After pausing briefly to reassure a concerned Corinne, we stepped outside into the chilly spring night. The thick scent of smoke was heavy in the still air. I sniffed. "Smells like burning rubber."

"It's Pop's place," Ice retorted, pointing over the treeline toward the town. A thick plume of oily black smoke could be seen rising above it, alive and malicious in the light of a waxing moon.

My body came alive with tension. "Shit! The gas pumps!"

"I know. Let's get moving."

We jumped into the truck, and Ice floored it, leaving me to hang on for dear life as we flew down the cracked and pitted street that connected our small neighborhood to the town itself. The stench of burning rubber became thicker and more cloying the closer we got, and as the truck came around the last bend, the sight of hungry flames licking upwards filled the windshield.

It seemed that almost half the town was already in attendance, with more arriving every minute. Several bucket brigades had already been formed, and men and women were busily spraying water from hoses attached to the businesses to the left and right of Pop's garage.

Thankfully, the fire appeared, for the moment, to be contained to the junkyard, which was perhaps fifty yards away from the islands that held the gas pumps.

"Promise me something, Ice," I said as we jumped from the truck and ran to join the helpers.

"What's that?"

"No running into burning buildings to save a litter of kittens, alright? I've already been through that once with you. I don't think I could bear going through it again."

Her teeth flashed in the light of the fire. "No promises, Angel, but I'll try my best."

She moved off into the line of fire, as it were, while I stepped up to Mary Lynch, who was directing the helpers to keep everyone organized and focused on their tasks. Mary pointed me in the direction of another rapidly forming bucket brigade and I gladly pitched in, grabbing and passing on each water-filled bucket that came my way.

As I became engrossed in the rather mindless work, I spared a moment to look around at the beehive of frantic, yet controlled, activity, feeling a surge of pride for a town which had, over the course of a year, become mine. There was no arguing or jostling or trying for glory. Everyone did their jobs without fuss or complaint, their entire focus on one goal and one goal only. To help out a friend in need.

After five years in jail, it felt good to be part of something like that.

Millicent, however, was conspicuous by her absence.

Turning my head, I looked at the darkened inn across the street, swearing that I could see a curtain flutter in one of the upper rooms. The anger which had left me hours before returned in full force. I'll bet my last dollar that bitch has something to do with this.

Still watching the Inn, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye and shifted my gaze downward toward the row of hedges which bordered her property. My eyes were past the point of burning tears from the smoke, but as I continued to watch, I saw again what had attracted my attention.

The bushes moved.

Then they moved again.

"Son of a bitch. Here, hold this." Blindly thrusting the bucket I was holding into the hands of the next person in line, I broke free from the bucket brigade and started off across the street.

Whoever was watching the fire obviously saw me and tried to bolt. The bushes moved violently again, and I broke into a sprint. "Oh no ya don't!"

Running as fast as I could, I launched myself in a flying tackle, managing to wrap my arms around the ankles of the person trying to flee, and bring us both hard to the unforgiving ground. Getting quickly to my knees, I rolled the person I'd tackled over and saw the snarling face of a young man-no more than a boy, really-hot-spots of adolescent acne clear on his face.

Gritting his teeth, he began to struggle, but I held him rather easily, straddling his heaving chest and placing my knees squarely on his biceps, effectively pinning him. "Get offa me!" he yelled in a high, cracked voice.

"Not until you tell me what you were doing in those bushes."

"What the hell do ya think, I was doin, lady? Jerkin off?? I was watchin the fire!" He renewed his struggle to escape, becoming more red-faced with the effort. "Come on, lady! Get offa me. I wasn't doin nothin wrong!"

"I think you're lying," I replied, staring down at him and adjusting to the frantic movements of his body beneath me. I inhaled deeply and tried not to choke on the smoke which filled the air. "You smell like gasoline. I think you started that fire."

"I didn't start nothin, bitch." Seeing his struggles were fruitless, he opted for staring sullenly at me. "Maybe you started it and are lookin' for someone ta blame."

I smiled coolly. "I think we both know that's not the truth." Then I tried another tactic. "If you didn't start the fire, maybe you saw who did? After all, you had a front row seat over there, didn't you?"

"I didn't see nothin." His face was closed, walled off. That expression wasn't exactly something I was unfamiliar with.

I sighed. "Fine." Then I moved off of him, coming to my feet and offering him a hand.

Swatting it away, he jumped to his own feet, smirking at me. "Bitch."

I allowed him to turn, and as he did so, I grabbed his wrist and wrenched it up high and hard behind his back. He came to his toes immediately, squeaking in pain. "What the fuck are ya doin?"

"You're a witness to a crime. You didn't think I was just gonna let you go, did you?"

"I told ya, bitch, I didn't see nothin!"

"Yeah, I know. You didn't see anything, you didn't hear anything, you didn't do anything. A regular Casper Milquetoast, you are."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just move."

And move we did, right back toward the still burning fire, with my reluctant captive struggling every step of the way. Though he was a good five inches taller and fifty or so pounds heavier than I was, I had little trouble marching him back the way we'd come. After all, it was I move I'd practiced on Ice more times than I cared to count, and if I could to it with her, I had no doubt that I could immobilize Mr. Universe if I had to.

For a second, anyway.

We passed the first line of helpers, most of whom gave us curious glances as we walked through the area of controlled chaos. They returned quickly to their tasks, though, and we moved forward pretty much unmolested.

When the smoke became too thick for breathing, I stopped, eyes darting around, trying to find my partner through the haze of oily smoke. Which was, of course, trying to find a needle in a mountain of haystacks.

"Ice!" I shouted, trying mightily to be heard over the din of the fire and the shouts of the helpers. When there was no answer, I tried again. "Ice!! I need to see you for a second, please!!"

After a long moment, the smoke seemed to coalesce and take on human form. Then my lover stepped through the fumes, her hair drenched with sweat, her face black with soot from which two icy sapphire chips sparkled, her clothes dirty and pasted to her body, and a large axe gripped surely in one hand.

If a Hollywood casting director had been there looking for someone to play a demon from hell, he would have hired her on the spot, no questions asked.

The young man standing in front of me stiffened, and I could feel his pulse-rate double beneath my hand. He renewed his efforts to break free, but I held him easily, watching as my partner approached, a no-nonsense look on what could be seen of her face. "What's going on?" she asked, still holding the axe, her voice harsh from the smoke she'd inhaled.

"I found my friend here hiding in the bushes across the street," I replied, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Pop, almost equally soot-covered and sweating, moved out of the smoke to join us. "He seems to have been affected with a sudden case of stupidity, so I figured I'd bring him over here and let you wise him up."

Reaching out with her free hand, Ice grabbed the young man by the front of his T-shirt and jerked him forward until their faces were scarcely an inch apart. I quickly let his arm go, fearing that the sudden pressure would tear it free from its socket.

"Did you start this fire?" Ice growled, the harshness of her voice only magnifying the malevolent effect.

Stepping to one side, I looked up, noticing that the surly youngster's eyes were now wide as saucers while his face paled to the color of curdled cream, unfortunate acne standing out in spots of high color on his cheeks, forehead and chin.

"Answer me!" Ice growled again, shaking him as a terrier might shake a chew toy.

I knew he was past the point of forming coherent words, and was just about to step in when Pop, apparently having the same idea, put a blackened hand on Ice's arm and stepped closer to the pair, peering up into the face of the unfortunate boy. "You're Duke Johnson's boy from up-country, ain't ya? I seen you around a few times when I've been up that way."

As if desperate to ingratiate himself to one who wasn't about to rip his head off and chop up what was left into tiny pieces, the boy nodded frantically, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he gulped past the pressure Ice was putting on his throat.

Pop nodded. "Thought so. What you doin so far from home, boy? Ain't you got school in the mornin?"

He nodded again, which, of course, didn't come close to answering either question.

"Ease up on him a little, Morgan. Boy looks like he's gonna pass out and piss himself all at the same time. Let's see what he's got ta say."

Ice relaxed her grip just slightly, allowing the boy to stand comfortably on both feet once again, but didn't release him entirely, in case he thought about doing something stupid. Like running, for instance.

The way she was staring at him, I thought breathing might be another example in the 'doing something stupid' department, unless she got the answers she was looking for.

Pop's eyes were compassionate. "Who put you up to this, boy? Just gimme a name, and you're free to go."

"I didn't do nothin!" Instead of surliness, the young man's tone had changed to one of petulance, with a dose of good, old fashioned fright thrown in for good measure.

"I know your father, boy. He's a good man. Don't think he's got it in him to raise stupid sons. Just tell me who set you up for this and he won't have ta visit you in the jail."

At the mention of jail, the boy's lip trembled slightly, but he remained stubbornly silent.

Pop took off his cap, slapping it against his thigh. "God damn it, boy! Don't you realize just what a shitpile you got yourself into? If I hadn't been nearby when you threw your damn cocktail in there, you wouldn't just be lookin at arson. You'd be lookin at murder, a dozen times over."

"What are you talkin about?"

"I was wrong. Your old man did manage ta raise a stupid kid. Can't you see how close you came to explodin my gas tanks?!? This whole town coulda gone up, and most of the people too! Yourself included, ya shit-fer-brains idiot!"

The boy's legs buckled at that, and the only thing that kept him on his feet was Ice's firm grip to his shirt. Pop brought his face up close, much as Ice had done the moment prior. "Who done this, boy. Who put you up to it. A name's all I need. You gimme that and you're free to go."

There was a long moment of silence, punctuated only by the shouts of the people still fighting the slowly diminishing fire. Then the boy looked up, his eyes bright with tears I knew weren't caused by the smoke. "I didn't do nothin. I didn't see nothin. I told ya that already. Can I please go home now?"

Pop sighed, then placed his cap back on his head. "Let 'im go, Morgan." He nodded at her look to him. "It's alright. Let 'im go. I think he's learned his lesson for the night. Ain't that right, boy."

The boy nodded, then turned to leave as Ice released her grip on his shirt. Pop stopped him with one hand on his arm. "One more thing, son. If, when yer walkin home, yer good sense does return to ya, I'd suggest going up to the coward who put ya up to this and tellin' him next time not ta send a boy to do a man's work. Tell him next time he wants ta fight, do it himself. Got that?"

"Yeah. I got it."

"Good. Now get yer ass outta here before I change my mind and let my big friend with the axe here chop ya up fer firewood."

As if shot from a cannon, he took off, not pausing even once to look back, and disappeared quickly into the woods, leaving only the stench of his fear behind.

Snorting in disgust, Ice hefted her axe and, without a word to either of us, went back to fighting the fire.

"Why'd you let him go like that?" I asked Pop, disbelief plain in the tone of my voice.

"Wasn't worth the hassle of keepin' him around, Angel. He's just a little fish in an even littler pond."

"Yeah, but that little fish almost destroyed this entire town."

"And he knows it, too." He turned to me, his eyes wise even beyond their advanced years. "He had the fear o' God scared into him tonight, Angel. Somethin' a whole lifetime in prison wouldn't do. And when he comes ta realize just how close he came ta endin' it all, he'll go right up to the idiot that set him up and give him my message. Killin two birds with one stone, and all that."

"Screw the two birds, Pop. You know who set him up as much as I do," I replied, gritting my teeth in anger.

His eyes went wide for a second, then narrowed. "So, ya heard about that, huh?"

"Yeah. I heard. And I'm not gonna let her get away with it."

"Don't go doin' nothin rash, Tyler. Don't wanna go visitin you in the pen any more than I wanted ta put that boy in there."

"Oh, I'm not planning on doing anything rash. Unless you count ripping her fat little head off and shoving it up her ass as being rash."

He laughed. "Morgan's rubbin off on ya, I see."

"No. I come by this naturally, Pop." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm mad as hell at that witch for what she's doing to you. Why do I seem to be the only one?"

He smiled, the tender expression at odds with the definite blaze of anger in his eyes. "You're not the only one, sweetheart, though I gotta say you win the prize for originality."

"Then why don't you do something about her? Why just let her get off scot free? Does someone have to die before justice is served here?"

"Naw. No one's gonna die, Tyler. She'll get what's comin' to her alright. We all just gotta wait a little." His eyes glittered. "Ya know what they say about revenge, right?"

I sighed. "Yeah. It likes to be refrigerated."

He grinned. "Somethin like that, yeah." Then he threw a companionable arm around my shoulders. "C'mon, then. Let's get back to fightin this fire before Morgan there gets all the glory fer puttin it out single-handed, eh?"

Sighing again for effect, I caved in to his gentle entreaty. There wasn't much else I could do about it, after all. But as I walked back toward the fire, I entertained myself with visions of my fingers wrapping around Millicent's bejeweled and fleshy neck as her beady brown eyes popped out like a couple of over-ripe grapes.

Oh yes, revenge might be a dish best served cold, but even the best ice cream in the world didn't have so sweet a taste.

Dawn began to lighten the sky to the east when the last of the fire was finally laid to rest. Only those overcome by the heat and smoke had left. The rest stayed and fought side by side until finally the battle was won.

Beyond exhausted, I gratefully dropped the last water-filled bucket to the ground at my feet, wiping sweaty, blistered and raw hands uselessly against an equally sweaty, not to mention black with soot, shirt. I took in a deep breath before realizing my mistake, then almost collapsed when spasms of coughing shook my already weakened body. Spots flashed before my eyes and I fought to regain my breathing before I passed out on the muddy ground.

Feeling a cool hand to the back of my sweat-sticky neck, I looked up into the concerned eyes of Corinne. Coughing a few more times, then gratefully feeling my lungs begin to accept the gift of fresh air, I slowly straightened, every muscle in my body tight and aching. Smiling, she handed me a tall glass which was filled to the brim with her special sweet tea that I adored.

I held the glass up to my brow for a moment, relishing the chill against my flesh. Then I gulped down the entire offering, almost moaning in pleasure as it hit my belly and cooled me instantly. "You're a goddess, Corinne. Thanks."

Rescuing the glass from my hand, she poured another tall drink from her thermos and handed it back to me. "Think nothing of it, Angel. Drink up, now. You're about to fall right over."