Bahula looked at her hands in confusion. They didn’t look any different to her. No sign of smoke or flame marked her deep brown skin.

Charlotte grabbed her by the upper arm. “Come on, let’s go firestarter. We don’t want to be around when the cops get here.”

“But I-”

“Save it.” The tall blond started to drag her away from the spreading fire.

“But we need to-”

Charlotte’s full armed slap caught her off guard.

Bahula rubbed her smarting cheek with one hand. “Fine.”

That was enough permission for Charlotte to hurry her to the car. Charlotte slid into the driver seat and the car thrummed to life. Bahula stopped outside the passenger door, her hands instinctively cradling her stomach. There was so much going on, too much activity, too much she didn’t understand. Her stomach flexed, doubling her over. Vomit exploded out of her.

“Gross.” Charlotte’s voice drifted out the window she had opened. “Are you done?”

Bahula braced herself against the car and held up one finger. “Almost.”

“Once you’re done, get in.”