Nick struggled and wrenched his arm away from him. His head still wasn’t ready for this much movement, and he hit the ground anyway, landing in burning leaves.

“Fine,” said Tyler. He took a step closer to Nick and the fire moved away from him, leaving Nick alone, too. “Do it your way. Face this guy while you can barely stand up.”

“Fuck you,” said Nick, despising that he wasn’t even strong enough to find his brother on his own. “I don’t want your help.”

Gabriel. Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel. Where are you?

“He’s not dead,” said Tyler.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Tyler reached down and scooped up a handful of fire, letting it burn from nothing, a rolling ball of flame suspended over his palm.

Nick stared. He’d seen Gabriel do this hundreds of times. It was unsettling to see the same show of power from Tyler.

“Fire likes him,” said Tyler. “It likes me, too. He’s still alive out here. He’s just hiding.” He glanced up at Nick. “If I can follow the flames to find him, so can the Guide. He’s being smart. Not using his power. Letting the smoke cover him.”

It was covering him and Tyler, too, and Nick could keep the smoke dense around them. But Gabriel was hurt—the air or their twin connection or whatever had told Nick that much.

In a flash, Nick realized that all this panic he was feeling wasn’t just his own. Fear bled through the smoke, riding the very air to find Nick’s senses.

I’ll find you, he thought. I’ll save you.

He remembered playing hide-and-seek with James, and Nick threw power to the wind, opening his senses fully.

Seek.

In his mind, he saw the land as a grid, the atmosphere stretching around him in a circle, locating people like flashing pinpoints on a map. Him and Tyler. Quinn and Adam, running like hell.

The Guide, a flare of power so bright that Nick wondered how the guy had snuck up on them at the dance studio.

And Gabriel, a fading light. Not far. Maybe fifty feet straight ahead.

Nick’s temper flared and the air responded, shifting, moving the smoke. Wind whipped through the trees, bringing debris and flaming sparks to sting his skin.

“This way,” he said to Tyler, and started walking.

Tyler caught his arm. “He has a gun.”

More wind, blowing harder. It ruffled Nick’s hair and fed him power, sending smoke spiraling. “He shot my brother.” Then he jerked free.

Nick kept his mind focused on the Guide, letting his wind swoop and whirl, remembering his demonstration for Quinn, the way he’d surrounded her with leaves.

This time, he did it with fire.