This shouldn’t have happened. Landon knew it was useless to entertain such thoughts now, with the raging fire devouring everything in front of him, but he couldn’t help it. He and Brent and Andrew were latched onto the firehose and spraying down the burning building.

An old, badly marked gas main. That’s what they had told him. An old gas main, sitting like an undiscovered fossil, ready to rear back into horrifying life as soon as the sparks from a backhoe hitting the pipe ignited it.

At least the subsequent explosion had been relatively contained to this one building, but it was a hell of a mistake on the part of the surveyors.

“Hold up!" he called suddenly. The two other men manning the hose glanced at him, but they followed his orders from long practice, shutting down the nozzle just as a couple of crew members came out of the bottom floor herding a group of staggering, soot-stained civilians. Landon saw the moment one of the women collapsed. His heart lurched ahead of his body.

“Hold the hose!" he shouted to the others. As soon as he was certain they had the weight of it firmly fixed between them, he disengaged and ran for the crumpled figure.

“Civilian down!" one of the squad members he passed was yelling, but Landon was already on it. He dropped to one knee beside the woman’s unconscious body; a wall of heat hit him, stinging his eyes, and he yanked his mask down quickly over his face to avoid inhaling the smoke. He grasped the woman and pulled her up over his shoulders, rose, expertly balancing her weight, and swiveled to sprint for the triage area.

Alex was there. Among the assembled nurses, she shone like a beacon, a blonde avenging angel, sword drawn against the consuming fire. By turns, she was divvying out orders, taking her patients' vitals, administering oxygen, and wiping grime from desperately furrowed faces. She looked up only when he approached—as if sensing his incoming presence without eyes.

Even with the mask on, she recognized him. “Landon! Here! Bring her here to me!"

No time to be distracted. He slid the woman off his shoulders, moving gingerly, and deposited her on the first available bed. The paramedics swarmed her, and one motioned unnecessarily for Alex to join them. As he pushed his mask up, he saw Alex snap on a new pair of gloves as she raced over, and before he could draw a breath of the smoky air, her hands were already in place, checking the woman for a pulse and breathing arrhythmia.

With the fire behind him and the woman he loved in front of him, Landon felt stuck between two worlds, unable to make a decision as to where he belonged. He watched Alex for a split second longer than he could afford.

Then he turned to go back to the fire.

"My daughter," a voice croaked. A hand reached for him and grasped the sleeve of his jacket. It was the newly retrieved woman, fighting for consciousness, her hands fluttering to grasp at the first patch of reflective yellow they could find. “My daughter . . . upstairs!"

Landon's stomach clenched. He was already wheeling, already reaching for his mask, but before he could bring the shield down, his eyes locked with Alex's.

He stopped. For a moment, he was tethered to her, unable to run, unable to fly to where he was needed most . . . because her eyes said it all. He had battled with fear all his life, but never had he seen it so plainly written in a human expression. He wondered if he had ever known another's fear, really known it, before he’d stared into Alex's face at this moment.

“I have to go," he whispered.

“I know you do," she said. “I know." But now her hand had replaced the woman’s on his sleeve, gripping convulsively, and Landon didn’t think he could pull himself away if he tried. If she didn’t release him, he might stay by her side forever . . . and the woman’s daughter—

They both looked toward the building in the same instant as a high-pitched scream slashed through the air.

In an upper window, a little girl stood silhouetted against a column of smoke. Even from a distance, Landon could see the hysterical tears tracking down her face. Her screaming coalesced into a single word: "Mommy!"

His radio was already in his hand. “I need backup!" he shouted. The hand holding his radio dropped as he turned to find any available fireman in the panicked crowd. “I need backup!" he screamed again.

“Landon!" Alex‘s hands clenched on his sleeve. Her icy blue eyes narrowed in focused determination. “I know what we need. I know how to get her down. Get a space blanket."

Landon stared at her. It took only a split second more, but it felt like an eternity as he calibrated what she was saying. Then he yanked her to him in an embrace, pulled her in tight against his chest, his hand locked in the tangle of her hair. When he sucked in a breath, they breathed together as one.

“Go." Alex released him. And he went.