Free Broken Elements by Mia Marshall

Brian was old enough. I opted not to point out their deprived childhoods, lest I simultaneously point out how old I actually was.
    “Why didn’t you leave, too? It would seem like the far more sensible choice,” said Simon.
    “Yeah, well. What evidence have we given you that we are sensible people? No matter how old we were in human years, we were still dumb college kids. We thought we could do anything. We live so long and are so powerful that the threat of mortality never entered our minds. We wanted excitement, and we wanted to do something important. Maybe, we also wanted to do the right thing, but I can’t say that was the driving force, not then.”
    “I’d like to know how you amateur Holmes and Watsons actually managed to find this guy. At the moment, it sounds like a rather implausible movie plot,” said Simon, the man who turned into a cat.
    “Well, nothing would have happened without Sera’s father,” I began. I didn’t make it any further than that, however. A loud whistling noise pierced the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of broken glass in the living room. There was a split second in which we all froze, looking at each other and hoping we hadn’t heard what we all knew we had, then we moved as one.
    Simon immediately shifted, a process that took the blink of an eye. A small black cat ran out of the neck of his t-shirt, leaving a pile of clothes behind. He clambered his way up the wood posts and ran along the beams that decorated the living room’s ceiling. He was in the room a moment before everyone else, and his furious yowl confirmed that something unpleasant was waiting for us.
    We entered the room as a group, and immediately pulled to a stop. Vivian gasped. The sofa was ablaze, the fire already rising with unnatural speed. The hungry flames sought out the floor-length drapes and the plush rugs, eager to consume anything in their path. In a few minutes, the entire house would catch fire, and the wooden A-frame would be nothing but a burnt-out shell soon after. If the fire was left unchecked, everything would be destroyed.
    I’d seen this in my nightmares. I’d watched fires rising and rising, unstoppable, ravenous forces capable of taking everything from me. I’d dreamt of fires destroying my childhood home, my first apartment, my haven in the country. I had lived this moment so many times in the last ten years, imagining the horror, the screams, the absolute sense of powerlessness. It had finally found me.
    “Get out,” I hissed, not looking at anything beyond the hypnotic flames, dancing gleefully and mocking me with every snap. “Everyone, get out,” I said, loudly this time. Vivian gave my arm a quick squeeze, the only support she could realistically offer, then ran from the room.
    “You want me to call the fire department?” Brian asked. I shook my head, and he reluctantly stepped away, leaving the fire to me.
    “You too,” I said to Mac.
    “I’m not running while my house goes up in flames. There’s an extinguisher by the door.” The door was on the other side of the room, with a wall of flames separating us. It wasn’t an option. Mac didn’t seem to care. He’d ripped off his flannel shirt and was tying it around his face, an impromptu smoke mask. I decided he was both quite brave and an absolute idiot.
    “Get out of here. I can handle this, but I need to focus, which will be a lot easier if I’m not worried about you dying from smoke inhalation.”
    He looked doubtful, and shook his head. “I’m not leaving you to the same fate.”
    I was running out of time. I turned to face him, giving him my best glare, one I meant with every fiber of my being. “I am a water, you stubborn ass. This is something I can do. But if I’m more worried about extinguishing you than the sofa, I won’t be able to give all my attention to finding water molecules. Molecules this fire is rapidly eating, by the way. So get the hell out and let me work.”
    He looked uncertain, but