Page 26 of Inextricably Tied

Harbinger’s helmet.

He turns back to the broken windows, searching for a hole — and finds one, shattered glass twice the size of Harbinger’s head with flames dancing behind it.

It’s the only choice he has. Flint’s skin hardens to a stone shell, tail slamming through the glass, wood screeching as he splits the window frame to fit inside.

Smoke blocks all the light in the room. Flint can’t see in front of him, hardened skin already heating as the flames whip at his body.

“Harbinger!” His throat is hoarse and crowded with ash, but he can’t stop. Can’t leave without her. Can’t let anything happen to her.

A beam cracks in the ceiling, raining sparks down around him. Hysteria constricts the little room left in his throat. He presses deeper into the house, searching for any sign of her.

He can’t lose her. He can’t lose her.

“Flint!”

A gloved hand grabs onto his. He pulls Harbinger to his chest, lifting her off the floor and cradling her against him. The way he came is impossible to find, no sign of the outside world through the wall of fire. Thick plumes of smoke billow through the doorway. Harbinger buries her face against him, fingers curling over his pounding heart.

“Flint…”

Despair thrums through his veins. The stone casing of his body heats too quickly. Before much longer, it’ll melt her suit to her skin. There’s no way out. Except…

His eyes lift to the ceiling, covered in flames and smoke too thick to see through. There’s no telling how the roof is constructed. If there’s an attic. If the fire has spread there as well.

But they have no other option.

Flint shifts his wings out of stone, hissing when flames waste no time burning through the thin membranes. He kicks off the ground, clutching Harbinger tight, ducking his head to ram through the ceiling. Splintered wood scrapes down the line of his wings until it pierces him. He bites back a groan, gripping claws into the beams around him, but he doesn’t stop.

Flight is impossible with the stony weight of his body, but finally, there’s nothing but sky above them, tainted and diluted with smoke. The base of Flint’s wings groan in protest. One begins to tear, pain shooting through him as he encloses Harbinger in his arms and plummets toward the yard.

Their crash drags a ditch through the grass as Flint’s back skids along the ground. He coughs up soot, throat burning and sore when Harbinger presses up on shaking arms. Her singed gloves cup his face as he shifts out of his armor.

Both their chests heave, faces streaked with ash as her eyes search his. “I’m ok,” Flint wheezes. She collapses on his chest, clutching his neck until both their breathing evens. He’s tempted to stay like that, swallowing gulps of fresh air with Harbinger safe on his chest, but a voice cuts through his peace.

“How heroic.”

Agony’s presence strips away the last bit of comfort Flint has. An ache seeps through his wings, making him wince until he cranes his head enough to see the damage. Harbinger hisses.

“Oh, Flint…”

“I’m fine.” But as he says it, he knows it isn’t wholly true. His wing isn’t lifting right, a parachute with slashes cut through it. Harbinger’s hands drift over him.

“And your legs…”

In the distance, sirens draw closer. Agony lifts his eyes toward the highway. “Great fun, you two. Straight out of an action movie. I’m gonna take my leave.”

Even in Flint’s wounded state, he’s too fast for Agony, whipping out a hand to jerk Agony’s ankle and send him sprawling across the ground. Agony struggles to get back to his feet, but Flint’s grip doesn’t budge.

Harbinger climbs off of Flint’s chest, and he manages to get to his knees with a sharp inhale. “Let’s go.”

“We need to take you to the hospital.”

Grimacing as he rises, Flint lifts Agony with a hand on the back of his neck. “No.” Blisters form on his feet, wings angled oddly behind him as he limps toward the car. For once, Agony doesn’t try to dart away. It takes a moment for Flint to realize he’s putting some of his weight on Agony — and Agony’s taking it.

When Flint shifts all his weight to his own feet, pain rushes immediately back.

Harbinger grips her ribs in the same place Flint’s body is throbbing. “Flint, we can’t heal this without —”

“I’m not leaving you alone. Not with him.” His chin jerks toward Agony. “And I’m not sticking around to deal with an investigation. If we check into the hospital, the OID will hear about it, and I don’t want to deal with them.”