Page 17 of Depraved Royals

No. That means the fire isn’t directly outside.

I open the door slowly, only to be hit in the face with smoke. My eyes stream and I’m hacking away, my throat closing as I move towards the stairs.

Get down on the ground. Get under the smoke.

I lie on my stomach and commando-crawl to the top of the stairwell. I can’t see anything for a moment, but then my eyes adjust a little, and the full extent of the danger I’m in is clear.

The first floor is an inferno. I have no idea how it could have gotten to this stage so fast without me noticing, but there’s no way I can get out. The heat is so intense that I can feel it drying out my eyes and throat, and I close my mouth, trying not to throw up as I swallow the particles of burning paint and plastic in the air.

I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna—

Fire exit. There is one on this floor. A door to a metal staircase outside. Where?

My thoughts are falling over each other as though they all want to get their turn before I lose consciousness.

The sprinklers didn’t come on. Is anyone coming to put the fire out? All my work is gone. I didn’t tell my Mama and Papa that I love them today.

I never even fell in love.

I’m halfway along the landing, the glow of the fire exit sign just visible before me. But I won’t make it. My limbs are leaden, and my body settles to the floor as though I’m just in need of a good nap, andthenI might try to escape.

My mind throws one more thought at me as it shuts down.

I never saw Kal again.

I close my eyes.

It’ll be over soon.

7

Dani

My body convulses, and I sit up involuntarily, heaving as I do so. My stomach feels like it might hurl itself out of my mouth. I punch my chest, trying to cough up what feels like a boulder lodged in there.

Strong arms grip me, and I realize I’m being carried. My eyes are so sore that I can’t see anything when I open them.

“I’m blind,” I croak. “Help me.”

“Iamhelping you,” a voice replies. “Just hold on, Dani.”

I blink hard, trying to clear my vision.

I recognize that voice.

This is a joke. I’m already dead.

“Kal?” I wheeze. “How did you? I mean, why are you… what’s…”

“Shh,” Kal says. “Stop trying to talk. You’re hurt.”

I have no energy to protest. I drop my head against his shoulder and feel the softness of his shirt against my face.

It has to be a dream.What the fuckis he doing here?

I can see the hazy shapes of the firefighters as they tackle the blaze. The oldest gallery in the district has gone forever, taking all my work with it.

It shouldn’t matter. At least I’m alive. But the exhibition was my chance to be recognized as an artist. Doors would have opened for me. I could have moved on, broken free, and been known as more than criminal royalty.