Chapter One
The woman’s shriek reached Luke’s ears even above the roar of flames. The walls rippled with fire and the air was so clogged with black smoke he could barely see his hand in front of his face.
But I’ve gotta find her.
He moved swiftly but gingerly through the burning house, carefully placing his heavy boots where the beams most likely ran beneath the floor. He couldn’t afford to step through the wooden planks and breach a horizontal channel of fire between the ceiling of the lower story and the floor of the upper.
All his training flooded into his mind. But a sixth sense took over, and that’s exactly what he’d been counting on. The instinct to find his victim.
He moved down the hall as fast as he could, away from the scorching heat. The staircase was on fire. Why did they always catch before the victims could get out?
Dragging in a deep breath, he threw out his senses and continued on. His oxygen mask fed him precious air—air the inhabitants of this house didn’t have.
He could almost hear his chief’s voice echoing within the safe walls of his mind. Move your ass, Lieutenant.
Luke reached a closed door. What’s behind door number one? He put out his bare hand—he never wore gloves—and touched the wooden slab. Warm but not searing.
The scream sounded again from his right and he abandoned the door, practically running through the upstairs, following that voice.
“Where are you, darlin’?” He spoke into his mask.
“Who you callin’ darlin’, Lucifer? Find the woman and get out!” His chief’s voice filled the communication device in his ear.
A grin stretching his face, he plowed on, feeling walls, doors. The house seemed to hum like a giant teapot simmering on a stove. If they were lucky, they had three minutes. Four tops.
“Fuck, where are you?” He turned toward another room, pressed a palm to the door and pushed it open, bracing himself for the worst.
A woman flew at him, arms and legs flailing before his vision, blonde hair and tear-streaked face red from the heat and crying.
“My little girl! She’s in there! Hurry!” She pointed to a closed door.
Luke’s blood ran cold but he quickly checked his reaction. In Firehouse 5, he was known for his ability to remain stoic and to get the job done. But he didn’t like the idea of another door with a child trapped behind it. Where did it lead?
Mentally, he laid out the house. Simple two-story Victorian structure. One staircase? He fucking hoped so. Sometimes back staircases leading between a maid’s room and the kitchen existed in these older homes. If that kid was trapped in that room with its own staircase and the kitchen below was on fire…
He wrapped his fingers around the frantic woman’s upper arms and dipped his head close to hers so she could understand him through his mask when he gave his order. “Get down. Get low. Don’t follow me. Stay right here, and I’ll come back for you.”
Her mouth was opened in a silent scream, her face a mask. With a shock, he recognized those dainty features and her full-lipped, wide mouth.
No, it’s not Josie. Get your ass in there and save that kid!
The woman was in shock. He saw it in the stunned way she stood, shoulders stiff and face blank. Terror did that to people. Dammit, if he couldn’t get her to follow his commands, he’d end up treating her for smoke inhalation as well as shock.
Into his hear, his chief’s voice boomed. “You okay, Lucifer? Haul ass. We’re holding off the flames as best we can, but the whole structure is leaning.”
“Yeah, I feel it. I’ve got the woman but there’s a kid too.” With that, he shoved the woman down with a hand on her spine. Her knees struck the floor and she remained in this position, as still as if he’d knocked her unconscious.
Twisting toward the door, he assessed it in a blink. Not scorching, but hot. Fuck, and locked too. Chances were smoke had breached that space and the child was dying…
“Not
The woman’s shriek reached Luke’s ears even above the roar of flames. The walls rippled with fire and the air was so clogged with black smoke he could barely see his hand in front of his face.
But I’ve gotta find her.
He moved swiftly but gingerly through the burning house, carefully placing his heavy boots where the beams most likely ran beneath the floor. He couldn’t afford to step through the wooden planks and breach a horizontal channel of fire between the ceiling of the lower story and the floor of the upper.
All his training flooded into his mind. But a sixth sense took over, and that’s exactly what he’d been counting on. The instinct to find his victim.
He moved down the hall as fast as he could, away from the scorching heat. The staircase was on fire. Why did they always catch before the victims could get out?
Dragging in a deep breath, he threw out his senses and continued on. His oxygen mask fed him precious air—air the inhabitants of this house didn’t have.
He could almost hear his chief’s voice echoing within the safe walls of his mind. Move your ass, Lieutenant.
Luke reached a closed door. What’s behind door number one? He put out his bare hand—he never wore gloves—and touched the wooden slab. Warm but not searing.
The scream sounded again from his right and he abandoned the door, practically running through the upstairs, following that voice.
“Where are you, darlin’?” He spoke into his mask.
“Who you callin’ darlin’, Lucifer? Find the woman and get out!” His chief’s voice filled the communication device in his ear.
A grin stretching his face, he plowed on, feeling walls, doors. The house seemed to hum like a giant teapot simmering on a stove. If they were lucky, they had three minutes. Four tops.
“Fuck, where are you?” He turned toward another room, pressed a palm to the door and pushed it open, bracing himself for the worst.
A woman flew at him, arms and legs flailing before his vision, blonde hair and tear-streaked face red from the heat and crying.
“My little girl! She’s in there! Hurry!” She pointed to a closed door.
Luke’s blood ran cold but he quickly checked his reaction. In Firehouse 5, he was known for his ability to remain stoic and to get the job done. But he didn’t like the idea of another door with a child trapped behind it. Where did it lead?
Mentally, he laid out the house. Simple two-story Victorian structure. One staircase? He fucking hoped so. Sometimes back staircases leading between a maid’s room and the kitchen existed in these older homes. If that kid was trapped in that room with its own staircase and the kitchen below was on fire…
He wrapped his fingers around the frantic woman’s upper arms and dipped his head close to hers so she could understand him through his mask when he gave his order. “Get down. Get low. Don’t follow me. Stay right here, and I’ll come back for you.”
Her mouth was opened in a silent scream, her face a mask. With a shock, he recognized those dainty features and her full-lipped, wide mouth.
No, it’s not Josie. Get your ass in there and save that kid!
The woman was in shock. He saw it in the stunned way she stood, shoulders stiff and face blank. Terror did that to people. Dammit, if he couldn’t get her to follow his commands, he’d end up treating her for smoke inhalation as well as shock.
Into his hear, his chief’s voice boomed. “You okay, Lucifer? Haul ass. We’re holding off the flames as best we can, but the whole structure is leaning.”
“Yeah, I feel it. I’ve got the woman but there’s a kid too.” With that, he shoved the woman down with a hand on her spine. Her knees struck the floor and she remained in this position, as still as if he’d knocked her unconscious.
Twisting toward the door, he assessed it in a blink. Not scorching, but hot. Fuck, and locked too. Chances were smoke had breached that space and the child was dying…
“Not
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