Little things could be fixed or handled later. I flew up, grabbed a bookcase, and used a pulse of my strength to haul it over. It crashed down with enough force to create gaps between floorboards where there hadn’t been any. There were books and papers on it, but the bookcase was metal, and with any luck it would interrupt the flow of fire across the accelerant. It might buy time, if the fire came from the hallway, or if the fire was traveling from here to the hallway.

I flew to the window, my mouth still covered.

No sign of anyone outside, no flame, no lighter being used or match being struck.

I flew to the bookcase. I’d be sealing myself inside, but if worst came to worst, flying through a wall wouldn’t be making the damage that much worse.

A hand seized me by the throat from behind. A sharp blow across the back of the head disabled the Wretch before it could even unfold, and I was pulled away from the bookcase.

He’d never even left the room.

⊙

I tumbled head over heels, disoriented. The rush of cold air mingled with the odor of the gasoline vapor. I found ‘down’ and flew straight to it. We crashed to the hard floorboards, gasoline soaking the papers that had been scattered across the floor.

Mine. Mine, and you ruined it!

In the wrestling match, each of us exchanged places, one of us on top, the other with back to ground. I was getting gasoline on me, but so was my shadowy attacker.

I saw the hand reach for a weapon and grabbed his wrist. A taser.

As quickly as it had been grabbed, it was dropped. The spark would be a mistake, given our current battlefield.

The computers—black screens.

Hopefully the breaker switch for this room was down or the connection was otherwise a failure. Because those computers being on meant any number of infinitesimally small ways to ignite the gas.

The computers. I had to remember my goals. Even though our attacker was in my hands, it was better to deny the control of the situation, as I’d done before.

I forced my way out of his grip, then barreled straight for the desktop tower that was my at-home computer. Cables were all still plugged in, keyboard, mouse, and monitor were plugged or even screwed in.

I tore at them, letting the easier ones fall free, forcing the remainder.

The aura was affecting my attacker. Where he might have swung a meaty fist at me before, he was holding on tight, as if trying to wait out heavy weather in a bad storm.

As I tried to fly away, he clung to me.

There were too many things to focus on, between the computer tower, the damage to property, the gasoline that could easily see the neighborhood go up in smoke, and my own well being.