Page 10 of A Merciless Bargain
Dane watched my hands a moment and when I remained silent, he spoke. “Continue.”
With a nod, I steeled myself for the retelling. “I heard… something. To be honest, I’m not sure what I heard. It wasn’t anything that, in retrospect, was obvious, like kicking in a door or breaking glass. Just a noise that was out of place.”
This next part was the hardest. My delay in responding might have cost Bowyer his life. “Because I couldn’t identify it, I stayed in bed. I put the book aside to listen closer. And I didn’t hearanything else.” I crossed my arms under my breasts and took a deep breath. “Then my nose tickled.”
Dane frowned.
“Um, tickled, you know, could smell something unexpected,” I tried to clarify.
He nodded in understanding.
I jumped to my feet to pace the small room while I spoke. My need to stay in motion felt overwhelming. Dane watched my movement, though made no effort to stop me. I guess he knew this wasn’t a prelude to trying to escape. That was no longer my plan, anyway. Not when I had an Enforcer at least somewhat on my side now.
“It didn’t take long,” I continued, “for my brain to recognize that what I smelled was smoke. Yet I still didn’t recognize the danger.” I shook my head in disbelief at myself. How stupid. “I assumed that Bowyer had gotten hungry in the middle of the night.”
“Foulans do not vent smoke from cooking in the house,” Dane interrupted in confusion.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But in the middle of the night, I wasn’t that logical. In my mind, he was getting a snack.” I offered a one-shoulder shrug and dropped my gaze to the floor, frozen in place as the memory raced ahead.
“I opened my bedroom door and smoke poured in. So much smoke. I was stunned by it, actually.” Even now, it amazed me that I’d had no idea smoke already filled the house because of my door’s incredible insulation.
“Stop, drop, and roll,” I muttered by rote.
“What was that?” Dane asked.
“An Earth saying,” I answered with a half-smile. “Stop, drop, and roll were directions taught to kids. For what to do if you caught on fire.”
“But you were not on fire?” he asked, confused again.
I snorted. “I didn’t say it was logical. Anyway,” I continued, pushing the memory of the smoke and heat down. The next part…
“I dropped to the floor below the worst of the smoke and held my shirt over my face. I crawled down the hall, calling out for Bowyer. Our house was one story at ground level—not like where we are now, up a flight of stairs,” I explained.
“Understood.”
“My room was on one side of the house and his was on the other, closer to the kitchen and storage room.” The sound of my blood thumping roared in my ears, but I knew it wouldn’t drown out the sounds of what came next.
“I had reached the living area when I saw the flames. Bowyer’s side of the house appeared engulfed. Imagine great plumes of smoke with licks of fire interspersed. That’s what I saw. Until a figure emerged.” I swallowed several times, trying to moisten my bone-dry mouth and throat.
“It… he…was on fire. His mouth opened and—” Tears streamed down my cheeks. I roughly brushed them away with the back of my hand. I needed to get through this. “The most awful scream came out.” I shook my head at the remembered horror. “I rose from the floor, intending to go to him. It was too late. He fell forward and didn’t move.”
I strode back to the couch and retook my seat, my eyes raw from the tears, though they’d at least stopped flowing. “I knew he was dead and that I would be too if I didn’t leave immediately. The front door was to my left. I made a sharp pivot and ran, hunched over, shirt back over my face, toward the door. The smoke and heat swirled around me while I fumbled with the lock at the front door. But I got it.” I inhaled deeply. “That was the sweetest air I’d ever breathed,” I finished. “I’d made it out. Then I turned around to watch the rest of the house burn down.”
Dane’s face remained stoic as I told my story. At the end, the corner of one eye twitched, and I wondered what that meant. “Who responded to the fire?” he asked.
“Idhova’s version of the fire department. I stayed huddled outside while they put the fire out. The firefighters checked on me. My neighbors asked if I needed anything. Everything seemed like a terrible tragedy. And I was lucky to be alive.” My voice hardened. “That’s when I learned I might still be in danger.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“The fire warden came over to talk to me. It started innocuously enough. He told me the house was a total loss—not that surprising. When the firefighters finished, it was a burned-out husk. Then, when he asked questions about what happened, his tone changed. He told me an accelerant had been used. I played dumb and asked what that meant. Of course, he told me they suspected arson.”
“Given what you have said, arson seems like a natural guess, even before they found the accelerant,” Dane interrupted. “Why would you be in danger? You would not set fire to a house you were living in,” he concluded.
“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” I responded. “The warden began asking pointed questions about who I was, why I was in Bowyer’s life…”
“What is it?” Dane asked when my voice trailed off.
I mentally slapped my forehead. “The warden also asked me about the business Bowyer was in. Like you did. At the time, I didn’t make the connection, and assumed that the warden was wondering if I’d killed Bowyer for personal reasons. Now I wonder just how much authorities knew of his illicit trade, and overlooked it, in exchange for kickbacks or—” I shuddered. “—samples of the procured exotics.”