Twilight Prophecy - By Maggie Shayne Page 0,62

knew his own sister.

That thought brought another as he broke surface again and began swimming toward the tunnel’s hidden exit. Trails of weeds and brush covered the gaping maw, but he knew where it was. And as he neared it, he thought again of Brigit. She was on the warpath already, and this was only going to solidify the choices she was making. Hell, he wasn’t even sure anymore that her notion to put together a resistance force and go head to head with the mortal vigilante groups was all that misguided.

Wipe the bastards out, she’d said. And why not? That was what the humans were trying to do to them.

He bounced out of the water high enough to grip a stone outcropping, then pulled himself up and, with a quick glance behind him to be sure he was still unobserved, pushed through the weedy entrance and moved into the cool darkness of a stone passage.

It smelled of smoke, and that worried him. He wouldn’t die from smoke inhalation, as far as he knew. But Will might. Covering his face with one arm, James moved farther in, shouting Will’s name as loudly as he dared. And then he tripped over something soft and, kneeling, realized it was Sarafina, Will’s Gypsy bride. Her body was still and limp and lifeless, just as it should be by day. It was too dark to tell if she’d been burned. Bending, James scooped her into his arms and carried her closer to the entrance, where he laid her on the cool stone floor, far enough from the mouth to ensure no sunlight touched her.

He raced deeper again, stopping at the sound of a rasping cough. “Will?”

The coughing continued, and James followed it, the smell of smoke becoming stronger as he neared the basement. And then he met Will, carrying Rhiannon in his arms and coughing as if he were about to collapse at any moment.

“Is she…?”

“Don’t know. But she’s not burned.” Will choked out the words, dropping to his knees.

James took Rhiannon’s still body from the other man, anchoring her over his shoulder and then helping Will with his free hand. Arm around the man, he assisted him to the place where he’d left Sarafina, then set the beautiful Egyptian princess down beside the Gypsy. Then he put his hands on the other man and felt them begin to heat.

Will’s coughing eased, his breathing becoming less raspy. But he pushed James away before the healing had taken full effect. “Leave me. Get the others. Shannon, then—Roland and Damien.”

Nodding, James rushed back through the cave at full speed. At the end, a large steel door blocked entry into the basement. Will had taken the time to close it behind him to keep the tunnel from being flooded with smoke. Wise. Opening the door, James was stunned at what he saw. The sky, for one thing, beyond a crisscrossing web of charred beams. Piles of smoldering rubbish. A partial ceiling, still intact over two-thirds of the basement—including, thank the gods, the part where he stood and where his beloved ones rested beyond yet another door. He made his way through the smoky basement, opened that door and saw them there, laid out in their custom-made beds. And beside them, Rhiannon’s cat, lying still and lifeless on the floor.

“God, no. Pandora.” He knelt beside the cat, feeling its body, which was already beginning to cool.

“Dammit!” But there was no time. Not just then. He left the cat where it was—dead on the floor, near Rhiannon’s empty bed—and began carrying bodies out to the entrance, one by one. Shannon first, then Roland, and finally Gilgamesh. He was choking and his eyes burning when he went back in one last time to gather the limp and unresponsive body of Rhiannon’s beloved panther, who, unlike her owner, had not been immortal.

The firefighters captured Lucy bodily as she shouted about her cat still being inside, and she fought them, just to keep them busy, until James was out of sight. Praying he would be able to save the others, she finally surrendered, and allowed the firemen to wrap her in a blanket and lead her a safe distance from the house. She perched on the tailgate of a rescue truck, watching them douse the flames.

Finally the flow of the hoses trickled to a stop.

Firemen stood nearby, shaking their heads sadly. The far end of the house still had two walls standing upright, but burned halfway down. The rest was gutted, nothing

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