I pressed my lips together. I knew we had a serial arsonist running loose, but I didn’t know how much Shikra had actually told him. And I didn’t want to spill any secrets she might have kept secret, like the letter. But I had the feeling I was going to have to, if only to keep other businesses on high alert.

Chase stared at me for a moment. “You know something.”

“What could I possibly know?” I gave him a fangy grin.

“Yeah, right. Tell me another one. Okay, we’ll play it your way.”

“Just for now, Chase. We’ll talk soon.”

“So if you and your sisters could suss out the building when they’ve—” He stopped as the fire marshal approached.

He gave me a confused look, but then turned to Chase. “It’s out, for all intents and purposes. They’re just taking care of some of the embers. We got here in time to prevent any major structural damage, I think. Most of it’s cosmetic. Will cost a bit to repair, but it’s not like…” Pausing, he glanced at me.

I decided to save him the trouble. No use pussyfooting around, and it wasn’t like I didn’t know all too well what had gone down at my own bar. “The Utopia isn’t fully destroyed, like my bar was.”

“Right, ma’am. As to what caused the flames, well, we discovered something in one of the back rooms. Cloths still soaked in accelerant. The flames hadn’t reached them yet. If they had, this whole building would have gone up like a bomb. Pretty clear this was arson. I’m now thinking that’s what happened to the Wayfarer, only we didn’t find the cloths because they burned up. I’ll send someone over to your building, see if we can find traces of whatever this substance is.”

Ten to one, they wouldn’t. Because if Lowestar was behind this, he was smart enough to cover his butt. There was no way they were going to find the firebug who set this mess. Or mine either.

But all I said was, “Call in a tech from the FH-CSI, Chase. That may not be of Earthside design.” I turned to the fire marshal. “So is it safe for us to go in and have a look around? I know it’s still hot, but no roof going to collapse, or anything like that?”

He sighed. “Johnson, you think we need their input now?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Chase gave him a dark look. “I don’t think we’re dealing with a simple arsonist. First, I’m convinced he’s serial. Second… trust my judgment on this.”

As the fire marshal shrugged and turned away, he said over his shoulder, “Fine. Go in at your own risk. Try to avoid the hot spots that are still smoking. Don’t make my men come rescue you.” Sounding tired, he walked away.

“He’s in a good mood.” I stared at his retreating back.

“He’s seen too many fires where somebody didn’t make it out alive, Menolly. He’s seen children burned to a crisp because their mothers were smoking in bed and fell asleep. He’s seen his men devoured by the flames when they went in to rescue someone who had sparked the fire by a home-based Z-fen lab. He’s seen houses go up like matchsticks thanks to the hoarders who refused to get help… too many deaths, too much destruction. Don’t blame him for being weary. He’s seen too much over the years. And I’ve been there, seen it all with him.”

I glanced up at the detective. His jaw was set, and his dark eyes were glimmering. A year ago, he’d been given the Nectar of Life in order to save his ass, and it had—but it had given him a thousand years to look forward to, and to fill. And it had sparked off the latent powers that we’d faintly sensed before. Turned out, he had elf in his background—far distant elf.

A thought struck me. “Are you worried about Tristan? The elf who started your bloodline?” Tristan lived in Elqaneve. No one had thought how this might affect Chase.

He caught my gaze, and for a moment, those wary shields dropped and I could see the naked concern on his face. “Yes, of course. I have hoped, ever since that visit, to find a time when we could sit and truly talk. He knows my heritage, my lineage, and perhaps can explain some of the things that have happened to me since I was first given the Nectar of Life.”

“I sense a but…”

“But… my concern, my heart… is somewhere within that makeshift hiding place they’re calling a palace, with the mother of my child. The woman I love.”

I face-palmed. Of course, he was worried about Sharah. “I’m so stupid. Forgive me.”

He shook his head. “Nothing to forgive. Too much going on. But, I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to Sharah. And yet—and yet—she’s now the Queen. They separated us, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to see Astrid or me again. They took her from me, Menolly. They stole her away, and while I understand why I had to let her go, that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

There was nothing I could say. So instead, I reached up on my tiptoes and did something I almost never did. I kissed him on the cheek, and stroked his hair.

“You keep hope, Chase. You keep that hope alive. My sisters—they kept the hope that I’d come out of my rage and fury the entire year I was being rehabilitated after Dredge got to me. They never gave up hope. I know this in my heart. You keep up hope for Sharah.”

He blushed. “But… even if the war ends. She’s Queen now. I can’t move to Otherworld, can I? You told me once, I’d pale and fade there. And now that she’s Queen, she can’t very well abdicate the throne.”

“Shush. Worry about that when it comes. For now, just know she loves you and misses you. And focus on giving Astrid all the love and joy she needs from both her mother and father. Okay?”

I wasn’t going to take the lame route, I wasn’t going to mouth platitudes like everything will be fine and it will all work out . . . but I could give him something to hold on to. And that something was his daughter. “Astrid needs you to be strong. She needs you to love her and give her hope that she’ll be with her mother again. Right?”

Chase regarded me solemnly. “You’re right. I have to focus on what I can do right now. Otherwise this will break me. It will interfere with me being the father Astrid needs, and it will interfere with my job.”

“Good then. Keep that thought. You know Iris will do all she can to help you—and we all will. Now, let me go get Camille and Delilah and we’ll see what we can find in the Utopia.” As I turned away, Chase lightly put his hand on my arm.

“Menolly?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful. Just… don’t get hurt in there. If there are ghosts…”

“If there are ghosts, we’ll go in there and kick their fucking asses to hell and back.” I winked at him, then strode over to where Camille and Delilah were watching the bustle as the firemen began to stow their gear.

Shade was standing nearby, keeping an eye on the general scene, and Bran was leaning against a lamppost, keeping an eye on Camille. Wonderful. He was going all stalker boy. When Smoky got back, we’d have to have the dragon take the Fae boy out back for a good ass-whipping.

“You guys ready? We’re going in.” I filled them in on what Chase and the fire marshal had told us. “Be careful. Camille, how are your shoes?” I glanced down at her feet. My sister had a predilection for stilettos and she’d often worn them fighting, but after a few days ago, in the race to escape from the fall of Elqaneve, she’d sworn off them for when we knew we were headed into a dangerous situation. Tonight, she’d put on her kitten-heel granny boots, and I saw that she was also dressed in her catsuit.

She noticed my appraisal. “Less chance of catching on fire without filmy skirts hanging near the floor.” With a grin, she curtseyed, the jingling of her silver belt a light tinkle against the incessant rain that was pouring down around us.

I snorted. “Let’s rock then.”

“Before you go in, put these on.” Yugi instructed several of the men to hand us hardhats equipped with built-in lights. They would not only protect our heads, but help us see. Roz had bought some of the same type of lights for us sometime back, but they were somewhere at home.

“Thanks, we left our gear at home.”

“Just don’t take any chances,” the Swedish empath said. He’d been working with Chase since the inception of the FH-CSI, and as second in command, he took his job seriously. Yugi had helped us out more than once.

As we headed into the building, I automatically scanned the ceiling, looking for loose timbers, tiles, anything that might dent somebody’s head. The hats would help put a stop to that, but we couldn’t be too careful.

I went first, given that I was the least likely to be hurt. Shade followed after me, then Camille, Delilah, and lastly, Bran.

As I stepped through the broken-in door, the acrid stench of smoke and soot hung heavy in the air, and behind me, Camille and Delilah started coughing. The roof was still standing, yes, and the walls, but the inside of the club had been gutted to the point of being unrecognizable. The beautiful, vibrant décor was now clogged with soot and smoke and water, forming muddy streams along the floor, streaking the walls, and saturating what little furniture remaining that hadn’t been destroyed. Most of the upholstered furnishings were gone, and the tables were charred and crisped. The booths were a disaster, and the bar had exploded as the liquor—there for sale to the FBHs and Supes who came along with the vamps—had gone up, one miniature fireball after another.

I stopped, flashing back to the Wayfarer. While I was grateful that the Utopia hadn’t suffered quite the same fate—especially with the loss of life—a little part of me wondered why it had to be my bar that had burned to the ground.

Camille let out a soft murmur. “It’s… there’s something in here with us. I can feel it and I’m not even trying.”

“She’s right,” Bran said, startling me. His voice was smooth, yet guttural, and it echoed through the shell of a room.

“What do you sense?” I hoped we could be forearmed. I was tired of being taken by surprise. But before they could say a word, a movement caught my eye and I turned. Out from the walls, and I do mean out from the walls—stepping directly through the solid drywall as if it were mere illusion—came five figures. They were bipedal, female by the look of their breasts, and they were composed of living flame. Burning brightly, with tongues of flames crackling off them, they looked like some CGI animated creatures, orange and yellow and all shades comprising fire.

As we stood there, staring at them, they moved toward us. Then one raised her hand, and a ball of fire lit up the air as she sent the orb heading in our direction.

“Holy fuck!” Camille yelled as she dove to the right. De-lilah dropped to the floor. I wasn’t sure what Bran and Shade were up to because, before I realized what I was doing, I raced forward toward the woman, and the next thing I knew, I had knocked her to the ground, trying to get hold of her.

Her skin burned my fingers, and I realized she truly was living flame. And that was when it dawned on me that I was in serious trouble. I tried to scramble away, but she caught hold of my wrist, and as my skin began to ignite, I realized I was about to die the final death.

Chapter 5

“Menolly!” Delilah’s scream cut through the night.

Before she could say anything else, Shade shot past her, and the next thing I knew, I was in some dark, veiled space. Shade held me tight against him. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think—it had all happened so fast. And then I realized we weren’t in the room with the fire creatures. And the flames on my arm were gone. Before I could wrap my head around this little fact, everything shifted again and we were back with the others, but in a different spot from where I’d been when he first grabbed me.

There wasn’t time to figure out what had happened. Instead, I leapt up, looking around to assess the situation.

Delilah had backed away, and Camille was shooting some sort of spell at the fire beings, who were still lobbing fireballs. Bran had moved around to the side, but even he looked confused, his sword at the ready. He was smart enough to know, as was Delilah, that physically engaging these creatures wasn’t going to do much good beyond getting a nasty third-degree burn.

Camille shouted in frustration. “We need Smoky! Or… Iris.” Her energy bolts were disrupting their progress but not stopping them. In fact, I had the nasty suspicion that the only reason they paused as she tossed bolt after bolt toward them, was to quite possibly absorb the energy into their own power.

“We can’t ask Iris—” Delilah started to say but then stopped.

“We have no choice. We have to have someone with her power because whatever these creatures are, we don’t seem to have the wherewithal to fight them.”

“Water! The fire hoses!” I didn’t know if it would work or not, but I raced back outside and frantically motioned to Chase. “We need fire hoses, at full force. Now!”

Chase barked out an order, and three of the firemen who were still stowing their gear pulled the hoses out again and, within sixty seconds flat, had coupled them back up and were following me.

By now, Camille and the others were backing away. The figures were still coming. In their wake, their bodies had started up the fires again as they passed through the still smoldering ruins. I shouted for everyone to get out of the way and we backed to the sides as the fireman pushed through into the building again.

As the fire creatures came through, two abreast, then two more, then one in the rear, I motioned to the firemen and they let loose with the hoses. The water struck them full force, and at first, they wavered. I thought they were going to be swept off their feet, but somehow, the fiery women managed to keep upright. Slowly, they began to make headway against the onslaught of pressure.