Baptism of Fire (Playing With Hellfire Book 1)

by Jessie Thomas

  It was then that I realized my ears were ringing, the roar of Hellfire silenced.

  Cassia’s parting gift.

  A warm hand settled on my shoulder. “Nix.”

  I turned around sluggishly on all fours, kicking up a nasty cloud of demon ash when I moved to find Javier lowered onto a knee. His clothes were a little torn and covered in smoky dust, but he was alive and breathing. That’s all that mattered.

  Without thinking too much about it, I pulled him into a hug, my arms flung tightly around his neck. I was drenched in sweat, boiling hot to the touch, but he held me just as close as I held him. His fingers tangled in my hair as he cradled the back of my head in his palm.

  “So that’s how you kill a demon.” My words were muffled into his waistcoat. For a moment, I could close my eyes and let the burden I’d carried—the vengeance that had burned so fiercely I thought I’d kill me—fall away.

  “Yeah.” The rumble of his laugh vibrated in my chest. “That’s how it’s done.”

  When I untangled myself from him, Javier was reluctant to let go, his words betraying the look in his eyes and the way his fingers buried in my hair.

  He let go, and even though I was still very much blistering hot, I shivered without the softness of his hands on me. It seemed to leave an imprint once he left. He got to his feet, the ashes shuffling under his shoes like sandpaper. I took the hand he offered to me and leaned on it more heavily than I would’ve liked, my knees wobbling. It was an effort just to stand on my own. But I hadn’t passed out like last time, so it was somewhat of an improvement.

  I grabbed his hand, holding tight. “Together?”

  His slow, lopsided grin was the only reassurance I needed.

  Hellfire had singed the old brick and wood and left behind a faint trace of sulfur that would probably take a while to air out. The blaze hadn’t spread past the top two floors, but it ravaged the stairwell enough to make navigating down them a risk in itself. The old building had stood for well over a hundred years. I could only hope that it would withstand thousands of dollars in fire damage the demons had inflicted on it. The gaping hole in the top floor hallway might’ve been an issue for later.

  The owner probably wouldn’t be too happy about that one.

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that our law-abiding, virtuous friends in fire investigation had already launched its extensive cover up before the smoke had a chance to clear—something Javier and I would find ourselves in the middle of once our jobs were made official. However they chose to sweep this nasty incident under the rug, it would take a lot of heavy-lifting. Countless expensive bribes. Oblivious firefighters who knew their department was under attack but weren’t curious enough to go looking in the secret corners of their city for the culprits.

  The Hellfire wouldn’t be easy to hide. Who knew how many had seen the eerie, electric blue light through the windows? The staff would have a lot to say about the weird circumstances of their coworker’s death, or so I hoped. And the police department had lost a cop, though I had a strong feeling that story would never see the light of day.

  This whole thing would be a clusterfuck.

  Javier and I put out the last of the smoldering embers in the main banquet hall just as the fire crew outside finally bulldozed their way through the front doors. It was now free from any stray demons. Zahira’s nullification had done its work.

  The firefighters gaped at us like we were two phantoms gliding through the withering smoke. Javier and I were both exhausted, stumbling through the wreckage of the gala and not really in the mood for their judge-y stares.

  Maybe they thought we were the arsonists.

  While we were barked at to move faster toward the exit, one firefighter had the common sense to ask, “Is there anyone else in here?”

  “No,” Javier answered at the same time I replied, “Just us.”

  “Where’s the fire floor?” This was a newer, and likely more naïve voice.

  “Up top,” I said. “But you won’t find it. You’re a little late.”

  The mystified silence spoke volumes. As proof of the department’s speedy cover up job, I heard the hiss of water outside, the shouts of commands while the crew took over. They were wasting water on a fire that no longer existed. All of this to save face. Javier and I exchanged looks, and the responding firefighters brushed past us.

  “Keep moving,” a firefighter urged.

  We were dumped out into the sultry night, the humidity hitting me with more force than the smoke we’d left in our wake. Steams of water spilled across the ruts in the pavement and lapped against the shoes of the cops just standing around.

  A crowd had formed on the sidewalks beyond where the street had been closed off to traffic. We ducked past all the curious stares and wandering eyes and whispered questions, trying our best to disappear among them. Swarms of emergency vehicles lined the block up ahead in both directions with a handful news trucks eagerly attempting to weasel their way in. It was loud and bright and more hectic than the mayhem the demons had dragged us through tonight.

  I just wanted to go home and faceplant directly into my couch.

  My muscles screamed in protest. It seemed like something beyond aches and tiredness, a whole new level of pain I hadn’t felt since I woke up in the hospital.

  I clutched Javier’s arm as we walked, the mix of adrenaline and fatigue giving me the shakes. He steered us through a clearing where the waves of people subsided, peering around bodies to catch any sign of our friends.

  “Do you see them?”

  “Nah,” Javier said. “Gonna be impossible in this crowd.” I leaned into him when my legs faltered, and he noticed, hooking an arm around my back. He’d lost his nice suit jacket somewhere in the upstairs hallway. “First thing’s first: let’s find you someplace to sit.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, though it was a blatant lie.

  Javier wasn’t fooled. But I wanted to find our team first. My desperate need to know that they were safe outweighed anything I might’ve felt. I could push through it until I was completely sure they were okay. And then I’d collapse.

  Maybe now my sleep would come without nightmares attached. Maybe I’d appeased the demons in my subconscious by watching Marcus turn to ash.

  I hoped Moretti slept easy.

  “Yeah, you keep saying that,” Javier said. “Doesn’t make the denial any more convincing.”

  “I’m just happy I’m still conscious.”

  “Want me to flag down a paramedic?”

  “No. That’s not…I don’t—I can’t deal with all of that right now. Hard pass. What would I tell them? ‘Hey, I just killed a demon and I feel like my body’s going to implode?’”

  “You sound like Gemma.” Javier laughed. “They’d probably take one look and say some bullshit about heat exhaustion.”

  “It’s not…entirely wrong.”

  He waved off the concerned look of a paramedic camped out in the back of her ambulance but grabbed the gray, wool blanket she offered.

  “Santos, it’s sweltering.”

  “Is it? Hadn’t really noticed.”

  Javier moved his arm to take my elbow as we squeezed past a group of chatty firefighters and spouses, the light from their phone screens glaring onto their faces. I remembered my own phone tucked into one pocket of my pants, wondering if it had survived the intensity of the heat.

  If it did, I knew I’d find it clogged with messages. If it didn’t, it would still be jammed with unread messages and I’d probably arrive back at my apartment to see Aunt Meg wearing an anxious path across my living room floor. I wouldn’t put it past her to drive all the way into the city to find me if our thread of communication had been severed. All things considered in the past several weeks, she had every right to worry.

  With the blanket spread out on a safe patch of sidewalk, Javier eased me down onto it and then perched on the curb. We elicited a lot of stares, our faces and clothes plastered with an unreasonable amount of grime. I coul
d practically see the news anchors across the street itching for an interview if the cops and fire officials didn’t get handsy—or suspicious—first.

  “We shouldn’t stay long.” The cops nearby weren’t anywhere near subtle. We were drawing all kinds of unwanted attention. My damn legs wouldn’t stop shaking, but I forced myself to stand. If I stayed any longer, someone would have to scrape my broken ass off the sidewalk like a dead fly on a windowsill if they wanted to haul me to jail.

  “Whoa—hey,” Javier warned.

  “It’s all right,” I insisted, yet again. “I’d rather we didn’t get locked up for a fire we didn’t start because they don’t have anyone else to blame.”

  “Point taken.” He held me up as we walked, abandoning our post, weaving away from the crowds. I thought I saw a wisp of pastel pink hair and called out Gemma’s name.

  She and Ozias turned around and my heart finally settled.

  They were across the street with Jodi, who looked stoic and tight-lipped as ever. She seemed relieved, at least, to see the two of us alive.

  Ozias had his tie undone and hanging across the back of his neck. “Took you long enough.”

  “Oof, you don’t look so hot, babe,” Gemma said. She pushed the frame of her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose with her index finger.

  “I feel even worse, thanks,” I said. “What happened with the incendiaries?”

  She made a face, accompanied by an indifferent hand gesture. “They scattered like rats in a flooded subway after Zahira nullified them. She had to sneak out quick before PCU caught her up to no good.”

  “I didn’t plan on ditching you,” I told her. “Cassia had other ideas.”

  “Where’d she run to?” Ozias asked.

  “Don’t know,” Javier answered. “She helped Nix take down Marcus, though. Saved us some work with that Hellfire, too.”

  “We can’t assume her allegiances will stay that way,” Jodi reasoned. “We’ll have to worry about all of that later.” She looked past us to the flashing lights and sighed. “I’ll be dealing with damage control for the next seventy two-hours. Have you been checked out by a medic, Victoria? You’re probably dehydrated, you should get yourself to the ER to take care of that.”

  I groaned. “No. I can handle myself just fine.”

  “What if I made it an order?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Because you know my disciplinary record is spotless,” I muttered. “No thanks.”

  Javier jabbed a thumb in the direction of the shady-looking fire officials rubbing elbows with the cops.

  “Lieutenant,” he got Jodi’s attention, “anything we gotta worry about? They’re looking for someone to put in cuffs.”

  Jodi’s brow furrowed, more out of annoyance than anything. “I’ll handle that, Santos. You’re victims here. Your records will prove that, and if anyone starts placing blame, I’ll fight it. Every step. I meant that. It might be another unsolved case sitting in the basement, but we’ll know better. He’s gone.”

  I was still too messed up to fully appreciate that, for now, it was over.

  “It’s dangerous work, more than anyone around us will ever realize, but I can’t thank all of you enough for doing it. For the sacrifices you’ve made,” she continued. “We’ll see what our next step is later. For now, recover and take some time away. If you’ll excuse me, I’m on clean up duty. A lot of phone calls and excuses to make.”

  “Next step?” Gemma asked after Jodi crossed the street. “Is she serious? She owes me a check, first of all. Then maybe we’ll talk. I was totally not even joking about that.” She drew in a breath, rummaging through a pocket in her dress for her phone. “Well, good work, team. That wasn’t the complete, unmitigated disaster it could’ve been. I’m starving. Anyone want to grab some food?”

  “I’m going to bed,” I decided. Any hunger I felt had been cancelled out by how utterly exhausted I was.

  Ozias raised his hand. “I’ll take you up on that offer. Those fancy ass appetizers didn’t do it for me.”

  Gemma looked hopeful. “Wings? I’m feeling like wings.”

  “Next time,” Javier declined. His hand moved down to the small of my back again, a light, barely-there press of his fingertips. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

  27

  I dozed off in the Camaro on the drive back to my building, a fact that I wasn’t entirely aware of until a gentle hand nudged my arm and roused me from sleep. One minute, I’d been buckling in my seatbelt—a spare thought given to the fact that the streetlights were on, so the power failure had been ours alone—and the next, Javier was leaning over to unbuckle it for me. A stiff numbness had already settled into my other arm from being pressed up against the door, my head nestled in the corner where the headrest met the car’s frame. I tried to stretch and almost whacked Javier in the nose. He dodged it with expert reflexes and pushed the driver’s side door open.

  “Sorry.” The word came out in a groggy slur. I could tell that the nap hadn’t really helped in the sense that I thought it would. There was a drunk buzz in my veins. It wasn’t the pleasant kind. Disorienting. The world a little blurred around the edges. It made me feel too vulnerable, still not entirely in control of myself. I decided I didn’t like being conscious after my power depleted me.

  “What day is it?”

  He ducked his head as if it would hide the exhale through his nose when he laughed.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “You weren’t out that long. Fifteen minutes.”

  Long enough for me to get a stiff neck.

  “I feel like shit.”

  My personal mantra, returning for the thrilling sequel.

  Javier closed his door and moved around to the passenger side, pulling my door open before I had the awareness to reach the handle. “Like I said, it’s a muscle, right? That’s all it is. You build it up, you get that strength in you, and it won’t make you feel like you’re half-dead every time you use it.”

  I took his hand when he helped me out of the car and almost fell back into the seat. We crossed the empty street, sirens still wailing somewhere off in the distance. A sound more common than crickets or birdsong.

  My trembling fingers closed around the set of keys in my pocket. But whatever I tugged out my pocket wasn’t in the shape of a key anymore. A half-melted knot of metal, it was still hot to the touch. That didn’t bode well for my phone, either.

  I stared at the hunk of twisted keys like it’d turned into an eldritch monster. “I…didn’t even think about that,” I admitted. “Next time, I’ll clear my pockets.”

  Javier winced. “Forgot to warn you,” he said. “Lost two phones already—realized too late how much heat we give off burning up demons. Hellfire is one thing, incendiaries are a whole other kind of fire. You have a spare set of keys?”

  “I’ll have someone let us in.” Pressing the buzzer with one shaky, uncoordinated thumb, I silently hoped my neighbor across the hall was home. It was still relatively early by Perdition Falls’ standards, but I knew he liked to meet with friends for a late coffee sometimes. “There should be a spare key under my welcome mat, but if not, we might have to take a drive to my aunt’s in the suburbs.”

  Javier shrugged one shoulder, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You could always stay at the house.”

  He looked so sheepish at the offer that I felt bad for staring at him.

  The door clicked open and my neighbor, Noah, appeared, the aroma of coffee from the downstairs shop wafting out onto the sidewalk to greet us. The worry lines that creased his forehead smoothed out once he found me, relief flooding in. He stepped aside without asking any questions about the soot on our ruined clothes or the fact that Javier was the one holding me upright.

  “I saw the news,” Noah said once the door closed. The dim overhead light turned the gray in his red hair silver. His words echoed in the vacant lobby, desolate and solemn. Understanding. “Are you all okay?”

  “For now.”

  �
��If you need anything, and I mean that—you know I do, Nix—all you have to do is knock. We aren’t the only pyros in the building, and I think maybe it’s time you learned that. We’re a community, remember.”

  That didn’t surprise me as much as it probably should have.

  “Thank you,” I answered. “I’ll remember that.”

  Noah hugged me gingerly before disappearing into the coffee shop.

  There was a possibility that I blacked out somewhere on the stairs. I had very little memory of actually getting up them, just the vague notion that maybe I had but it was better forgotten. Four whole floors in the balmy heat, with my body not willing to cooperate, with my knees wanting to give out every few steps. Javier had the patience of a saint. I had a vice-like grip around his back and a fistful of his waistcoat until we were outside my door.

  He bent down to flip one corner of the mat. “We have a key.”

  The sliver of brass glinted from between his fingers.

  “Great.” I huffed a relaxed sigh. “Now we don’t have to let my aunt see me like this. She doesn’t need that again.”

  The door creaked on its hinges, a stuttering whine. I held my breath as we crossed the threshold, expecting to find Cassia sprawled across my couch, all emerald silk and Hellfire dancing in her palm. But it was empty and dark with only the drone of the fans I’d left on. Javier followed me in and stood at the center of the tiny living room while my feet had other ideas.

  All I’d wanted to do was collapse into the couch, yet the moment we’d stepped through the door, my body hummed with a sudden restlessness.

  It was as if being home had given my emotions permission to return and gang up on me all at once. They thought it was safe, the surge of adrenaline gone, the heat fading back into dormancy. I was frantic but too tired to work it out. With every part of me shaking like a leaf in a howling storm, I moved to the shelf in the kitchen where I kept the wine and hard liquor.