Burn for Me (Hidden Legacy #1)(104)

He raised his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Save your breath. The old world is about to end, and you have a front-row seat.”

We’d failed. We’d failed so miserably. Everything was over. There was nothing we could do now.

“I liked you, Snow,” he said. “Sorry you won’t get to see it. No hard feelings?”

There was no reasoning with him.

“Hello, Mad Rogan.” Adam stretched Mad into a three-syllable word. “We meet at last. How does it feel to come up second best?”

“Nevada,” Mad Rogan said. “Come here.”

“I almost feel sorry for you, man.” Adam grinned. “You had a chance to be invited to the party, but your own cousin made you into a patsy instead. God, that’s got to suck.”

Mad Rogan took me by the hand and pulled me to him, leading me away from Adam.

We were going to die. Houston would burn. It was over.

“Nothing to say, oh Great One? Come on, Scourge of Mexico!” Adam called. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. I’m about to incinerate your ass.”

Rogan glanced at him. “It’s your party. You’re wearing the tiara. Try to be a gracious host.”

Adam’s face flushed.

“Fuck you!” He stabbed his index finger in our direction. “Fuck you, man. Fuck both of you.”

“Kids these days.” Mad Rogan shook his head. “No manners.”

Rogan halted in the middle of the lawn. I stopped with him. Everything seemed so bright. The trees were such a vivid emerald green, the sky so blue. I could see every blade of grass around us.

“I don’t want to die,” I whispered. I realized I was crying. I was supposed to be stoic or strong, but all I could think about was how much I loved being alive. I’d barely gotten to do anything with my life. I would never get to see my sisters grow up. I would never fall in love and have a family. I wouldn’t even get to say the proper good-bye. I’d just pecked my mom on the cheek. I . . .

“Stay close to me,” Mad Rogan said. “You’ll feel the boundary around us. No matter what happens, do not cross. Do you understand, Nevada? You can’t enter null space, but you can exit it, and if you try to do it while I’m active, it will shred you into a bloody mist.”

I swallowed.

“Once I begin, I may not be able to stop,” Mad Rogan said. “I won’t know where you are. I won’t hear you. I won’t see you. Do not leave the circle. No matter what happens, you’ll be safe here. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He pulled me to him, my back against his chest, and he locked his arms on me. Magic pulsed out of him. Wind stirred the grass around us.

“Won’t work,” Adam called out. “Whatever you’re doing, it won’t work. I’ll burn through it.”

“Let’s dance,” Mad Rogan said. His voice sounded strange, deep and distant.

Nothing happened. His arms were still around me. He didn’t move.

Seconds dripped by, slowly, so slowly.

Across from us, faint orange light rose from Adam’s circle. It flared up, like phantom flame, and died down, then flared up again and faded once more. Adam Pierce opened his mouth. His voice was no longer his own. It was a voice of something ancient and terrible, a roar of a volcano come to life. “I AM FIRE. BURN FOR ME.”

The wind died. It was there one second, and now it was gone. I could still see it rustling the trees and the grass, but I felt nothing. A strange calm came over me, as if an invisible wall cut us off from the world. I felt it about two feet in front of me, curving into a circle about seven feet wide. It was so peaceful here. So quiet.

Mad Rogan’s hold loosened. His arms slid up my shoulders. I turned. His eyes turned unnatural turquoise blue. His face looked serene.

“Rogan?”

He was looking into the distance. He didn’t see me.

His feet left the ground. His body floated a foot up in the air. His arms opened, loose by his sides. The grass outside the circle bent away from it, as if a blast wave ran across it.

In his circle, Adam Pierce’s fire shot up, spinning around him, solid and four feet high now. He was looking straight at me, and his eyes were pure fire. Hair rose on the back of my neck.

The circle around me pulsed. I didn’t hear it, but I felt it. It reverberated through me, echoing in my bones, not painful, but not pleasant either. The trees around us collapsed, severed at the root. The Riding Cowboy slid sideways and crashed down.

The circle pulsed again. The Harris County Criminal Justice Center quaked. To the right, the huge tower of the Harris County civil courthouse shuddered.

What was Rogan doing?

The circle pulsed again, like the beating of a titan’s heart.

The Justice Center slid forward and broke apart. For a fraction of a second, pieces of it hung in the air, as if deciding whether they should obey the pull of gravity. Hundreds of glass shards hovered, catching the sun. Thousands of chunks of stone floated, motionless. Between them, the inner guts of the building showed, fractured, all of the three hundred and twenty-five feet of its height torn and left on display. It was as if the entire enormous structure had turned to glass and some deity had smashed it with its hammer.

The massive building imploded. Tons of stone, glass, wood, and steel crashed to the ground. It made no sound as it fell. My brain refused to accept that it made no sound. I kept straining to hear it, but it didn’t come.