07 The Return_ Midnight - L. J. Smith

“Liar!” shrieked Inari, looking for a moment more glorious—more radiant than before.
But then Meredith saw why. Her scarlet hair had actually begun to smolder, framing her face in a
dancing red light. And at last she spoke venemously.
“Well, then, if you think this is my last battle, I must be sure to cause all the pain I can.
Starting with you, witch.”
Meredith and Matt both gasped. They were afraid for Theo, especially as Inari’s hair
was braiding itself into thick ropes like serpents that floated around her head as if she were Medusa.
The gasps were a mistake—they attracted Inari’s attention. But she didn’t move. She only
said, “Smell that sweet scent on the wind? A roast sacrifice! I think the result will be oishii—
delicious! But perhaps you two would like to speak to Orime or Isobel one last time. I’m afraid they
can’t come out to see you.”
Meredith’s heart was pounding violently in her throat, as she realized that the Saitous’
house was on fire. It seemed as if there were several small fires burning, but she was terrified at the
implication that Inari had already done something to the mother and daughter.
“No, Matt!” she cried, grabbing Matt’s arm. He would have charged straight at the
laughing black-clad woman and tried to attack her feet—and seconds were invaluable now. “Come
help me find them!”
Theo came to their aid. Drawing up the white bullwhip, she whirled it once around her
head and cracked it precisely on Inari’s raised hands, leaving a bloody gash on one. As a furious Inari
turned back to her, Meredith and Matt ran.
“The back door,” Matt said as they careered around the side of the house. Up ahead they
saw a wooden fence, but no gate. Meredith was just considering using the stave to pole-vault, when
Matt panted, “Here!” and made a cradle of his hands for her to step into. “I’ll boost you over!”
Meredith hesitated only an instant. Then, as he skidded to a stop she jumped to place one
foot in his inter-locked fingers. Suddenly she was flying upward. She made the most of it, landing,
catlike, on the fence’s flat top, and then jumping down. She could hear Matt scrambling up the fence
as she was suddenly surrounded by black smoke. She jumped backward three feet and yelled, “Matt,
the smoke is dangerous! Get low; hold your breath. Stay outside to help them when I bring them out!”
Meredith had no idea whether Matt would listen to her or not, but she obeyed her own
rules, crouching low, breath held, opening her eyes briefly to try to find the door.
Then she almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of an axe crashing into wood, of
wood splintering, and of the axe crashing again. She opened her eyes and saw that Matt hadn’t
listened to her, but she was glad because he’d found the door. His face was black with soot. “It was
locked,” he explained, hefting the axe.
Any optimism Meredith might have felt splintered like the door as she looked inside and
saw only flames and more flames.
My God, she thought, anyone in there is roasting, is probably dead already.
But where had that thought come from? Her knowledge or her fear? Meredith couldn’t
just stop now. She took a step into searing heat and shouted, “Isobel! Mrs. Saitou! Where are you?”
There was a weak, choking cry. “That’s the kitchen!” she said. “Matt, it’s Mrs. Saitou!
Please go get her!”
Matt obeyed, but threw over his shoulder, “Don’t you go farther in.”
Meredith had to go farther in. She remembered very well where Isobel’s room was.
Directly under her “grandmother’s.”
“Isobel! Isobel! Can you hear me?” Her voice was so low and husky from smoke that she