Chapter 41

“Good. Now put out the fire.” From across the room, Natasha waved a hand out toward her bed, but her voice held a nervous edge to it. Blue and yellow flames of Lynda’s magic chewed at the blankets and mattress charring them black.

Lynda frowned. Where was something to smother the flames with or a fire extinguisher? “How?”

“This is a magical fire, nothing but you, can stop it. No water or chemical not even the fire department with all their trucks.”

Fear inched up her spine, strangling her. “Then h—”

“Imagine taking in the flames back into your core where they came from, instantly cooling them so they don't burn you from the inside out.” Natasha’s eyes pinched at the corners. Was she worried about the fire? No, maybe just the fact it was ruining her bed and some of her books. Lynda would have to pay her back for the damages.

“Right, so then, how do I do that?”

“Like you did before with your thoughts and fear and anger, but feel them winding down slowly. Changing into calm and peace.”

When Lynda bit her lip, Natasha added, “Think of a time when one of those emotions called to you…draw on it, use it. Something as simple as playing in the park when you were little or your first taste of cotton candy at a fair. Anything.”

Lynda took a big breath to calm herself. The fire had ignited quickly enough getting rid of it should be super easy. With her hands out, she pictured the flames being cool to the touch then poof…disappearing into nothing like liquid nitrogen being poured out into wispy smoke. One of her favorite science experiments from Chemistry class.

Yet, no matter how much she concentrated on that image, the flames still burned on Natasha’s bed. Her arms shook from holding them out and straining.

“Nothing's happening.” Why couldn't her magic be easy like a one-two-three guide with pictures? Putting together complex furniture by hand would be simpler.

“Try again.” Natasha’s voice rushed out. “Think about the flames dying out like they have no oxygen or fuel in which to burn.”

Lynda furrowed her brow willing the fire to vanish, but again, nothing changed. Sweat trailed down her back as she concentrated, but the only change was a headache growing inside her skull. Her stomach turned queasy. Why was Natasha acting so nervous with each second that passed? She could toss up a spell and get rid of this fire. Unless she couldn’t. Worry and fear pressed against Lynda’s sides. Oh god, what if she could never control her magic regardless of Natasha’s training? Never get the hang of pulling on it when she needed it and one or more of her lovers paid the price for her failure?

“Too hard!” Natasha backed up a step. “Your magic is bouncing all over the place. Let me try with you.”

Lynda pressed her hands out like Natasha, willing the fire to go away.” But the flames crawled across the bed, and along the floor to the door. Both women backed up, cornered.

“It’s not working.” Panic clamped a vise down on her chest. In response, the fire rose high like a bon fire.

“Stop! You're going to make the entire room combust.”

“How am I supposed to do this then?” Lynda lowered her arms. Her whole body felt drained as if she had fallen asleep in a sauna or had caught the flu. Fear chewed on her insides as she thought about Pierre and Mihnea. They were still in their sleep coma until sunset which was too long away if the fire exploded through the building. Would they be able to contain the magic long enough to get everyone out? “We need to sound the fire alarm. Why did you have me make a fire if you couldn’t stop it?”

“I’m so sorry.” Natasha backed up, her gaze darting from the fire to the door that was quickly being engulfed in flames. “I-I didn’t…I should’ve realized how stron—”

A loud knock echoed on Natasha's door. “What's that smell? Is something burning?” a male voice asked.

“It's fine. We got this.” But Natasha’s voice sounded strained and full of fear. “Vyvedite sukh iz baniya seychas,” she added in Russian.

Lynda shook her head. “What did you tell him? I can't do this. It's useless without tons of training and time.”

“Nonsense. We found a few of your triggers for creating fire...just need to figure out how to reel it back in.” She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. In fact, her skin was paler than normal. “Try again.”

Lynda squared her shoulders. She tried to think about the flames fizzing out. But the dry heat pressed her like a hot iron. What if she couldn't stop this magic? What if she was only able to unleash it and not control it? Like when she'd struck out at Dracula and hit Pierre instead? And she'd been unable to heal him.

A pang crushed into her heart at the thought of her hurting one of them eventually, even accidentally.

Her magic was a grenade that once drawn couldn't be changed or redirected...it just blew up no matter who was in its path.

“Stop!” Natasha grabbed her arms and shook her.

Lynda snapped her eyes open. The entire bed, curtains, bookshelves, including part of the wall and ceiling, were engulfed in flames.

“Wha—I can't do this—help me.”

“You are the only one who can fix this,” Natasha yelled over the roaring flames that seemed to have become an entity bent on turning everything to blackened ash.

She stumbled away from Natasha’s grasp, and said, “Do your magic and stop this.”

“I-I can't. Rein in your power or your magic will destroy more than just my room. The fire will eat through the city until you or a greater force tames it.”

She had to do this. If she didn't, innocent lives would be at risk. Her princes were in danger as well since it wasn't dusk yet. Fear tightened her chest, and she couldn't take a deep breath without her breastbone hurt.

Somehow, she needed to reel in this magic, stop the fire from turning into a bomb.

Carefully, she tried to pull the fire into herself, picturing the flames shrinking and sinking into her body. Her hands shook. Sweat beaded across her brow, but she had to do this. If fear manifested this raw power then the opposite should squelch it. She pictured a meadow with flowers and birds. Peace. Tranquility.

She peeked at the magical fire, but it hadn't been subdued at all! A smokeless fire. Its heat searing the hairs on her arms when she lifted her arms once more to try again.

The flames crossed the floor, blocking the door.

“We've gotta get out of here.” Natasha leaped for the window. “Hurry, you're too important to lose. Boris is going to kill me if anything happens to you.”

What did she mean? Because her blood could grant temporary immunity to vamps from the sun? Lynda shuffled back a step, the heat burning her throat as flames rose around them.

“But we're fifteen flights up.” Vampires could survive a fall that far, but they couldn't fly. Natasha was only half-vamp and unless she had a flying broom lying around, they were screwed.

“Trust me, I won't let you hit the ground.”

“What about you? And the others?” A hollow terror began to eat at her from the inside out.

Natasha put two fingers in her mouth, blew a screeching whistle. Then she shouted. “Almaro d’jul.”

Her ears rang from the sound that seemed to penetrate the room and vibrate the walls.

“I sent an alarm to everyone in the building to get everyone out. Evacuations will start, now let's go.”

Lynda’s skin blistered being trapped in the bedroom in a furnace cranked all the way up.

With a jerk, Natasha ripped off the plywood nailed to the wall. The air in the room turned thicker. Lynda felt like every breath cooked her throat, lungs, everything.

Breaking off one of the metal bookshelves, Natasha dumped the paperbacks off it, then rammed the metal into the glass window.

After the fourth strike, the glass splintered. Natasha grasped onto the windowsill, then thrust her legs forward, kicking out the glass. She flipped her body out the window, holding onto the ledge, then met Lynda's stare.

“Okay. Climb onto me. I'll try to get us as close to the ground as I can before casting a spell to help us float down.”

“Why not do that now?” The wind outside whipped around the room. As if suddenly awakened from the burst of air, the fire roared, flaring up toward them.

“Hurry!”

Mihnea and Pierre…and all the other vampires, who weren’t zombies…were still in hibernation. What if they didn’t wake in time? Her heart clenched. She couldn’t do this, leave them to fate. And Natasha had been wrong about the magic fire and them being able to control it. What if she was wrong about this too? Lynda broke out in a cold sweat and glanced back at the door, Natasha cursed.

“Lynda, we have to leave!” Natasha shouted.

Her stomach plummeted as she woodenly walked to the open window. The view sending the floor tilting beneath her feet and she closed her eyes briefly. Her words squeezed past her tightening throat. “Why can't you use your magic and save us?”

“If I cast any kind of spell this close to yours, it will be like throwing a lit match in a puddle of gasoline and dynamite.” Her brow pinched as she held onto the window seal, her body hanging outside of the building. “Once we clear a few floors, I can use my magic to get us down the rest of the way.”

“What about Pierre and Mihnea?” Lynda glanced past Natasha to the sun that appeared to be taking its sweet time setting in the horizon.

Natasha shook her head, but apparently at seeing Lynda's expression, sighed. “Okay, let's get you to safety first then I'll come back for them. They are on a lower floor so they should be fine.”

The fire crackled behind Lynda. More than half the bedroom was an inferno. The air pulsed with heat and flames and an underlying current of something almost tangible. Like woven threads that could unravel any moment and destroy everything in its path. Natasha was right, get everyone on out now including her men. It was close enough to dusk that she might be able to rouse them.

“Save as many as you can.” Lynda nodded. God, she hoped the fire didn’t turn her to ash before she could get out of the room. But she had to do something, she couldn’t just leave. “I'll do the same.”

Then at Natasha's yell, Lynda bounded into the flames to reach the door and get to them.