The staggering pain stole her oxygen, contorted her features, and left her teeth clenched in anguish.
“Gaby!”
Aware of Luther trying to grasp her as she fled, Gaby sucked in harsh, too shallow breaths. But this was too critical, too excruciating, to be contained by mortal means. The efficacious pain rendered her oblivious to all but her purpose.
Once outside, her senses honed and Gaby broke into a full-out run. She didn’t have far to go. At the end of the block, consuming an old clapboard building, a red-hot conflagration dug fingers of heat into the sky with crimson terror.
Gaby heard the screams again, but they were silent screams trapped in her head, for her torment only.
That burning building held someone captive.
Gaby charged forward—and Luther tackled her from the side. They hit the pavement hard, him atop her; his considerable weight held her down.
Twisting her face around to see him, she met his resolve.
Pain eased, retracting its razor-sharp talons from her muscles and flesh, and at the same time, relieving her motivation to salvage an innocent life. Luther’s physical contiguity blunted what should have been an inviolable defense.
Her seldom summoned humanity reared up, urging her to free herself from Luther’s spell. Even with the demons gone, she knew what she had to do.
“Let me go, Luther.”
He knotted a hand in her hair. “God damn you, Gaby, do you want to die? You can not go in there.”
Closing her eyes and calming her mind against the residue of piercing cries, Gaby gathered her strength. When she opened them, Luther must have seen the purpose in her face.
He hardened himself and tightened his hold. “The building is empty.”
Sadly, she shook her head. “No, Luther, it’s not.”
Agony darkened his gaze. His fingers left her hair to pet her jaw, frantic to convince her. “The fire fighters will be here any minute. You can hear the sirens. If you just wait—”
“They’ll be too late.”
“Damn you,” he said, struggling with himself. “You can’t know that.”
“But I do.” Compulsion burned her worse than any flames could. “I need to go. And you need to let me.”
He shook his head. “Please don’t do this.”
“I have no choice.” And with that simple but veracious statement, Gaby dislodged Luther’s six-foot, three-inch powerful frame with remarkable adroitness. He landed on his back, stunned, and before he could recover, she’d crossed the street and broke through the crackling, blistering front of the building.
Indifferent to the smoke filling her lungs and the heat singeing her hair, Gaby wended her way through the front room. The curtains of swirling, belching smoke left her blind, but she knew right where to find the fallen body. She felt with her hands—and encountered human flesh.
The body was small, delicate—like Ann.
Knowing each second to be precious, Gaby levered her over her shoulder and ran hell-bent for escape from the engulfing fire. Wood splintered behind her. A wall crashed in.
Up ahead, a glowing egress shone among the smoke and flames. Without faltering, she sought escape.
The second she broke from the burning building and into the fresh air, Gaby collapsed to her knees, gladly relinquishing her load to waiting firemen. They moved with an economy of take-charge action. Hoses sprayed. Men issued orders. Noise escalated.
Please, she thought, watching as firemen carried an unconscious woman to an ambulance. Please let me have been in time.
Just then, she heard the woman cough—and then Luther was there, pulling her to her feet, urging her toward the open door of a cruiser. Mort hovered nearby, at the same time fretting and talking with Ann.
The pandemonium kept Gaby confused for a short time. Someone pressed an oxygen mask to her face while someone else did a cursory exam.
Shoving away the helping hands, Gaby lifted the mask. “The woman. . . . ?” Simple words left her choking, coughing and ready to throw up.
Luther stepped in front of the white-clothed man. “She wasn’t burned, but she inhaled a lot of smoke. She’s on her way to the hospital.” With infinite care, he threaded his fingers through her charred hair.
“Was I in time?”
The fingers briefly clenched. “I don’t know. We’ll find out soon.”
The paramedic spoke. “She should go to the hospital, too.”
Gaby freaked. “Fuck that. I’m fine.” Shoving aside the oxygen mask and knocking the paramedic away, she started to leave. Her reaction would only cause more alarm, but her astronomical fear of medical treatment kept her unable to temper herself.
“Gaby—”
“I said no.” She started walking, intent on leaving the scene before some damned do-gooder tried to strap her to a gurney.
The way she’d seen Father strapped down.
Cancer had stolen his thoughts, his personality, and left behind a stranger who required restraints.
Gaby gasped, and choked again.
Luther stepped in front of her. “Fine,” he said before she could draw back a fist. “You say you’re okay, then you’re okay. I believe you.”
Her chest hurt, and only part of it was from the smoke and excitement. “Do you?”
As black as a thundercloud, he dismissed the paramedic by saying to him, “We’re actually on our way to the hospital to see a friend.” His domineering attention swung back to Gaby. “If she’s not breathing easy when we get there, I’ll have her checked.”
Holding up both hands, the paramedic said, “Not what I’d recommend, but suit yourself.”
Shaken, feeling like a fool, Gaby closed her eyes and inhaled cautiously. “Thanks.”
“I need you to sit. I need you to stay.”
Her eyes snapped open again. “I am not your fucking pet.”
His left eye twitched. “Unless you want to explain what drove you to go into that building, I need to see what happened here. But I can’t do that if I don’t know you’re safe and waiting for me to finish.”
Looking beyond him, Gaby saw Mort and Ann watching. “I’m not explaining shit.”
Luther remained silent, and damn it, she felt guilty. But she couldn’t explain. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Fine. I’ll wait. But you could work a little on your verbal skills. Your idea of a request sucks.” Stomping despite her enervated state, Gaby left him growling and snarling, and went to Ann and Mort.
Mort stepped toward her. “God Almighty, Gaby. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She pointed to a less-crowded section of sidewalk. “I’ll be waiting over there for Luther. You know, if he looks for me or anything.”
Ann touched Mort’s arm. “Go with her. I’ll see what I can do about crowd control.”
Still in her robe, barefoot and hair loose, Ann took charge like an army sergeant. Wasted in mind and spirit, Gaby watched her, and admired her forceful manner and deep blue aura. “You’ve got a live one, Mort.”
“I know. She’s something, huh?”
“Her aura tells me that she’s doing just what she was meant to do. That’s good. Not many people ever find their true purpose.” Together, Mort and Gaby went to the curb and sank down on their butts.
Chewing her bottom lip, Gaby did her best to keep any further thoughts of Father at bay.
Mort’s hand slipped into hers. “That was pretty damned scary.”
Looking first at his hand, then his sincere face, Gaby frowned. “What?”
“Running into a burning building? It’s not what most people would ever do. In fact, I don’t know anyone else who’d do it.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“I know that. But have you thought about how you’re going to explain it to Luther? You know he’s going to ask how you knew a body was in there.”
“I know.” After what had happened with Bliss, he was already suspicious of her. But hell, it wasn’t like she could ignore the plea of the innocent, whether Luther Cross liked it or not.