Broken Bonds

by Jade Alters

  “Oh, my God, that was terrifying and amazing all at once,” she declares, staring up at the sky as she sits in the snow. “Am I dead? Is this all some weird frozen brain hallucination or something? This can’t be real.”

  “It’s real,” I assure her before I shift back. There’s a lot I can do in phoenix form but unfortunately opening the door to the facility isn’t one of them. She lets out a startled cry and instinctively jerks back away from me. I’d normally be insulted that my human form received this kind of reaction, but she’s been through a lot today, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “Oh, sorry,” she murmurs when she realizes what she’s done.

  I shrug and move to pick her up in my arms. “It’s fine. Let’s get you inside and get that leg looked at…”

  “Hold on,” she shrieks, jerking away from me again.

  I frown and narrow my eyes at her. “What is it?”

  She stares up at me and I can see a million emotions rushing through her eyes, even through the lens of her goggles.

  “I just…sorry,” she says again. “It’s just…I’m not sure what to think right now. This is…it’s a lot to take in…”

  I nod. “I get that, but can we talk about this inside? After going to all that trouble to rescue you, I’d hate for you to freeze outside the front door.”

  She glances between me and the door and then slowly nods. “Y…yes. Okay. You’re right.”

  I bend down and slip my arms around her before picking her up. The urge to cradle her tight to my chest hits me like a face-slap, but I force myself to remain clinical and refrained as I walk to the door and carry her over the threshold. She doesn’t say a word to me as I make my way through the facility toward the small medical room adjacent from the dorm area. Once inside, I set her on the metal exam table and begin helping her strip out of her snowsuit. I’m careful not to make skin-to-skin contact, but thankfully the bond is more concerned about me caring for and protecting her than mating with her right now.

  When the snowsuit is a pile on the floor, I reach for her pant-leg, ready to assess the damage.

  “Stop,” she suddenly snaps, her tone agitated.

  I glance up and meet her wild gaze. “What’s the matter?”

  She opens and closes her mouth as she struggles to come up with a response, and she reminds me of a gasping fish.

  “I…I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room first,” she insists.

  I straighten from where I was bending over her leg and cross my arms over my chest.

  “You mean the fact that I’m a phoenix?”

  Her eyes go round, as if she’s surprised by my candidness.

  “Umm…well, yes,” she said, somewhat bashfully. Then, more forcefully, “That seems like something that I’d have picked up on living so freaking close to you.”

  I shrug. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ve gotten really good over the years at hiding myself from humans.”

  Samantha furrowed her brow. “When you say years…?”

  “I mean centuries,” I answer, picking up on her question even as she trails off.

  “Holy shit,” she gasped, and I think I might have just blown her mind again.

  I finally manage to get her to stop babbling long enough to remove her pants so I can look back down at her prosthetic and inspect it carefully. It doesn’t take me long to spot a large crack compromising the knee joint. I point to it.

  “I’m guessing that’s the problem?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yep. Can’t put any weight on it. That’s why I couldn’t stand up in the ravine.”

  “I see,” I say. “Unfortunately, I’m not certain how to repair this. A broken leg I can handle, but…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Samantha tells me with a sigh. “I have another one that I brought just in case something like this happened.”

  “Very prepared, aren’t you?” I tease.

  That earns me a full grin at last. “Just like a Boy Scout. My leg is in my room…would you mind…?”

  “Of course,” I quickly say. I sidle up next to her and offer her my shoulder. She slings her arm around me and I help her get off the table. When I offer to carry her, she declines and instead puts her weight into me and I help her hobble out of the infirmary and toward the dorms. When we reach her room, I assist her to her bed and set her down. She directs me to the small closet in the corner and I find a long black case inside that I pull out. I take it to her and set it next to her on the mattress.

  I stand back and watch as she opens the case and pulls out another prosthetic. It’s not as elaborate looking as her other one. It’s almost like a spare tire – smaller and only meant for temporary use. She removes her broken prosthetic and carefully sets it next to the case. Then, she takes her spare leg and begins to attach it to the hardware implanted into her thigh.

  Her eyes suddenly narrow and her jaw tightens. “Okay, you’ve had your turn, now it’s mine. You need to tell me more about this whole phoenix thing. You haven’t answered hardly any of my questions and I believe I’ve been more than patient.”

  I release a slow breath. Dang. I’d hoped that I’d be able to avoid this conversation for just a little while longer. Just until I could sort through exactly what I can and cannot tell her. I know I can’t tell her about the mating bond, of the fact that we are bonded ourselves. She wouldn’t trust anything I had to say if she found out that we were linked like that by some invisible force that neither of us can control.

  I need to give her something, though. I know what it is I can’t say to her, but now I have to figure out what exactly I can say.

  “Alright,” I sigh. “What do you want to know?”

  She appears contemplative for a moment, as if sorting through all the questions she has.

  At length, she asks, “How is it that you’ve been alive for so long?”

  I’m a little surprised that that’s her first question, but I suppose it’s one I can answer without fear of any real consequence.

  “Phoenixes have regenerative abilities, just like the myths say,” I explain. “They keep my body from aging or decaying with old age. We’re not exactly immortal but close.”

  Her brows shoot up. “Wow. That’s…amazing.”

  I manage not to scowl. “It’s not as amazing as you think it is. A bit overrated, truthfully.”

  She studies me for several long moments before asking her next question.

  “Are you lonely?”

  I stiffen, my cheeks heating with embarrassment at how quickly she’s able to pinpoint my greatest vulnerability, but I’m not about to let her know that.

  I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You get used to it.”

  From the way she’s studying me, I know she doesn’t believe me.

  “What else?” I quickly ask, deciding it’s best to push her away from this topic.

  She blinks. “Oh, well, I guess I have a few more questions…”

  We spend the next hour going back and forth with her bouncing questions at me and me doing my best to answer them without giving away too many of my kinds’ secrets. It’s not that I don’t trust Samantha, necessarily, but I’m so used to guarding this part of myself from humans that it feels unnatural to be revealing anything to her.

  At length, the toll of the day seems to finally set in on her. Her eyelids begin to droop and flutter as she fights to stay awake, and her questions star to trail off into large yawns.

  “Samantha, I think you should rest,” I tell her. “We can continue this conversation later.”

  For a moment, I think she might protest, but to my relief, she slowly nods.

  “You might be right…I am feeling really tired all of the sudden. It might be best for me to get some sleep.”

  I try not to let my relief seem too obvious, but I have to admit, I’m pretty drained from all her questions, as well as the craziness of the day.

  Giving her a nod, I say, “Alright, I’ll leave you alone for now. If you nee
d anything, though, just call. I’ll stay close.”

  The smile she gives me is so tender it makes my heart ache.

  “Thank you, Dr. Pyrrhos. For everything. Saving me, and…and opening up to me.”

  I hesitate before softly replying, “Call me Aleixo.”

  Before she can say another word, I turn and hurry out the door.

  Samantha

  A few days pass before I venture back out of my room. The morning after my rescue from a frozen death in the middle of the snow, I woke up and everything that I’d learned about Dr. Pyrrhos…or, rather, Aleixo crashed over me like a tidal wave. I freaked out all over again, except this time, I didn’t have the numbness of the cold and shock to tamp down my emotions. It really hit me that Aleixo is a phoenix. A phoenix!

  I’ve spent so much time studying phoenix mythology, convinced that there had to be some truth to it. Now, I have undeniable proof that the thing I’ve been hoping is real for so long actually exists…and I have no idea how to respond to my new reality. How am I supposed to act around Aleixo now? I’m at a total loss, especially when I think about everything he must have experienced throughout his long life already.

  It makes me feel rather insignificant in comparison.

  So, like a coward, I stayed hidden in my room while I worked through everything I was feeling and thinking. It’s a lot, admittedly, and I really struggled to consider everything calmly and rationally at first.

  That first day of my self-inflicted confinement, Aleixo came to my door to ask how I was doing. I told him I just needed some time by myself, and I apologized, though I didn’t mention how nervous he made me now. I’m sure he could hear it in my tone, however, because he left pretty much immediately after that with hardly another word. Then to my complete surprise, a few hours later there was a soft knock on my door and when I peeked out to see what he was up to. Aleixo was nowhere to be seen, but there was a tray on the floor with food.

  A grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup.

  If I hadn’t been so overwhelmed by everything, I would have tracked him down right then and there and thanked him. I wasn’t ready to talk to him yet, though, so I took the tray inside my room and ate the food. It was warm and tasty, and went a long way to soothe the worst of my ravaged nerves. I placed the tray back out in the hall afterwards, and it wasn’t lost on me that we’d suddenly switched roles. I was the one hiding away and avoiding contact, and he was the one attempting to coax me back out.

  It was just so hard. I’m not sure I can really describe how I was feeling during those few days. Confused and anxious for sure, but I was also coming to terms with the fact that the world was not the place I’d always assumed it was. Creatures of myth were real and walking among us. I wondered how many more there were like Aleixo just meandering out in society, hiding their true selves and forms so that us hapless humans remained none-the-wiser.

  These are the kinds of thoughts that raced through my head hour after hour as I stay locked away from Aleixo. For his part, he kept bringing me food, as well as my laptop and the camera I’d had with me that I’d left behind in the ravine. He doesn’t try to get me to talk to him or force me out of my room. It’s as if he’s intentionally giving me time to process everything, being patient and considerate in a way I hadn’t expected.

  It isn’t until four days after my accident that I finally emerge from my room. I feel like a bear coming out of hibernation as I poke my head out the door and gaze up and down the hallway. There’s no sign of Aleixo, but it’s nearly dinner time I think, so maybe he’s in the kitchen. I step over my threshold and start making my way in that direction, but I hesitate once I’m out of the dorm area.

  I’m still nervous to see him. To talk to him. I’ve had time to think about what this could potentially mean for my work, and I want to ask him about regeneration and explore all the possibilities to tapping into that power for medical use. The problem, though, is that I don’t know how to bring the subject up without it seeming as though I view him as some sort of subject to be studied, like the Antarctic hoatzin. Whether technically human or not, he’s still a person, and I don’t want him to feel as though I’m trying to commodify his abilities.

  But there’s so much good that could potentially come from his powers, or whatever it is you want to call them. There are so many people who could be helped by them. So many people who could be made whole again.

  My own leg tingles, the shadow pains seeming to mock me as they remind me of what was once there. Is it possible I could get my leg back with Aleixo’s help? I’m almost too afraid to even hope that. It would be such a crushing disappointment if I couldn’t at least try.

  I need to talk to him about it. I need to at least try to convince him of all the possibilities that could come from him helping me with my research. Lifting my chin, I square my shoulders, determined to plead my case and continue on toward the kitchen.

  The smell of the food he’s making teases my nostrils before I reach the doorway to the room. Whatever he’s cooking smells savory and my mouth begins to water a little bit. Stepping into the kitchen, I find him standing over the small stove. There are a few pots simmering in front of him, and he’s stirring them at once with both hands.

  He must hear me approach, because he suddenly glances over his shoulder and raises his brows in surprise.

  “Oh, hey! I didn’t expect to see you out and about. I was going to bring you dinner. Are you hungry?”

  I slowly nod. “Yeah, I am…it smells good. What is it?”

  “Stir-fry and rice,” he answers as he turns back to the stove. “I’m really not much of a cook, but I can throw things together now and then.”

  He’s being humble. Everything he’s made me has been delicious.

  His friendly demeanor is throwing me off a bit. He’s acting like nothing odd has been happening between us. That I haven’t been basically hiding from him for the past four days. It’s a little weird, because now I’m not sure if I should bring it up or not myself.

  “Um…need any help?” I ask lamely.

  “I’m good,” he assures me. “Go ahead and have a seat.”

  I slump toward the table and settle into one of the chairs. This feels painfully awkward. Is he angry at me? I wouldn’t blame him in the least, but it doesn’t seem like he is. He seems genuinely okay right now.

  There are a million things I want to say to him in that moment, but none of them feel appropriate anymore. I feel like even bringing up the fact that he’s a phoenix would only make the situation tense. I also don’t think I should be the one to broach the topic of our situation first, seeing as I’ve been the one stubbornly on lock down.

  Silence settles between us as he continues cooking. I drum my fingers nervously on the table. When he finally brings the food over to the table, my leg is also jittering. He settles across from me and begins to scoop a serving of the meal onto my plate.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, eyes downcast.

  “You’re welcome,” he replies, filling his own plate. He sets the pots away and then I feel him staring at me. “Are you okay?”

  I glance up at him. “Oh…yes! Sorry. I’m fine.”

  He arches a brow. “Fine is a word that’s used when things are exactly the opposite of fine. I know you’ve been through a lot, and have needed some time, but…do you want to talk about anything?”

  Now’s my chance. He’s giving me an opening. This is the opportunity to ask him to help me with my research. I open my mouth, the words on the tip of my tongue…but I can’t get them out. I don’t know why, but I just can’t seem to ask what I want to ask.

  I panic a moment as I realize I’m just staring at him with a dumbfounded look on my face.

  At last, I manage to sputter, “I…I’m sorry that I’ve been freaking out, if that’s the right way to put it. It’s just been…a lot, you know?”

  He nods. “Yeah, I understand. I know everything that’s happened must be overwhelming, and I want to help you come to terms with
it all as best I can.”

  “Have you…have you ever told your secret to another human?” It’s kind of a random question, and I’m not sure where it came from, but I’m genuinely curious about this. If other people know or have known about him, about phoenixes, how have they reacted? For some reason, I don’t really like the idea of other people knowing about him. There’s a part of me that likes the idea that I might be the only person who knows what he really is…but I’m not willing to dive into why that is right at the moment.

  Aleixo appears thoughtful for a moment and at length says, “I have, but they’re long dead by now.”

  That startles me a bit. I haven’t really thought all that much about his longevity versus a human’s. I suppose there are a lot of humans he’s known throughout his life that aren’t alive anymore. And…I’ll be among their number, one day, won’t I?

  What a terribly depressing thought.

  “How did they react to the revelation?” I ask in a softer voice.

  To my surprise, he chuckles. “Well, a few reacted very similarly to you. A few revered me as some mystical being or god…but those were in my earliest years of life. Worship was less and less often a response to finding out what I am.”

  I blink. Dear Lord, here I was thinking he was hundreds of years old…but could he be thousands?

  Shoving that particular thought away, I pose another question. “Are there others like you?”

  His expression grows somewhat guarded. “Well, yes…but I haven’t interacted with any others since I arrived here.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He shrugs. “We phoenixes don’t have the same need to be constantly in touch with each other like you humans seem to have. Our long lives make a handful of years seem like nothing in comparison.”

  “I see,” I murmur, though I can’t really understand. There’s silence once more, and I try to force out the questions I want to ask him a second time. However, I still can’t seem to get them past my lips. What the heck? “When was the last time a human learned what you were?”