LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      Fire lances out of the building, propelled not by physics but by the deft hand of a monster with a plan. Drake moves, but he’s too late for the swift arc of flame, for the way it reaches out for him, lashing in a broad arc, the heat searing his lungs even from this distance.

      A hand grabs his arm, yanking him back to safety. Right. I have a partner.

      That simple thought spurs Drake into action. He leaps forward, unsheathing the sword from his back and charging towards the burning building. It’s fine to be a little reckless, he tells himself, because there’s someone to watch his back.

      The Inferna has taken up residence in a shitty motel, operating out of Room 183. Grumbling that it should at least have the decency to be in Room 666, Drake draws back and slams his foot into the door, splintering the wood as he dives to the side to make sure he doesn’t get hit by the blast.

      When no blast follows, he blinks for a second. The door is off its hinges; a fierce wind whips sideways, yanking the fire away from him and saving him from the scorching that would have been a bitch to heal. Not only that, but an Inferna’s flames are never just fire. If any one of those had hit him, he’d be feeling a lot more than a horrendous burning sensation, which means the wind is also magical. He turns his head and catches the barest glimpse of a familiar face, tense in concentration.

      “Go!”

      Drake nods. They both know what it’s like, fighting for time when there isn’t any. The first step inside the motel is confusing, heat at his front, cold wind at his back, but then the hot air buffets him and he has a hell of a lot more to worry about.

      Opening his eyes is always harder inside a burning building, and Drake would give almost anything not to know that so well. They water in less than a second, and the sound of the wind behind him is second only to the creaking, breaking beams of the motel itself. “Cheap plywood and plaster,” he calls over his shoulder, throwing an arm over his mouth before he tries to breathe. The heat of the air sears his lungs, no matter how much of it is whipped away from him by the wind. “It’s going up fast, so look hard!”

      “I can’t keep the wind on you and look magically at the same time,” Shane shouts back. “Get out for a second.”

      Drake hesitates and a beam falls. He barely rolls to the side in time, reflexively patting himself down to make sure his heavy denim and flannel haven’t caught fire yet. A spark tries to start in his beard and he swats it out, hardly feeling the prickle of pain.

      “Go! You’re wasting time!”

      Reason tells Drake that he has to leave, has to let Shane do his thing, because he’s the only one who can find the creature fast enough. If they put the fire out, the Inferna will simply disappear, bursting into life at a new location with a new set of lungs to breathe out the flame. Judging by the state of the motel, Drake hazards that they have four, maybe five, minutes until the whole thing comes crumbling down.

      Still, instinct makes him hesitate.

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