I didn't think he was asking me. And I was right.

"Whatever's going on, it seems to be connected to Ralph, too." This was Gabriel's observation.

"We need to rouse Stan," said Patsy. "C'mon. We need to get you both down to the lab."

"The lab?" I heard concern edge Ralph's voice. "What for?"

"Don't make me play the queen card, d.a.m.n it. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm hormonal."

Ralph picked me up, and I closed my eyes. "Welcome to Broken Heart," said Patrick. "Looks like you're walking evidence of the paranormal."

I glared down at him, not quite brave enough to tell him to shut up.

I don't remember pa.s.sing out, but I do remember waking up. I was lying on an examination table. I scrambled off so fast I ripped the waxy paper covering it.

Ralph sat in a chair next to the table, watching me. "You're safe."

"Yeah, right." I walked to the door and yanked on the handle. Locked. I turned around and glared at him. "What's going on?"

"The doctor is going to run some tests."

"Why?"

"Because we need to figure out why you went all Firestarter out there."

"You're not exactly fire-free, buddy." I rubbed my arms. I was cold. I didn't like it. I also didn't like the silence. There was no singing in here. No warmth.

"It feels like they turned on the air-conditioning."

"They did. Dragons don't like the cold, and if your new self is related to what the dragon did to you . . ." He trailed off, avoiding my gaze.

It seemed the air-conditioning had also managed to chill the odd attraction between us. Although he was still number one on my yummy-man list, I was grateful I didn't have the uncontrollable urge to jump his bones.

"Just relax," said Ralph. "I'm in here, too. We can be lab rats together."

"Oh, h.e.l.l no." Once again, I turned to the door and pounded on it. "Let me out! Let me out now!"

"Libby."

My name held soft reproach. I leaned my forehead against the white metal door. "I don't want to be a lab rat. What's this doctor's name? Frankenstein?"

I hated white, sterile rooms like this one. Other than the chair Ralph occupied, there was no other place to plant my b.u.t.t. I returned to the table and sat on its edge.

"Dr. Michaels is nice, and he's very smart. As a bonus, he's also human."

"We'll see about that," I said. I couldn't pinpoint any particular reason why I didn't like physicians or hospitals. I always got the creepy-crawlies. And I had them bad right now.

The door opened. A man entered. I had a nice view of his balding head since he was looking at a clipboard. He was short and paunchy and, overall, he reminded me of a sad-eyed beagle.

Then he lifted his head, his smile rea.s.suring.

I didn't think anything else could shock me.

I was wrong.

I nearly fell off the table. "Uncle Archie! I thought you were dead!"

Chapter 8

"Seraphina!" Archie's expression was a cross between happy and horrified. I felt the same way. I was thrilled he was still breathing and p.i.s.sed off he hadn't bothered to let me know. Or my parents. Or any of his coworkers at PRIS.

"Wait," said Ralph. He looked at Archie. "You're not Stan?" His gaze slanted to me. "And you're not Libby?"

"My first name is Archibald," said Archie. "I switched to my middle name when I started working for the Consortium."

"I've always hated my first name. I go by Libby now." I glanced at Ralph. His expression was thoughtful. I realized I was still wearing his shirt. Someone must've loaned him one. Too bad. Viewing him without a shirt was like indulging in an all-day truffle.

But I was not here to l.u.s.t after Ralph. That was just a perk.

I had bigger worries right now. The man who'd been like family to me had abandoned us. Why?

Almost ten years ago, when I was thirteen, we followed an anonymous tip to an isolated farm deep in the South Carolina woods.

We'd been told "night-walkers" inhabited the dilapidated building and that outsiders who ventured onto the property were attacked by savage wolves. Come to think of it, that whole situation reminded me of Broken Heart's setup.

My mother and I did a perimeter check at the tree line. Perimeter checks were how my parents kept me away from the action.

Anyway, Archie took his equipment around the barn and Dad went to the crumbling house.

The barn exploded. All we found of Archie were his gla.s.ses, one scorched shoe, and a melted EMF detector.

"What happened?" I asked. "We thought you died in the explosion."

"A vampire saved my life."

"No, really?" Hel-lo. I'd figured out he'd hooked up with the undead. I got it. Vampires were real. But I hadn't quite grasped that Archie had left behind his life on purpose. "Mom cried for weeks. She thought it was her fault."

"I'm sorry about that. I really am. Your mother is . . . well, your mother. I was tired of PRIS, Sera." He shook his head. "Libby.

Patrick O'Halloran pulled me out of the blaze."

I gaped at him. "You mean poof boy?"

Archie blinked.

"Yes," said Ralph, chuckling. "That's Patrick."

We both turned to Archie, waiting for his explanation.

"He offered me unlimited funds to carry out real research." Archie stared at his clipboard, his cheeks mottling. "Making a clean break was one of the conditions of my agreement with the Consortium. I regret I was unable to say proper good-byes, but you know how Dora is." He made wriggling motions with his fingers. "She's got that thing she does with her eyes. I never could lie to her."

"Yeah. Me, neither."

We contemplated each other in silence.

"Trust me, Libby. I know you're here under duress, but you won't come to harm. Now, tell me what happened," he said in his serious-doctor tone.

I shrugged. "Beats me. The Mod Squad was closing in around me, I got really upset, and everything went nuclear. Things started exploding." I hesitated. "And I think I can hear fire singing."

Ralph nodded. "I . . . uh, think I can hear that, too."

"Really?" I turned to him, feeling so relieved. If I was nuts, he was, too. Was that a good thing?

"That tops the weird-o-meter," said Archie, shaking his head. Ouch. In a town full of weird, being told I was the weirdest wasn't comforting. "So, it had something to do with the dragon kissing me?"

I explained the woman in the cemetery, how she'd grabbed me, kissed me, and set me on fire. And then I'd set Ralph on fire. And ta-da . . . I can hear flame musicals.

"I'd like to try something," said Archie. "Both of you turn around."

Ralph and I shared a look. We stood up and turned around. I was uncomfortable. What was Archie up to?

I heard the rustling of cloth and then a scritching sound.

"What do you hear?" asked Archie.

"I'll take 'what is the sound of silence' for three hundred, Alex," I said.

Ralph laughed.

"Seriously," said Archie, sounding annoyed. "What do you hear?"

"You. Babbling."

He sighed. Then I heard another scritching noise. A dulcet tone shimmied through me. I glanced at Ralph. He was already looking at me, his eyes dark. He took my hand and we turned, our gazes drawn to the lighter in Archie's hand. The flame was small, but its song was not. It was pure, cleansing, just like the fire.

"What are you two doing?"

I barely heard Archie's question. I reached for the lighter, but he pulled away. The fire went out.

"No!" Ralph pushed Archie against the door and I yanked the little plastic Bic out of his fingers. I flicked it on and the flame sprang to life, singing, singing.

Ralph dropped Archie, who landed with a thud. Then he joined me and, together, we listened to the song. For the first time, I heard words.

I looked at Ralph. "Is that . . . Def Leppard?"

"Yeah. It's 'Rock of Ages.'" He dipped his finger into the flame and it slid along his skin. When it hit his shirt, the material burned away. The flame danced on his wrist. So seductive. I leaned down and licked it.

The fire invaded my mouth. Ambrosia. I embraced Ralph. His eyes pinned mine. He was burning. So was I. The flames feasted on his shirt, not on his skin. He was a vampire whose fire danced and loved, but didn't char or destroy. It loved me, too.

His arms surrounded me, and so did his flames. We burned together. I sucked in the fire and it raced down my throat. I felt the soot coat my tongue.

"L-Libby?"

I looked down at Archie, barely registering his look of terror. Then I saw the smoke curling out of my nostrils.

What the h.e.l.l?

The door burst open and someone dressed in a silver hazmat suit pointed an extinguisher at me. White foam exploded from the nozzle and blanketed us.

The music was instantly silenced. "No!" I cried.

Archie and the fireman backed out. I didn't understand the look on Archie's face. Like he didn't know me.

The door shut and we heard the lock snick.

Ralph and I looked at each other.

"That was weird." He stepped back, wiping off his face and shaking the foam off his hands. Then he scrubbed at his hair.

"Yeah." I flipped the wheel on the Bic. Flick. Flick. "It won't work." Panic wormed through me. I thrust the lighter at Ralph. "Fix this."

"No, Libby." He held up his hands. "I don't want the fire. It's . . . wrong."

"Wrong? How could it be wrong?" Was he insane? I needed the flame. We needed it. "Please, Ralph." I was desperate to have fire again. I knew I was acting a little crazed, but I couldn't stop myself. Fire was life. Desperation made me flick the wheel over and over, but it never sparked.

"Libby. Stop." He plucked the useless lighter from my hand. I reached for it and he pushed my hand away. "d.a.m.n it! Enough, already."

I sucked in a breath. I was shaking. And cold. Had they kicked up the air-conditioning again? "What's wrong with me?" I whispered. "Why do I need it so much? And why can you resist?"

"Two reasons," he said. "Michael and Stephen."

I stared at him. "I don't understand."

"My sons," he said. "What I feel now . . . what I feel for you, it can't be more important than my sons. They're only three, and they need me. I need them. You . . . me . . . this fire thing . . ." He shook his head. "I can't do this. Feel this way. No more fire."