Blown (Elemental Series Book 2)

by Rose Wulf

  “Let’s g—!” Paula cried, her voice overridden as another explosion rocked the kitchen.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey,” Nate called gently as a warm hand landed on Madison’s shoulder. He came into her line of sight a beat later, concern tugging his lips into a frown. “Are you okay?”

  Madison looked up at him through smoke-reddened eyes and pursed her lips. She knew what he was asking. Before her the diner was still burning, despite the efforts of the multiple fire trucks parked haphazardly in and around the parking lot. An ambulance was parked at the curb, right before the blocked main driveway. And she was leaning against the hood of her car, an empty bottle of water in her hands, probably looking more than a little dazed.

  Taking a deep breath, Madison let her eyes return to the building and quietly replied, “I’ll live.”

  Nate’s hand squeezed her shoulder for a moment before releasing her altogether, and he asked, “Should you be talking to the paramedics?”

  Madison shook her head, her eyes automatically flicking in the direction of the ambulance. There had been two earlier, but one had left for the hospital already. “No,” she said. “I already talked to them.” To prove her claim, she lifted one arm and revealed the awkward bandage that ran along the back of her bicep. “I got off lucky,” she continued, letting her arm fall back to her lap as Nate’s frown deepened. “One of the guys in the back of the kitchen got burned pretty badly. No one knows what’ll happen to him. I just got hit by a flying piece of burning plastic.”

  Nate released a heavy breath and the smoke lingering around them seemed to scatter, as if fleeing from them. “Damn, Madison,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  The suddenly crisp, clean air was too much for her raw throat and Madison choked for a moment, having to swallow several times as she breathed. Despite the stinging of the familiar, salty air, it felt good. And as weird as the dispersing smoke had been, it was a gift she had no intentions of looking into. A thought occurred to her, then, and she looked back up at him as she asked, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  Jerking one thumb over his shoulder, toward a small group of her co-workers and their loved ones, he said, “I came with Blake.”

  Her eyes moved past him, and she registered the sight of Blake standing beside his fiancé in the small gathering. He had an arm wound around Brooke’s waist and she was leaning into him ever so slightly. And a little spark of jealousy was born in Madison’s heart. Where was her knight in shining armor when she could use a little rescuing? Maybe I should get a dog. Releasing a breath, Madison let her eyes land on her empty bottle and said, “Thanks for checking on me, but you don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

  ****

  Nate studied her, his frown practically carved into place. Something tugged at his heart. She looked so lonely and heartbreakingly resigned that all he could think was that he needed to do something. “I can stay,” he said. “They don’t need a third wheel right now, anyway. And I’d bet you could use the company.”

  Her grip tightened on the bottle, but she didn’t look up. “I’ll be fine, really,” she repeated.

  He’d been debating on how, exactly, he should call her out on her avoidance when he saw her swallow heavily and snap her eyes shut. She took a deep breath, her body tensing, and his decision was made. He moved easily, turning and situating himself on the hood beside her. As he let one hand land gingerly on her shoulder once more, he said, “I don’t have any pie at home, but I know an ice cream place that’s still open if you’re interested?”

  She took a deep breath and turned to face him, a faint, grateful smile tugging at her lips. “Actually, a cheap fast-food milkshake sounds delicious.” Pausing, Madison extracted her keys from a pocket and held them toward him before adding, “But … you’ll need to drive.”

  Nate offered her a lopsided grin and accepted the keys with his free hand. “I’d be honored,” he assured her.

  Madison hesitated as they pushed to their feet and asked, “What about your brother? Won’t he look for you?”

  “Nah,” Nate assured her. “Besides, he’ll call if he misses me.”

  She frowned and said, “You should at least let him know you’re leaving so he doesn’t worry about you.”

  Nate opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed his mouth as he pulled his smartphone from his pocket. “I’ll text him,” he offered, holding the device up for emphasis.

  “That’s acceptable,” Madison agreed. Gesturing to the car, she added, “You’ll have to unlock it.”

  Barely a minute later Nate was easing the Mazda out the back drive, Madison leaning gingerly against her seat beside him. He’d caught enough of a glimpse of her shirt to see that she probably had a few uncomfortable burns, as well as the damage to her arm. But she was right; she would be fine. And he suspected she had no idea of how lucky she really was, though they didn’t know for sure yet if their enemies were behind the fire. Worry about that later, he chided himself as he navigated the familiar streets. Instead he asked, “Now, are you sure you only want a fast-food milkshake? ‘Cause I know some places that make decent milkshakes.”

  Madison smiled without lifting her head from the cool glass and said, “Fast food places have drive-throughs. I’m not going into any place looking like this.”

  “Fair enough,” Nate replied. His lips twitched again, but not up. For whatever reason, he was feeling incredibly bothered by the fact that she’d gotten hurt. And she could’ve been hurt a lot worse. And maybe it was his fault, or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know and he didn’t care. He just wanted to pull her close and let her cry on his shoulder until the pain was gone.

  After hitting up the local McDonald’s for two large, thick milkshakes, Nate pointed Madison’s Mazda toward home. They rode in silence, Nate’s milkshake waiting patiently in the drink holder and Madison’s numbing her hands as she continuously took long pulls on her straw. Then he was pulling into the garage, hitting the button attached to her visor to lower the door behind them, and he realized he was going to have to break the silence.

  As he pulled the keys from the ignition he glanced toward her and asked, “You want some company?”

  Madison stalled, pulling her lip between her teeth as she stared distractedly out the windshield. Several seconds passed before she took a deep breath, offered him a small smile, and said, “No, thank you. I’ll be fine from here.”

  Nate’s eyes crinkled along with the slight dip of his lips, but he held out her keys calmly and said, “If you’re sure. But I’ll be home for the rest of the night, so if you change your mind….”

  Madison’s smile broadened a bit as she accepted her keys and inclined her head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She held his gaze for another beat and softly added, “Thank you, Nate.”

  It was all he could do not to kiss her.

  Nate dropped onto his couch after walking Madison to her door. He glared up at his ceiling, his mind running with everything that had—and could have—happened that night. But, mostly, he found himself wondering why it bothered him so much that those things had happened to her. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense that he would be so bothered by the injuries she’d sustained or the danger she’d been in. But he couldn’t deny that he was. He was incredibly bothered. And pissed off.

  His phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts, and he reached over, picking it up from the couch at his side. The Caller ID informed him it was his brother, so he put it to his ear, saying, “Hey, Blake. How’s Brooke?”

  Blake’s voice was tight and controlled, a tell-tale sign that he was upset, when he replied, “She’s all right. She was far enough away from the explosions and the fire that she didn’t actually get hurt. She just inhaled too much smoke.”

  “That’s something to be grateful for,” Nate said. And he really was glad that his future sister-in-law hadn’t gotten hurt. He was just distracted.

  “Yeah,” Blake said. After a beat, he added, “Are you abl
e to talk?”

  Knowing his brother was trying to ask if he was alone, Nate kept his tone light as he replied, “Yeah. What’s up? Did you figure anything out?”

  “I haven’t heard anything from Dean yet,” Blake began, “but Brooke said she saw Jacob leaving the diner a few minutes before the fire started. He’d been sitting at a back booth, out of her section, with an older man.”

  Nate’s voice was tighter as he said, “We’d have to assume that’s his Old Man, then.”

  “Exactly,” Blake agreed.

  “So it wasn’t a regular accident,” Nate mumbled, thinking aloud. The revelation didn’t surprise him.

  “No,” Blake echoed.

  “This is ridiculous,” Nate declared, propelling himself to his feet. He began to pace around his spacious living room as he added, “These creeps keep coming after the people we care about, but the only time they came after us was when they attacked Angela months ago. And she doesn’t have a power that would actually help her to fight back. They’re cowards!”

  “I don’t disagree,” Blake said, his voice as controlled as ever despite his brother’s decreasing mood.

  Practically ignoring Blake’s words, Nate continued, “I almost wish they would just come at us directly. It’s not like it’d be hard to catch us all in one spot. And then at least this would be over with!”

  Blake was quiet for a moment before he said, “That would probably be a double-edged sword.” He hesitated again, clearly weighing his words, and then asked, “Nate, is there something else going on with you? I didn’t expect you to be this upset.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be upset?” Nate challenged thoughtlessly.

  Without hesitation or inflection, Blake replied, “Because it was my fiancé they were probably targeting?”

  Nate deflated slightly, cringing, and said, “Sorry; I didn’t mean anything.”

  “I know,” Blake assured him. “Now answer the question.”

  Breathing out a heavy sigh, Nate finally slumped against a wall and asked, “What if it wasn’t just Brooke they were targeting? The explosions happened in the kitchen. Brooke’s not guaranteed to be in there.”

  “No, but if Jacob’s father was watching, he’d have known that she went in the back,” Blake pointed out.

  “Yes,” Nate agreed, “but wouldn’t it have been easier, if Brooke was the target, to wait until she was getting into her car after work? I mean, this is the first time they’ve been so blatant about disregarding bystanders, right?”

  Blake paused again before responding, slowly asking, “That’s true … what are you getting at?”

  “What if we were right to worry,” Nate began, “and they really are coming after Madison now, too?”

  The stretch of silence was longer this time as Blake took in his brother’s words. At length, he said, “That’s a possibility we should really consider. But tell me … is that why you’re so on edge right now?”

  “Yeah,” Nate admitted on a sigh. “She got hurt. Nothing serious, just some burns and one nasty cut, but it shook her up. And she doesn’t have anyone around here, really. I’m worried about her.”

  There was almost a smile in Blake’s voice when he spoke again. “It’s more than that, Nate. You’re attracted to her.”

  “Which is unfortunate for her,” Nate grumbled bitterly. “And don’t you dare go thinking this is funny.”

  “I don’t,” Blake promised, the levity in his voice already gone. “And I’m sorry she got hurt.”

  “Me, too,” Nate replied. His eyes rolled to the side, toward his covered sliding glass door that he used as his main entrance, as he tried to see beyond the curtain and through the glass. If he was right, and their enemies really were going after her now, too, then he would have to do a better job of keeping an eye on her.

  ****

  For the next couple of days Madison mostly stayed inside and kept to herself. Her mother had called in panic after receiving the long email, and they’d talked on the phone until Missy realized she was late for work. When a more decent hour rolled around, Madison called Paula to check in. And that was when she learned that the two cooks who had been taken to the hospital the night before were going to pull through, even despite their horrible burns. The diner, however, had been largely destroyed by the fire. It wasn’t likely to be open again until late in the year, assuming the weather didn’t end up stalling construction.

  “We can’t afford to keep everyone,” Paula admitted somberly, her voice uncharacteristically downcast. “The reconstruction is just going to be too expensive. But we’d like to keep you, if you don’t mind a temporary decrease in pay. We want to keep as many people as we can, and right now that means trying to make the money stretch.”

  It wasn’t a great offer, but considering she’d been worried that her job was now past-tense, Madison knew better than to turn it down. “Of course I’ll stay, Paula. And let me know if there’s anything I can do to help in the meantime.”

  Madison kept to herself beyond that. She had errands that she had been intending to run on Thursday, but she couldn’t motivate herself to do them now that they could be done on Friday or Saturday. And she wanted to thank Nate for his help—and his attention—but she didn’t know how to go about it. So she opted to take the next couple of days to plan her “thank you” and figure out how to push past her sudden fear of exploding kitchens.

  ****

  “It looks like they used the same trick that they used to burn down Brooke’s apartment before,” Dean declared late Friday morning. He, Nate, and Logan were gathered in Blake and Brooke’s house to discuss what little updated news they had about the attack on the diner.

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” Brooke grumbled from her seat beside Blake.

  “What sort of trick are we talking about?” Nate asked, leaning forward to see Dean around Logan.

  Eyes narrowed in thought, Dean replied, “It reads like an electrical surge in the wiring. But other than ‘it probably involves lightning,’ I really couldn’t tell you.”

  Nate released a breath and looked back toward Brooke, asking, “What’s going to happen with the diner?”

  “I talked to Paula yesterday,” Brooke began, “and she says they’re going to try and rebuild. I think she’s hoping to be up and running in time for the winter break crowd in December.”

  “Earl already approached us about the reconstruction,” Logan added calmly, referring to his construction company. “We’ll be getting started as soon as he gives us the green light.”

  “What I don’t get,” Dean began, frustration heavy in his voice, “is why they do something like this, and then disappear for a while. I mean what the hell? If they wanted to come at us, why not come at us as soon as we all get together?”

  For a beat, no one spoke. Nate had said much the same thing during his call with Blake on Wednesday, and he imagined Logan had had similar thoughts at least once as well.

  At length, Blake suggested, “Maybe they’re not as strong as they want us to think they are. Maybe they need a recharge period, like we do if we transform.”

  “That would actually make sense,” Logan commented thoughtfully.

  “Yeah,” Nate agreed, “but there are two of them, right? That we know about, at least. So why not use the weaker one for the distraction that brings us together and then the stronger one can strike. Are they stupid? Or are they deliberately dragging this out?”

  Again, silence settled heavily over the group. It was Brooke who broke it, saying, “This is about some twisted revenge on an ancient feud, right? Their family has been dragging this out for generations … maybe they don’t even intend to end things with you?”

  “They want us to suffer,” Blake summarized, eyes narrowed at the coffee table in front of him.

  “It’s a possibility,” Brooke said.

  “That would explain their targets,” Logan agreed. “And their tactics.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Dean growled, popping to his feet and
pacing out of the living room. “What, they want us to live the rest of our lives hiding in fear from them?”

  “We should probably consider that, yeah,” Blake said, lifting his eyes to watch his brother stalk through his house.

  Dean stomped back into the room, fists clenched at his sides, and snapped, “Well fuck that! I’m not living in fear of anyone; none of us should!”

  “Dean,” Logan said calmly, eyes slightly narrowed, “calm down before you burn a hole in Blake’s floor.”

  “Dean’s right, though,” Nate declared, pushing to his feet as well. “We shouldn’t spend our time worrying about what they’re going to do next. We should focus on trying to find a way to bring them to us so we can end this and move on with our lives.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” Blake reminded. “We still don’t know who we’re dealing with. We don’t know Jacob’s last name, or his father’s first name, and we have no idea how to find them when they disappear.”

  “Well we have to try,” Nate asserted firmly. Kirk—and now Madison—had been dragged into this fight because of him. He didn’t want anyone else getting hurt. And he didn’t want either of them getting hurt again. “I need some air,” he grunted as he started briskly toward the door. They could have as many “meetings” about the situation as they wanted. At the end of the day, they still knew next to nothing. They had no leads, no breadcrumbs to follow—nothing. And it was frustrating.

  Nate drove the long way home, trying to let the surge of crisp air rushing by seep into his muscles and relax them. He detoured to Kirk’s, pulling all the way into the driveway before remembering it was Friday morning and his friend was still at work. So he drove past his family’s house, just to make sure everything looked all right, and then he begrudgingly pointed his motorcycle toward home. Madison’s car was still parked exactly the way he’d left it when he’d brought her home the night of the fire, and the curtains were all closed in her windows. She was still shut up in her house, like she had been when he’d left. He wanted to go over and check on her, to help her deal with whatever trauma she was suffering through, but he didn’t know how.