Descent - Tara Fuller Page 0,28

And no, Red…I wasn’t sorry.”

She inhaled a sharp breath and took a small step back, fear crackling across her sky-blue eyes like lightning. Good. She needed to be afraid. She needed to lose this preconceived notion she had about me. I wasn’t someone worth saving.

“What’s wrong?” I smirked. “Things not as crystal clear as you thought they were? Let me help you out. Things never are. Don’t let this place fool you. Everyone down here is right where they are meant to be. Including me. The only one who doesn’t belong here is you.”

“And Tyler,” she said, softly. “Tyler doesn’t belong here.”

I nodded, watching a little of the hope in her eyes fade, hating that I’d been the cause. “You’re right. He doesn’t. That’s the only reason either of us are here right now.”

The way she was looking at me told me it wasn’t the only reason she was here, but I chose to ignore it.

Somewhere in the distance, a low howl began to pour through the corridors. The wail of a siren. The rush of unimaginable heat. The scream of a thousand souls being lit up and melted like candles made of flesh. Panic gripped my heart and I backed into Gwen, nearly knocking her down.

“Easton…” She gripped the back of my duster and steadied me. “What is it?”

“The furnace.”

I’d been caught in the heat of the furnace before. Been melted down to a puddle of skin and bone, only to be reanimated and melted down again. But Gwen… I thought back to the wonder in her eyes, the exhilaration of feeling a heart beat within her chest for the first time. The musical laugh that had spilled past the dam of her lips. No. I couldn’t let her go through that. The walls rattled around us and the harsh glow of a wall of fire lit the end of the tunnel ahead. I searched for anywhere to go…anything to shield us…

“There!” I pushed Gwen towards an opening in the stone wall, knowing what was on the other side and pushing anyway. The comforting blue ripple of light inside enveloped us, cooling my skin, promising a safe haven that didn’t exist. I didn’t care.

Don’t let her burn. Don’t let her burn.

Gwen stumbled inside and I shoved at a boulder, trying to block the entrance.

“Damn it!” I stepped back from the stone that wouldn’t budge and tore my duster off. I spun around and wrapped it around Red, tugging it up over her face. Her beautiful untouched skin. Skin that was about to be ruined by the darkness and heat of this place. I shouldn’t have cared. I didn’t want to care. Why the hell did I bring her down here?

Damn it!

The glowing pool of water lit the walls with an eerie blue light, dragging my attention away from her terrified eyes. No…not the water. The things in the water would be just as bad. Maybe worse.

Don’t let her burn.

“Easton…” Her voice shook and her knuckles went white around the grip she had on the duster. “What’s going to happen?”

I swallowed and turned back to the entrance, to the flames licking through the crack we’d come through. Gwen whimpered behind me as our skin began to smoke and sear.

“Oh God… Easton, tell me!”

Don’t let her burn.

“You’re going to get wet, Red. That’s what’s going to happen.”

I turned around and plowed into Gwen, knocking us both into the rippling pool of light. Cool water rushed over my skin, but Gwen still felt warm in my arms. I opened my eyes and watched flames roll over the surface, keeping my hand over Gwen’s mouth to keep her from flooding her lungs. Her screams vibrated against my palm. Her heart beat a frantic rhythm against my chest. I didn’t think about the nightmares that might be swimming around us, waiting to drag us under. I couldn’t. Not with the furnace still burning overhead.

When the flames finally died out, I peeled my hand from her mouth and shoved her to the surface. I kicked to follow, but didn’t move. Gwen’s face rippled above me, screaming. Her hand plunged into the water, reaching. I looked down to find the nightmare I’d been running from for over four hundred years. The one that always found me. Fingers clamped around my ankle and black hair tangled around my legs like seaweed.

I grunted and pulled, but the grip held on to my boot. Fingers clawed their way up my legs. A pale face sifted through the mass of