Vampire High Sophomore Year - By Douglas Rees Page 0,70

all my weight.

“Oh, geez,” Justin said. “Let a jenti do it.” And broke it down with one kick.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Could we hurry, at least?” he said.

“Okay, three minutes,” I said.

Down came the posters of Languedoc and the Rheinfells. Justin scooped up an armful of sheet music. I grabbed some notebooks. Everything paper we managed to rescue. But that was all we could do.

Somewhere down below, I heard a dull roaring sound. The building groaned, and the lights went out. The fire had reached the generators.

“Is it my imagination, or did things just get a lot worse?” I said.

“Unless we have the same imagination, I think we’re in trouble,” Justin said.

“You know, those windows you and Gregor opened …,” I said.

“Feeding the fire now,” Justin said.

We ran down the stairs to the second floor.

We were already too late. Justin had been right. I had bought us a few minutes, but the fire was finding its way up the chimneys and along the wooden bones of the old factory. The bottom floor wasn’t there anymore. The one we were standing on was starting to go.

We ran back up to the third floor and opened a window. It looked like a long way down.

“We’re going to have to dump the stuff, then drop,” I said.

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around everything we’d rescued. At least that would probably keep it together. Then I tossed it.

It landed too close to the building.

“Pick that up,” I shouted down, and somebody dared to come close enough to get it.

“You first,” I said to Justin.

“No, you first,” Justin said.

“You’re lighter,” I said.

“I’m stronger,” he said.

By now people were pointing up at us. I saw Mrs. Warrener down there. I heard my mother scream.

And then, hanging on the wall right beside me was a huge pair of wings and a set of sharp fangs.

“Grab on, one of you two idiots,” Gregor said.

“Go!” I said, and pushed Justin toward him.

“Get on, Warrener. You can’t argue with him. He’s more stupid than you are,” Gregor rasped.

“Good point,” I agreed.

Justin threw his arms around Gregor’s neck. They flew into an uprush of smoke and fierce hot air erupting through the windows on the second floor, and they made a crash landing a few yards from the building. Justin picked himself up, but Gregor flopped around like he’d hurt a wing.

Mr. and Ms. Shadwell were under me now, leaping up against the wall, and man, could they leap. But they still only got to five feet below me, and anyway, what could they do?

Behind me, the fire found its way up the stairs. It leapt forward like it was glad to see me.

Then someone very small and dark came arrowing to me out of the night.

“Come, my love,” she said.

I could feel her wings working as we dropped toward the ground. I held her tight, and she fought against the hot wind and gravity to set me down gently.

I held on to her until she said, “Cody, let me go. I dropped my shoes.”

I released her, and she changed back into her usual self and, shaking like a willow branch, leaned on me while she put her shoes back on.

My jenti princess.

The Daughters were close by, hanging near the Shadwells, who were still wolves. Pestilence saw me with Ileana, raised one eyebrow, and turned away.

Now Mom was hugging me, and so was Dad, and so was Turk, and we were all crying, and Gregor was standing nearby with his arm at a funny angle.

“Is it broken?” I asked when I could.

“No, just sprained my shoulder, I think,” Gregor said. “This one”—he jerked his chin at Justin—“threw me off balance.”

“Dimitru, you couldn’t fly a paper airplane across the backyard,” Justin said, and smiled.

“He couldn’t fly one across the room,” Turk said. Then she wrapped her arms around Gregor’s neck and kissed him.

“That doesn’t mean I love you,” she said.

“I do not love you, either,” Gregor said, and kissed her back. When they came up for air, he said, “If you ever go away again without telling anyone—”

“Shut up,” Turk said. “I came back. I’ve never come back before.”

And they locked together like a couple of snakes, with Gregor’s bad arm hanging off to one side.

Snakes!

“Oh, damn, Mercy’s flag,” I said.

I pulled away from Mom and Dad and, with them following, I went around to the front of the building.

The flagpole was empty. Maybe somebody had taken the flag down. Maybe the delicate old fabric had caught fire somehow and