Darkness Devours(17)

 

I scrambled to my feet. Flames were crawling down the walls, consuming everything in their path. The whole place was alight, and yet there was no heat, just smoke. Lots and lots of smoke.

 

I sheathed a still-hissing Amaya. She felt heavier on my back, as if the weight of the Ania she'd consumed had somehow increased the mass of her steel. I shivered at the thought, then grabbed my bag from underneath the table and slung it over my shoulder.

 

Azriel clasped my elbow, his blue eyes as fierce as the fire that swarmed Valdis's side. "We need to get out of here."

 

"What about the fire? Can you stop it?" The words came out wheezy. The fire might not hold any heat, but the smoke was thick and it clung to the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone talk. 

 

"The fire is not mine, so no, I cannot." His grip slipped down to my fingers, his palm warm against mine as he tugged me toward the rear exit. The smoke was so bad I could barely even see the emergency exit sign.

 

"Meaning I can?"

 

"Maybe."

 

He pushed the doorway open. Beyond lay a small lane bathed in sunshine, but the sudden rush of fresh air seemed to send my lungs into a spasm and for the next few minutes I could do nothing but cough.

 

"Do you need a drink?" Azriel asked.

 

I shook my head and made a motion back toward the café. Smoke was funneling out of the open door and the purple flames were licking at the frame. It was almost as if they were following us.

 

"Amaya is their source," Azriel said. "They follow where she leads."

 

"Then how do I put it out? And why didn't the café at Werribee mansion"—which was where we'd found, and lost, the first of the keys—"go up like this when Amaya set that alight last week?"

 

"Because her lust was fully sated and the flames could gain no hold. I suspect that's not the case now."

 

She was still hissing away merrily, so he was right in his presumption. "Then how do I calm her?"

 

He tugged me forward again, taking us farther down the lane, away from the front of the café and the approaching fire engines. "Every sword is different. What works for one will not work for the other."