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“Good girl,” he murmured. She hadn't failed the test—yet. Kerry had figured out where the warehouse was located, but she wasn't going to get here in time to save the target. All he had to do was press the switch in his hand and get out of here. Too bad he couldn't stay and enjoy the fruits of his planning, but there would be firemen and police all over the place in minutes.

Kerry had cheated him out of that pleasure. It was strange that he felt no anger toward her. In fact, there was pride mixed with his disappointment. A pride resembling the way he felt when he saw Firestorm at work.

But he had to inflict the same disappointment, to make her realize that she hadn't really succeeded. It was only fair.

He pressed the red switch.

Smoke!

Carmela woke with a start, struggling for breath.

The office was filled with smoke so thick she could barely see. But what she did see terrified her. A red glare outlined the door across the room.

Fire.

Holy Mother of God, she was going to die.

No. She wouldn't die. Find a way out.

She was on her feet, running toward the door.

She threw it open.

The hall was a blazing inferno. The flames were eating the stairs going down to the first floor like a hungry beast. The fire was traveling at an incredible speed, already igniting the second floor.

But the stairs going up to the roof were untouched—so far.

She started toward the staircase.

Heat.

Searing heat.

She reached the stairs and started up them. She could see a door at the top of the winding staircase.

What if that door was locked?

No choice.

Sweet Jesus, the steps behind her were blazing.

Oh, God, let the door be unlocked.

Kerry and Silver were still five minutes away when Kerry heard the distant wail of sirens.

Relief soared through her. “They're on their way. They must be almost—”

Pain.

Tearing through her temples.

Swirling down into darkness.

Ugliness.

Filth.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

“Kerry?”

She couldn't answer. Fire was licking, swirling around her and . . . him. Trask. They were together, and Firestorm was—

“Kerry.” This time it was a demand from Silver. “Fight it. Fight him.”

Fight him. Yes, she couldn't be pulled into that darkness. She struggled. Hard. So hard.

Free.

Yet not free.

“What's happening?” Silver asked.

“He's done it,” Kerry whispered. “He wanted to wait until I got there, but he was worried about being discovered.”

“He ignited the warehouse?”

“Yes. He was in the building across from the warehouse, but he's out in the street now.”

“Where?”

“Back door. Not the street where the warehouse—” She closed her eyes. “Jesus, he's thinking about Carmela. He's wishing— No way out for her. But he wanted to see it.”

“Why isn't there a way out for her?”

“He started the fire on the floor where she was sleeping. Firestorm travels too fast . . .” She was shaking. “She's going to die. He knows she's going to die.”

“I'm going to call Ledbruk and see if he can intercept Trask. Tell me where he is.”

“She's going to die,” she whispered.

“Kerry.”

“He's two blocks away and getting into a dark-gray van. He's driving away. He's looking back over his shoulder and he can see the warehouse. It looks like one big pillar of fire. No one could get out of that building. He's very satisfied. He's imagining Carmela in the fire. Her flesh is burning, blackening—”

“Okay, get away from him.”

“She's going to die.”

“Kerry, can you see the license number of his van?”

“No, I can only see what he sees.”

She was vaguely aware of Silver dialing, talking on the phone. Then she couldn't hear anything but Trask.

Firestorm. Biting, tearing, devouring. The child was doing well. He hoped Kerry had reached the fire and could feel the power. Someday they would have to stand together and watch—

He was gone.

And the darkness and pain vanished with him.

“Out of range?”

She realized Silver's gaze was fastened on her face. “I guess. He's not there anymore.”

“You stayed with him a long time.”

“Did I?” She hadn't been aware of the passage of time. “Did you reach Ledbruk?”

“Yes. They've put an all-points bulletin out on a gray van. Can you remember any of the streets he passed?”

She shook her head. “Not when he was thinking about Carmela. It was too— Oh, my God.” They had turned the corner and she saw the warehouse. “He's right,” she whispered. “A pillar of flame.” She could feel her stomach knot. How could anyone survive in that fire?

Stop being a defeatist. She'd fought enough fires to know that many times people miraculously survived in conditions that seemed impossible.

Carmela needed a miracle.

“She's not dead yet,” Silver said as he parked a short distance behind the fire truck. “Scared shitless, but not dead.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “You're sure?”

“I couldn't help but be sure. Her mind's screaming bloody murder. I couldn't close her out if I wanted to.”

In Kerry's desperation she'd forgotten for the moment that Trask's ability to block Silver's intrusion was the rare exception. Of course he'd be able to reach Carmela. “She's all right?”

“Her back is burned. She couldn't get the door to the roof open. She thought it was locked, but it was only stuck. But it took her long enough that the fire reached her. She had to roll on the cement once she broke out onto the roof.”

Her gaze searched the top of the building. The entire warehouse was engulfed, and she could barely see the low brick parapet surrounding the roof for the billowing clouds of smoke. “She's up there? Why doesn't she come to the edge and try to call out?”

“She's scared and almost in shock. She's curled up in the corner behind an air-conditioning unit.” He paused. “But she doesn't have much time. She's thinking the roof is hot beneath her legs. She doesn't realize it's going to cave.”

“Then tell her.”

“It's not that easy. I'm dealing with hysteria, and I'm not familiar with her mind.”

“You said you liked to fix things. Well, fix her, dammit. Save her. Make her do what you want her to do.”

“Then tell me how those firemen can get her down.”

She tried to think. “No helicopter. Too dangerous with those flames practically engulfing the roof. No ladder. She'll have to jump.”

“Where?”

“Not much choice. South side of the building would allow them more room to set up. If the wall keeps standing.”

“And if I can talk her into jumping. The parapet has to be scorching hot, and there are flames licking at it. She'll know there's a good chance she'll be burned.”

“Are you saying you won't try?”

“No.” He got out of the car. “I'm saying that you'd better get your ass in gear and try to talk those firemen into setting up for a jump. If I do get her off that roof, I want someone ready to catch her.” He leaned against the SUV, his gaze on the roof. “Move.”

12

Hurt.

Carmela whimpered as she drew closer to the air conditioner. The metal was turning hot. The whole world was turning hot.

It's not hot down in the street.

Can't get there. Stairs are gone.

Jump. They're waiting for you.