Chapter 29
Hayden’s grip becomes punishing.
“Run. Now,” he snarls, pulling me out into the hall.
“What about the vault?” I gasp, and I start coughing harder. How is this possible? Where’s the smoke even coming from? “Don’t you want to grab some more—”
Hayden and I are blown back onto the carpet as a column of fire blasts out of our bedroom, shattering the door from its hinges. I watch in horror as flames curl around the doorjamb like fingers, licking out into the open hallway, as if scenting prey.
“Fuck the vault,” Hayden chokes. “You’re the vault.” He sounds terrified, and that’s somehow scarier than this fire. His arms scoop around my middle and suddenly we’re flying down the hall toward the music room, coughing and gagging.
Hayden’s fast. Even for a vampire, he’s fast.
Which is why it’s unbelievably horrifying when we reach the music room and see through the shimmering French doors that flames have already engulfed the room from within. I only have a moment to register that the harpsichord is consumed in fire when Hayden tightens around me.
“Brace yourself,” he roars, spinning us around and shielding me with his body just as the glass doors shatter from the heat, raining melting shards all around us. “Chapel,” he says, and we launch down the hall.
The smoke is growing, our visibility shrinking. Our saving grace is Hayden’s speed and strength, but even that is flagging, the fire and smoke taking a toll.
And no matter how fast Hayden has been—the fire has been faster.
I’m half sprinting, half carried around the corner. Hayden brings us to a stop as we face the long hallway lined with stained-glass windows. The air shimmers with heat, smoke curling like a snake against the walls. A sinister glow lights the hall, the roses shivering.
But where’s the fire?
I look up at Hayden, find him gray faced, the shadows beneath his eyes sharp.
They fly wide, and I look back to the chapel doors in time to see a plume of fire burst from them like a dragon’s mouth.
All at once, the glass roses melt down the wall, the petals liquefying into bloody, viscous red before shattering into a million pieces.
The burst windows suck at the smoke and fire, giving us just enough time for Hayden to dash back the way we came.
“The kitchen,” he gasps, ragged, as I hang on to his neck, squeezing my eyes shut against the thickening smoke. He scoops me up and we’re on our feet again, flying down the stone hall that leads to the kitchen.
The air is caustic with smoke. Even with the scarf pulled up over my nose, with my eyes half squinted, every breath makes me gag and choke. Coughed-up phlegm and spit coat my chin and neck, my eyes soaked with vinegar tears. Hayden stops us just outside the kitchen galley.
“I don’t need a break,” I rasp. “I can keep going.”
Hayden doesn’t respond. Just sags against the doorjamb. That’s when I realize: We’re stopping because he can’t keep going. That’s when the cold, true fear enters me. I can die now and still come back.
But he can’t.
I grab the lapels of his jacket. “Hayden,” I plead, looking up at him, sensing his face in the dark.
A column of flame bursts out of the ceiling.
I see it before Hayden does. My body knows what to do before I do: With all my might, I shove Hayden hard into the kitchen and launch myself backward just as the ceiling collapses, sending several sharp wooden beams down to impale the spot where Hayden stood a heartbeat before.
“Fuck. Rose!” I hear Hayden call from beyond the debris.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” I scramble to my feet. I feel the kiss of something fresh and cold against my cheek. I look over, see the ceiling collapsed all down the hallway, and there, possibly big enough to crawl out of, is a hole in the wall. “I think I see a way out!” I call.
“Take it. I’ll use the kitchen tunnels!” His voice sounds weak.
“But—”
“Rose. Go. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” There’s a terrible pause. “I will find you.”
“I love you,” I gasp. “Don’t say it back until you can see my face.” I whirl around, press my scarf to my nose, and hunch against the blast of smoke and heat.
I follow the blissful ice of fresh wind, catching cleansing sips of it every so often. There’s another blast of flame, a crash behind me, and I fall to my knees, narrowly avoiding getting my head taken off by a careening beam of steel.
I crawl on my hands and knees toward the hole in the wall, the hallway shrinking with debris. I’m so close, so close.
You’ll survive this, I tell myself. You can do this.
I’m ten feet away from the exit when I hear it.
A feeble meow behind me.
I whirl around, see nothing but a wall of flames, piles of broken rock and drywall, shattered beams of wood and rebar.
“Winston?” I croak. There’s another pathetic meow.
I only spare the exit a single glance before tightening the scarf around my face and doubling back.
I reach the pile of meowing rubble and dig feverishly, splitting my nails against shards of concrete, splinters embedding in my finger pads. I lift up a piece of plaster and find two wide, scared eyes blinking up at me.
“Oh, Winston,” I sob, picking up the quivering kitten and tucking him inside my shirt. I crawl back toward the exit one-armed, holding the little shivering body tight against me. I got you, I think. Hayden’s gonna make it. I’m gonna make it. You’re gonna make it.
Ten feet away. Six feet away.
The air is colder and fresher at my front. I can feel the rubber of my shoes melting from the flames behind.
Two feet away. My palm sinks onto a nail, and I scream, but keep going, keep going.
I spill out into the night, the snow blissful and cutthroat in the temperature difference, so much colder out here than inside the hell of the mansion.
I claw my way on all threes into the snow. I don’t stop until I can’t move another inch. I collapse onto my back, gasping and choking, spittle spilling out of the corner of my mouth.
Winston goes rigid against me, his yellow eyes flying open. He hisses at something above me, launches out of my sweater, and disappears into the snow. I sit up, tears springing to my eyes.
“Winst—” Someone grabs my hair, yanking back painfully. I scream, kicking hard, but the pain only sharpens into something cruel as I’m dragged backward by the roots of my hair. I look up at my attacker and freeze.
“Bianca?” I wheeze, my throat in shreds. Bianca doesn’t respond. Her face is calm, her eyes nearly all black. Determined. I thrash wildly, clawing against the dirt, fighting to break free from her grip on my hair, but she’s strong. Too strong. I stand no chance to break her hold.
“Why?” I gasp, tears blinding me. “Please, please let me go!”
Suddenly, Bianca does. She drops me on my back. I’m blinking up at the sky, confused, when an upside-down face appears in my field of vision.
“Happy birthday, Rose.” Julian grins, and his teeth and fangs are red.
I choke in horror and try and scramble backward from him, clumsy and slow.
Julian’s handsome face is sharp and cruel in the flickering orange of the burning manor behind me.
His eyes slide lazily from me to Bianca, who joins his side.
“You did so good, gorgeous,” he murmurs into her hair, and I see a spark of yearning in her dark eyes.
“If you’re trying to torture me, congrats. Goal accomplished,” I spit, looking away.
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t be jealous.” In a visible blur, he rushes over to me and crouches until we’re eye level. “My condolences, by the way. I’ve got Chris waiting at the tunnel exit. Just in case Hayden survives. Which he won’t. Made sure of that.”
I kick his face as hard as I can. He’s not expecting it, so I land a blow on his cheek. Rage erupts on his features. He snarls and catches my foot when I go in for another kick.
“And here I thought you were so sweet.” Julian jabs a thumb at Bianca behind him, who drops her eyes to the ground. “This one was too easy. Thought you would be too. Sweet little Rose, so uncertain, so helpless in class. So easy to get worked up with a single touch.”
“You’re pathetic,” I spit. Keep him talking, I think desperately. Keep him talking until Hayden makes it through the tunnels, fights Chris, gets here.
“All talk, darling.” Julian’s smile gets strained, though. “Call me pathetic all you want, but look what I did.” He eyes the fire over my shoulder. “Look what I can do.”
Julian makes a sharp, deliberate movement with his arm.
There’s a roaring sound from the manor, and I look over my shoulder.
A bolt of fire leaps from the conflagration, following the arc of Julian’s arm to the giant hemlock at his side.
The missile of flame lands on the huge trunk and explodes the tree.
Swords of branches rain down all around us. Bianca dodges one in the nick of time, looking horrified. Julian sinks to his knees in front of me and grips my chin so hard I know he’ll leave bruises.
“Careful, now.” His voice is deadly quiet. His eyes have no humanity left in them. “I’d hate to sentence you to eternal damnation.”
The fight in me is swallowed by cold fear. My heartbeat skyrockets, and Julian’s stare ignites with hunger, going to my neck.
“Why?” I whisper. “You owe me an explanation.”
Julian’s expression goes flat. Soulless. He drags a finger down my cheek. “The butcher doesn’t owe anything to the pig.” His mouth goes to my neck.
I feel the scrape of his teeth and brace myself for the sharp bite of his fangs when he suddenly disappears in a blur. I scramble to my feet, hope coursing through me as I watch Julian land thirty feet away.
Gentle hands turn my face. Hayden, gorgeous, perfect Hayden, whose face is smeared with ash and hollow with exhaustion and smoke, tracks terrified eyes over my entire body.
“I love you,” he rasps, now that he can see my face.
“Thank god, thank god,” I gasp, throwing my arms around him.