Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels #4)

Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels #4) Page 12

It wasn’t a natural action.

The flames were Tao’s.

He’d lost control. Had to have. Fuck.

I jumped over the banister, landed lightly in a half crouch, then surged upright and ran forward. The fire alarm went off, forcing me to shout as I said, “Manny, get everyone outside!”

He nodded, his face white as he herded the three customers out. I made a quick dash into the bathrooms to ensure that no one was there, then bolted for the kitchen.

I hit the doors with enough force to wrench one from its hinges. Water poured from the ceiling sprinklers and soaked me in an instant, but it wasn’t doing anything to extinguish the source of the fire—Tao. He was on his knees in the middle of the kitchen floor, his arms wrapped around his chest and his entire body alight. It wasn’t burning him—it couldn’t, because he was now more a spirit of flame than a werewolf with pyrokinetic abilities, thanks to the fire elemental—a creature created from magic—that he’d consumed to save Ilianna’s life. But his flames leapt high enough to fan out across the ceiling, and there were thick scorch marks above the stainless-steel oven surrounds—obviously, that was where the initial loss of control had happened. Yet nothing else had been set on fire, even though the intensity of the heat pouring off him had me flinching.

My gaze swept the rest of the kitchen, looking for Linda and Rachel—the other chef who was rostered on to help today. Neither of them was here, but the rear door was half open. Tao must have sent them out just before he exploded.

I scooped up tea towels from the nearby bench, dunked them in a sink that had trays soaking, then wrapped them around my hands as I approached Tao.

“Don’t,” he croaked. “You’ll burn.”

“Then fucking control it.”

His gaze leapt to mine—haunted, desperate. “It’s not me. It’s not my fire-starting abilities—it’s the elemental.”

I bit my lip against the urge to say something comforting. That was not what he needed right now. “And you’re both now, like it or not. You can do this, Tao. You can control it.”

“If I could, I wouldn’t have exploded,” he ground out.

True enough. But all I said was, “Well, the only thing on fire in the kitchen is you, so don’t bullshit me about not being able to control it.”

I grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him toward the freezer. His entire body shook violently, as if the flames that enveloped him were physically assaulting him. Heat soaked through the towels and singed the hairs on my arms, but the flames leapt no farther up my arms—he was controlling it, even if imperfectly.

I opened the freezer, shoved him inside, then grabbed the safety-release knob and slammed the door shut behind the two of us. The flames were so fierce it felt like I’d stepped into an oven, and I briefly wondered if he’d get himself under full control before everything started melting—me included.

He squatted on the freezer floor and hugged his knees, making the overall area of his flames small. I stepped past him and grabbed some bags of ice, tearing them open, then pouring the contents down his back. The blocks melted in an instant, but it didn’t matter. What that did was get his core temperature down so that he could have some hope of regaining control.

Gradually, the flames subsided, until they were little more than fireflies dancing across his skin. I poured the last of the ice down his back, then tossed the bag on the floor beside the others and knelt behind him. I wrapped my arms around his still-shaking shoulders and held him tight. I was soaked to the skin—we both were—but I wasn’t cold. The flames might be practically out, but the heat in his body was still enough to warm an entire battalion of people.

After a while, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Don’t ever do that again, Risa.”

It seemed to be my day for getting told that. But there was no anger in Tao’s voice, only resigned weariness. I said, “You know it’s pointless telling me that, so why even waste the words?”

“Because I keep hoping one day you’ll actually listen to someone.”

I snorted softly. “And how long have you known me?”

He made an odd sound that stood somewhere between laugh and groan. “Okay, point taken. But it was still one hell of a risk. I wasn’t in control, and I could have hurt you.”

“As I’ve already pointed out, you were the only thing alight in the kitchen.” And that alone meant he had some level of control, even if he couldn’t immediately douse the flames. I dropped a kiss onto the back of his neck, then pushed to my feet. “I knew you wouldn’t let the elemental hurt me.”

“Next time I might.” He took my offered hand and let me haul him upright. As a werewolf he was naturally lean, but these days, thanks to what resided within him, he could only be considered skin and bone. Not abnormally so, not yet, but not far from it, either. “And the fire trucks have just about arrived.”

I cocked my head a little and caught the wail of the approaching fire engine. “You want to go out the back and reassure Linda and Rachel? I’ll go talk to the firemen.”

His smile was a little on the wan side, but it nevertheless warmed me. He was going to be okay—at least this time. “You always did like a man in uniform.”

“Most women do.” I gave him a grin. “And some men.”

“Not this man.”

“Well, no, not unless you’d walked in on one of Ilianna’s potion-making moments.” I hesitated. “Once this mess is all sorted out, you’d better meet me upstairs and tell me exactly what happened.”

He nodded, his expression suddenly grim. Prickles of concern danced through me, but I shoved them aside, then hit the freezer door release and headed out not only to meet the firemen but to see what could be done about the mess.

As it turned out, there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. We cleaned up the best we could, but the kitchen itself was shut down, thanks to all the water damage, and it wouldn’t reopen until everything was checked and passed by the local government council, who controlled the planning and permits for the area. I spent the next hour lining up plumbers, electricians, and the gas people, while Tao rang the insurance company, then put signs in the windows explaining the situation. I hoped we weren’t closed for too long. Customers could be fickle creatures at the best of times.

I locked up, then pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge and headed upstairs.

“So, give with the details.” I handed Tao a beer and plopped down on a nearby chair.

He sighed and put his feet up. His warm brown eyes, when they met mine, were somber. “I was pulling a double shift because Jacques had his dad’s funeral today, and no one was able to fill in.”

I nodded. I knew all that—just as I knew that Tao could have called in a temp but didn’t because he was a little on the fussy side when it came to just who worked in his kitchen.

“Lunch was madder than normal and the kitchen was its usual stinking-hot self.” He grimaced. “In this day and age you’d think they’d make air-con that could function more efficiently in kitchens.”

“I’m sure they do. Problem is, we don’t actually own this building.”

“Yeah. Might have to fix that now that the place is pulling decent money.” He thrust a hand through his still-damp brown hair. “Anyway, the heat had the thing inside me stirring. The hotter the air got, the stronger it got, but both Rachel and I were working flat out and I just couldn’t take time to go sit in the freezer for a while.”

“And you didn’t think it would get to the point that it did.” I said it softly, without accusation. Tao wasn’t the type to risk the lives of others.

“It’s never been this bad before. I don’t know why it was this time.”

I drank some beer and contemplated him. The elemental’s flames still burned fiercely within him—the power of it glowed under his skin.

“Obviously, the kitchen heat had something to do with it.”

“Yeah.” He took a sip of beer and leaned back in the chair. “I had all the jets going on the stove. It seems to feed on that sort of stuff.”

It was a fire elemental, so that was logical. “It might also have been the sun. It was warm today.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No sun gets into the kitchen.”

“It mightn’t need direct sunlight. Maybe just the warmth is enough.” I paused. “At least no one was hurt. You controlled it that much; in the end, that’s all that matters.”

“But I almost didn’t.” His expression was bleak. “I’m scared to death it’ll take me over, and I’ll destroy everything and everyone I love.”

I put my beer down, then knelt in front of him and took his hands in mine. “I promise you, Tao, we won’t let this thing destroy you or anyone else. It hasn’t won the fights, and it won’t win the battle. We won’t let it.”

“I hope you’re right.” But his expression suggested he actually held very little hope himself.

I hesitated. “Maybe you should work at night for the time being. At least until you’re more confident of your ability to control the elemental.”

“Yeah.” He tugged his hands free from mine and pulled me close. For several minutes he did nothing more than hug me—it almost felt like he was attempting to hold on to his own humanity by hanging on to mine. Gradually, the heat in him began to dissipate, until his body temperature was only a little above what would be considered normal for a werewolf.

Only then did the tension in him subside.

He released me and said, “Looks like we’ve both got an unintended night off.”

I forced a smile and sat back on my heels. “I guess the fire did have one benefit, then.”

“I guess it did.” He scrubbed a hand across his stubbly chin, the sound like sandpaper against a wall. “I might take myself down to the Blue Moon and lose a couple hours.”