Free Touching Smoke by Airicka Phoenix Page A

humanly possible, trying so hard to suck her inside me somehow. I was only distinctly aware of someone shouting my name. But it meant nothing to me.
    “Come back!” I wept into my mother’s shoulder. “Please, come back! I’m sorry! Please!”
    Something grabbed my elbow. “Fallon! Get up!”
    “No!” I threw the hold off with a twist of my arm. “I won’t leave her!”
    “Get up!” The grip returned, tighter than before. “She’s gone, Fallon! You need to let go!”
    I shook my head, clutching my mother’s head closer to my chest. “The fireball should have hit me!”
    Isaiah crouched down in front of me, his face as dark as the smoking gun in his hand. “We need to go! I’ve managed to get Gaston and Mistral back behind a building, but they won’t stay there for much longer.”
    I didn’t hear him. “I never told her I loved her,” my lungs seized under the wheezing breath I tried to suck in. “I never told her. She died thinking I hated her! This is my fault… she died because of me,”
    His fingers were warm against my face when he gripped my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. “She never questioned your love for her.”
    I shook my head. “She didn’t know! I didn’t tell her. I didn’t let her explain.”
    He wiped my cheeks. “Did anyone know you better than she did?” I shook my head again, unconsciously leaning into his touch. “Then she knew.”
    I looked down into her face, memorizing every inch of it, hurting with the realization that I would never again look into her green eyes. I would never see her smile, hear her laugh or feel her soft fingers against my face. She was gone forever and I was powerless to do anything.
    “I don’t know what to do,” I said to her, ears ringing, eyes blurring. “Tell me what to do.”
    His answer was the jerk of his weapon-bearing arm. The gun exploded in rapid succession, much louder and jarring that close as he fired at something over my shoulder. I yelped, slamming both hands over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.
    It lasted only a second, but my ears rang long after he lowered the weapon and grabbed my arm. “You need to come with me. Now!”
    I shook my head. “I won’t leave her here in the street!”
    He hesitated only long enough to stash his gun into the waistband of his slacks before taking her from me and lifting her up into his arms. I staggered after him to the Impala and watched with grappling sorrow as he laid her down gently into the backseat.
    “Get in!” he said to me from over his shoulder.
    I didn’t wait to be told twice. The eerie figures from Lady Clare’s Academy had unfolded themselves from the shadows, ghastly spirits moving, gliding, in our direction. I threw myself into the passenger’s side and slammed the door closed behind me.
    Isaiah closed the back door, jogged around the back of the car, guns blazing until he reached the driver’s side and threw himself inside.
    “Buckle up!” he said, turning the key and swerving out of the parking spot without waiting for me to do as he suggested.
    It was tricky getting the buckle in place when the seatbelt kept locking in place with his erratic driving. But I managed to finally strap myself in and grapple with the dashboard as we rounded corners and tore down deserted streets.
    “Where are we going?” I shouted over the roar of the engine.
    Casting a quick glance through the rearview mirror, Isaiah said, “Away from here.”
    I threw a frantic glance through the side mirror, searching for pursuers, relieved to find none. “I think we lost them.”
    Isaiah didn’t comment, but his snort said it all.
    We drove in no real direction for nearly two hour, until he was absolutely certain we’d lost the pair. Only when he was satisfied did he turn to me.
    “I have a friend who can help,” he said quietly. “I can call him—”
    I shook my head, unable to comprehend the fact that my mother would not be waking up and grumbling for her first cup of coffee;