CHAPTER 6
I take a lurching step toward the house, my feet slipping on the dew-soaked grass, but Mack’s fist on my arm keeps me in place. “Blade!” I scream into the night. The fire is the only thing that responds, crackling and spitting and screaming.
“Aye, there’s yer boy.”
I strain my eyes, squinting into the haze that gets thicker as it nears the burning building, but Rooster isn’t looking at the house.
I follow his gaze… to the woods. My fists relax; I hadn’t even realized I was clenching them, but my palms ache with crescent wounds from my fingernails.
Blade is marching over the grass toward us, fully dressed in jeans and leather, his shoulders high and tight, his eyes wide. My face is still smarting with heat. I probably have burns there, just from exposure to the flames.
“Wher
