TORCH (23 page)

T
he man in the black baseball cap is moving quickly, splashing fluid from a white jug in wide arcs as he backs out of a dark room and up the stairs. When he reaches the door, he stops, apparently listening. Then he opens the door a crack and peeks outside. Finally he steps out, closes the door behind him, and heads around to the back of the house, picking up speed when he hears the crunch of boots on gravel. I can see two men now. Black Hat behind the house, and another man in a lighter baseball cap at the side door, who presses on the doorbell, waits, and then knocks. Black Hat kneels by a window, carefully pulls out the screen, and with a quick flick of his wrist, sends a fireball into the basement. It hits the window frame as it goes in, sending off a spray of faintly pink sparks. Inside, it explodes on contact. Flinging the screen high into the trees in the next yard, Black Hat runs to the back fence and scales it, disappearing into the night. Meanwhile, the other man has pushed back his cap to scratch his head. It’s my dad. I want to warn him, but I can’t make a sound. When he puts his hand on the doorknob, however, I can tell by the way he touches it that he knows exactly what’s going on inside. He flings the door open and stands there, silhouetted in flame, and yells, “HUX!”

Gasping, I reach for the phone and text Kai. But my thumb hesitates over “send.” We’re on a break. I proposed the break, and he agreed to it—a little too quickly for my liking. I was hoping he’d fight me, at least a little. Instead he said he understood, and that a couple of weeks apart wouldn’t change how he felt. He started to hug me, then stepped back, and we parted without even a kiss goodbye.

We agreed not to call, but didn’t mention texting. I guess it was understood that a break is a total break. Texting is still reaching out, keeping the emotional link alive.

Dropping the phone, I pull open a drawer and reach for my fire retardant clothes. Whether or not it’s permissible to text Kai is beside the point at the moment. The point is that there’s a fire and I dreamed about it after we’ve been apart three days. The point is something I don’t want to think about right now. And even if I wanted Kai to come along to help me, I couldn’t ask, because Black Hat is a Torch who wouldn’t think twice about killing Kai. In fact, if he’s after Hux, he wouldn’t think twice about killing me, either. He’s an equal opportunity assassin.

By the time I look up Hux’s address and pull out of the driveway, I’ve lost valuable minutes. I may be dreaming again, but I’m still slow off the mark. I try to make up for it by pushing the pedal to the floor, but it doesn’t matter. The fire trucks and an ambulance are already parked outside Hux’s place when I arrive. I park well back, using the binoculars I left under the back seat. Dad is standing beside a stretcher, talking to someone with highlighted hair. There’s an oxygen mask over Hux’s face, but he’s trying to pull it off, and Dad is restraining him. As they struggle, Uncle Rick walks up and says something to my dad. There are cops all around, talking mostly to each other, watching Dad and Hux.

Dad must be on their radar again. But since there is nothing I can do to change things, I turn the car around and head home.

It’s dusk when Regan and I creep into the backyard of Hux’s vacant house. “This is a bad idea, Phee,” she says, clutching my sleeve as we duck under the yellow police tape. “You do not want to be seen sneaking around here.”

“I know, I know. It won’t take long. I just need to confirm one little thing and we’re out of here.”

Crouching, I peer at the frame around the empty window, trying not to stare into the black hole that contained Hux’s possessions, including some very expensive skateboards that he was literally in tears over when I visited him in the hospital earlier.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Regan asks.

“This.” I point to a small, darkened indentation in the metal of the frame. It’s not much more than a smudge, but it’s the proof I needed that my dream was on the mark.

“What is it?” Regan asks.

“A scorch mark.” I run my index finger over it, hoping some insight will strike me. It doesn’t.

Regan stares at me, puzzled. “I’m sure there’s plenty more inside.”

I shake my head. “This is from a fireball.”

“Are you saying a Torch did this?”

“I saw it in my dream.”

A grin flashes across her face. “You’re dreaming again.”

“You say that like that’s a good thing,” I mutter.

The grin falters, but sticks. “Well, it is, in some ways. But I guess it confirms Kai was sapping your powers. And now you’re in a bind.”

“Yeah. Give up my boyfriend, so that I can keep people like Hux safe, or be with the guy I love and watch people drop like flies. All because some Torch has gone rogue.”

Standing, I pull Regan to her feet and lead her quickly down the driveway. We climb into the Jeep and head over Roy’s Deli, where I slump in a booth, and order a vanilla milkshake.

“You going to drink that or just play with it?” Regan asks, watching me swirl the milkshake with a straw.

“I don’t have much of an appetite lately,” I say. In fact, since my break with Kai started, my clothes have gotten loose. I burn a lot of calories, and if I don’t eat, the weight falls off me.

Regan pushes her diet soda aside, takes my milkshake and sticks her own straw in it. “No point letting it go to waste,” she says.

She’s been so careful about what she eats lately, that it makes me suspicious. “How’s it going with Flynn?”

Scrunching her face, she says, “He’s been distant, lately. Not calling as much. I haven’t seen him in a week.”

“It’s too soon to worry,” I say, wondering if he’s moved onto the next girl already.

“What if it’s because I wasn’t ready to...” Her voice trails off and she pushes the milkshake away.

“I highly doubt that, Ree,” I say. “But if he’s tired of waiting after—what, a month?—he’s not the right guy for you.”

Her sigh says she’s gone the distance in her imagination, and Flynn is exactly the right guy for her. I get that. I’ve travelled the same highway.

“Last time we got together he was so distracted,” she says. “That’s the hardest part. I’m afraid I bored him.”

“Guys just get caught up in their own worlds.” I take a sugar packet out of the bowl and start playing with it. “They don’t realize how much we can read into a silence. Kai could just be worrying about his math test and I go straight to the break up place.”

Regan laughs. “Must be easier to be a guy.”

“Definitely.”

“So, about this fire,” Regan says, pushing her worries aside to focus on mine. “What did you see in the dream?”

“The usual guy doing the usual things,” I say. “Only he got interrupted before he lit the fire, because my dad showed up. So he shot the fireball in through the window and took off.”

“You couldn’t see his face?”

I shake my head. “It’s frustrating. All I ever get is an overhead perspective. He seems tall and fit, but other than that, he could be almost anyone.”

“Why do you think your dad went over to Hux’s at that time of night, before the fire even started?”

“Probably to discuss Torch business,” I say.

I can predict the next question before she asks. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“Not yet. If I tell him what I saw, he’ll put me on lockdown. I wouldn’t put it past him to hire a babysitter.”

“Maybe you could send in an anonymous tip about the fireball and let the police put the pieces together. Chief Larken would be all over it.”

“There’s not enough for anyone to go on, yet. I’m probably in the best position to figure out what this guy is up to. All I need is one lucky dream.”

“But he’s getting more and more dangerous,” she says. “It’s amazing no one’s died yet.”

“My biggest worry is that he knows someone’s onto him and is getting nervous. Nervous means sloppy.”

“And sloppy means you’re even more at risk.” She reaches over touches my arm. “Phee, I’m your best friend. I can’t just—”

“Give me a bit longer, Ree. This guy’s accelerating. And if I stay away from Kai, my dreams will get sharper again. It won’t be long till I can tag him. So please don’t tell your dad.”

“But—”

“I honestly don’t think they can find him any sooner. And you know how important this is to me. If I can’t fix it, I can’t see Kai.”

“It’s bigger than Kai,” Regan says.

I manage to grin at her. “Nothing is bigger than Kai to me.”

H
ux is sitting in the lifeguard chair when I let myself into the pool at ten p.m.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “Taking me to the hospital was ridiculous. Torches don’t suffer from smoke inhalation.”

“Well, you looked pretty out of it when you were fighting off my dad.”

“That was from the sedative the arsonist used,” he says, swinging down from the chair. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Too late,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

"Don't be sorry," he says. I figured you weren’t up to snuff yet, or you’d have shown up sooner. I'm here to help you practice. But first you have to promise me you’ll get back in the pool. Swimming will make you stronger than anything else you can do.”

Although the thought of fighting through water is completely unappealing, I know it will give me stamina. So I agree to Hux’s condition, and after I swim a few laps, my proper training begins at last.

The next hour is exhilarating. Hux drapes a fire retardant blanket over a chair to use as a target, and demonstrates fire throwing techniques, all of which I suck at, unfortunately.

“You’ll get better,” he assures me.

“It only works when I’m mad,” I say.

“If you need to use your abilities, you damn well
should
be mad. So put yourself in the same headspace when you’re practicing.”

I try his turn-and-shoot move again, and while I manage to fire, the fireball misses its target by yards.

“Again,” he says. “Think about this: the arsonist is creeping up behind your dad and he’s going to—”

I turn instantly and zap the target.

“Good,” Hux says. Then he makes me repeat all the other moves, with the same mindset. “Wow,” he says, when we’re done. “You’re motivated. And I don’t think it’s just about your boyfriend.”

“It’s not,” I say. “I want you to show me how to knock out his fire. Like you did with mine that time.”

“That’s pretty advanced,” he says.

“Like you said, I’m motivated.”

Hux tries to lob his shots, but I get hit again and again, because I can’t move out of the way fast enough. Luckily, my resistance to fire is still intact. I get slightly scorched, but my skin heals over quickly.

“Let’s pick it up another night,” Hux says, sensing my frustration.

“No, I need to be able to fight fire with fire,” I insist.

He stares at me. “You think the arsonist is a Torch?”

“I think I need to be prepared for anything. And I may not have much time. So can we keep going?”

“Phee, you’ve got me worried. I can’t in good faith let a newbie deal with an experienced Torch. Your dad and the rest of us are trying to take care of this guy. You need to stand down.”

“I want to be able to protect myself,” I say. “Just in case. So take me as far as you can. Please, Hux.”

He paces on the deck for a few moments and relents. “Obviously, if a Torch is out to get you, you’re in deep trouble. Keep in mind that his goal will be to disarm you. Literally. You heal fast, but even if you’re down for a few minutes, he can overwhelm you.”

We try again, and again he hits me several times. “I’m useless,” I say, despairingly.

Hux laughs. “You’re a helluva lot better than I was at your age. But you need to remember it’s a state of mind. If this guy came after me, your dad could be next.”

That thought helps me focus, and the next time Hux shoots, my indigo fireball collides with his yellow one in mid-air. There’s a crack, and a ball of brilliant green, and then they puff out. The heat blows me back a step.