though it didn’t help. The fire had found something new to burn, and metal cans were bursting somewhere to his left. He could smell chemicals.
Settle, he pleaded.
He hadn’t realized how much Hunter’s presence helped, how much another Elemental let him focus his power.
This was too much for him to handle alone.
“Layne!”
Nothing.
How could he have done this? His control was no better than when he’d killed his parents. And it was going to happen again.
He swept the aisle, going from side to side, using his hands to learn if she’d collapsed in here somewhere. He found all kinds of items he couldn’t identify no Layne. He heard a crash, and before he could identify the source, something heavy ran into him, knocking him aside. Hooves hit his rib cage; his head hit the wall. Metal horseshoes scrabbled at the concrete flooring, and then the animal was gone, tearing into the sunlight.
Gabriel coughed and rolled back to his knees, ignoring the new pain in his chest, the starbursts flaring in his eyes. He deserved a broken rib or two. A concussion.
He deserved to be trampled. To death.
“Layne!”
Fire rained down more steadily now. Bits of wood struck his back, his cheeks, his hands.
There was only one horse banging now, from what he could tell. Had they all escaped? Or had some died from the smoke, the heat?
Would he find Layne, or just a body?
Stop it.
Larger parts of the ceiling fell behind him, flaming planks of wood crashing into the aisle. Fire leapt onto the walls, into the open stall doors, catching the sawdust bedding and turning it into a carpet of flame.
What if Layne wasn’t in the aisle at all, but inside one of the stalls?
Help me, he begged the fire. Where is she?
But this fire didn’t care about people. It cared about the burn, the destruction, the pure energy.
Metal struck concrete again, and Gabriel scrabbled out of the way. Smoke swelled around the running animal, revealing a white head, soot-covered flanks, and then a tail swallowed up by the smoke.
No more banging.
Someone had let that horse out.
“Layne!” Gabriel dove forward. The horse had come down the center of the aisle, so he didn’t know which side to check first.
This new silence was terrifying.
He started left.
Closed door. Closed door. Open door but no Layne. Maybe it had been pushed open by one of the earlier horses.
The heat was scorching his lungs. He refused to think of what it must be doing to Layne’s.
He scurried across the aisle. Closed door. Closed door. Closed where the hell was she?
And then his hand came down on something solid.
A body.
She wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. When he put his hands on her face, he felt something wet blood, running from her hairline. Gabriel was choking on smoke, on tears, on saying her name. He had her in his arms, but it was like clutching a doll.
Power breathed in the air around him. A fierce contradiction to the lifeless girl in his arms.
He wanted to lie down and die beside her.
“Just get him through the gate!” Layne cried, pointing behind him.
Like he could do that without getting trampled. The horse had to weigh a thousand pounds, and he was dragging Gabriel in a circle, a snorting panicked mess of muscle and hooves.
He managed to get to the gate, somehow working the latch before the horse swung around, knocking Gabriel into the fence with his shoulder. Gabriel lost hold of the rope but before he could panic, the horse bolted through the opening, tearing along the fenceline with a thunder of hooves against turf.
But the animal was trapped in the field. Gabriel latched the gate.
When he turned around, Layne was gone.
He spun full circle. Gone.
Smoke poured from the barn doors now. Horses were still screaming, banging on the walls. Trapped. Layne couldn’t have . . . she wouldn’t But he was already running before those thoughts could complete themselves.
He made it to the barn doors just as Layne burst through the wall of smoke, coughing as she ran. She had a rope in each hand, two horses trailing behind her. Her face was streaked with soot already. One of the horses had bits of flaming debris on its back. Both were wide eyed, their steel shoes skidding on the concrete outside the barn.
“Layne!” he said. “Don’t ”
“Take them!”
Then she flung the ropes at him, and he was lost in a rush of surging horseflesh.
And she was back in the barn.
He couldn’t catch the ropes quickly enough. The horses bolted for the path behind the barn, the path where he’d first met Layne, the path that led to the woods and safety.
He had no idea whether she was right about the whole herd animal thing, but the woods were better than the barn. He let them go, then dove into the cloud of smoke after her.
After the sunlight, the darkness of the barn was almost absolute. Sparks dripped from the ceiling, catching at loose straw and wood shavings to create small fires in his path. But most of the fire was overhead, in the hayloft, a pulsing glow that called to him through the smoke.
You’re here! Come play.
“Layne!” he yelled. The roar of the fire was a living thing, muting his voice. Horses were still screaming in the darkness a sound that had started as panic and now carried mostly pain.
He shouted her name again, dropping to his knees where the smoke was less dense though it didn’t help. The fire had found something new to burn, and metal cans were bursting somewhere to his left. He could smell chemicals.
Settle, he pleaded.
He hadn’t realized how much Hunter’s presence helped, how much another Elemental let him focus his power.
This was too much for him to handle alone.
“Layne!”
Nothing.
How could he have done this? His control was no better than when he’d killed his parents. And it was going to happen again.
He swept the aisle, going from side to side, using his hands to learn if she’d collapsed in here somewhere. He found all kinds of items he couldn’t identify no Layne. He heard a crash, and before he could identify the source, something heavy ran into him, knocking him aside. Hooves hit his rib cage; his head hit the wall. Metal horseshoes scrabbled at the concrete flooring, and then the animal was gone, tearing into the sunlight.
Gabriel coughed and rolled back to his knees, ignoring the new pain in his chest, the starbursts flaring in his eyes. He deserved a broken rib or two. A concussion.
He deserved to be trampled. To death.
“Layne!”
Fire rained down more steadily now. Bits of wood struck his back, his cheeks, his hands.
There was only one horse banging now, from what he could tell. Had they all escaped? Or had some died from the smoke, the heat?
Would he find Layne, or just a body?
Stop it.
Larger parts of the ceiling fell behind him, flaming planks of wood crashing into the aisle. Fire leapt onto the walls, into the open stall doors, catching the sawdust bedding and turning it into a carpet of flame.
What if Layne wasn’t in the aisle at all, but inside one of the stalls?
Help me, he begged the fire. Where is she?
But this fire didn’t care about people. It cared about the burn, the destruction, the pure energy.
Metal struck concrete again, and Gabriel scrabbled out of the way. Smoke swelled around the running animal, revealing a white head, soot-covered flanks, and then a tail swallowed up by the smoke.
No more banging.
Someone had let that horse out.
“Layne!” Gabriel dove forward. The horse had come down the center of the aisle, so he didn’t know which side to check first.
This new silence was terrifying.
He started left.
Closed door. Closed door. Open door but no Layne. Maybe it had been pushed open by one of the earlier horses.
The heat was scorching his lungs. He refused to think of what it must be doing to Layne’s.
He scurried across the aisle. Closed door. Closed door. Closed where the hell was she?
And then his hand came down on something solid.
A body.
She wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. When he put his hands on her face, he felt something wet blood, running from her hairline. Gabriel was choking on smoke, on tears, on saying her name. He had her in his arms, but it was like clutching a doll.
Power breathed in the air around him. A fierce contradiction to the lifeless girl in his arms.
He wanted to lie down and die beside her.
