Deadly Heat (Deadly #2)(41)

He reached into his glove compartment and pulled out the small black box he kept handy. He’d bought the damn thing online. It worked so well. He pressed the black button on the side. “Tell the smoke eaters they’d better hurry,” he muttered into the distorter. “They’ve got a body burning at 408 Millway, and the houses over here, they’re so close… those flames… they’ll take out the whole street if they don’t move their asses.”

“Sir—sir, I need your name. Sir, sir, who are—”

“Tell ’em Phoenix said to f*ck off—and that this one’s for the Bureau bastards.” Just a little taste.

They’d get the full show later when he brought hell right to their doors.

To that * Agent Lake’s door. When the fire came calling, he’d break. Beg and break.

He hung up the phone. He’d ditch the cell and switch to another for the next call.

So easy. He shoved the distorter back into the glove box and risked one more glance at the house. Ah, he could see the smoke now. Black and rising.

His fingers twisted as he cranked the truck. The truck had to be gone before the fire engines came.

How long would it take them? And how many would die when they went in?

He couldn’t wait to see.

Burn, bitch. Burn.


What the hell did I just do?

Kenton stared down into Lora’s eyes, his heart slamming into his chest. He’d f*cking bared his soul to her. He never talked about his mom or that shit-forsaken night.

But he’d told her.

Because he’d wanted her to know that he understood what it was like to have death all around you. That cold air whispering over your skin when you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Coming closer, closer…

The station’s alarm rang, the shrill cry echoing through the building. Lora jerked back. “I’ve got to go!” She pulled out of his arms and rushed past him as she sprang for the door.

But he was right on her heels.

When they hit the hall downstairs, they slammed into a swarm of uniforms. Lora shoved past the throng. He saw her grab her thick coat and her helmet.

The alarm was still ringing. Kenton spun around and came face to face with Monica.

“Is it our guy?” Her voice was quiet and calm, but it cut through the noise and for an instant, everyone froze.

Kenton glanced back and saw the dispatch clerk rise slowly. “A victim is trapped inside, and the cops are on their way—”

Trapped victim. Could be their arsonist playing another game. Could just be a terrible fire.

The firefighters were scrambling for the truck. Kenton turned, searching for Garrison, but he saw no sign of the chief.

He grabbed Monica’s arm. “Come on.” No way was he gonna let Lora out of his sight. “If it is him, that bastard will be there, watching.”

Monica ran with Kenton down the hall. Kenton saw Lora climb onto the fire truck. She looked back at him, her thick coat shielding her body.

His mouth dried.

The fire engine raced out with a scream of sirens.

“Lora!” Dammit, he should have told her. He should have said—

Be safe.


The firefighters walked into hell. Greedy flames, orange and red, were shooting for the ceiling, dancing and rolling.

“Preliminary sweep,” the chief’s voice thundered in her ear through the crystal-clear radio connection. Garrison had met them on the scene. He’d arrived in his gray county pickup, and she’d been damn glad to see him when she jumped off the engine.

Lora motioned with her right hand. Wade was by her side. Shit, those flames were high, moving fast, if there really was anyone inside—

Rick kicked open a door to the left, and smoke billowed out. Fire. So much fire.

She glanced down at the floor—a wooden floor. In the den, the fire hadn’t spread too far yet, but that wood, it looked darker in spots, stained…

Wet.

Her eyes swept around the room, following the marks as the stain made a big circle. The flames were all near the walls in here now, but, oh, Christ, she knew—

Wade marched down the narrow hallway. He kicked open a door, just as Rick had done, but she hadn’t seen him check the door. Rick had checked, tested first, you had to check before—

“Back!” She screamed into her radio.

Fire didn’t burst from the room. She’d expected flames.

She got a man. A man running out, right at Wade. No, not a man—a boy, laughing and screaming in the smoke.

Wade slipped and hit the floor. The bastard jumped over him, still laughing and screaming. Then he ran straight for her.

Lora stumbled back.

The boy stopped with his arms raised. Lighters. He had lighters in both hands, and he was soaking wet.

The flames from the walls had moved in. They hit the wet lines on the floor.

Shit, no! “Out! Pull out!” she yelled. Wade was still on the floor, but shoving up to his feet

Rick turned, then jumped forward.

The kid—that bastard—his eyes met hers, and he smiled.

I—I know him.

He smiled when he flicked those lighters—the flames danced—

And he set himself on fire.

Oh, God.

Then the kid ran right at Wade, slamming into the firefighter. They crashed through the wall, and the flames erupted.