He swiped at the man’s coat, flinging fire away. He smacked hard to kill the flames, trying to use his ability to drive the fire off into the darkness. He had no idea if these coats could really burn, but this didn’t seem like the time to find out.

The guy was shouting. It took Gabriel a minute to realize he was yelling at him.

“The floor’s gonna fall! Get to a doorway!”

Gabriel looked up. The ceiling was a blanket of flame.

Shit. He hooked his arms under the fireman’s and started to pull. His jeans were on fire; flames bit against his leg.

Christ, this guy weighed a ton, what with the gear and the oxygen tanks. He was trying to help, though, pushing with his good leg, but it was slow going.

“Tell them,” the guy gasped. “Tell them we’re coming through the back.”

Gabriel gave another good yank that bought them three feet. Maybe the guy had hit his head. Tell them? Tell who?

“Tell them!”

Gabriel could see blisters on the guy’s face. Just how hot was it down here?

“Damn it, man, get on the radio before they send more guys in here.”

The radio.

“Not working,” Gabriel said, coughing through the smoke. “Come on. Almost there.”

Sure, Hunter could help when there was a forty-pound kid to carry. Three hundred pounds of firefighter and equipment, not so much.

Fire was raining from the ceiling now. It stung Gabriel’s cheeks, protesting their escape. He wasn’t entirely sure he was dragging the guy in the right direction, but he was pretty sure the door was straight back.

“Just get out,” the guy coughed. His efforts to help were lacking strength now. “Get out of here before the floor falls.”

Gabriel grunted and dragged. Sweat was streaking down his face, and he was terrified the back door wouldn’t be there when they hit the wall. The flames were too thick to see anything. “How about less talking and more pushing.”

The fireman gave a solid shove, and Gabriel had to adjust his grip. He almost dropped him, and the guy cried out.

Gabriel thought of Nick breaking his leg last weekend. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m—”

“Just go!”

Gabriel pulled.

And then he had help. He didn’t know where they’d come from, but two firefighters were beside him, dragging them through the door that must have been right there, pulling them out of the smoke and flames, getting them into the fresh air.

Someone had a blanket around his shoulders, smacking at the flames on his coat and his legs. Someone else was in his face yelling something about a medic—making Gabriel remember that he had only a helmet and a coat. No pants, no oxygen mask, no tanks.

He probably had about fifteen seconds before all these guys realized he wasn’t who he was pretending to be.