Warring of Fire (Dragon Born, #3) Page 4

  But I turned my thoughts to clouds. Rain. My awareness sank as moisture filled the air.

  "Sprinkles," Dirk said.

  "We need more," Sven said.

  I was doing it. I continued to will the moisture to gather. The air turned to water far above and opened. Though my mind was elsewhere, I could hear rain beating against the ground.

  "You're doing it," Sven said, far away. "Now we need wind. Thunder." There wasn't much accent in his voice.

  We needed violence.

  Gritting my teeth, I struck with lightning. Blasted wind with my thoughts. The heat filled me again, urging me to use vicious power. Wind blasted, far away and in my ears. Dirk shouted something but maintained his grip on my hand. Angry rivers of magic flowed. Metal creaked.

  I opened my eyes.

  The power lines swayed in the wind that blasted tree branches to the side. Curtains of rain fell and lightning flashed. The three of us stood in the middle of the most intense storm to hit Olivia in my life. Power lines whipped. Dirk released my hand and backed away into the tree line, leaving the open field to its doom. I went with him and grabbed Sven's arm.

  But he jerked away, grasping his forearm in pain. A sizzling sound followed before the rain beat it out.

  I had burned him.

  The thought was enough to take me out of the storm. The wind died, and the rain reduced to a moderate level.

  "Keep focusing!" Sven shouted at me, grasping his arm. "We have one chance!"

  Dirk took my hand again. The heat sputtered within at the horror of what I'd done, but with another breath in, I gathered it and focused my fear into the storm. My heart raced. Dirk's pulse matched mine. The wind picked up as if fleeing. Rain bashed the landscape. Puddles formed in the open field and water flowed into the gorge. The wind parted around us as if we had a protective bubble. The power lines creaked and groaned as the wind intensified until at last sparks exploded from the top of the nearest one. With a roar, it fell to the side, crying out with a mournful groan as it crashed into the tall grass, whipping wires like angry tentacles.

  "Whoa!" Dirk shouted when the sound died.

  Shock ruled. I took a breath as the freak storm died. The rain cut to a sprinkle, and the heat vanished as Sven continued to rub his arm.

  "The office," he said. "If we go in through the back, we won't have to go near the kitchen. This is our only chance! Father will set up the generator."

  "I burned you," I said.

  "Accidents happen," Sven said, taking my hand without fear. "It's barely worse than a sunburn. You have a lot of magic you don't know how to control yet. Come on. All of us. Dirk, get ready to steal the hard drive."

  He spoke with an accent now. The thought of going into his own house worried him more than a storm that had knocked down a heavy-duty power line.

  Using my vision, I checked out the Water Company as we ran back around it. The lights were off, leaving the parking lot gray but I could see that the emergency exit lights were lit. They had a generator and had gone to minimal power.

  But the Manager's House was dark.

  We reached the front parking lot, creeping through it and around a few parked cars. The workers inside waved flashlights in the lobby—apparently the emergency lighting was just to get the workers in and out—but nobody came out to stop us. I couldn't believe I'd done this. But I knew without Dirk's help, it would have taken much longer or never happened at all. It was as if we were meant to be a team.

  We reached the house. I heard nothing inside, but the wealthy cars still choked the driveway, leaving almost no room. The Slayers still met. No voices came out from behind the house, but as we circled around to the back, I heard the front door open. The Slayers were checking out the parking lot and the Company.

  "I see nothing," the lone female Slayer shouted.

  A man yelled something from inside. They were on alert. A storm that came and went like that would grab anyone's attention. She went back inside and closed the door. We'd have to use extreme caution.

  "The back door might not even work," Sven said. "I might need to go cause a distraction. Father won't expect me to work with the dragons. I'll tell them a story." He gulped. "Do you have any pointers?"

  "Include why your sister is missing," I said. "Tell them the two of you got captured when you chased after a man you thought was a dragon." Sven didn't have the lying ability I did. But he could act. He had that on his side. "You escaped and the dragons have her captured at the high school. They want to fight at the football field before the sun rises and while no one's there to see."

  Sven nodded. "And they let me get away so I could summon the Slayers."

  "Yes," I said, leaning forward and giving him a gentle kiss. "That's what happened. And you don't know why the storm came and went like that."

  Sven opened the back door while Dirk and I ducked behind the back deck. But someone met him there. The Slayers had stationed themselves at all the exits and entrances as if they'd rehearsed what to do in an attack.

  "It's you," a rough man said. "Your father is furious."

  "He won't be at me when he hears what happened," Sven said. "Sofia and I went after what we thought was a dragon shifter. We followed him to the high school." Sven stepped inside. "We have to meet in the kitchen. The dragons want to fight at the high school. They said if you don't meet them there, they'll tear this town apart. I think the freak storm was a warning. And they captured Sofia."

  "Sven!" Mr. Olsen shouted. "Where have you been?"

  "Doing my job!"

  "You let your idiot sister try to do a man's work."

  "We have to meet," Sven said, accented.

  "Then we all will. In the kitchen. Now. Everyone."

  His father didn't ask about Sofia. That made heat fill me all over again, but at least I only had Dirk with me now. I couldn't hurt him.

  "Now what?" Dirk whispered once they shut the back door.

  "Upstairs. I'll lead the way."

  Without this new vision, I would have gone no further, but upon straightening up and looking through the back door, I saw that the red glows that marked living bodies had vanished from the main living room to retreat into the kitchen. A flashlight beam illuminated the crack under the kitchen door for a second. The Slayers had determined that they needed to close themselves in.

  It was our chance. I waved Dirk to the back door and found it locked. Breaking the lock was easy, but it made a loud snap as it did. I tensed, waiting for the kitchen door to burst open, but loud, excited speech from there had masked the sound. The Slayers were working themselves up into a fury. I couldn't make out what anyone was saying. Some of them has lapsed into Swedish.

  "Are you sure about this?" Dirk asked.

  Everything but the kitchen was dark. With the power cut, no alarms would go off. I stepped over the threshold and once Dirk was inside, I closed the door behind me.

  No one emerged from the kitchen, but Mr. Olsen called order. "My son states that the dragons are at the high school, waiting to fight us," he said. "I believe they have caused this storm."

  Silence fell. I froze, listening. Dirk bumped into me. He still wasn't graceful.

  "No dragons capable of controlling weather have existed for a thousand years," another Slayer said.

  "One may," Mr. Olsen said in a very suspicious and ominous tone. "It's very possible. There is no other explanation for that freak storm."

  "They might be coming," said another Slayer.

  "It's possible," Mr. Olsen said.

  "What about Sofia?" Sven asked. "We have to rescue her!"

  "Perhaps," Mr. Olsen said. "If we have time, then we will."

  "You're talking about her like she's an afterthought," Sven said. "She's your daughter."

  The fire inside turned to a raging inferno. The more I hung around here the more I hated Mr. Olsen. What was his problem? But before I could unleash anything—I still wasn't sure what my fire magic could do—I hurried up the stairs to the second level.

&nbs
p; And the security pad was off, with no blinking red.

  "Is that it?" Dirk asked.

  "Yes." I walked up and turned the knob. Nothing killed me. Then I took a breath and turned it so hard that the lock once again snapped. Worry swept over me. Sven could get in trouble for this. We had to get him out before his father discovered that someone had broken in while he was meeting with everyone else.

  The office was lavish, with dark wood walls. It was also full of file cabinets. Swords hung on the walls, crisscrossed, while twin suits of armor stood on either side of Mr. Olsen's polished, dark oak desk. A leather chair faced a custom laptop with golden swords engraved on the lid.

  "That must be it," Dirk said. "I'll grab that and we go."

  "It might not be all." My heart raced as I looked around the office, opening file cabinets. The laptop would have password protection. We needed paper files if we couldn't crack it. Mr. Olsen might have written the password down somewhere. As I circled around the office, finding business documents and shoving them under my shirt, red Gems on the swords' handles glowed with my presence. If a Slayer walked in here, the two of us would die. As I yanked everything I could from the cabinets, Dirk opened the desk drawers and grabbed things. We were leaving Mr. Olsen's mystery office looted.

  "We've got to go," Dirk said. "I hear people moving around."

  So did I. Feet shuffled downstairs as Slayers ran around, probably at Mr. Olsen's command. Terror leapt through my chest and into my throat and I froze, listening, but no one came up the stairs. Mr. Olsen didn't want his people away from their guard posts for long. He was on high alert and hadn't risked holding the meeting for more than a few minutes.

  And then, at last, one set of footfalls came up the stairs.

  "It's me," Sven said from the other side of the office door. "Get out. We need to go."

  I hadn't realized Dirk had closed it, so I opened it to find Sven there, still in the dark. He eyed the control panel on the wall in a silent warning that Mr. Olsen was sending people to set up the generator. He didn't realize he was already too late.

  But that meant he didn't suspect his son was helping us.

  Dirk and I burst out of the office just as a low hum started from outside. Mr. Olsen yelled at someone to grab him fuel. His voice roared from the side of the house, from the direction of the garage.

  "Can we go through the back?" I asked.

  "There's two Slayers guarding that door. My room," Sven ordered. "I have them thinking they need to go to the high school or Sofia will die. Father's not too concerned about her, so they'll take time to uncover the lie."

  We followed him through the dark to his room, which he found by feeling along the walls. The guest room door was closed and newly installed. I knew my stuff was still in there. An urge swept over me to grab it, but I followed Sven into his room instead. He had a simple space with only a bed and a cabinet. The walls were bare. His father didn't want him to enjoy any form of entertainment until he proved himself.

  But he had a window that looked out on the backyard. From here I could see the targets where he and Sofia practiced and the tents with the sword dummies. Dirk's jaw dropped when his gaze landed on that.

  "We have to jump," Sven hissed as the shouts continued from the garage. "Father will reset the security for his office. He will check it as soon as the lights come back on."

  "Great plan," Dirk said as Sven slid open the window. He held the laptop under one arm.

  But someone already thundered up the steps.

  And right then, Sven's alarm clock chirped and floodlights filled the backyard, making me squint.

  The Slayers had restored power.

  And Mr. Olsen was seconds from finding his ransacked office.

  Chapter Five

  Sven finished opening the window with a squeal.

  Mr. Olsen reached the top of the steps and marched away from us, towards the wing that held the office.

  He opened the door.

  Sven waved me through the window. Dizziness overtook me as the ground spread out. In seconds, a dozen experienced Slayers would get alerted to our presence. We'd have to fight.

  Mr. Olsen bolted down the stairs and shouted a command in Swedish. I didn't know what it meant, but Sven's eyes widened. That told me it wasn't good.

  "We have to get on the roof," Sven said. "They're surrounding the house."

  "What do we climb?" Dirk asked.

  Holding the papers under my tank top, I poked my head out the window. The Manager's House had vines upon vines, fed by the free Water Company juice. I hoped my strength gave me the ability to get up there.

  The back door burst open. I looked down, but the back deck had an overhang that prevented anyone there from seeing us.

  "Now," Sven hissed.

  I'd spent years climbing olive trees. This was harder. I grasped the vines, which burned as they slid into my palms, but my flesh sizzled and shifted, pulling itself together. Sven caught the papers sliding out of my tank top. He climbed out after me, grasping the vines as I trembled, pulling myself up the side of the house. My new strength helped—without it I would have fallen—and Sven's years of training kicked in. "Go," he hissed. "Dirk. If you stay, you die."

  I glanced down. Sven hung on below me and three Slayers in full armor burst into the backyard, crossbows pointing at the fence. If they turned, they might spot us. The floodlights didn't shine on the house but they glowed enough to blow our cover.

  Arms trembling, I took a breath and grasped the edge of the roof. The metal of the gutter dug into my fingers, drawing blood, but I bit in my cry of pain and hoisted myself up. I splayed my fingers on the rough shingles as I landed on the slanted roof with nothing but stars overhead. Sven hoisted the folders of papers and the laptop he must have taken from Dirk onto the roof. All slid towards the edge, but I caught them before they did. And then I extended my free hand to Sven to pull him up. He grimaced as his chest plate brushed against the gutter, making a squeal.

  "Do you see anything?"

  "Fan out!"

  "There's nothing out here!"

  Slayers shouted to each other, tense as piano strings. Their noise level was the reason they hadn't discovered us. Mr. Olsen shouted something from inside. More shouts followed from the front of the house. They had the place surrounded.

  Sven landed beside me. Dirk grunted as he struggled up the vines, but his hand appeared over the gutter and grasped. Sven and I both helped him over as he kicked vines off his legs. One tried to pull him back down, but I grabbed it and pulled it apart.

  "How did I do that?" Dirk asked. "I could never do anything in Gym."

  "You're strong," I whispered. "Stay down."

  The roof was huge since the Manager's House was almost a mansion. It sloped upward and had a large, flat area on top with a pair of thick chimneys. Someone could almost host a baseball game up here. That was another reason they hadn't seen us yet.

  "We can wait for the Slayers to calm down before we escape," Sven said. He trembled, slipping his free hand into mine as we lie low. Then he lowered his voice. "Father will know I'm helping dragons."

  My heart fell, and I knew what it meant.

  Sven was disowned. A traitor. He would die if Mr. Olsen found him again. And I knew Mr. Olsen would do the deed.

  "Um, guys?" Dirk asked, lying against the slant of the roof. If we got up to climb, they might see us.

  "Quiet," Sven said as the shouts continued below. "They might not know we're up there. They'll think we ran off with the files." He held the laptop and papers to his chest. "I dropped none into the backyard and we left none in my room."

  "But—"

  "Shh," Sven said.

  "There's no one out here!" the female Slayer shouted from the front yard.

  The back door slammed again.

  And then Dirk delivered the worst possible news.

  "I had to leave Sven's window open."

  A hand of panic squeezed my guts, and I sat up. So did Sven. He stuffed a bunch of
papers into his chest plate as he did, cramming them in so tight they wouldn't fall out easily.

  "We have to close it. Or they'll know," I said.

  "We can't reach it from here," Sven said.

  I thought. Controlling weather would draw attention to Sven's window faster. Dirk could only amplify my powers. I could heal. That wouldn't help us in this situation. Unless we could fly—

  Dirk and I could fly.

  But that meant shifting on top of a Slayer house. And I had never attempted flying before. Walking hadn't gone well for me or Dirk at first. And to top it off, Sven would have to hop on my back. His life depended on me.

  And I feared what I'd do when I got spotted.

  "So now what?" Dirk asked.

  I gave him a look and frowned. His face fell.

  "Oh."

  "Don't change forms unless you have to," Sven said. "They'll see it. They'll hear what's happening. And the Water Company employees will see. That'll only bring more trouble." He stuffed the laptop into his chest plate and shifted, barely able to breathe. "Shifting means fighting."

  It was my fear. I had almost killed Sofia. Infernal rage would take over and I'd try to kill these Slayers.

  "Window open!" a man shouted from inside.

  I swore. "I might have to," I said.

  But Sven ignored me and slid back down the slant to the edge of the roof. "I'm up here," he yelled at the Slayer below. "I'm staking out the roof. It's clear."

  It was fast thinking. Perhaps Sven was better at this lying thing than I gave him credit for. But then the Slayer below yelled something that chilled me to the bone.

  "What are you doing up there? You're exposed!"