by Tasha Black
But instead of sitting docilely in the crook of his elbow as usual, Tacos dug in his claws.
Before Johnny could register what was happening, the little fellow started whipping him viciously with his long tail.
“Hey,” Johnny said sharply, hoping to distract it from attacking him.
Instead Tacos looked up at him and hissed loudly.
Oh boy.
It scuttled up his chest and looked at him as if it wanted to bite him on the nose.
Johnny grabbed it by the torso and dragged it off his chest and away from his body.
It struggled wildly. Then, before his eyes, Tacos sighed and seemed almost to go limp.
But the sigh wasn’t a regular sigh. A black fog emanated from his little mouth and floated up above both their heads.
Johnny backed up, holding the now calm creature protectively against his chest.
It wasn’t the little guy’s fault.
He had been possessed by the same shadow-thing that had come for him during the fire, then possessed the shark to attack him.
Some kind of demon, Johnny guessed, although the very thought seemed ludicrous.
Demons weren’t real.
Says the guy who can turn into a dragon.
Fair enough.
As he watched, it pulled itself long and thin like the world’s least appetizing taffy, then coiled up like a snake.
It was hypnotic, watching that cloud of smoky ribbons divide itself into five fingers. They stretched forward to him.
Move, boy!
The voice of the dragon roused Johnny. He dropped to the ground and rolled away from the smoke just as it shot forward. For all he could see, it would have entered his body through his eyes, nostrils and mouth.
Could it possess a person?
Johnny thought it could, but he was sure he didn’t want to find out.
He shuddered and headed for the door, unsure of what to do next, but convinced he needed to put some space between himself and the demon.
At the last moment, it occurred to him that leading the demon out into the hallway meant endangering every other person in the building. He paused, his hand almost touching the knob.
He turned back, resolved not to let anything bad happen to the others, Neve was out there.
He nearly jumped out of his skin.
The demon was inches away from him now. It had formed itself into the shape of a woman, with long smoky tendrils of hair escaping from a ponytail - like Neve on the beach.
It knew his weakness.
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” he told it firmly. “And you don’t belong here. I’m not going to be part of your world anymore after tonight.”
The creature cocked its head inquisitively, then reached out a misty hand toward him.
“No,” he said, waving it away.
But the smoke only reformed a moment later.
The demon stepped in closer still, reaching both hands out as if to cup his cheeks.
He sidestepped. It stepped with him.
The iguana scrambled sensibly onto his neck, allowing Johnny’s head to block it from the demon.
Oh for god’s sake, boy, the fire, the fire.
The dragon was right. If this were the same demon as before, fire could be the answer.
As if it could hear his thoughts, the demon drifted away from him.
Encouraged that he knew at last what to do, Johnny followed, allowing the dragon access to the tips of his fingers.
You’ll need more than that, boy. Let me out.
No, he was definitely not doing that.
He cornered the demon in the bathroom. It swayed uncertainly, looking twice as large when it was reflected in the mirror.
Lifting his hands, Johnny summoned the fire.
A fuzzy warmth filled his hands and then the scarlet flames shot out.
The shadow doubled in on itself as if in pain, then shivered and puffed back out.
Johnny pushed harder, the orange flames turned red and the demon was shot back into the fan.
Tacos leaped from Johnny’s neck and scrambled for cover under the bed.
When Johnny was at last able to stop throwing fire, he realized that the wall around the fan had started to melt, the wallpaper peeled and burned, and the shower curtain smoked and smoldered.
Panicked, he turned on the sink, trying to splash water, but it did no good. He wet a towel and tried to beat out the fire, but now it was on the ceiling, flames licking through the wooden doorframe and out into the bedroom.
No, no, no.
Not again.
He ran to the door to the hallway, knowing he’d seen an extinguisher on a wall mount someplace between here and reception.
That was when he heard the screams of the other patients running out of the rooms all over the building.
The bathroom fan.
They must all be on the same ventilation duct.
Which meant that when Johnny shot fire through the fan, it had spread to every bathroom vent fan in the place.
The entire sanctuary was on fire.
He was no good, a bad kid who had grown into a bad man who started fires and burned everything he touched.
For fuck’s sake, boy, stop dithering and fix your damned mess.
The dragon’s voice penetrated the fog of panic he’d felt. Roused, Johnny made a plan.
He was not going to let one single person get hurt tonight. He would go door to door and help these people get to the front lawn as they were supposed to do in case of an emergency.
He quickly retrieved the panicked lizard from under the bed, then pulled the fire alarm as he headed into the hall.
25
Neve took a deep calming breath as she began her emergency round up. She would clear the east wing to the front lawn, and then come back in and clear the west wing. Angela should be handling the west wing herself, in theory, but Neve knew better than to think that would happen.
Usually Mr. McGrath warned her when they were going to do a drill. She figured it must have been time for the annual surprise evacuation.
She knocked at the first door on the far east wing. No one answered, so she slid her key card.
The acrid scent of smoke hit her hard. Not a drill after all. Probably someone sneaking a cigarette in the bathroom, and set a wastebasket on fire.
“Clarence,” she called, her voice tense with building adrenaline.
He didn’t reply.
She went into the room, but there was no sign of him.
Smoke poured out of the bathroom.
She ventured closer.
The whole bathroom was up in flames.
Without any warning or fanfare, the sprinkler system turned on, and Neve found herself covered in cold water.
The fire in the bathroom raged on, the sprinklers not enough to stop it.
Neve grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and wrapped it around her hand, then pulled the metal knob of the bathroom door to close in the fire. Less oxygen meant less chance of spreading.
Then she dropped the blanket and went on to the next room.
Again, the room was empty.
Again the bathroom was on fire.
She made her way down the hall, checking each room, shutting bathroom doors where she could do so safely.
In the third room she checked, the fire had spread from the baths into the main room. From there on, each room was worse than the one before it. Draperies were burning, beds and carpets ablaze.
By the time she had ascertained that the whole east wing was empty, the hall had filled with smoke.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she followed protocol and headed out to the lawn to count heads.
Clarence stood next to Angela, holding her iPad and helping her take a head count.
“Neve, we’ve got almost everyone from both wings,” Angela cried out proudly.
“Johnny’s not out here,” Clarence said, in a more subdued tone.
Panic shot through Neve’s heart.
“Who else is missing?” she asked with a coolness she didn’t feel.
“That’s all, just Johnny,” Angela said. “But a bunch of people saw him in there. He was getting them all to leave, helping them outside.”
Oh God, no. Johnny was untrained, and off plan.
He was trying to be a hero.
But in her heart she knew it wasn’t true, he wasn’t really looking for fanfare.
She thought of her trip to confront him, when she knew he was alone with Jocelyn. Neve had been ready to bust in the door and start demanding answers. She had been horribly jealous, an ugly feeling that made her ashamed. But it hurt to think that he was just showing off and performing in front of a pretty girl, chasing that high.
When she’d reached the door to his room, she heard him singing and playing the guitar, just like she’d expected. But then an unexpected sound made her pause.
The sound of Jocelyn crying.
“God, Johnny, that’s good for my soul,” Jocelyn had murmured.
“Thank you,” his gruff and heartfelt acknowledgement had carried so much to Neve’s ear that she was nearly crushed with regret.
She had been looking so hard for signs that he was a pompous bad boy that she had misinterpreted his every action to suit that image.
And in so doing, she had missed the real man.
Johnny wasn’t seeking a performance high, at least not for reasons of ego.
The moment of connection she had just heard, that was the real high Johnny Lazarus was after.
Neve understood it, she had felt it herself. It was the high of the healer. She knew it to her own bones.
And it was as a healer that he had performed the night the power went out, soothing the jangled nerves of the other patients.
Embarrassed by her own pride and blindness, she had left his door, never to return to it.
Until now.
Neve headed back inside, heedless of the growing fire and Angela’s protests.
The swirling smoke in the glass reception area looked almost fake, like a musical was about to be performed there, and it was only a special effect.
Neve wrenched off her light sweater and put it over her face to act as a filter. Then she flung open the doors and headed down toward Johnny’s wing.
The sprinklers in the hallway drizzled down on her, but it didn’t seem to be stopping the fire. It must be in the walls and the ventilation system.
By the time she got halfway down the hall, the smoke was too thick to breathe even through her sweater, so she dropped down on the floor where the smoke was thinner and crawled.
She counted rooms since she couldn’t look at room numbers or see far enough ahead or behind to have a sense of where she was.
She didn’t allow herself to think the worst. That she might not find Johnny and they certainly might not make it out.
When she reached his door, she pounded on it.
It was hot to the touch.
No reply.
She stood, wavering on her feet, the smoke and heat making her eyes sting. She reached out with her sweater covering her hand and pulled the handle.
The door wasn’t locked. It squealed open on its hinge and she dropped to the floor again and crawled inside.
The heat in the room was unbelievable, Neve half expected the glass windows to melt.
“Johnny,” she cried hoarsely.
She dragged herself further into the room. It was hard to see with so much fire and smoke. She couldn’t get close to the bed or the window treatments or the walls. Sooner or later the wood floors would catch and she’d be in real trouble.
A horrible groan drew her attention back to the doorway. She turned in time to see a huge section of the ceiling cave in across the door leading back out to the hallway. Now the only way out of the room was a five foot tall mountain of flames.
Neve turned to the windows, but the safety glass was over an inch thick. And it was the only thing between her and falling off the overhang of the cliff.
The adrenaline rush she felt brought a buoyancy to her chest that was at odds with her realization - if Johnny were actually somewhere in this room, the best she could hope for was to die holding his hand.
26
Johnny walked calmly through the smoke toward reception. The sanctuary was empty as far as he could tell.
He made a show of coughing and gasping as he came out the front doors and onto the lawn, though of course the smoke and fire were nothing to him.
“Johnny,” Angela called out happily, jumping up and down, her breasts bouncing with wild abandon in her tight pink sweater.
Clarence stood beside her. He looked up at Johnny and then his mouth went tight.
“Is everyone out?” Johnny asked, scanning the lawn for Neve.
“We’re missing one,” Clarence said quietly. “Neve went back in for you.”
No. Oh god, no.
Johnny looked back to see the windows burst in one of the rooms. Flames shot out, hungry for more oxygen.
He turned without a word and headed back into the lobby doors.
“No, you can’t go back in there, the fire department is coming—” Clarence’s voice faded away as the glass lobby door slammed shut behind Johnny.
“Neve,” Johnny yelled at the top of his lungs.
But of course all he could hear was the cracking flames and the groaning structure.
He began to jog down the hallway toward his room. He couldn’t see two inches in front of himself, and he tripped and nearly fell when he hit the first chunk of collapsed ceiling.
“Neve,” he called out again, as he got his balance and launched himself down the hallway again.
The ceiling seemed to be collapsing around the metal door thresholds - they were probably hotter than anywhere else. Flames exploded out of doorways as he passed, as though he were being welcomed to the catacombs of hell.
“Neve,” he called.
Every few feet he was drizzled with water from the sprinkler system. He wasn’t sure why the sprinklers weren’t working properly. The fire must be in the walls - catching the wiring as well as the bathroom fan vents.
He reached his room. The doorway was nothing but flames.
“Neve,” he called desperately, knowing it was too late, no one could survive the inferno he saw inside.
“Johnny?”
Her voice was hoarse, but strong.
In his chest, the dragon roared.
He stepped through the flaming doorway, and into the room.
The bed, the drapes, the walls, and the ceiling were all ensconced in flames. The wood flooring was rosy with fire licking around the perimeter of the suite.
Kneeling in the center of the room, Neve trembled under the weak spray of the only working ceiling sprinkler.
Droplets of water clung to her hair. Her white scrubs clung to her body. He tried not to let the dragon dwell on the soft curves the wet garment revealed.
“I’m going to get us out of here,” he told her.
She looked over his shoulder and screamed.
He turned to see a dark shape emerge from the flames, ribbons of smoke unfurling at him greedily.
His forearm throbbed and he gasped for breath.
He hadn’t defeated it after all.
The demon poured itself through the air, bypassing him at the last second, and heading instead for Neve.
“No,” he yelled, launching himself after it.
He went through the shadowy creature and landed on top of Neve, knocking them both to the floor, his body covering hers.
The ceiling groaned above them and the droplets still fizzling out of the sprinkler above spluttered out. Neve’s survival time was now limited.
He flipped himself over to face the demon.
He would have to take it out before he could even think about getting Neve to safety.
At least there was no point being careful about it.
Johnny drew on his powers, and hurled a handful of flame at the shad
ow.
It divided itself and the fire passed through it.
Quickly, Johnny shot at it again. It was easier this time, like he was simply releasing the fire from his hands.
His aim was true, and he caught the shadow demon off guard. It let out a high pitched shriek, and the swirling black cloud dissipated as the ball of fire passed through it.
Johnny cheered inwardly and was mentally approaching the problem of how to get Neve out when he saw something that made his heart sink all over again.
As the wall behind the shadow ignited from the blast of flames he had shot at it, the shadow reformed itself.
It wavered slightly as it hung in the air before him. He had hurt it - but not enough.
He just needed to hit it harder, with a bigger flame, maybe more heat.
He pushed with all he had.
Again the scream, then the dissipation.
Then the return of the demon. Though this time it began elongating itself, coiling up as if it were going to try to escape.
Johnny considered.
If he could force it to scatter into a mist like that again, but then immediately engulf every scrap of the cloud with a strong enough flame before it had a chance to reform, he was sure he could destroy it.
But that was more fire than he could produce with his hands.
Desperately, he looked for an exit.
The wall of windows didn’t open, and if he managed to break through them, it would only drop them both off the cliff face.
The ceiling was down in the hall. He could try to carry her through the flames, but she would be unlikely to survive the heat. And he wouldn’t be able to fend off the demon while he was carrying her.
Which meant there was only one solution.
Sadness enveloped his heart.
Johnny knew that if he did what needed to be done, he would never be able to be Johnny Lazarus again.
He could still walk out of this room on his own and crawl to the front door, pretending a miracle escape.
But Neve wouldn’t survive a walk through the flames. And the demon would destroy her even if the fire company got here before she suffocated.
Shifting publicly would mean going into hiding afterward, forgoing his career and his fans, and living a quiet life under cover.
So saving this woman, who was so mad at him she hadn’t talked to him for days, meant going from a rock star to a hermit.
