Waltz into Fire

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Waltz into Fire Page 1

by L. J. Garland




  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

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  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Waltz into Fire

  Copyright © 2018 by L.J. Garland and Debbie Gould

  ISBN: 978-1-68361-213-1

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Waltz into Fire

  What would you do if you heard fire whispering in your ear? Would you listen? What if that fire led you to your soul mate...only to discover he had two weeks left to live? Would you walk away or seize the time remaining? What if, during those few days, you learned the man you loved was linked to an evil entity? Do you trust your love?

  Firefighter, Fallon Anderson, believes she’s gone mad. While she searches for a young boy in a blazing house, the fire speaks to her, guiding her to his location. Once she has him safely outside, the boy is whisked off to the hospital while a handsome paramedic onsite tends to her injuries. Though she’s sworn off men since her last boyfriend broke her heart, she might make an exception for the attractive medic.

  Zane West’s days are numbered. Down to less than three weeks, he spends what time he has left saving lives. He’s impressed by the sexy firefighter carrying the kid from the burning home. Attraction flares, but with only a few days of his life remaining, what would be the point of starting a relationship? However, her injuries dictate otherwise, and when he patches up Fallon, sparks fly between them…literally.

  Passion ignites regardless of the secrets they both struggle to keep hidden. And it’s those very secrets that hurl them into a paranormal battle. Fallon and Zane will have to trust one another with their deepest fears if they hope to win the desperate race against time where the prize on the line is their souls. Only together can they hope to survive.

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  Waltz into Fire

  Waltz into Fire

  THE SENTINELS Book 1

  By

  L.J. Garland & Debbie Gould

  Chapter One

  Where the hell is he? Fallon twisted to flip a smoldering table over. Nothing. Through her firefighter’s mask, she eyed the flames that licked the walls and ate the curtains and pictures. She swept her flashlight beam upward and caught sight of the thick nimbus clouds of smoke crowding the living room’s two-story vaulted ceiling. Damn, this didn’t look good.

  Sweat drenched her body beneath her protective turnout gear. Waves of heat battered her, demanding she retreat. But Fallon wouldn’t be intimidated. The fire could have the house. All she wanted was the boy.

  “Check the back hall and kitchen,” she shouted above the crackling din of the inferno surrounding her and her partner, Ryan. Aiming her light across the room, she appraised the sturdiness of the staircase. “I’m going up.”

  Ryan thumbed his mic. “Radio check.”

  They’d already tested their equipment before entering, but Ryan wasn’t one for taking chances.

  “Check,” she answered.

  “What’s the kid’s name?”

  “The parents said David.” She readjusted the strap over her shoulder with the bag containing a small
emergency air tank.

  “Got it. Okay, the house is almost fully involved.” He craned his neck to inspect the floor above them. “Ten minutes, Fallon.”

  She gave him a thumbs-up and strode across the room, leaving him to finish the search downstairs. Mounting the charred staircase, she took each step with care, skimming her shoulder against the wall. When she reached the upper landing, she paused to gain her bearings. A heavy smoke veil pervaded the second floor, lessening the effectiveness of her flashlight. Thank goodness for the ten-foot ceilings. Any lower and she’d have been crawling on the floor.

  Damn. That kid could be anywhere. The heat alone was enough to render him unconscious. The lack of oxygen could have already suffocated him. Dread snaked through her, sinking fangs of doubt into her lungs.

  Tightening her grip on the flashlight, Fallon swallowed the horrid thought and calmed her mind. Don’t waste energy on negativity. Stick to training. Do the job. She unleashed a deep-seated determination, allowing it to suffuse her body with fortitude. It wasn’t too late. She would find the boy.

  Hunching over, she pivoted right and advanced toward what looked like the kids’ rooms. She’d made it halfway down the hallway when a loud crack thundered overhead, and she stumbled back. A part of the ceiling plummeted to the floor where she’d stood, embers and ash pluming into the air. The end wall erupted in flame.

  Fallon eased forward. “David!”

  She strained to hear a yell or knock. Nothing.

  But what if he’d passed out on the floor, and she couldn’t get to him? Fallon shuffled closer to the sweltering doorway, the fire searing the jamb. For a moment, the undulating flame mesmerized her. Brilliant orange fingers embraced the wood frame—a lover’s caress while the blaze consumed.

  Aiming the flashlight into the bedroom, she swept the beam across the floor and burned-out bed. “David? Are you in there?”

  “Nooo….”

  Fallon jolted, whirled around, half expecting to find Ryan behind her. A smoky haze greeted her. She turned back to the bedrooms, flashed the light into the other room, and discovered half the roof had fallen in, exposing flame and smoke to the star-filled summer night. Dead end.

  “Fallon,” Ryan said over the radio. “You find him?”

  “Not yet.” Movement caught her eye, and she glanced up.

  Tendrils of fire raced through the bedroom doorways and converged above her head. Stumbling back, she lifted her chin to inspect the unusual movement. Had a window blown out somewhere, fueling the flame?

  “Follow….” came a crackly voice in her ears.

  Fallon thumbed the mic. “Come again?”

  “Negative. Time’s up.”

  She turned, her gaze locked on the multiple thin lines of fire that streaked and twined along the wall in a fiery braid. The damn thing pointed toward the opposite end of the house.

  What the…? Could the kid be there? I must be losing my mind. Fire can’t talk. A rush of chills attacked her skin, triggering a violent shudder. But still….

  She shook her head and spoke into the mic. “One more room, and I’m out.” Stick to training. Do the job. She would never sleep if she didn’t check the master bedroom.

  “Out, Fallon,” Ryan said. “The second floor’s about to give.”

  “I’m already there.” She crossed the threshold, her gaze scanning the hazy floor for the boy’s body. “Two minutes.”

  She headed toward the bathroom, but a wisp of orange launched from the wall to the doorway, a warning salvo that blocked her path with an explosion of fire.

  “No….”

  Accepting the voice in her head as some type of sixth sense or subconscious knowledge, Fallon whirled around, her flashlight exposing another door. Had the kid hidden in the walk-in closet? Rushing across the room, she entered the close-quartered area. Her gaze searched amid the hanging clothes, scattered shoes, and stacks of boxes for a glimpse of the boy.

  “David?”

  Nothing. Fallon turned to exit, but a crack erupted just outside the door, and a burning beam crashed to the floor. Crap. Now she’d gone and gotten herself trapped. She reached for her mic to alert Ryan of her situation.

  “Search….” The scratchy voice met her ears once again.

  “I did search,” she yelled. “He’s not in here.”

  “Search….”

  Fallon gritted her teeth against the fear attempting to strangle her focus. God, she was talking with the fire. Had she gone mad? Jerking garments from hangers, she hurled them to the floor.

  “He’s not here,” she screamed. “Now let me out!”

  “Fallon,” Ryan called over the radio. “Where are you?”

  She spoke into her mic. “I’m trapped. Master closet.”

  “I’m coming up.”

  Fire danced along the doorjamb but didn’t enter the cramped area.

  “Keep…searching….”

  Fallon turned, trained her light on the wall. She shoved the remaining clothing to the side, exposing the drywall behind. She sucked deep breaths of oxygen through her self-contained breathing apparatus mask. The labored sound tortured her ears. What was she doing? The closet wasn’t huge. If the kid had been in here, she would’ve found him by now.

  She shoved a rack of skirts to the side and targeted her flashlight on the back wall.

  REDS.

  Fallon stared at the word scrawled in thick permanent marker across the attic access door. Another rush of chills assaulted her, the icy pinpricks in stark contrast to the suffocating heat crushing her. Was he there?

  She grasped the ornate knob and jerked the door open. A brown-haired boy tumbled onto the floor.

  Fallon’s heart banged against her sternum. “David!”

  Grabbing the kid, she held him close. His eyelids fluttered, and a pair of weary brown eyes stared up at her.

  “Ryan, I’ve got him.” She gazed down at the boy’s soot-marred face. “It’s okay, David. You’re going to be all right now.”

  All she had to do was wait for Ryan to set both of them free from this claustrophobic closet. Jerking the bag off her shoulder, she pulled out the small emergency air tank and set the attached mask over the kid’s nose and mouth. He sucked in a gulp of air, and a violent cough shook him.

  Gathering him in her arms, she kept the mask pressed to his face. What was taking Ryan so long? Glancing over her shoulder, she discovered the doorway that had been barred now stood clear. The wood beam lay burned and broken on the floor. The flames that had danced along the doorjamb had vanished, leaving charred wood in its wake.

  Fallon inhaled a jerky breath. Without waiting for an explanation, she shoved to her feet and pivoted with the child in her arms. “I’m going to get you out of here, David. Back to your mom and dad.”

  She bolted into the bedroom where she skidded to an abrupt stop. Bright orange globules vaulted from one wall to the next, fiery tails streaming in long, dazzling arcs. For all her training, Fallon had never witnessed anything as extraordinary as this.

  “Run….”

  Fallon escaped to the hallway, her flashlight beam raking the walls helter-skelter. Ryan stood at the top of the stairs. Relief flooded through her, and she rushed toward her partner. The boy would be all right.

  The bank of windows lining the back wall exploded. Fallon shielded the kid as the force shoved her to the floor. Glancing up, she caught sight of Ryan lumbering toward her.

  The stairs collapsed. Behind his oxygen mask, Ryan’s eyes widened. A moment later, he disappeared, plummeting through the hole.

  “Ryan!”

  A bone-rattling succession of splintering cracks jolted through her boots, each explosion vibrating the air. The floor beneath her feet trembled and quaked with a brutal buck.

  The landing tilted with such abrupt force that Fallon tumbled backward. Still clutching the kid to her chest, she dug her heels into the carpet in an attempt to slow their sliding descent to the ground floor. The boy wailed, clinging to her jacket with grubby hands
.

  Fear clawed Fallon’s throat. Scorching talons clutched her windpipe, searing it closed. The floor angle was too steep. She couldn’t stop them from slipping. Smoke billowed in thick black clouds, and a spray of embers dashed into the air, sparking pinpoints fizzling to ash.

  Flames feasted on the railing that lined the loft, leaving nothing between Fallon and the raging maw of darkness below.

  Chapter Two

  Irritation scratched at Zane’s nerves, an unrelenting war between anticipation and action that left him jittery. He paced the area behind his ambulance, his boots eating up the same swath of asphalt with each pass. His hands itched to do something to help. Reaching into the leg pocket of his tactical pants, he retrieved a pair of latex gloves and shoved his hand into one.

  Myriad fire and rescue lights flashed in concert with the offbeat strobes atop two police cars, alerting residents something was amiss in their neighborhood. People would have to be blind to miss the mini-mansion engulfed in flames. Zane pivoted and stopped, his gaze absorbing the scene. Glass had blown out across the front lawn, and fire gorged on the siding and spiked through the shingles. Smoke wafted from the windows, the eaves, the rooftop, and disappeared into the dark summer night sky.

  He gritted his teeth. Two firefighters searching for a kid in that? Yeah, his EMT skills would be needed—if anyone came out.

  “You taking bets on crispy critters?” Macky said in a thick Texan drawl. His partner pulled a gurney from the back of the truck, gravity snapping the legs open so the wheels met the ground.

  “You’re one morbid SOB, you know that?” Zane grabbed the large first aid kit and set it on the bumper.

  “Damn, Zane. We see morbid shit every run.” Macky checked the straps on the gurney. His precise movements indicated experience. However, his furrowed brow contradicted his crass banter—if the guy didn’t laugh, he’d cry. “I thought you New Yorkers had seen it all.”

  “I’ve seen enough.” More than he cared to recall. Zane rubbed a hand over his biceps, the ache there an ever-present reminder of why he’d left the Big Apple. He shifted toward a bin to get some extra gauze and tape. When he flipped the latch, the door popped open, and everything inside tumbled to the floor. “Damn it.”

 

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