This one lasted until he made the turn onto his street, when he sent the fire slithering into smoke between his fingers.
After his night in the police station, after the argument with Layne’s father, after his sheer inability to protect Layne or save Simon or identify an arsonist, this new control fed him some pride.
It made him long for the next fire, to test his abilities.
As soon as he had the thought, Gabriel smashed it as quickly as he’d crushed the fire in his hands. There couldn’t be any more fires. He had to stop.
But there’d been a fire tonight. He should have been there. He could have helped.
By the time he reached his driveway, the misting rain had soaked through his hoodie and had probably done a number on the books in his backpack. Michael would be ready to raise hell, but Gabriel was so relieved to be home that he didn’t care. He’d listen to whatever his brother wanted to dish out and then some. The lights on the lower level were on, and there was an unfamiliar car in the driveway. It didn’t look like an unmarked police car, but anxiety grabbed Gabriel by the throat anyway.
He found the front door unlocked, and angry voices echoed from the back of the house. Michael was arguing with someone, loudly enough that he probably hadn’t even heard the door opening. Tension was riding high in here, an almost tangible field Gabriel had to cross just to make it through the doorway. From what he could see, the house wasn’t trashed—maybe the cops had just searched his room. He dropped his things in the foyer and headed for the kitchen.
The arguing stopped when he appeared in the doorway.
Michael was standing by the cooking island, his eyes furious—though his expression softened to something like relief when he saw Gabriel. Becca hunched close to Chris at one end of the table, their expressions tired and drawn. Hunter sat near them, his expression full of guilt and relief all at once.
And at the other end of the table stood the source of the arguing, Bill Chandler, Becca’s father.
Michael ran a hand back through his hair. “Thank god. Mr. Forrest called and said you got out of the car—”
“Because he was being an ass.” Gabriel cast another glance around the room, as if he could have missed his identical twin on the first pass. “Where’s Nick?”
Bill took a step forward, pointing a finger at Gabriel though he was still arguing with Michael. “Just because he came home now doesn’t mean there won’t be more complications. I told you to lie low. I told you I would only be able to protect you for so long—”
“Where’s Nick?”
“When the cops showed up, I told Nick and Chris not to come home,” said Michael.
“But there was another fire,” said Hunter. His voice was small.
It had almost been a relief, another fire occurring while Gabriel had a rock-solid alibi. But if Nick was involved—that feeling of anxiety turned into a noose. He couldn’t breathe around it. Had Layne’s father known? “Where is he?”
“In the hospital,” said Chris.
“He was with Quinn,” said Becca. “The fire was set at her house.”
“Nick’s okay,” said Michael. “They wanted to keep him overnight for observation, and they won’t let him leave without someone to sign him out. I asked Layne’s father not to tell you.”
“Quinn’s okay, too,” said Becca. “Nick got her out, then went back in for her little brother.”
Gabriel remembered telling Nick about the fires, and his twin’s comment about not being strong enough to go along.
Had Nick taken a risk just to prove himself?
Gabriel stared across at his older brother, feeling guilt and contempt steal some of the anxiety—but choking him just the same. “And you just left him in the hospital. Alone.”
“What the hell did you want me to do?” Michael suddenly looked like he wanted to hit something, and his words slammed into Gabriel like a fist. “You were at the police station and Nick was in the hospital—and I couldn’t help either of you, because the police were here all night, searching the house. I’ve spent weeks trying to help you, and you won’t tell me the truth about what you’re doing. Layne’s father keeps you out of jail, and instead of trying to figure out how to repay him, you tell him off on the side of the road. We’re all in danger here, and you’re bringing it right to our doorstep. And you’re going to get pissed at me?”
Gabriel flinched.
“I told you,” Bill snapped. “I told you this would happen if you didn’t keep your abilities in check—”
“We didn’t start those fires,” said Hunter. “We helped. People would have died otherwise.” For the first time, Gabriel thought he understood the guilt in his expression.
It loosened something in Gabriel’s chest, to know he wasn’t alone here, that someone could carry the guilt along with him.
Then Becca’s father said, “People will die. Everyone in this room. When the Guides find out—”
“They might already know,” said Gabriel.
When everyone turned to him, he said, “When the police questioned me, they asked me about the pentagrams in the burned houses.”
Hunter’s eyebrows went up. “Pentagrams? You never said you saw—”
“I didn’t.”
Bill turned to face Hunter, his expression fierce. “You told me you wanted to honor your father’s position. You told me you wanted to know what to do.”
Gabriel glanced at Hunter. His friend had never mentioned Becca’s father, had never mentioned any discussion following their meeting in the food court.
Bill continued. “You wanted to prove yourself—am I right? And I said watch Gabriel Merrick, and you—”
Hunter was out of his chair. “That’s exactly what I was doing!”
“What did you just say?” said Gabriel. A new feeling was coiling in his chest, something bitter and frightening.
But the room had fallen into a stricken silence.
Gabriel stared at Hunter. “That’s why you were following me that night.”
“Nice,” said Becca. She was glaring at Hunter, too. “So you misled everyone around you, huh?”
Hunter shook his head. “No, it’s not—it wasn’t—”
But Gabriel was already storming back down the hallway, heading for the front door.
Michael caught him, grabbing him by the arm and shoving him up against the door before he could open it. “You are not leaving.”
Gabriel struggled against him. “Let me go, goddamn it.”
“No.” Michael shook him, hard. “You’re not leaving. Do you understand me? I will tie you up if I have to.”
Gabriel stared into his brother’s eyes, seeing the same exhaustion and fury he knew were reflected in his own.
He wanted to fight, but he was just too tired.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go to my room.”
Michael let him go.
And Gabriel walked up the stairs.
Alone.
CHAPTER 38
Gabriel had thought people were talking about him when he couldn’t try out for basketball.
That had nothing on walking through school the Monday morning following an arrest.
People actually went silent when he passed. Kids he didn’t even know were staring at him.
“You want me to walk with you to first period?” said Nick.
“I’m not four,” said Gabriel. He slammed books into his locker, pulling out the ones he needed for morning classes.
Like it mattered. Like he’d be able to concentrate.