Page 148 of Fire and Bones

My stomach roiled and I tasted bile in my mouth.

Zanetti’s face had become a blurry mask.

I smelled danger, dark and quick as a viper’s tongue.

Get it together, Brennan!

I blinked, struggling to bring the world back into focus.

How had I gotten to the kitchen?

Had I brought my phone?

I dropped my right hand from the fridge door, keeping my arm close to my body in hopes of detecting a hard bulge in one pocket.

Felt nothing.

My thoughts were a swirling vortex circling one question.

Where was my mobile?

Dizzy, I raised my left hand to cover my face as I ran my eyes over the room. Countertops. Stove. Sink. Table.

Zanetti in the doorway.

No phone.

Ivy’s words slammed home from our initial tour of the house.

Think! Where was the damn thing?

Beside the sink. A short six feet away. But how to get to it without setting him off?

Buy time.

I drew a series of deep breaths.

My mind was still spinning, but more slowly now, thanks to the oxygen intake. Images and voices were rearranging and connecting with soft little clicks.

I inhaled again. Moved my hips slightly, seeming only to shift my weight, but inching a few steps to my right.

“You screwed up, Ben.” It was hard to talk, the words seeming to take forever navigating from my mind to my tongue.

“How’s that?”

“Who was she?”

“Who was who?”

“The third fire didn’t burn long enough or hot enough for your plan to work.” My voice felt thick, my words slurry.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jada Thacker said the most recent victim didn’t die in the fire,” I said, carefully forming each word. “No smoke in her lungs or trachea, that sort of thing.”

Some emotion rippled across Zanetti’s face, but he said nothing.

“Thacker said the vic would be easy to ID based on body details. I just phoned to ask what she meant.”