Arise (Book Three in The Arson Saga) by Estevan Vega Read Free Book Online

to melt the skin around Isaac’s neck. Arson should’ve closed his eyes, but he couldn’t. Isaac’s smile turned a distorted kind of sad as pink material dripped off his cheekbones. His clothing wilted to ashes, and Arson could see his beating heart, but as he blinked, the screams played a sorrowful chorus in his eardrums, like an orchestra building to an otherworldly crescendo. And with a blink, the horror was gone, but a whisper drifted into the air for one final refrain. “I set Grandma free.”
    “You hesitated.” Adam exhaled deeply, disappointed.
    “He’s gone. Isn’t that what matters?” Arson replied, the flames cowering back to the walls and corners.
    “No. He was going to kill you. How could you even think for a second that he was on your side? What if he’d gotten a little closer with that knife, huh? What if he decided to end this nightmare? You’d be dead.”
    “You don’t know that for sure!”
    “I know enough to be sure that death isn’t the best way out. It’s far too dangerous.”
    “Let it go. The arson in me took over anyway, and it killed him.”
    “I killed him!”
    Arson spun around.
    “When you hesitated, I sent those flames to do what you couldn’t. It’s that weakness in you that held you back. It’ll be your undoing.”
    “Don’t do that again.”
    Adam’s gaze challenged his. “What? Make the choice you can’t? Please. If I hadn’t acted, you’d be a bloody mess, and maybe the same goes for me. I’ve never been inside someone’s head when they bought the farm. You may not entirely care what happens to you in here, but I’m not ready to quit just yet. So pull your head out of the sand, and start thinking straight. Isaac’s not the only thing that’ll be looking for us.”
    Arson’s eyes wandered from Adam, the boy who looked so much like his childhood friend. A friend who had misled him.

Chapter Five
    The wiper blades cleared a significant amount of snow buildup from the windshield, but the weather was getting worse. Joel’s suggestion to take their family car would’ve been a good move, Aimee thought, but Redd insisted on using her car instead. She figured as much. The fact that Joel would cave with so little nudging, however, meant he respected the investigator’s opinion more than his wife’s, a bit confusing considering last night’s quasi-romantic episode. But she was determined, at least for now, to play along.
    In Redd’s defense, the vehicle was all-wheel drive and better in questionable weather. Plus, she was more familiar with this area than either of them was, and she’d been to the asylum before. Kyro didn’t buy into it, though. He’d offered to lead the way so long as he could ride shotgun, but Joel had just told him to sit in the back and keep any negative outbursts to himself. Since the request, Aimee had been counting the minutes, wondering how long the jittery kid could keep quiet. The momentary rejection from Joel clearly made riding backseat a hard pill for him to swallow.
    “How many times you been there, anyway?” he asked, rudely propping his knees up against the back of Redd’s seat. Kyro sat spine crunched, legs bent, feet dangling.
    “A few times doing field work on some cases,” she said. “Why?”
    “Curious. Can’t a guy be curious?”
    Redd turned to Joel, who sat beside her, and then glanced into the rearview. Aimee took note of the eye contact. “So, Kyro, what was a decent guy like you doing in Salvation Asylum? And so young too? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that a place like that was only for criminals or the mentally ill.”
    Kyro caught on. He read her like a midterm cheat sheet, seeing past the attempt to decrease his credibility and instill doubt and a sense of distrust. “I made some mistakes, Lil’ Redd. Ain’t nobody in this car a saint, and that’s the truth.”
    “It’s the past. No one’s pointing any fingers. You’re with us now.”
    It wasn’t that Aimee