Another girl was by the circulation desk, her skin red and blistered. Not breathing. He picked her up and carried her back to the entrance, pushing through when he didn’t see firemen there.

They were just outside in the hallway, however, in full gear, masks on, radios crackling.

Gabriel shoved the girl at one of them and turned to bolt, but another fireman grabbed him. Gabriel fought, but a second fireman caught his free arm.

They were wrestling him back, pulling him away from the library entrance, shouting something, but he couldn’t understand them through the masks and his fury.

Then Hunter was there, a gun in his hand.

And then he was pointing it at the fireman holding Gabriel.

They let him go real quick.

Gabriel didn’t even think about the implications of this. He just ducked under Hunter’s arm and ran back into the library.

Somehow, the smoke was thicker now. He crawled beneath it while flames snapped at his jeans and curled around his fingers.

He begged the fire to calm itself, to stop the rage.

It refused.

“Nick!” he yelled. “Layne!”

Nothing.

He crawled forward, around a row of bookcases, heading for the back of the library, where he knew Layne usually sat.

And all of a sudden, the smoke wasn’t as dense. He could see flames billowing from the bookcases above him, but the smoke was moving away, toward the entrance.

Nick. Nick had to be doing that.

But fire was everywhere. Bookcases lined the walls, blazing like suns against the cinder block.

Except for the small alcove, where the carpet was on fire.

And Gabriel could see two figures there, just barely out of reach of the flames.

He surged forward, sprinting through the fire. He slid to his knees into the alcove and sent the fire away, creating a bigger space around them.

Layne was crumpled against the wall. Nick was crouched beside her, his eyes clenched shut, his hands in fists. The air here was freezing and thin, and all of a sudden, Gabriel almost couldn’t breathe.

“Nick,” he gasped. “I’ll hold the fire. I need to—”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Nick let go. A blast of cold air rushed through the vents. The fire rejoiced, flaring higher. Gabriel sent it away, toward the entrance, toward the ceiling, promising better things to burn.

And suddenly smoke billowed around them.

Only to retreat when Nick sent it away again.

Gabriel pulled Layne into his arms. She was limp, her skin clammy and warm. Her head flopped onto his shoulder.

But she was breathing.

“She’s okay,” said Nick. His voice was rough and worn. “I made sure she kept breathing. I just couldn’t keep her conscious.”

“Come on. We need to get out of here.”