Pauline took Saria’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “I hope Iris didn’t hurt you with her snide comments.”

“No. I always hope she won’t come at me that way, but then I see what she does to Charisse and I know she does it because I’m friends with Charisse. Charisse is an amazing woman, Miss Pauline, and her mother doesn’t even see it. I went with her once to the hospital. She visited the children’s ward and she brought them all kinds of things and spent hours talking to the kids on the cancer floor. They all knew her by name. She goes there often. Her mother found out because we were late getting back and she was furious with Charisse and told her she’d better not bring some horrible disease home.”

“Iris has a terrible fear of illness,” Pauline said. “She always has.” Pauline patted Saria’s hand. “Get some sleep, cher, I’ll be back this evening.”

Saria blew her a kiss and sank down into a chair at the table. She was too tired to eat, but Drake was eating, so she drank a cup of coffee, hoping it would keep her awake long enough to get up the stairs to bed.

In the end, Drake carried her up the stairs and tucked blankets around her. The coffee definitely hadn’t worked—she nearly fell asleep sitting at the table. The moment her head hit the pillow she was asleep, barely aware of Drake’s body pressed tightly up against hers.

She dreamt of her leopard running in the swamp, feeling the freedom of her animal form for the first time. She’d never realized how easy it was to travel in the body of a cat, flowing over every obstacle, sensing where the ground was thin, hearing the very heartbeat of the swamp. A whiff of drifting smoke through the swamp had her cat wrinkling her nose. Her heart accelerated as adrenaline poured in. All wild things despised the smell of smoke, that heralding of imminent disaster. Her leopard coughed—lungs burning. She coughed.

Her cat clawed at her, raked and snarled in warning. “Bad dream,” Saria murmured, trying to pry her eyes open to bring an end to the beginnings of a nightmare. She coughed again and opened her eyes. It was impossible to see anything with the room filled with smoke.

“Drake!” She shook him, rolling from the bed onto the floor where she could breathe a little easier. She dragged his body down after hers. He landed heavily, just beginning to stir. Something wasn’t right. Drake always—always—came awake completely alert. “Drake! Fire. The inn is on fire and the smoke alarms aren’t goin’ off. Wake up now!”

17

DRAKE heard Saria’s voice from a gre

at distance, as if he was in a long tunnel and the fog was so thick, it muffled not only sound but vision as well. He opened his mouth to call to her, but instantly his lungs burned for air. He coughed, realizing he was on the floor and Saria was trying to wake him. What the hell was wrong? His leopard roared at him, clawing and raking in alarm. Smoke in the room was so thick he could barely make out Saria, who knelt over him.

“The smoke alarms aren’t workin’.” Saria pressed her mouth against his ear. “I think we’ve all been drugged. If we can’t wake up, neither can the others.”

Drake fought the layers of fog, pushing himself up gebreak/>

She crawled along the floor to the French doors and reached up to the doorknob. Drake paused at the door to the hall to watch her. He couldn’t feel any heat coming off the door, but he was cautious as he reached for the handle, still watching Saria. She should have already been on the balcony.

“What’s wrong?” It was impossible to ignore his stomach, the terrible churning, and he knew he was going to be sick very soon.

“It won’t open. Somethin’s blockin’ it.” She tried her shoulder, but the door wouldn’t budge. Saria pressed her hand to her mouth, suppressing a cough. “I feel sick, Drake.”

“Me, too, baby. We’ll get out of this.” Drake crawled back to her. Smoke was coming in under the hallway door, which meant the fire was probably in the hallway, although the sprinkler system hadn’t come on and the door wasn’t hot at all. Puzzled, he tried the balcony door. Something was holding it closed from the outside. “Get back, honey,” he ordered and made his way to the chair.

He had to stand to get a good swing at the thick glass, but he called on his leopard’s strength and smashed the glass. Fresh air poured in. He was careful to break off the jagged pieces before allowing Saria through the broken glass.

She staggered to the railing, coughing, turning back to look at the other balconies. “All of them are blocked, Drake. We’ll have to open them for the others. They might not be awake, or they’re tryin’ to crawl through the hallway like you would have done to warn everyone.” She bent her head and vomited, over and over.

Drake did the same, emptying the contents of his stomach. Strangely, it made him feel a little better. “I’ll go left. You go right, but Saria, don’t you go back into the inn.”

She sent him a wan smile, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ll be careful.”

Drake leapt up, caught the edge of the roof and somersaulted up to run along the outer edge to the next balcony. Sure enough, the door had been barred from the outside. He glanced down to the lower story, expecting to see flames or smoke, but it didn’t look as if the fire was burning on the first story at all.

“Evan.” He yanked the board from under the knob and opened the door. Thick black smoke billowed out of the room. “Evan!”