Angel's Touch (34 page)

Kira was so full of shit. “But you don’t smell anything. And besides, the fire alarms aren’t going off.”

Kira checked her pocket for her keys. “They’re not going to. They’re not in service.”

Megan’s stomach dropped. “What? Why not?”

“We always take them out of service during a job. Otherwise the dust from the construction would constantly set them off. They’re a nuisance.”

“But what if something catches fire?”

“Yeah. That could be a problem.”

“At least the sprinklers would go off, right?” She was pretty sure hotels were required to have those in every room.

“We don’t fill the sprinklers until we’re mostly done with everything else. It’s too easy to break the sprinkler heads, and then you’ve got a big, soggy mess on your hands.”

“But that’s dangerous!”

“Not really. The hotel’s not cleared for occupancy. It’s not like we have guests smoking in there. And most of the electricity’s cut off, so there’s not much danger of an electrical fire.”

“I’m starting to see why you’re willing to believe that I smell something.” The whole setup sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Did she really have no fire protection at all? “What about those fire alarms that detect heat, not smoke?”

Kira looked pained. “Megan. It’s just you and that nose of yours, okay?”

“Do you really believe me, or are you just afraid of what might happen if I’m right?”

Kira planted her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Do you want me to not believe you?”

“Of course not,” Megan said meekly. Kira was going out of her way to take her seriously. The least she could do was stop fighting her.

“Good.”

“I’m just not used to it,” Megan added.

“You’ll get used to it,” Kira said matter-of-factly. “Now let’s go.”

There was an angel at the hotel’s front door. Guarding? Welcoming? A random coincidence? Megan couldn’t tell. Kira’s key ring jingled as she searched for the key she wanted. The angel unfurled her wings and splayed herself against the door.

Okay, thanks for the clarification.

“Kira?” Megan said hesitantly.

Kira stuck the key in the lock, her arm passing through the angel’s transparent form.

“No!” Megan threw herself at Kira, gripping her arm to stop her from opening the door.

“What is it?”

“There’s an angel here. She doesn’t want us to go inside.”

“Okay…” Kira sounded doubtful, but she pulled the key out of the lock and let Megan lead her a few steps away from the door. “Does that mean I need to call the fire department? I still don’t smell anything, but if you do…”

“I still smell it.”

“Let’s go around and check the back. Maybe we’ll see something from there.”

The angel floated contentedly beside them, so Megan figured they were on the right track. When they rounded the corner of the building, their companion whooshed ahead and stopped by one of the ground-floor windows of the section that was not being turned into the spa, but would remain hotel rooms.

“She’s waiting for us,” Megan said.

Kira spotted the broken window before Megan did. “If someone broke in here and stole the copper pipes again…” Her voice trailed off. “Shit. I smell it now.” She stomped right up to the window, heedless of the shrubbery, and peered inside.

Megan hung back. The smell of something burning was definitely stronger here. “Do you see anything?”

“Yeah.” Kira sounded strangely calm.

Megan took a few halting steps closer. “What do you see?”

“Stand back.”

“Why do
I
have to stand back?” Kira had better not do anything stupid, like crawl in through the broken window. “What’s going on in there?”

Kira pulled out her phone and started punching in numbers. “That carpet was supposed to be nonflammable.”

A jolt of fear hit Megan in the solar plexus. It was happening again—her karma playing itself out. Again. Her legs were frozen in place, paralyzed, pulling her back into her old dream where she couldn’t run because her legs were tied.

But this wasn’t a dream. Megan snapped herself out of her paralysis and ran toward Kira. She could see smoke now. Kira was standing too close, watching through the window, mesmerized, holding the phone to her ear. She had to get her away from that window. Megan took her arm and tugged. “What are you doing? Get back.”

“Hang on.” Kira pointed to her phone.

“We need to get out of here.” She didn’t want to interrupt her conversation with the 911 operator, but Kira was going to have to continue her call from a safer distance.

The floor-to-ceiling drapes burst into a wall of flame and they both jumped back.

“Come on.” Megan dragged Kira away from the building. The angel was drifting through the parking lot toward the woods, so Megan headed that way too, adrenaline fueling her legs.

“I think we’re far enough back now.” Kira slowed to a stop, forcing Megan to stop too.

While Kira finished her call, the angel flew straight to one of the trees at the edge of the parking lot and circled it at high speed, around and around, like it was caught in an invisible tornado.

Megan pointed. “Something’s going on by that tree.”

Kira was still staring at her burning hotel. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. But that angel is…acting weird.”

“She’s playing a bad game of charades with you again?”

“How did you—”

The angel stopped whirling.

“I think she heard you,” Megan said.

“Why? What’s she doing now?”

The angel hovered in front of the tree, leaning sideways like she was peeking behind it.

“I think something’s behind that tree.”

“The arsonist?” Kira hissed, fury garbling her attempt to whisper. “Which tree?”

“Follow me.”

They quieted their footsteps and came closer, angling off to the right so they could see if there really was someone back there.

And there was.

Barbara Fenhurst was standing with her back as close to the trunk of the tree as she could get. In her hand was a can of gasoline.

The angel vanished, her message delivered.

“What are you doing?” Megan cried, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. Barbara was the one who had set fire to the hotel? Barbara was capable of this?

Her former client turned tail and ran.

Megan chased her into the woods, clenching her toes in her flip-flops, praying she didn’t trip. Kira was faster. She quickly overtook Barbara and caught her around the waist from behind and tried to push her to the ground, but although Kira was a fast runner, she unfortunately wasn’t going to win any tackling awards. Barbara bucked like a rodeo horse, trying to throw her off. Kira held on, but Barbara was much bigger and heavier, easily outweighing her two-to-one, and Kira’s wiry strength was not enough to overpower her.

“I could use some help here,” Kira called.

Megan caught up and tried to catch hold of Barbara’s arms.

“Let go.” Barbara windmilled her arms, not about to cooperate. “Stop or I’ll throw gas on you.”

Megan glanced at the can of gasoline that had miraculously remained upright in Barbara’s hand. It didn’t have a cap. No wonder she could smell it. She hated the smell of gas almost as much as she hated the smell of smoke.

“Megan has this funny idea that you don’t want to kill her,” Kira said, holding on tight. “Don’t prove her wrong.”

“Not her. You.”

A cry of outrage escaped Megan’s throat. “You are
not
throwing gas on Kira.”

Megan grabbed for the gas can. Barbara evaded her, moving the container quickly in one direction, then another. She never thought she’d see the day she’d find herself wishing an arsonist had thrown more gas on a fire, but honestly, why was there any gas left in that can? There clearly wasn’t much in there—otherwise she’d hear it sloshing—but it wouldn’t take much. Just a few splashes of gasoline would be more than enough to burn someone if they got near a heat source. She didn’t know if Barbara had a lighter, but she didn’t want to take the risk. She had to have started the fire with something.

Why hadn’t they just called the police instead of running after her? They didn’t need to stop Barbara themselves.

“Get away from her, Kira,” Megan pleaded.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her,” Kira said.

Barbara growled. She kicked backward and got Kira in the shin. Kira rammed her foot into the back of Barbara’s Achilles tendon. Megan didn’t want to get anywhere near, but she grabbed for the gas container again. Kira hooked one leg around Barbara’s, trying to trip her.

“Help me get her to the ground,” Kira said, breathing hard.

Barbara jerked the gas can in the direction of Kira’s leg.

Nothing came out.

Barbara banged on the can and tried again to shake it out. It was empty.

Kira’s fancy footwork was not having much effect, but she kept trying. “Don’t scare Megan like that.”

“Fuck you.” Barbara dropped the gas can and pulled something out of her pocket. It looked sort of like a gun. Megan wasn’t sure what it was, but if Barbara was threatening them with it, she’d better try to get it away from her.

Kira recognized it, though. “A soldering torch?” She sounded incredulous. “That’s how you started the fire? What…you couldn’t just use a match?”

“That’s right. Hot enough to melt metal. Now let go of me.” Barbara pointed the torch over her shoulder at Kira’s head.

Kira ducked so she was hidden behind Barbara’s back and marginally out of range. “I’ve got her,” she told Megan. “Go. Call the police.”

“Like that’ll do you any good,” Barbara mocked.

But the good thing was that in pointing her torch, Barbara had abandoned her evasive maneuvers. It was just the opportunity Megan needed. She dove for Barbara’s wrist, skidding on the sandy ground, and tried to uncurl Barbara’s clenched fingers. But brute force had never been her strong suit, and Barbara was impossible to overpower. She just couldn’t do it.

Brute force wasn’t the only way to get her to drop that torch, though. She had a client once whose hand went numb because the nerves were compressed. If she could re-create that… She squeezed the underside of Barbara’s wrist, with no effect.

“My brother told me I’d never be a fireman. He said I’d be too scared to enter a burning building. He thought because he was older, he could boss me. But he couldn’t boss me. No one can boss me.”

Megan moved up Barbara’s arm and grabbed her elbow and dug her fingers into the groove where the ulnar nerve ran close to the surface. Maybe that would weaken her grip.

“Ow,” Barbara complained, no more annoyed than if she’d accidentally hit her elbow getting onto the massage table.

Damn, the nerves weren’t enough. She could really use some martial arts training right about now. “Drop. It.”

“No.” Barbara twisted suddenly, breaking Megan’s hold. Flame shot out.

Megan screamed.

“Get away from her, Megan.” Kira’s voice was tight.

Shit. Was Barbara going to kill her? Was this the memory she was about to carry with her into her next life? All the elements were there: Fire. Smoke. And Kira. She’d tried to avoid all three of those, and failed.

Next time I’ll do better. Next life I’ll figure out a way to not get myself killed.
Megan launched herself at the soldering torch with everything she had.

“Let go!” she screamed, forcing Barbara’s thumb away from the ignition button.

Barbara pivoted, trying to dislodge her attackers. She turned the muzzle of the torch toward Kira’s forearm, which was wrapped around her waist. Megan knocked her off her trajectory. Barbara grazed her own body with the hot tip and screamed.

“Shoot that at me and it’s going to get you too,” Kira warned.

Megan’s heart pounded. There had to be something she could do to stop her. She was not going to let Barbara burn Kira with that horrible thing. She just wasn’t.

Her arms clumsy with fear, she kept fighting for control of the torch with one hand and jabbed the fingers and thumb of her other hand into the front of Barbara’s neck on either side of the throat, high up in the carotid triangle. She might not be strong enough to strangle her, but this way she didn’t have to actually squeeze her throat shut to cut off the flow of oxygen to the brain. All she had to do was find the carotid arteries. Easy. And pray her teachers in massage school were right when they’d warned her to stay away from that part of the neck because it could have dire consequences.

Dire consequences would be great right about now.

Barbara was so busy trying to keep her from grabbing the torch that she didn’t even seem to notice what she was doing with her other hand. Shouldn’t something be happening? It looked so easy in the movies—just press under the jaw and the bad guy instantly blacks out. It had to work. It had to work
now
. How long did it take for lack of oxygen to make someone pass out? Maybe she wasn’t in the right spot. Crap. If Barbara could just stand still… Megan adjusted the angle of her fingers.

At least Barbara wasn’t trying to stop her. Of course, that was going to be a problem if the carotid thing didn’t work and Barbara gained the upper hand. Why wasn’t it working? It shouldn’t take much pressure to occlude a blood vessel. Megan pressed harder, jamming her fingers deep into Barbara’s neck, violating every caution she’d ever been taught.

It worked.

Barbara slumped unconscious, dropping the torch as Kira slammed her to the ground. Megan snatched up the torch. Kira readjusted her hold, and Megan just stood there, watching to see if Barbara would wake up. Now that blood was flowing to Barbara’s brain again, she might regain consciousness, although thanks to Kira’s added momentum when she fell, she’d also hit her head pretty hard.

“I think you can let go now,” Megan said cautiously.

“She could be faking.” Kira disengaged slowly, ready to pounce if Barbara moved. “What did you do to her? Is she really knocked out?” She stood and nudged Barbara’s limp form with her foot. Barbara didn’t react. Her stillness was almost a shock after all that struggle.

Sirens wailed in the distance. “The fire truck’s coming,” Kira said.