Crimson Veil

Chapter 4

Come dawn, I slept without dreaming—a blessing considering who I was and the baggage I carried. By the time I woke up, at sunset, Nerissa had long been up and was almost done with her day. Our opposite sleep schedules interfered with our lives at times, but we made it work. We had from sundown till late night together, and on weekends, she’d stay up late with me—till two or three in the morning. Weres didn’t need as much sleep as FBHs, so she was good with a few hours.

Last night, after I’d cried myself out, we’d watched an old movie—Mildred Pierce—and then she’d snuggled down to sleep while I spent the rest of the night reading. The house was quiet during the late-night hours, and I relished my time to myself. I was in the middle of a biography of Rasputin, and the reading was slow and dense, but interesting.

Come sunrise, I’d curled up next to my wife and fallen asleep. We were safe enough in the same bed as long as she was awake and out of reach by the first moments I woke at night.

As I took a quick shower, then slipped into jeans and a turtleneck, I heard the phone ring upstairs. Even through the steel door, my hearing was so sensitive that I could hear the doorbell, the phone, loud conversations. There was a flurry of words that I couldn’t quite make out. The steel door we’d installed muffled sound better than the old wooden one. But by that time, I was at the top of the stairs and could hear Camille. She sounded surprised. I sauntered out into the kitchen to find her staring at the phone in her hand, her head cocked to the side.

“You look puzzled.”

“Yeah, well, that was cousin Daniel.” She turned around, the quizzical look still present. “He wants to get together for dinner. He basically invited himself over tomorrow night.”

That was a shocker. First, the very fact that our blood cousins actually wanted to hang out surprised me. Second, I’d expected to hear from Hester Lou first. She had dropped us an e-mail after she left the restaurant the other night to reassure us that she was thrilled we’d met and that she wanted to pursue a familial relationship. That fact that she had a wife, too, had created an instant bond between us. But Daniel? He’d seemed standoffish and taciturn, and not at all the sort who would suddenly go all touchy-feely over us.

“Well, then. I suppose we should all be here.” I raised one eyebrow.

“I know—odd, isn’t it?” Camille moved to the counter, where she poured herself a cup of risha-berry tea. “I guess we’ll just have to wait to see what he wants, but I have the feeling that he’s got something up his sleeve. I know the man is hiding something, though I don’t get any negative feelings off of him.”

“That’s good, at least.”

“I have something to tell you—” Camille started to say, but the phone rang again, interrupting her.

I was closest to it so I picked up. “Hello?”

“Menolly? Chase here.” He sounded harried.

I glanced at the clock. Five P.M. “I take it you’re still at work?”

“Yeah, love working Saturdays, you know. Anyway, we have problems.”

The words we so did not enjoy hearing. “What’s up and what do you need us to do?” I said it half-jokingly, but he didn’t banter back.

Instead, his voice was low and solemn. “I’m serious. We have a situation here and we need you girls. Seriously, come now and bring all the reinforcements you can. We… this is bad.”

Fuck. More words that I didn’t want to hear. “Our backup is depleted. I think Smoky, Roz, and Trillian went back to Otherworld—” Here, I glanced at Camille, who nodded. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. What’s shaking, and where do we meet you?”

“The Utopia Club. It’s burning, and we have people trapped inside.”

“Motherfucking son of a bitch! Shikra—did Shikra make it out?” The realization that she might be so much dust right now hit home and I flashed back to Chrysandra, lying blackened on the hospital bed. With vampires, though, there would be no slow death. Fire was one of the few things that could actually destroy us, and we burned bright and crisp and clear, wisping into a handful of ashes in seconds.

“She’s safe, yes. But the club was torched. That much we are fairly sure of, and the firemen seem to be making headway with the flames. But there’s something else going on in that fire. Shikra told Yugi that there was some spiritual activity going on there this evening—it started in the afternoon while she was still asleep. But her Supe bouncers and a couple of cleaning ladies had several nasty experiences. I’m wondering… is there such a thing as an arsonist ghost?”

He ran out of steam, his words stopping like a train that had suddenly put on the brakes. Chase didn’t usually talk that fast, and I realized he was nervous.

“We’ll be there ASAP. You want me to call Iris and tell her you’re probably going to be late tonight?”

The sound of relief swept through his voice. “Thanks. Tell her to give Astrid a kiss for me, would you?” He sounded lonely, and I realized just how devoted a father he was going to be.

“Will do. Now hang up, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.” As I replaced the receiver, I whirled around. “The Utopia is burning. And signs of ghostly activity have been seen there this afternoon. That doesn’t mean there’s a connection, but we can’t know that till we’re actually there. Who do we have on hand?”

Camille had paled, her skin a stark white next to the black of her corset. “Delilah and Shade are upstairs—she took your Jag to Jason’s. He checked it out and said that for now, it will run okay. He’s swamped so bring it in next week. It’s out in the yard, but why don’t you ride with us? Vanzir is out in the studio with Father’s body, and Shamas is still at work. Morio’s in town and Nerissa isn’t home yet.”

“We’re down, bad. We can’t leave the house unguarded. Vanzir has to stay here. Even with Hanna to watch after Maggie, we can’t chance Iris being alone at her house. Bruce is still at work, too.” I didn’t like this. For a while it felt as if we had too many people in the house, and now we didn’t have enough.

“I have an idea. I don’t like it but I’m willing to deal with him.” Camille sneered slightly and I knew immediately who she was talking about.

“You’ll be willing to work with Bran?”

“I don’t think I have a choice, do I?” She headed toward the kitchen door. “You get Delilah and Shade, and tell Vanzir to watch the house with Hanna. I’ll go get… Bran.” And she was out the door, not even stopping to grab a jacket.

I dashed up the stairs. Camille detested Bran. He was the son of the Black Unicorn and Raven Mother, and my sister had taken an instant dislike to the man. Neither Elemental Lord—greater or lesser—nor truly Fae, Bran stood between worlds, much like the Elder Fae. It didn’t help that Camille had killed his father, even though it had been her destiny and the Black Unicorn’s choosing. Even after the Black Unicorn was reborn, it seemed that Bran nurtured a grudge. Or maybe it was something else.

I’d caught him staring at Camille more than once over the past few days, and the look on his face unsettled me. If Smoky had been here to notice the look, he would have backhanded the man into the Ionyc Seas. It wasn’t desire—not fully—but a desire to possess and tear down. And I was pretty sure Camille knew about it, though she kept her mouth shut.

She walked on slippery ground with Bran. He was leader of the Earthside Fae militia now, and he was the son of Immortals. You didn’t mess with beings of that magnitude, not if you wanted to live.

Shade and Delilah were in Kitten’s playroom, where her kitty condo and bed and toys were. A sofa stretched under a window so she could curl up on the back when we had the rare sunbeams creeping through the windows. Now, she was racing around like a maniac, all four paws skidding across the polished floor. Shade was curled up in a recliner, reading, trying to ignore Delilah’s taunting him. I stood at the door for a moment, watching as she raced by and leaped in the air, grabbing the toe of his boot, swinging on it before dropping back to the floor and taking off in the opposite direction.

Wishing I could let them be and not intrude, I cleared my throat.

Shade looked up, and at my expression, he barked out a stiff, “Delilah. We need you.”

She swiveled to look at me, and for a moment, a fleeting look of resignation passed through her eyes, but then, she padded over to the sofa, and a moment later, a shimmer in the air proceeded her transformation. Within another minute, she was standing in front of me, dressed in her pajamas.

“I’m afraid you need to get dressed, stat. Chase called. There’s an emergency.” I turned to go, then paused. “Don’t wear anything too flammable. The Utopia’s on fire, and while they’re putting out the flames now, I have a feeling we’re going to be sifting through the ruins looking for ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Her face fell. “What the fuck are ghosts doing in a vampire club?”

“I don’t know. That’s what we’re going to find out. But there were reports of heavy magical activity there this afternoon. So get a move on, Kitten, and meet us downstairs.” I turned to leave, but Shade moved to my side, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. He was so quick that I didn’t even see the blur. Dragons—especially shadow dragons—were good at that.

“Are you girls able to focus tonight, given what has happened?” He gazed down at me, his rugged jaw set firmly in a faint smile. A craggy scar marred one side of his face, but it only gave him a tougher, darker look, a dark line against the glowing coffee of his skin.

I held his gaze. “Why ask me? Why not ask Delilah? I’m the one who…” But I couldn’t finish it. I couldn’t finish the sentence. My throat seized up and the words would not come.

“Because Delilah and Camille, they grieve openly. You hide your sorrow, you hide your pain like the wounded animal you once were. I know you open up around Nerissa, but your sisters need to know that Sephreh’s death was more than a blip in the road to you. If you don’t show them this side of yourself, Menolly, you’ll drive them away. Perhaps not now, perhaps not tomorrow, but in the near future, when the shock has worn away, they’ll look at you and only see the tough exterior that hides the loss you feel.”

My first reaction was that I wanted to hit him, to smack him back. The words How dare you say this to me? formed on my lips, but I left them unsaid. Because truth was, if I said anything at all, the sorrow I’d cried out last night would return. And right now, I couldn’t afford to feel the pain.

“Yeah, well… right now I’m afraid I don’t have that luxury. But Shade…” I paused, not sure of how much to say.

“Feel free. Tell me off, tell me what you think of my advice. I can take it.” His eyes flashed and only a deep warmth, a dark compassion, rested there.

I worried my lip for a moment. “I know you mean well. But right now, there’s no time for this. I won’t ignore what you said, though. That’s the best I can promise for now.”

With a nod, he moved back. Delilah entered the room then, pulling her sweater over her head. She glanced at him, then at me, then at Shade again.

“Something going on I should know about? A spat?” The look in her eyes was darker than I’d seen before, not jealous but… cautious.

Wondering where that was coming from, I shook my head. “Not at all. Shade was just expressing concern over my bar. And I thanked him but reassured him, I have things under control.” I held his gaze a moment longer, challenging him to contradict me. But he just turned away to grab his brown leather calf-length duster, and then followed me out the door, Delilah on his heels.

Downstairs, Camille was waiting, Bran by her side. Neither looked happy about it, but they were there, Bran with his usual smirk that made me want to rub his face into the ground.

“We’re ready?” was all she said.

I nodded. “Let’s head out. You talked to Vanzir?”

“He’s keeping watch here with Hanna. And I called Morio. He’ll meet us at the Utopia Club.” She swept out the door. “Bran, you can ride with Delilah and Shade—”

“I prefer to ride with you.” His voice was soft, but firm, and I could tell there was no room for disagreement.

Camille rankled, but said nothing, merely headed toward her car. I followed, deciding to give my Jag a rest, and to hopefully prevent bloodshed.

“I’m going with you. I don’t want to chance the Jag.” I pushed past Bran. “I call shotgun.”

Camille gave me a grateful look. Bran let out an exasperated laugh, but there was no humor behind it. He shrugged and climbed into the back of the Lexus. As I slid into the passenger seat, I glanced over my shoulder at him and gave him a wicked, fang-filled grin. Let him chew on that one for a while.

We took off, followed by Delilah and Shade in her Jeep. I wanted to talk to Camille, strategize a bit, but Bran’s presence put an unnatural strain on both of us and I found myself picking up her suspicion of the guy. He was gorgeous—pale as alabaster with long dark hair that he kept pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were shimmering pools that beckoned with a welcome that promised both passion and fear. He was built, but not rippling in the muscle department.

But the qualities that struck me the most were (a) his brilliant lips—he looked almost as though he were wearing lipstick, but it was a product of his breeding, and (b) the man oozed magnetism. Whether it was good or not, I wouldn’t lay odds, but magnetism it was, stronger by far than any Fae glamour I’d ever been around.

As I watched him through the rearview mirror, I began to notice his fixation on Camille. He watched her intently, like a bird watching a shiny object. But it wasn’t a leer. He didn’t feel particularly lecherous, though I did sense a deep and vibrant passion below the surface that was probably better left untapped, given the circumstances. No, this was more… need. As if he was trying to quench his thirst by looking at her.

We were used to men going nuts over her boobs and curves—that was par for the course and it didn’t bother her, nor did it bother Delilah or me. But this was something different and it gave me the creeps. I wondered if she’d noticed it, or if it had escaped her attention. But ten to one, this was what unsettled her around him and caused the sparks.

I decided to do a little prying. “So, Bran, are you engaged? Do you have a girl back home in Darkynwyrd?”

The look Camille shot me was priceless and I tried not to laugh. She gripped the steering wheel and I had the feeling I’d be in for it once we were alone, but for now, I wanted to see what kind of reaction I’d get.

Apparently, Bran didn’t find the question engaging. He gave me a cool look. “No.”

The clip of his words made me snarly. I was already a little wired from my discussion with Shade, but at least he meant well and wanted the best for us. Bran here was another matter. I was beginning to adopt Camille’s dislike of the man.

“How about a guy?” Let’s just see the fur fly on that one, I thought.

Bran leaned forward as far as the seat belt would allow. “I’m not into vampires, thank you for asking.” I sputtered as he gave me a blasé look. “I assume you are interested, unless you have some other reason for being so nosy.” Once again, the arrogant sneer punctuated his words.

I restrained myself from bolting over the seat.

Camille wasn’t quite so diplomatic. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” She flashed him a snide smile through the rearview mirror, but kept her eyes on the road. “But since we’re stuck with each other for now, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and we’ll keep out of your business. Menolly—no more questions.”

Bran snorted. “You girls take the cake. My mother was right—barbaric and mannerless. Humans are pathetic, and you windwalkers are just as bad. What she wants with you escapes me. Why she would offer you a place in our wood—again, I have no clue.”

I winced. The term windwalker was derogatory, all right, and meant half-breed back in Y’Elestrial. It certainly had never been used as a compliment. I forced a comment back down my throat and, shaking with anger, turned back around in my seat.

Camille kept her hands on the wheel, but her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her at first. “You are staying in our house, eating our food. You’re a guest of the Queen of Shadow and Night. I suggest you fucking keep to your manners because, dude, one more step over the line and I’ll call Smoky home and ask him to beat your butt right back to Mama’s doorstep.”

I was still watching him through the rearview mirror, and so I saw the quiver of fear that ran over his face. So the little ass was afraid of something—big bad dragons made him nervous.

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, and it wasn’t long until we pulled into the parking lot of the Utopia. The building was still on fire but most of the flames were quenched. Smoldering holes in the walls let the smoke billow out, and the scene through the windows was one of chaos and destruction. But it didn’t look anywhere near as damaged as the Wayfarer had been. Somebody had caught the fire in time to prevent it from totaling the place.

Camille slammed out of the car, ignoring Bran, who slowly emerged behind her. I followed her, and as we strode across the parking lot, Shade and Delilah pulled up, hopping out and running over to join us.

Delilah glanced at me and mouthed, “Everybody still alive after that ride?”

I nodded. “Barely.”

We found Chase near the entrance. He was talking to the fire marshal, a man we’d seen all too often as of late. As we approached, they finished up their talk. The marshal turned and, nodding to us, returned to his unit and began going over some sort of strategy with his men.

I glanced at the building. “So… what’s the whole story?”

“I’m thinking ghosts. At least, that’s what the maid told Shikra. Whatever happened, apparently things were moving around by themselves and a whirling misty form was seen. But it’s hard to know for certain until we investigate. Who knows what we’re dealing with?” He rubbed his chin. “This is arson, Menolly. And considering what happened to your bar… I’m thinking we have a serial arsonist on the loose.”

I pressed my lips together. I knew we had a serial arsonist running loose, but I didn’t know how much Shikra had actually told him. And I didn’t want to spill any secrets she might have kept secret, like the letter. But I had the feeling I was going to have to, if only to keep other businesses on high alert.

Chase stared at me for a moment. “You know something.”

“What could I possibly know?” I gave him a fangy grin.

“Yeah, right. Tell me another one. Okay, we’ll play it your way.”

“Just for now, Chase. We’ll talk soon.”

“So if you and your sisters could suss out the building when they’ve—” He stopped as the fire marshal approached.

He gave me a confused look, but then turned to Chase. “It’s out, for all intents and purposes. They’re just taking care of some of the embers. We got here in time to prevent any major structural damage, I think. Most of it’s cosmetic. Will cost a bit to repair, but it’s not like…” Pausing, he glanced at me.

I decided to save him the trouble. No use pussyfooting around, and it wasn’t like I didn’t know all too well what had gone down at my own bar. “The Utopia isn’t fully destroyed, like my bar was.”

“Right, ma’am. As to what caused the flames, well, we discovered something in one of the back rooms. Cloths still soaked in accelerant. The flames hadn’t reached them yet. If they had, this whole building would have gone up like a bomb. Pretty clear this was arson. I’m now thinking that’s what happened to the Wayfarer, only we didn’t find the cloths because they burned up. I’ll send someone over to your building, see if we can find traces of whatever this substance is.”

Ten to one, they wouldn’t. Because if Lowestar was behind this, he was smart enough to cover his butt. There was no way they were going to find the firebug who set this mess. Or mine either.

But all I said was, “Call in a tech from the FH-CSI, Chase. That may not be of Earthside design.” I turned to the fire marshal. “So is it safe for us to go in and have a look around? I know it’s still hot, but no roof going to collapse, or anything like that?”

He sighed. “Johnson, you think we need their input now?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Chase gave him a dark look. “I don’t think we’re dealing with a simple arsonist. First, I’m convinced he’s serial. Second… trust my judgment on this.”

As the fire marshal shrugged and turned away, he said over his shoulder, “Fine. Go in at your own risk. Try to avoid the hot spots that are still smoking. Don’t make my men come rescue you.” Sounding tired, he walked away.

“He’s in a good mood.” I stared at his retreating back.

“He’s seen too many fires where somebody didn’t make it out alive, Menolly. He’s seen children burned to a crisp because their mothers were smoking in bed and fell asleep. He’s seen his men devoured by the flames when they went in to rescue someone who had sparked the fire by a home-based Z-fen lab. He’s seen houses go up like matchsticks thanks to the hoarders who refused to get help… too many deaths, too much destruction. Don’t blame him for being weary. He’s seen too much over the years. And I’ve been there, seen it all with him.”

I glanced up at the detective. His jaw was set, and his dark eyes were glimmering. A year ago, he’d been given the Nectar of Life in order to save his ass, and it had—but it had given him a thousand years to look forward to, and to fill. And it had sparked off the latent powers that we’d faintly sensed before. Turned out, he had elf in his background—far distant elf.

A thought struck me. “Are you worried about Tristan? The elf who started your bloodline?” Tristan lived in Elqaneve. No one had thought how this might affect Chase.

He caught my gaze, and for a moment, those wary shields dropped and I could see the naked concern on his face. “Yes, of course. I have hoped, ever since that visit, to find a time when we could sit and truly talk. He knows my heritage, my lineage, and perhaps can explain some of the things that have happened to me since I was first given the Nectar of Life.”

“I sense a but…”

“But… my concern, my heart… is somewhere within that makeshift hiding place they’re calling a palace, with the mother of my child. The woman I love.”

I face-palmed. Of course, he was worried about Sharah. “I’m so stupid. Forgive me.”

He shook his head. “Nothing to forgive. Too much going on. But, I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to Sharah. And yet—and yet—she’s now the Queen. They separated us, and I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to see Astrid or me again. They took her from me, Menolly. They stole her away, and while I understand why I had to let her go, that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

There was nothing I could say. So instead, I reached up on my tiptoes and did something I almost never did. I kissed him on the cheek, and stroked his hair.

“You keep hope, Chase. You keep that hope alive. My sisters—they kept the hope that I’d come out of my rage and fury the entire year I was being rehabilitated after Dredge got to me. They never gave up hope. I know this in my heart. You keep up hope for Sharah.”

He blushed. “But… even if the war ends. She’s Queen now. I can’t move to Otherworld, can I? You told me once, I’d pale and fade there. And now that she’s Queen, she can’t very well abdicate the throne.”

“Shush. Worry about that when it comes. For now, just know she loves you and misses you. And focus on giving Astrid all the love and joy she needs from both her mother and father. Okay?”

I wasn’t going to take the lame route, I wasn’t going to mouth platitudes like everything will be fine and it will all work out . . . but I could give him something to hold on to. And that something was his daughter. “Astrid needs you to be strong. She needs you to love her and give her hope that she’ll be with her mother again. Right?”

Chase regarded me solemnly. “You’re right. I have to focus on what I can do right now. Otherwise this will break me. It will interfere with me being the father Astrid needs, and it will interfere with my job.”

“Good then. Keep that thought. You know Iris will do all she can to help you—and we all will. Now, let me go get Camille and Delilah and we’ll see what we can find in the Utopia.” As I turned away, Chase lightly put his hand on my arm.

“Menolly?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful. Just… don’t get hurt in there. If there are ghosts…”

“If there are ghosts, we’ll go in there and kick their fucking asses to hell and back.” I winked at him, then strode over to where Camille and Delilah were watching the bustle as the firemen began to stow their gear.

Shade was standing nearby, keeping an eye on the general scene, and Bran was leaning against a lamppost, keeping an eye on Camille. Wonderful. He was going all stalker boy. When Smoky got back, we’d have to have the dragon take the Fae boy out back for a good ass-whipping.

“You guys ready? We’re going in.” I filled them in on what Chase and the fire marshal had told us. “Be careful. Camille, how are your shoes?” I glanced down at her feet. My sister had a predilection for stilettos and she’d often worn them fighting, but after a few days ago, in the race to escape from the fall of Elqaneve, she’d sworn off them for when we knew we were headed into a dangerous situation. Tonight, she’d put on her kitten-heel granny boots, and I saw that she was also dressed in her catsuit.

She noticed my appraisal. “Less chance of catching on fire without filmy skirts hanging near the floor.” With a grin, she curtseyed, the jingling of her silver belt a light tinkle against the incessant rain that was pouring down around us.

I snorted. “Let’s rock then.”

“Before you go in, put these on.” Yugi instructed several of the men to hand us hardhats equipped with built-in lights. They would not only protect our heads, but help us see. Roz had bought some of the same type of lights for us sometime back, but they were somewhere at home.

“Thanks, we left our gear at home.”

“Just don’t take any chances,” the Swedish empath said. He’d been working with Chase since the inception of the FH-CSI, and as second in command, he took his job seriously. Yugi had helped us out more than once.

As we headed into the building, I automatically scanned the ceiling, looking for loose timbers, tiles, anything that might dent somebody’s head. The hats would help put a stop to that, but we couldn’t be too careful.

I went first, given that I was the least likely to be hurt. Shade followed after me, then Camille, Delilah, and lastly, Bran.

As I stepped through the broken-in door, the acrid stench of smoke and soot hung heavy in the air, and behind me, Camille and Delilah started coughing. The roof was still standing, yes, and the walls, but the inside of the club had been gutted to the point of being unrecognizable. The beautiful, vibrant décor was now clogged with soot and smoke and water, forming muddy streams along the floor, streaking the walls, and saturating what little furniture remaining that hadn’t been destroyed. Most of the upholstered furnishings were gone, and the tables were charred and crisped. The booths were a disaster, and the bar had exploded as the liquor—there for sale to the FBHs and Supes who came along with the vamps—had gone up, one miniature fireball after another.

I stopped, flashing back to the Wayfarer. While I was grateful that the Utopia hadn’t suffered quite the same fate—especially with the loss of life—a little part of me wondered why it had to be my bar that had burned to the ground.

Camille let out a soft murmur. “It’s… there’s something in here with us. I can feel it and I’m not even trying.”

“She’s right,” Bran said, startling me. His voice was smooth, yet guttural, and it echoed through the shell of a room.

“What do you sense?” I hoped we could be forearmed. I was tired of being taken by surprise. But before they could say a word, a movement caught my eye and I turned. Out from the walls, and I do mean out from the walls—stepping directly through the solid drywall as if it were mere illusion—came five figures. They were bipedal, female by the look of their breasts, and they were composed of living flame. Burning brightly, with tongues of flames crackling off them, they looked like some CGI animated creatures, orange and yellow and all shades comprising fire.

As we stood there, staring at them, they moved toward us. Then one raised her hand, and a ball of fire lit up the air as she sent the orb heading in our direction.

“Holy fuck!” Camille yelled as she dove to the right. De-lilah dropped to the floor. I wasn’t sure what Bran and Shade were up to because, before I realized what I was doing, I raced forward toward the woman, and the next thing I knew, I had knocked her to the ground, trying to get hold of her.

Her skin burned my fingers, and I realized she truly was living flame. And that was when it dawned on me that I was in serious trouble. I tried to scramble away, but she caught hold of my wrist, and as my skin began to ignite, I realized I was about to die the final death.