He arched a brow slowly. "You're going to call the police and tell them that we were both in Andy's room?"
She blushed to the roots of her silver-white hair, then lowered her head. She met his eyes.
"You're going to go home, and back to bed," he told her. "And that's it, back home, and back to bed."
Her eyes were locked with his. "Back home, and back to bed. Of course."
"And you're going to drive carefully."
"I'm going to drive carefully."
She stared at him a moment longer, then became determined. In no-nonsense fashion, she walked toward the parking lot with long strides.
At twelve-ten, the fire broke out.
Finn was on the acoustic guitar, Megan was singing.
The electric connector on the stage suddenly exploded, the noise as deafening as thunder, sparks flying to the ceiling and in every conceivable direction.
Screams rose in an instantly cacophony.
The electricity went as terrified workers and clientele alike dashed, pushed, prodded, and ran through the darkness.
Finn dropped his guitar.
"Megan!"
There was no answer.
Chapter 20
"Finn!"
Despite the bursts of sparks and the small fires instantly breaking out across the room, the darkness seemed overwhelming.
Then, as flames began to lap around in the velvet ebony of the room, the sprinkler system came on, creating more havoc.
People were being trampled.
Someone was yelling for calm; some people were shouting that others were being hurt. The words did nothing to stop the stampede.
Megan found herself being pushed and shoved, caught up in the crowd. She was shouting herself, but no avail. Panic was ensuing.
"Stop!" she insisted, feeling elbows gouge into her.
There was no help but to continue to be propelled forward.
She thought she heard Finn shout her name; she tried to reply, but there was so much noise, he couldn't possibly hear her trying to shout in return. Obviously, some of these people knew where the exits were, and she was being jostled along in that direction.
A surge of flame suddenly shot up from the area of the stage. Her heart seemed to catch in her throat for a moment, but she knew that Finn couldn't still be there. He, too, was somewhere in the crowd, being forced toward an exit. The emergency signs to guide them out should have been more prominent, but by now, smoke was filling the space, obscuring even the glow of the signs.
Megan decided just to allow herself to go with the flow.
But then her foot fell upon something that was obviously a human limb. She yelled out in fury and gave a fierce shove back to the person trying to force her forward and bent down, groping blindly to help the fallen person up. She felt coarse wool, limbs, and then a hand. Fingers curled into hers and she strained to pull upward. The person came.
But then, the grip on her hand became a vise. And a whisper sounded against her ear. "Stay with me!"
Firmly guided, she made her way through the throng. By then, she was coughing and choking; her eyes stung terribly.
They burst out a door, smoke billowing out along with them. Frantic yells continued to sound; even outside, milling people were bumping into one another, every one trying to get farther and farther away.
Shouts sounded from everywhere.
"It's going to explode! The whole place is going to explode."
"Get away, get away, get far away!"
"Someone planted a bomb."
"It's just an electrical fire!"
"There's no bomb!"
"Calm down!"
Sirens blared through the night; the fire department was on the way.
Megan was still jostled forward, and still blinded, for the darkness, combined with the smoke, and the fog that curled low over the ground combined to create a thick pea soup of the night.
She felt her hair pulled, her elbow jostled.
And then…
Along with all the other sounds, a whisper.
"Run, Megan, run."
Then laughter. A soft, eerie laughter, right at her ear.
The person in the cloak and cowl still had her hand. In a death grip.
"We've got to get farther. We've got to get away."
"No, I have to find Finn!"
"Finn's all right. We've got to move out!"
"Who the hell are you?"
She tried to jerk away. The grip was relentless. She couldn't see the person's face. The voice was deep and raspy.
"It's all right, Megan, it's me. It's Mike. Please, let's just get far enough away in case there is an explosion.
Finn will get out, he'll know you're out."
"No!" she said insistently. "Finn will be looking for me; he could run back in!"
Apparently, Mike didn't hear her. Someone pushed her from behind, forcing her forward. Mike took advantage, jerking her hand hard, running.
Propelled and dragged with equal force, Megan found herself tripping across the parking lot. They were heading past the cars, she saw.
And toward the woods.
Megan had gotten off the stage; Finn made certain of that. Despite the sparks flying and the flames leaping up around the area, he crawled on his hands and knees over the entire area of the stage, praying only that he wasn't electrocuted in the process. People were running into the dais there, falling, crying out.
He could hear a voice, begging for calm. It sounded like Adam Spade. It wouldn't be Tartan, Finn thought bitterly. Tartan would have been the first person out of the building.
Someone fell hard against the stage. Finn found an elbow and lifted whoever to their feet. He was rewarded with a dazed, "Thanks!"
"Get out, buddy, get out!" Someone told him.
Another small explosion rocked the stage. Finn rolled backward to avoid the flames. Landing hard on the dance floor by the stage, he ducked beneath it quickly to keep from being trampled. Despite the tangle of legs rushing past, he managed to roll out and get to his feet.
The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils. The smell of it definitely indicated an electrical fire, but he knew that his sound system had been in excellent shape. So…
"Move, move, move! The fires are growing!"
They were, which seemed impossible, since the sprinklers were now dousing the entire place. Caught up in the exodus, Finn became determined to move with the crowd, shouting Megan's name all the while.
Feeling the temptation to give way to panic, he gritted his teeth, telling himself that Megan was capable and smart; she had been caught up in the flow of the crowd, just as he was himself. When he found an exit, he would find Megan.
Still, fear set in. All this hokum about dreams and demons. And the greatest danger they were coming to face was a fire. Avery real danger. Not something out of the mist, or the imagination.
A fire that had started on the stage.
A fire set on purpose?
He thought back to the afternoon and remembered what Lucian had said—that they wouldn't be playing tomorrow night. They were scheduled to play, but they wouldn't be playing, because midnight was the hour.
The hour when a demon could best return to earth.
"Megan!" His voice roared over the spray of the sprinklers, the screaming, the thumping, the crashing of objects around him.
A few minutes later, he burst outside.
Into something worse than darkness.
A true shadow realm, for smoke had combined with the ceaseless fog that seemed to haunt the place, and all that was visible was a field of shadows.
"Megan!"
He called her name.
"Finn!"
Faint… the answer so faint, and yet, he was so certain he heard her. From where? From the direction of…
He whirled around.
"Finn!"
He thought he heard her again. Real? Imagined? He didn't now.
He had no choice. He ran in the direction of the woods.
"Mike! Stop, I mean it!" Megan said determinedly. She jerked hard on his hand, forcing him to come to a stop.
"Megan, we have to have distance!" he insisted, jerking her hand again.
"We've got distance. We're nearly in the trees."
"I am not going to let you kill yourself!"
He started to move again, jerking her along. But suddenly, in the midst of the fog, he came across a barrier and crashed into it so hard that he drew Megan along with him.
It was another man in a brown cape, the hood so far over his face she couldn't begin to see it.
"Let her go," he said firmly.
"I'm trying to get her out of here, you idiot!" Mike claimed.
"Are you?"
He reached for both their wrists, jerking. Megan was instantly freed from Mike's hand.
"Thanks. If you'll excuse me, I'm going back," she said flatly.
"No, Megan," the man said. "You're coming with me."
He had lifted his head somewhat.
Ice filled her heart. She had seen him before. He was the man Finn had said was following him. Who had stood outside the coffeehouse, watching them. His hair was a dark sable color; he wore it on the long side, like Finn. He was muscularly built, but his eyes were his strangest feature. They were a strange green, almost yellow.
It was the color of his eyes that unnerved her most.
"No, I'm going back," she said, and turned.
His hand fell on her shoulder, and he spun her around.
"You're coming with me."
"The hell I am!" Great. She kept pepper spray in her purse, but, of course, her purse was back at the hotel—burning up somewhere, probably.
And she wasn't a weakling.
But neither could she hope to win against this fellow's apparent force.
"Leave her alone!" Mike shouted.
"You don't know me, but I'm a friend," the man said.
"A friend, right!" Mike protested.
"Get out of the way."
"You're not taking her anywhere!"
The man pushed by Mike effortlessly. He made a move to come at the man, assault him. The man let out a sound that was chilling… a warning, but not a warning, a snarl that seemed to fill the night. She was dragged along as he walked through the fog, not blinded at all.
