She was there! Now settle in. Then start to push. What had Trask said? “Firestorm isn't that powerful.”
“Not yet. Give me another five years and I'll have it ready. The ultimate power. You'd be impressed. Too bad you're not going to be around to see it.”
She braced herself. Could she do it? Only one way to find out.
Push!
He didn't seem to notice. “I can't tell you how I regret not letting you—”
Suggest, not demand, Silver had said.
Push. Smoke. Dizzy.
Trask shook his head as if to clear it. “That smoke coming in the window must be pretty thick.”
Thank you, God. “I didn't notice.”
Smoke. Lungs tight. Eyes stinging. “Usually I don't notice either. I . . . like it.”
Lungs hot, hurting. Push. Push. Push.
“I'll get a glass of water. That will probably make me feel better.” He rose to his feet and went to the sideboard and poured water from a pitcher into a glass. “Drinking is the only good use for water, you know. I detest it in principle.”
Throat tightening. Choking.
He started hacking. “Christ. I can't even . . . swallow. I guess I'll have to close it. Too bad.” He moved toward the window across the room.
Throat tighter. Lungs burning.
“Christ, I can't . . . breathe.” He shoved the remote into his pocket as he fumbled at the window.
Keep it going. Searing pain in the lungs.
Was he framed against the window? What if he got the window down and moved away? Christ, what if Silver didn't have enough time?
Push.
“Shit.” Trask jerked his hands away from the window. “It's hot, dammit.”
“What do you expect when you spend your life setting fires? You're bound to get burned sometime.” Keep his hands busy and away from that remote. “Try again.”
“Are you crazy?” He moved away from the window. “I can't touch that sill without something to protect me. Maybe we should go outside. The smoke's probably less in front.”
And it would be harder for Silver to get his shot with a moving target, dammit.
“Come on.” He moved toward the front door. “Get going.”
I almost had him.” George started to curse as Trask disappeared from view. “Two seconds more and I would have had him in my sights.”
“Keep a bead on the window,” Silver said. “He'll be back.”
“It's your call. But I wish I was that sure,” George said. “Sometimes you only get one chance.”
He wasn't sure, Silver thought. If Kerry had lost control, then she might not be able to get it back. Every instinct told him to rush into that house and forget this damn waiting game.
Give her more time. Trust her.
God, he hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
What are you waiting for?” Trask looked over his shoulder at Kerry as he reached the front door. “I told you we're getting out of here.”
“I'm coming.” She slowly rose to her feet. She had to keep him inside. If he went out on the front porch she couldn't be sure what he'd do. Hell, maybe he'd decide to activate Firestorm from his van. Keep control. Stop panicking. She could do this.
“Going outside is probably a good idea.” She moved toward him. “I can't breathe either. Do you think the smoke will be less there?”
“It can't be—” He broke off, coughing. Push. Lungs throbbing as he reached the front door. Eyes stinging, tearing.
He stopped. “Maybe not. It seems heavier here by the door.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
Push. The window. The window.
“What I should have done before. Close that damn window.” He jerked a doily from the chair and strode toward the open window. “I'll just use this to protect my hands.”
“Yes, you do need protection.”
“What?” He looked over his shoulder but he reached out for the window, framed again in the lighted opening. “Why are you smiling?”
“Am I smiling?” If she was smiling, then it was with savage satisfaction. “I wonder why? Maybe it's because you're not going to be God after all.”
“Why do you—”
The impact of the bullet drowned out his words.
“No!” He jerked as the bullet struck him in the chest. “Shit.” He was falling, but even as his knees buckled he was reaching for the remote in his pocket. “I won't let you—”
She was across the room in a heartbeat. She knocked his hand away and grabbed the remote. “No way, you bastard.”
“Bitch,” he whispered. “You won't win. Won't let you—”
“I've already won. You're a dead man, Trask.”
The hatred in his mind was overwhelming. Even in this final moment there was no fear of death. Only fire and darkness and a thirst for revenge.
Swirling.
Poison.
Fire.
“Get out.” It was Silver's voice, Silver standing beside her. “What the hell are you still doing in his mind? Get out!”
She couldn't get out. She was chained, held by the sheer power of evil in the center of Trask's being.
“Let him go!” Silver said.
Trask's eyes were glazing over, but she sensed somewhere, somehow, he suddenly knew. He smiled. “You're . . . caught. . . . Told you I'd win. Coming . . . with me.”
“The hell she is.” Silver was there between them. “Hold on, Kerry.”
She screamed in agony as she was torn free and spiraled wildly into darkness.
It's okay, Kerry. Wake up, dammit.”
She opened her eyes to see Silver's face over her. “I'm . . . awake.” She sat up, her gaze on Trask. His eyes were still open, but his face was twisted in the final death rictus. “Gone?”
“Dead as a doornail.” He stood up and helped her to her feet. “May he burn in hell.”
Her knees felt weak, and she held on to him for a moment before she could stand alone. “No fire and . . . brimstone. He'd . . . like that too much.”
“Sit down.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “You're still not good.”
“Better than if you hadn't pulled me out of that bastard.” She sank down in the easy chair. “Where's George?”
“After he took his shot at Trask, he bolted and went after Ki Yong.” He hesitated. “I should go see if I can help him.”
“Then do it. I'll rest for a few minutes and then go release Jason and my father. They're tied up in a bedroom upstairs. Don't worry, I'll be fine.”
His gaze raked her face. “Yes, you will.” He turned and headed for the door. “This shouldn't take long. I probably won't get there in time to be of use to George. He moves pretty fast.”
She leaned back and closed her eyes after he left the room. Lord, she felt weak.
She took another couple minutes to gather her strength. She was drained. It seemed impossible that it was over, that the evil that was Trask had vanished from the earth.
But Jason didn't know he was safe, and it wasn't fair to leave him in ignorance.
She slowly got to her feet and moved sluggishly toward the kitchen. Find a knife to cut the ropes and then go upstairs and free them. Where was the cutlery drawer? The smoke seemed heavier in here. She opened three drawers before she found a butcher knife.
She heard it as her hand closed on the hilt of the knife.
Crackling.
Above her, through the ceiling of the kitchen.
Where the bedrooms were located on the second floor.
She stiffened. “No!”
She whirled and ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Smoke, everywhere. Not from the barn. Here in the house!
You still won't win, Trask had said. The bastard had set a timer to go off automatically on Firestorm if he didn't press the remote.
Flames licking the banisters of the staircase just as they had in Jason's house in Macon.
No, it was more like the fire in the brownstone all those years ago.
Mama, where are you?
Right behind you. Get help, Kerry.