Deadly Heat (Deadly 2)

Prologue

The fire came at him, fast and hot. The orange flames licked across the floor, climbed the walls, and rolled in hungry waves.

The screams filled his ears. His mother’s cries. She called for him, over and over, but he didn’t answer her. Couldn’t. The flames and smoke had stolen his breath, and all he could do was watch.

So beautiful. The flames danced for him. Danced and whispered. Crackled and rose. He couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

Smoke billowed around him, trapping him in a fog. His fingers curled tight over his precious prize. Won’t let go. Won’t ever let go.

The fire touched him, biting his arm, but he didn’t cry out.

He just watched.

And his mother stopped screaming. Just like his dad had stopped. He’d stopped long ago…

The flames were bigger. Rolling toward him now. Faster, faster. So hot. His lips began to curl.

Then the monsters came. Giant beasts with long noses, robot eyes, and tubes shooting from their mouths.

One grabbed him, slapping at his left arm, and he screamed.

But the monster didn’t let him go.

Water shot at the flames. Cold, icy water that hit his skin.

The monster’s arms were tight around him. And then the monster ran, taking him right through the thick smoke and letting him see those dancing flames again.

Again. More.

The fresh air hit him. He choked at the first taste and the monster was there, always there, but yanking off a mask and it was—

A man. “The kid’s alive! Get me some oxygen! Get the damn EMTs over here!”

More hands. Touching. Stroking. Hurting. Another man shoved a mask over his face. No, don’t want it, don’t want—

The mask pressed too hard against his nose and mouth.

The same man rubbed something ice-cold on his arm right over the fire’s kiss. Then the guy wrapped bandages around him and slapped tape around the edges.

They put him on a stretcher. As they hauled him toward an ambulance, he saw his house. Firefighters stood on the roof, swinging with their axes, sending fire and smoke billowing into the sky.

The windows at the front of his home exploded, and giant shards of glass flew onto the porch.

Firefighters ran out of the doorway, yelling. One had his mother in his arms.

She wasn’t moving, and her body…

He glanced down at his hand, still clenched so tight around his prize.

“It’s gonna be okay, boy. You’re gonna be fine…” This came from the man who’d pulled him out. A big guy, with red cheeks and dark green eyes. “You’re safe now.”

But his mom wasn’t. Neither was his dad.

A shout came, an order for backup, and the man turned away.

His fingers uncurled.

The match lay in his hand. The red tip was black now.

“Got to be arson, sir… the way the fire is spreading… accelerant…” Another firefighter, talking fast to a guy with a big radio.

He let the match slide from his fingers. It fell to the ground and sank into the grass.

“All right, kid.” The EMT was back. Looking pale, tense. “It’s time to get you to the hos—”

“My mom’s dead.”

The man swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at that fire. So bright now. “My dad, too?” He already knew.

“We got a call in to your grandparents—”

He didn’t cry. Didn’t blink.

“We’re gettin’ you to the hospital.” A woman appeared at his side. They lifted him up and put him in the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed closed, shutting out the fire.

But I wanted to watch. His lips tightened.

He looked at his palm. He could see the black marks from the match.

The siren screamed on.

And he smiled.

CHAPTER One

Choosing to run into a burning building probably wasn’t the smartest decision he’d ever made. Then again, sadly, it wasn’t his dumbest either.

Kenton Lake choked in a deep breath of air—already tasted the smoke—then lifted his arm over his mouth. Some jobs just sucked.

He went into the wall of smoke. Ah, hell.

His nostrils burned. Heat scored his flesh, but he heard the voice calling, the same voice that had lured him to the building, lured him across the street and into this inferno.

“H-help! Dammit, h-help me!”

His informer. Upstairs. In the middle of the flames and fury.

He jerked off his jacket, covered his mouth, and tried to stay as low to the floor as he could.

His eyes burned, and the ash and fire singed his nostrils. How the hell had this happened? He was investigating arson, not supposed to get drawn into—

Part of the ceiling fell behind him.

Kenton glared up at the long row of stairs. Ten-to-one odds they’d fall away before he got to the top.

Ten to one.

“H-help…”

Weaker.

He took the stairs. One. Two. Three.

And, yep, they gave way just when he reached stair number four. Kenton went down, hard. The broken wood bit into his arms and legs, and the fire flew toward him.

A blast of water shot out, hard and fast, slamming into the flames.

Someone grabbed him, hauled him up, and a hand locked tight around his arm. Kenton found himself staring right at a firefighter.

He caught a smoky glimpse of narrowed eyes behind a clear eye shield. Kenton had a fast impression of a thick, black helmet and a brown uniform—

The firefighter shoved him forward, obviously trying to send him toward the front of the building.

Hell, no.

More firefighters swarmed around him, battling the fire. Some struck out with axes, some scrambled into the rooms.

Couldn’t they hear the voice calling for help?

He tried to break free and jump for those stairs. There was a gap, he could make it, he might—

The firefighter who’d grabbed him before dragged him right back and gave a hard negative shake of that black helmet.

Screw that, he wasn’t leaving a victim behind—

He wrenched away.

Then the firefighter slugged him. Hard. Right in his jaw. Damn, one hell of a hit.

Kenton went down.

The firefighter’s arms wrapped around him. Another grabbed him. Another.

Then they dragged his ass out of the flames.

“Idiot!” The snarl came at him the minute the oxygen mask was shoved onto his face. Kenton looked up, gaze narrowed against the smoke that still burned his eyes, and saw the firefighter—the ass**le who’d slugged him—jerk off his helmet and mask—

Um, her helmet and mask. Not a man, there. No way.