These Vicious Masks: A Swoon Novel(83)

Without the time or air for even a gasp of relief, I led the way back out of the laboratory with a hunched Mr. Kent in tow. We made our way down the hallway to the exit, but my feet stopped, immovable, when I peered outside. Rose and Sebastian hadn’t come out yet. Could he not find her? Were they trapped? Had they—

“I need to get Rose!” I shouted, ignoring Mr. Kent’s protests. “Get yourself to safety and make sure Robert is well enough!” I flew back down the hallway, made a jump over a burning rug on the first stair, and gasped when my skirt caught flame. I ripped frantically at the fabric before it could spread, leaving the tatters of outer skirts smoldering on the floor, while only my petticoat remained intact.

With each step up, the fumes flared in my nose and my head felt lighter, my neck becoming rubber. A tumbling portrait nearly struck my head as I ducked and crawled up to the top, lungs heavy, heat coursing through my skin.

Ignore it. Keep going. It’ll heal.

A tight, smoke-filled hallway met me at the top. Three open doors and a narrow servant staircase at the end. Had they taken that route? Wiping my eyes, I hobbled down the corridor, past blazing wall hangings and embers searing my cheek. I poked my head into the first room. Empty. Second room, empty again. Around the corner to the third room, when an earth-shattering explosion from below—the laboratory—shook the house violently. I stumbled forward into the vacant room and heard a strained creaking before a series of awful snaps. With a violent lurch, I collapsed, along with the rest of the floor.

A blistering pain pulsed through my entire body as I hit the hard ground with a thud, while the house seemed to crash down around me. The back of my head pounded from the barrage of falling rubble that seemed to last forever. When the pain was somewhat manageable, I opened my eyes and found myself buried in a pile of stone and splintered wood. My hands and knees felt damp, sticky. Blood. Somehow I was still alive, but barely mobile. I managed to turn my head up and crawl out of the dusty mess to find I was no longer on the second floor.

It was a cramped storage room. No windows, one door, and two walls engulfed in the fire spreading from the laboratory. My body felt broken, my arms unable to even handle the rest of my weight. I wheezed and choked and gagged on the cloud of smoke, hoping my power could keep me going without air. Up I climbed, wobbling on my weak legs and balancing myself against a box. I limped the few painful steps to the exit and twisted the metal knob, gasping at the searing heat, and pulled. It rattled and stopped with a click. Locked. The blasted door was locked.

My legs wavered, and I caught myself on the wall. The ceiling was now a massive hole, but it was too high to reach—even with the boxes. And I could barely stand, barely breathe, much less pull myself up one story.

Ignore it. Keep going. Dear God, I was going to die here.

I charged at the door. A stabbing pain surged through my shoulder with each push. My fist pounded against the wood in a futile attempt to burst through. My arms ached. I made one more pathetic attack and found myself blocked by hard indifference. My head felt light, my body heavy, my legs numb. I crashed and slumped against the door, which somehow moved it and sent me falling. For a moment I was pure nothingness. But before I hit the floor, hands seized me at the waist. Sebastian flew into my veins as I was pulled out of the room.

“Evelyn—”

“Wait—ple—where’s Rose?” I interrupted.

Sebastian helped me through a doorway. “She’s outside!” he said with a smile. “She’s safe.”

He had gotten her out already. Sebastian had saved her. Thank heavens. I clutched his shoulder and he lifted me into his arms, carrying me through a hallway, out the side, and into a small garden, where he set me down on the lawn. He knelt down, holding me against his chest, as I let my eyes close in exhaustion. Beneath the smoke and chemicals, he still smelled like leather and mint.

“That was foolish,” he said, the slightest quiver in his voice. “There was no need for you to come back in.”

Behind him, the full devastation of the inferno made his point. It was less of a house on fire now than it was a fire using a house for fuel. I gorged myself on the fresh air, unable to say a word. Everything felt clean again, pure, safe. I never knew how good it felt to breathe—to truly breathe.

“You’ve been burned,” he said. He kissed my forehead, then my hand, and the sting of pain was enveloped and overwhelmed by the touch of his lips.

“It—it’ll heal,” I said. “Thank you.”

Lying in his arms, I felt a heavy sort of contentment and relief roll through me. A reluctant moment of ease, where I knew everything was all right, but my body seemed to forget what it was like to relax. I opened my eyes and looked for my sister. “Where’s Rose? Why isn’t she here?” I asked.

“She’s by the back of the house. She was sedated when I found her.”

A cold shiver tore through my bones. Sedated. Unconscious. No. I . . . I had misheard him. That could not be right. It would mean—

“Then she—did—did you carry her out?” I asked desperately, gagging on the words.

His face was all confusion. “Yes . . .”

My heart pounded furiously. I leaped up without a word, ignoring the ache in my limbs, and sped around the back of the house. She lay still in the grass. I dropped to my knees by her side and shook her. “Rose,” I sputtered out. I lifted her angelic face in my hand and ran my finger across her neck.