Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) (18 page)

“Turn around, Russell,” I murmur
. As he turns
around
I gasp
, seeing at least ten more
bites
covering his back
beneath his wings
. “What happened?” I ask
, adrenaline kicking in so that I’m becoming more alert.

“When
Eion grabbed you
, Reed tossed the detonator to me
,
and then he tried to follow you
. He activated his portal,”
Russell says
, looking down.

Gaz
ing
around frantically, I stagger
toward the bedroom door, searching for where Reed could b
e in the house. I have
n’t heard him. He could need our help on another floor.

“H
e’s not here, Red,” Russell says
, looking guilty.

“Where is he?” I ask
, feeling my world spinning around and leaning at odd angles.

“I switched our portal
s
a couple of days ago.
I wasn’t
just gonna roll over and let Reed
take you
away from me, so I switched his watch with mine when y’all were swimmin’.
When Reed
left the fight on the island
just now
, he went to Brownie’s safe house
with my watch
,” Russell explains
quickly.

“Oh my God, Russell! He’
s going to kill you!” I breathe
, staggering to a chair by th
e fireplace. Grasping the back o
f it, I try
to stay on my feet.
“What happened next?” I ask
, not wanting to think about what Reed will do to Russell when he finds us.

“Well, I couldn’t leave to hel
p you
because I had the detonator. I got jumped by a couple of stinky devils wh
o thought I tasted like ‘Heaven
,
’” he explains
, his voice sounding
strained and raspy as he swipes
his hand through his hair.
“
Zee got to me, knockin’ the bastards off of me. He took the detonator and told me to go, so I went. He planned to blow the island and leap into his portal.
That one hitched a ride when I was leavin’
,
” Russell groans
, gesturing to Keefe’s body
. “What is that smell?”
he demands
, doubli
ng over like his stomach aches.

“That’s Eion…and probably Keefe…
their
blood,” I answer, panting. “It smells…
”

“Delicious,” Russell finishes
for me.

“We gotta go, Russell, befo
re we try to eat them,” I gasp
, feeling
a bead of
sweat drip down the side of my face. “We need to find clean blood
…animal blood to curb the blood
lust.”

“
I remember…I just d
idn’t know…this is…” he strains
to stand.

“Agony,” I finish
for him, gritting
my teeth and pushing myself away from
the chair.

“Ye
ah,” he agrees
, “I think I’m star
tin’ to trip, Red,” Russell says
, swatting at something he’s seeing in the empty air. “Or is this place crawlin’ with mosquitoes
the size of Krispy K
remes
?” Russell asks
, ducking his head.

“No, you’re hallucinating,” I reply
, feeling choked up because I can hardly move. “You have so many bites, Russell.”

Terror
creep
s
up my spine, knowing that I’m going to have to try to help Russell before he completely freaks out. Once he loses all sense of reality, I’ll probably look like the enemy to him. He could kill me without even knowing it
’s me
…and I could kill him.

Trying to think, I say
, “Russell, take off all of your weapons and throw them away.”

“Why?” Russell says
, not doing what I told him.

“Because, we’
re going to be each other’s worst nightmares soon and I don’t want to get my head hacked off
by your broad sword,” I retort
.

“Oh…good point,” he replies
, taking off all his weapons and tos
sing them near the window. I do
the same, tossing mine in
to
the fireplace.

“Okay, now…we have to leave. We have to get as far away from the blood of
the Gancanagh as we can,” I say, while my mouth begins
to water.

“It’s sno
win’ outside, Red,” Russell says
, gazing out the window
at the snowy night sky
.

“Maybe Reed has clothes,”
I say
, lifti
ng my hand listlessly toward an elegant wardrobe
. The room is beautiful, with stucco, arabesque mo
lding and baroque architecture.
It is the most elegant room I’ve ever bee
n in.

“It won
’t matter, Red,” Russell replies
, staggering toward me instead.
“There’s no way I’m gettin
’ my wings to retract. I can’t even put a coat on.” Graspin
g me by my upper arm, he steers
me
t
owards the bedroom door. “Do you
know where we are?”

“Torun, Poland,” I reply
.

“No kiddin’?” Russell asks
, a small smile forming in the corners of his mouth.

“No, why?” I counter
,
leaning against him.

“’Cuz
I’ve been here before…’bout six hundred
years ago, more or less—
I was the daughter of o
ne of the town’s
merchants.”

E
ntering the hall, Russell sways
on his feet, c
rashing into the wall. I grab
onto the banister looking over the landing and seeing that we’re three stories up in an elegant town house. The spiraling staircase is ornate, with oak spindles in the form of angels, running the breath of the staircase.

Placing his h
ands on the wall, Russell leaves
huge,
bloody handprints o
n it as he gains
his balance.
“Sorry, Red.” Russell groans
.

“S’kay,” I slur
, feeling him take my arm again and lead me to the stairs.

“I’m startin’ to suspect that nothin’s a coinciden
ce, Red,” Russell says
, sitting down on the top step and pulling
me down next to him. He scoots
down a s
tep,
the way a toddler would to descend the stairs, pulling me along with him. “Are them angels on th
e railin’ cryin’, Red?” he asks
, shying away a little from the balustrades.

I scrutinize the
carved
banister as it shivers and melts
.
“No,” I ans
wer
.
“Do you see any tiny, evil-looking sprites c
hewing on bat wings?” I mutter
, sliding my butt down to the next stair.

“Naw,” he answer
s
, looking around in shock
.

“No? No sharp-teeth little creatures
dressed sorta like Santa’s elves
?” I ask
again warily, as a
ferocious
sprite eye
s
me from his position
flying
above my head.

“Naw,” Russell shakes his head
.
“How p
repared would y
ou
say Reed is?” Russell asks
, pulling me faster down the steps.

“Uh…
Reed
? He
makes the boy scou
ts look like loafers,” I reply
, bumping down the stairs.

“And
he’s
sup
er paranoid where you’
r
e
concerned,
” Russell adds
.

“Protective,” I agree
.

Russell drags me faster
down the remaining stairs
. At the bottom,
Russell
ge
t
s to his feet. I try
t
o stand, but I ca
n’t
. T
oppling over on the ground
,
I lie
there looking up at him.

“Which way would y
ou
say it i
s to the kitchen?” Russell asks grimly.

When I shrug, Russell grasps my hand and drags
me across the floor. Pulling me from room
to room, he finally locates what he’s looking for—the kitchen. He drops my arm and it fa
ll
s
across my chest. St
aggering forward, Russell opens
the refrigerator.

He laughs
be
fore he shouts
, “RUDE CAR, RED!
” Holding up a
large, glass jar, it looks like blood that has sepa
rated. Shaking it, Russell mixes
it together in the jar, making it look
more like blood.
Peer
ing back in
to the refrigerator, he
frown
s. “Damn!” he says
.

“What?” I ask
, pulling
myself to a sitting position against
the wall.

“This
is it,” he says
. It’s about a quart of blood…enough for
one of us. “Here,” Russell says
,
extending the jar in his hand as he walks
toward me.

“No,” I croak
, putting up my hand so he won’t come near me.
“Don’t let me smell it. I might—I might
try to fight you for it.” I
cover my nose and mouth
with my hand
.

“
We could share
it—
” Russell says
,
and I shake
my head.

“It’s not enough for
both of us. Y
ou should drink it—” I begi
n.

“Naw,” Russell says
, a fierce scowl tr
ansforming his face. “It’s you
rs!
”

“
Think about it
,
Russell,” I say
, feeling
really
ill. “You’re stronger…if I drink
it and you keep hallucinating
, you’
ll probably end up killing me
,
even if I manage
to bring back blood for you. You just
said you’ve been here before—
”

“THAT WAS SIX HUNDRED
YEARS AGO!
THE PLACE HAS PR
OBABLY CHANGED!” Russell shouts
at me.

“Russell, I’m so weak that I can’t even stand up.
I think Eion might’ve drained
half my blood supply. That blood is
yours
because
you can go out and get more and
…I’ll wait here for you,” I say listlessly
, feeling like I’m going to burst into tears at any second.

“NO!” Russell shouts
stubbornly.

“YES!” I snap
back. “
And tie me up, so I don’t stagger
away or try to hurt myself…or you.
Use your belt—
tie me to a chair—
one of those kitchen chairs will be okay.”

“Naw! I’ll take you
with me,” he counters
with pain in his eyes
.

“Yeah, it won’t look weird that you’re carrying an angel through town looking for blood. What if
a Fallen spots us?” I ask
.
Russell groans
in indecision, so I press
my advantage. “Hurry, Russell. I’m not getting any better while you’re sitting around on your ASS!”

“ASS KICKER!” Russell spits
out b
etween his teeth. “You’
r
e
the most difficult—irritatin’—
s
tubborn—it’s always got
ta be you
r way!” he says
,
before
twisting the lid off the jar and putting it to his lips, downing half the blood
in a few gulps
. My mouth waters
along with my eyes watching him. Digging m
y nails into my palms, I glance away so I wo
n’t get up and try to take it from him.