Page 13

T he fire was beautiful.

It danced over the bones, growing like vines, using the skeleton like scaffolding to climb higher.

Leo stood in the center of my creation, flames licking up his legs, crawling across his skin. His eyes remained fixed on mine, trusting even as his flesh blackened. No screaming. No begging. Just acceptance as my fire consumed him piece by piece.

I didn't move to save him. Didn't want to. This was perfection. Leo was becoming part of my art, transformed by my flames. His body cracked open like a geode, revealing something more precious inside. The fire illuminated him from within, turning his organs to molten gold, his blood to liquid rubies. He'd never been more beautiful than in this moment of absolute surrender to my element.

The melody of his burning bones played a song only I could hear. A symphony of destruction and rebirth. I circled him, drinking in every detail of his transformation. This wasn't death. This was transcendence.

But then the scent changed. Became chemical. Synthetic. Wrong.

My fire would never smell like that. My fire was organic. Pure. This was contaminated. Corrupted.

My eyes snapped open to absolute darkness. No security lights. No blinking monitors. Only that acrid stench filling my lungs.

Someone else's fire. Not in my house. But close. Too close.

Through the gap in the curtains, I could see thick smoke billowing past the streetlights. The funeral home.

"Fuck! Leo, wake up!" I grabbed his shoulder, shaking him roughly. "The funeral home's on fire!"

He came awake instantly, muscle memory from his Army days kicking in. No useless questions. No confusion. Just immediate, alert focus.

"What happened to the alarms?" he asked, already reaching for his glasses.

"They haven’t gone off." I yanked open the drawer for my Glock. "Something’s wrong."

Cold rage crystallized in my veins as I checked the magazine and slid the gun into my waistband. This might’ve been another attack, another of Phoenix’s targets. Neither of us said it, but we were both thinking it.

"We need to get everyone out," Leo said, scrambling to pull on my black hoodie.

"I'll get Mom and Tatty," I said, already moving to the door. "Dad and Yuri’s room is at the end of the hall."

I shoved into the hallway, expecting to collide with Mom rushing to alert us. Nothing. The corridor stretched before me, dark and silent.

"Mom! Fire!" I shouted, already moving down the hallway. "Get up! Now!"

Doors flew open. Mom appeared in her doorway, instantly alert.

"It's the funeral home," I said, not breaking stride.

That was all she needed. No questions, no hesitation. She grabbed her go-bag in one fluid motion. "The lockbox—"

"On it," I cut her off, already heading for the stairs. "Get Dad out. Call River."

Leo was right behind me, keeping pace as we rushed down the stairs and out the door. Outside, the night air hit like a slap, heavy with smoke and chemical stink. The funeral home blazed against the night sky, orange flames devouring the Victorian facade.

"Fuck," Leo muttered, taking in the inferno.

I was already calculating the fastest route through the burning building. The lockbox was in Dad's office—three minutes in, maybe less. It contained every document that could destroy us: the real death certificates, the altered coroner's reports, the evidence of what we really did with certain bodies. If investigators found it...

"Xavier, wait!" Leo grabbed my arm, pulling me back with surprising strength. "You can't go in there!"

"I have to," I pulled free. "If I don't get that lockbox, my whole family could go to prison!"

"I'm not letting you die for a box!" Leo planted himself in front of me, eyes wild with determination. "The chemicals could blow any second. They're designed to, remember? That's why your dad keeps the embalming chemicals in that special storage room!"

"Move," I growled, the instinct to protect my family overriding everything else.

"No!" His hands pressed against my chest, refusing to budge.

A thunderous boom cut through his words. The ground beneath us shook as the back corner of the funeral home erupted in a fireball, windows shattering outward. The chemical storage had ignited.

I lunged for Leo, tackling him to the ground and covering his body with mine as debris rained down around us. Heat washed over my back in a suffocating wave, the scent of burning chemicals searing my nostrils. I kept him pinned beneath me until the initial blast subsided, shielding him from the worst of it.

"Xavier!" Leo gasped, his hands frantically checking me for injuries as I rolled off him. "Are you burned? Are you okay?"

I nodded, ears ringing as I stared at the flames devouring the funeral home. The lockbox, the evidence, everything—gone.

Mom and Dad rushed toward us from the house. "Are you hurt?" Mom demanded, eyes scanning us for injuries.

I was too busy checking Leo for injuries to answer, my hands running over his arms, his face, his chest. "You okay? Any burns? Anything cut?"

"I'm fine," he assured me, catching my hands. "You protected me. We're both okay."

The relief that flooded through me was almost painful in its intensity. Leo was safe. That's what mattered most. Not the evidence, not the business, not anything else.

"The files," Dad said, his voice hollow as he stared at the inferno that had been his business for decades.

Dad stood frozen, watching flames devour the building he'd poured his life into. His face crumpled with genuine grief, not just for the lost evidence, but for the business he'd built with his own hands. The place where he'd spent countless hours perfecting his craft, taking pride in giving the dead dignity in their final journey.

"Thirty years," he whispered, his Russian accent thickening with emotion. "All those people I helped... their families..." His hands trembled as he reached toward the inferno, a futile gesture of longing.

Mom slipped her arm around him, her own expression hardening into resolve. "We'll rebuild, Yuri. Every brick. Better than before. But first, we contain the damage."

She turned to me. "I'll call Ash. His FBI connections might help."

The sirens grew louder, multiple engines converging on our burning legacy. I kept Leo close as we moved to join Mom and Dad near the driveway. His body trembled slightly against mine, not from the cold but from the adrenaline crash.

River and Theo materialized from the growing crowd of neighbors. River's face revealed nothing as he assessed the situation, but I caught the subtle tightening around his eyes. He understood immediately what this meant.

"Did anyone see anything?" River asked, voice pitched low.

I shook my head. "We were all asleep. By the time we smelled smoke, it was already too late."

Fire trucks blocked the street, emergency lights painting everything in strobing red. Firefighters deployed, hoses snaking across the pavement, the dull roar of water pressure building as they attacked the blaze. A waste of effort. The building was already lost.

The next hour blurred into a tired dance of statements and sympathy. We played our roles flawlessly—the devastated business owner, the supportive family, the traumatized boyfriend. Fire officials asked their predictable questions. Dad provided his rehearsed answers about chemicals and storage. Mom wept at strategic moments. Neighbors gathered to gawk while Theo moved among them, planting seeds of gas leaks and faulty wiring. River handled the police, directing attention away from anything that might raise suspicions.

Ash Valentine arrived halfway through and started flashing his former FBI status around. His presence provided exactly the buffer we needed, steering investigators toward conclusions that would keep us safe.

I kept Leo close, my arm around his shoulders both performance and necessity. His exhaustion wasn't fake. The tremors running through his body were real, the hollow look in his eyes genuine. Two fires in one week had left their mark, wearing him down to raw nerves and sheer willpower.

I spotted him before anyone else did. Something in my blood recognized its source, some primal part of me sensing his approach like prey feels a predator. I stiffened, my arm tightening around Leo's shoulders.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" I growled, watching as a sleek black Bentley rolled to a stop at the police barricade.

Leo followed my gaze, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Is that...?"

"Algerone." The name tasted acrid on my tongue.

The crowd of officers and firefighters parted as Algerone Caisse-Etremont stepped from his vehicle. Even from this distance, his predatory grace was unmistakable—tailored suit without a wrinkle despite the hour, silver-streaked hair immaculately styled, and that face that was an older, harder version of my own. The face I'd see in the mirror in thirty years if I lived that long.

He moved through the chaos like he owned it, which, knowing him, he probably did. Nothing happened in this part of Ohio without his knowledge or permission. Nothing except this fire.

Behind him followed Maxime, his personal assistant, efficiency personified in a pristine suit, tablet in hand as always. The man's fingers darted across the screen, likely already updating schedules and making arrangements.

"Xavier." Algerone's voice carried easily across the space between us, commanding rather than requesting my attention. Even after all this time, something in me responded to that voice. Part of my genetic code recognizing the one who'd created it. Hating that response only made it more obvious.

Mom's head snapped up, her carefully constructed mask of grieving business owner flickering for just a second before settling back into place. Dad's hand slipped to the small of her back, steadying her. The perfect united front they always presented when Algerone appeared.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not bothering to disguise the hostility in my voice as Algerone approached. "This doesn't concern you."

"Someone tried to incinerate my son's family home,” he said. "I'd say that concerns me quite directly."

"We've got it handled," I ground out.

Mom stepped forward, her spine straightening as she positioned herself between us. "Algerone. Your concern is... appreciated. But as Xavier said, we have this under control."

"Is it, Annie?" The way he said her name was cold, layered with years of resentment. I could feel the tension crackling between them. Algerone had never forgiven her for taking us, for keeping his children hidden from him for years. In his mind, she had stolen what belonged to him. "Because right now it looks like you could use all the help you can get. Unless you want the investigators sifting through the remains of your business? I'm certain they wouldn't find anything out of the ordinary."

Mom narrowed her eyes, one hand clenching into a fist. I didn't blame her. Algerone was always manipulative, but doing it while our family legacy burned behind us? That was an especially dickish move.

But what choice did we have? Ash had a lot of pull, but he couldn't put a stop to an arson investigation. Algerone could. He had enough contacts in the right places to bring the whole damn state to a grinding halt if he wanted.

"This is our home," she said firmly.

"It was your home. Now? It's a target." Algerone shoved his hands deep in his pockets and looked straight at me with those piercing green eyes that were so much like my own.

He looked like he was going to say something for a moment before deciding instead to shift his attention to Leo. The way he looked at him made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I had the strangest urge to move between them and bare my teeth at Algerone. How dare he look at my Leo like that?

"If you have something to say, say it to me," I ground out.

Algerone's attention snapped back to me, where it belonged. "Two blazes in one week," he said, and my blood ran cold.

He knew.

I shouldn't have been surprised Algerone was spying on me. He was a resourceful fucker, and his children were his most valued possessions. I could say a lot of bad things about my biological father, but the one thing I couldn't call him was a slouch when it came to protecting what he considered his. If anything, he went overboard.

But he knew about the fire at Leo's place, and he somehow knew it was connected to this one, which meant he probably knew at least as much as me about Phoenix. Maybe more. What I wouldn't give to have access to his databases. His mercenary company, Lucky Losers Inc., had enough tech to make the fucking Army look like they were playing with toy soldiers.

The fucker knew what he was dangling in front of me, too. He knew that I'd want whatever info he had, access to his resources. Him, I could take or leave, but if he was willing to give me what I needed to protect Leo? How could I say no?

I forced my shoulders to relax and stood up straight, mimicking his posture by shoving my hands in my pockets. "What do you want?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a slight smirk, like he'd fucking won. "What I want is to secure your safety."

I crossed my arms. "And what does that look like?"

Algerone lifted his eyes, scanning the fire. "Ideally, locking you in a safe room in Spade Tower while I send out a team to find and deal with this... Phoenix."

"No deal," I started to say, but he cut me off.

"However..." His eyes snapped back to mine. "I am willing to... compromise." He said the last word like it pained him. "Maxime?"

Maxime shuffled forward, fingers scrolling over the tablet screen. "The Sentinel is available, sir," he said and handed Algerone the screen.

Algerone looked over the screen. "Ah, yes. A state-of-the-art off-the-grid smart home in a secure location. Fourteen bedrooms, each with reinforced steel-core doors and biometric locks. The master suite includes a panic room with an independent air filtration system and a direct encrypted line to my private network."

He glanced back at the tablet. "The house itself is self-sustaining—solar, geothermal, and a concealed backup generator capable of running the entire property indefinitely. The security system is military-grade: thermal imaging cameras, motion sensors keyed to recognize residents, and AI-driven threat analysis. Every window is ballistic glass, and the entire structure can go into lockdown at a moment's notice."

Mom's jaw tightened, but he continued.

"Entertainment won't be an issue, if that's your concern. The media room is equipped with a 200-inch OLED screen, spatial audio, and a full VR suite. There's a heated indoor pool, a sauna, and a gym outfitted with professional-grade equipment. The wine cellar is stocked, and the kitchen is chef-designed with every luxury imaginable."

He paused, tilting his head. "And, of course, the location itself is ideal. Secluded, surrounded by acres of protected forest, with only one discreet access road. Drones patrol the perimeter at randomized intervals, ensuring no one approaches undetected. If anything gets within a mile of the property without clearance, you'll know before they do."

Algerone handed the tablet back to Maxime and clasped his hands behind his back. "It's the best option. Safe, comfortable, and, most importantly—impenetrable."

I felt Leo's subtle shift beside me, the slight quickening of his breath at the description. If I knew anything about Leo, he was practically about to cream his pants just hearing about all that tech. I couldn't blame him. It sounded like the perfect nerd playground. But this was Algerone. He didn't offer anything without a price in mind.

Mom crossed her arms. "And what do you want in return?"

Algerone's expression didn't flicker. "Nothing."

I scoffed. "Bullshit."

His gaze slid to me, cool and unreadable. "The price has already been paid."

That sent a ripple of unease through us. Mom stiffened, and even River—who usually didn't blink at Algerone's cryptic nonsense—tilted his head slightly, watching him with that assessing look he got when someone was lying to his face.

Dad was the one who finally spoke. "Explain what you mean."

Algerone let out a slow breath, as if he'd expected the question and was already bored with it. "The funeral home was a symbol of your strength. It made you a target. But it was also a liability." His eyes flickered to Mom. "You built something powerful, Annie, but Phoenix found a weakness. They exploited it. This is a fresh start."

Mom's jaw tightened, but he continued.

"The Sentinel is secure. And the fewer ties you have to your old life, the harder it will be for Phoenix to find you again." His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk. "You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" I let out a laugh, sharp and humorless. "You expect us to be grateful that you're sweeping in like some savior, sticking us in one of your high-tech cages?"

Algerone arched a brow. "Would you rather stay here and wait for the next attack? Because there will be a next attack."

The words hung heavy in the air. No one argued.

I glanced at Leo, finding his eyes already on me. Two fires in one week—both targeting him, both escalating in violence. I thought about the files I'd been compiling on Phoenix, the hints we'd been gathering. Close, but not close enough. Not fast enough to keep Leo safe.

Misha exhaled through his nose. "If we do this, how long are we supposed to stay?"

Algerone spread his hands. "As long as necessary."

Which meant indefinitely.

Mom's fingers flexed at her sides. I could see the war going on behind her eyes. She hated being backed into a corner, hated being told what to do—especially by Algerone. But she wasn't reckless, and she wasn't stupid. She knew as well as the rest of us that we were vulnerable.

Finally, she exhaled through her nose and looked at Dad. "What do you think?"

Dad glanced at Nikita, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Nikita and I will head to the Columbus safe house," Dad said, his voice firm despite the exhaustion lining his face. "We have contacts there who can help rebuild the business quietly. A temporary funeral home until we can sort this mess out." He turned to me. "The rest of you should go with Algerone. His security is better than anything we could cobble together right now, especially with Leo being targeted."

Mom looked like she wanted to argue, but the logic was sound. We needed to split up. That’d make it harder to target all of us at once.

Algerone smiled like he'd won something. "Excellent. Maxime will handle the arrangements. You'll leave within the hour."

I clenched my fists. Because no matter how nice The Sentinel sounded, it didn't change the fact that we were walking straight into Algerone's hands. And something told me that once we stepped inside, we wouldn't be leaving on our terms.

But I'd do it. For Leo. To keep him safe, I'd walk into any trap—even one set by my own father.