Brightly Burning(34)

I was hit in the face with heat so strong that I threw both hands up, squinting against it. Against my better instincts, I pushed myself forward, toward the fire, which lit up the sheets at the foot of Hugo’s bed like a bonfire. I dropped to the floor, crawling toward Hugo’s prone figure.

“Please don’t be dead,” I pleaded to no one but the fire, until finally I reached the head of the bed. The fire hadn’t spread this far, and I found Hugo in a fetal position, knees tucked against his chest, the only thing keeping his toes from being roasted. I shook him, but he did not wake. A whiff of stale liquor hit my nose—?he was passed out drunk. Of course.

“Emergency fire protocols will go into effect in sixty seconds,” Rori provided an update, and I couldn’t believe I’d burned through half my time already.

“Hugo!” I shouted, shaking him again. This time he stirred, only just, mumbling and batting at my hands, trying to push me away.

“Emergency fire protocols will go into effect in forty-five seconds.”

Screw this. I grabbed Hugo by the arm and hauled him with all my might, out of bed and onto the floor. Then I dragged him along the floor, even as he came properly awake. He didn’t fight me; indeed, he began to cough, deep, bone-rattling hacks that continued as we made our way through the hatch door and he collapsed in the corridor.

“My book,” he coughed. “I need—” He tried to heave himself up and go back inside, but I stopped him cold. He was in no shape to run back into a burning room that was twenty seconds from venting. I popped my head back inside, crouching low, and saw a single hardcover volume on Hugo’s bedside table. Without thinking, I sprinted back inside, precious seconds ticking away, Rori’s voice overhead.

Fifteen seconds.

Ten.

I grabbed the book, flying back toward the door, ferocious heat from the fire that now consumed the bed singeing my lashes as I literally hurled my body over the threshold and into the hallway, landing practically on top of Hugo.

“Emergency fire protocols active,” Rori intoned as the door shuttled closed behind me, followed by the hollow thump of the window blowing out and all the fire, oxygen, and unbolted contents within being sucked out into space.

We stared in disbelief at Hugo’s door from the wall opposite, chests heaving shaky breaths while the Rochester hummed along quietly. As if we hadn’t battled a raging fire moments before. Exhausted and numb with shock, I rested my head against Hugo’s chest, suddenly realizing it was bare. My gaze traveled down, and I found him naked but for a thin pair of undershorts. My breath stopped short, but I didn’t pull away. No, I let myself enjoy it for just a moment, Hugo clinging to me, his heartbeat sounding in my ear. It was unlikely to happen again.

“You saved my life,” he rasped. “Again.”

I raised my eyes to meet his and found more fire than I could bear. His gaze burned with bewilderment, gratitude, and something else I was afraid to place. Forcing a cough, I pulled myself up to sitting, pulled myself away.

“I hope this was worth risking my life for,” I panted, turning over the book in my hands. It had been well kept, the golden lettering of its cover still visible. The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. I didn’t know it, but it clearly was of great value to Hugo. He would have died going back for it.

“It was my father’s.” Hugo coughed, now leaning against a bulkhead to gather his bearings. “And his mother’s before him. And so on. I would imagine a book lover such as yourself would understand.”

I nodded for the sake of avoiding argument. I loved books as much as the next person, but I loved living even more.

“Now, what the hell just happened?” Hugo demanded between coughs.

“I don’t exactly know,” I said. “I woke to Rori sounding the alarm, and there was a fire in your room. Someone set the bed alight.”

“Someone? How do you know it was someone?”

“How else could it have happened? You certainly didn’t do it yourself. And I heard—” No. I stopped myself. It was stupid.

“What did you hear?” Hugo grabbed my wrist, his grip weaker than it could be but still strong enough that the pressure was uncomfortable. “Tell me.”

“I heard someone outside my door. Laughing. In the corridor. I don’t know how long before it happened. I drifted off. But Luna heard it too. He hissed at the door.”

Hugo nodded, like he wasn’t surprised to hear it. “Stella, I need you to go into your room and lock the door behind you. Stay there until I come back.”

“Where are you going? You need to see Officer Hanada about smoke inhalation, and it may not be safe—”

“I’m fine,” Hugo insisted, pulling himself to standing by grabbing firm hold of the bulkhead. Chivalrous to a fault, he offered me a hand, but I wasn’t dumb enough to take it. My weight would pull him back down, and while I was winded from my sprint and numb from adrenaline, I was otherwise healthy. I got to my feet without aid, ignoring Hugo’s pointed frown.

He grabbed ahold of my arm and started walking me toward my door, not fooling me one bit—?he needed my support to stand. And he thought it was wise to leave me in my room while he went off to do who knew what?

“I should go with you,” I said, even as we stopped before my door and I pressed my fingers against the bio-lock.

“Absolutely not.” He led me inside and deposited me by the bed. Luna leaped up from my pillow, rubbing himself against my side, poking his nose against Hugo’s hand. Hugo ruffled the fur between Luna’s ears and with clear effort righted himself to standing, no longer able to depend on anything for support. He managed it, though not without a few more dry hacks. “Stay in here until I come back. Don’t leave this room under any circumstances.”