Flight of the Phoenix

by Alicia Michaels

Another tear fell from her eye, and she sobbed, reaching up to cup his face. This was it. The moment she had been hoping for ... waiting for ... praying for.

  “All this time,” she cried. “All this time, I thought you were comparing me to her, and finding me to be lacking. I thought that I could never have a place in your family.”

  Reaching up, he swiped her tears away with the tips of his fingers. “Is that why you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder? Because you were guarding your heart from me?”

  Nodding, she sniffled and fought not to release anymore tears. “Yes. I think it is the Phoenix inside of me that feels things so viscerally. Day by day I fought to keep you from seeing my pain, because I couldn’t bear for you to reject me. I stayed when you asked me because I couldn’t bear to be without you ... but each day felt like torment, because I thought I could never have you the way I truly wanted.”

  He took her waist in his hands—so large he nearly spanned her ribs. She was suddenly aware of his size and strength, in a way that sent heat surging through her veins and caused her heart to pound.

  “But you can,” he murmured, lowering his head until his forehead touched hers. “You can, because from the moment I first saw you ignite into flames and discover the strength of your power, I knew the truth.”

  She smiled, another sob escaping from her chest. “You love me?”

  He grinned back, tightening his arms around her. “I love you, Des. I love the girl you were when I found you, and the woman you’ve become. I love the princess, I love the queen ... I love the Phoenix. I love everything you have been, and everything you are.”

  With a cry of joy, she leapt up into his arms and pressed her lips to his. He caught her up, stumbling back a bit, but keeping his footing as he accepted her kiss and responded with urgency.

  Oh, how she’d been longing to kiss him—lay awake so many nights dreaming of how it might be. She’d imagined it so many ways, yet none of them lived up to this.

  She’d never kissed a male before, having been closeted away from the world in Semran Hall her entire life, yet none of her girlish fantasies could compare to this.

  Malachi kissed her with a raw hunger that gave truth to his words. He truly had been holding himself back from her all this time, despite wanting this moment for as long as she had.

  He nibbled at her lips with growing insistence, seeming to wait until she became accustomed to kissing before going faster, harder. She sighed against his mouth, parting her lips for his invading tongue. The taste of him flooded her senses—primal, male, and slightly sweet. His hands at her back held her tight, molding her chest to his as he seemed to devour her, claiming her lips over and over, turning his head to achieve different angles, nibbling and biting, then soothing with his tongue.

  When he’d finished, Desdemona felt as if she could reach up and touch the stars. Her tears had dried, and now the joy of the moment left her breathless.

  Wrapping her legs around his waist, she held on tight so he wouldn’t put her down. “Stay, Malachi. Don’t leave me alone. You asked me how I felt, and the truth is ... I’ve never felt lonelier in my life. Everyone is looking to me to lead them, and tell them what to do. The people here are servants and councilors, soldiers and bodyguards. Not one is part of my family, or a close friend. I am going mad without someone to be myself around. My true self.”

  Smiling, he kissed her again, holding her tight as he spun her in circles. She laughed, holding tight to his neck and tilting her head back—closing her eyes and inhaling the cold winter night air. Never had a night been more beautiful.

  “Never, Des,” he told her once he’d stopped. “I will never leave your side. You can be whoever you want to be with me. You know that.”

  She did know that, realizing that she’d understood it the entire time. Her hurt over the past had blinded it to her, but the truth stood right in front of her. Malachi had always been the only person who understood the complexities of her nature. He knew how to soothe the enraged Phoenix without hindering her power. He knew how to encourage the scared girl, without coddling the woman. He knew her in a way no one else did.

  “I’m afraid,” she confessed as he set her back on her feet. “I’ve never been more afraid. Every decision I make has the potential to ruin Mollac, and make things worse. The people are counting on me to save them, and I cannot let them down.”

  Taking her face in his hands, he stroked her cheeks with this thumbs. “You won’t. Stop doubting yourself. For a time, you were weak and sheltered. But, you broke free, and now you are vibrant and strong, intelligent and courageous. The people will see these things in you, and they will follow you because of them. They will come to love you almost as much as I do.”

  “Almost?” she teased with a laugh.

  “No one can love you more than me,” he declared.

  Taking both his hands in hers, she stared up into his eyes. “Thank you, Malachi ... for helping me discover who I really am. For always protecting me. For loving me even though I know I can be difficult to love.”

  “I am the one who owes you gratitude,” he countered. “You are the one who saved me. And now, together, we will save the people of our homeland.”

  Leaning forward and resting her head on his chest, she closed her eyes and smiled. “I could not ask for better.”

  Chapter Seven

  PHAEDRA TIPPED HER head back and stared at the tall building looming over them. At her left stood Rothatin and En’im, and to her right, Gretchen, Arrian, and Titus. While she could not see them, she knew that several other Warrior Fae circled overhead on the backs of their massive birds of prey. Rothatin had assured them that they weren’t going into this place without backup. Selena, who had suffered Braxton-Hicks contractions after her last skirmish with Eranna and the Dark Fae, had been left behind. She’d complained about being treated like a child, but Titus wasn’t having it. Phaedra would be surprised if the poor girl would ever see action in battle again.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” Gretchen quipped. “I’d think she’d choose something more castle-y.”

  Rothatin’s expression did not change, but Phaedra had known him long enough that she could tell when he was tickled. Gretchen seemed to be one of the only people who could amuse the Fae general these days.

  “I can assure you we are in the right place,” he confirmed. “She settled into the penthouse of this building when she first arrived on Earth, then promptly cleared the entire building for the use of her Witches and Dark Fae.”

  “Do you think she’s stupid enough to keep the girl she kidnapped here?” Phaedra asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “There is only one way to find out,” he replied with a shrug. “If nothing else, this mission could secure the Eye of Mollac. Look out for each other in there, and keep your eyes open for prisoners or the Eye. We are here to recover the girl if she’s here, and the mirror. Taking Eranna out is not a priority until the girl is secure.”

  Titus growled in obvious disapproval, but a withering glare from Rothatin shut him up. Having been personally victimized by Eranna, Titus would be the most likely to make a play against the queen on a recovery mission.

  Charlotte Adams, age seventeen, had been missing now for twenty-four hours. Phaedra didn’t know if Eranna had already done away with the girl, but knew Rothatin was right not to assume. If the girl could be rescued and returned to her family, then a showdown with Eranna could wait.

  “Stay near me,” Arrian murmured to Gretchen. “Your lightning combined with my water will make a powerful weapon.”

  Phaedra turned her attention back to the double glass doors in front of her, trying to push down the feeling of envy welling up in her throat. It wasn’t that she thought Arrian was interested in Gretchen. The two had become friends, and she was glad, as Gretchen had once had a tough time fitting in. Now, among her own people, she didn’t have to be so isolated.

  The problem was that Arrian and Phaedra had always fought so well together. It was usuall
y her he turned to and spoke with about combining forces. But, she couldn’t exactly be mad at the guy for doing exactly what she’d told him to do. He was letting her go.

  This is what you wanted, she reminded herself.

  If that were the case, why did she feel as if someone had just stabbed her in the gut?

  “Let’s go,” Rothatin commanded, starting toward the doors.

  His silver, double-edged spear appeared in his hand with a flick of his wrist. He gave it a twirl as he reached out his free hand and caused the doors to part without touching them. The gurgle of water met her ears as they entered the building, and Phaedra turned toward the sound to find an indoor waterfall built into the wall of the lobby.

  “Convenient,” she murmured, reaching out her hands and pulling on the water.

  It came to her like a magnet, swirling around her in the air in languid circles, waiting for her command. Next to her, the pop and crackle of lightning sounded as Gretchen produced electricity between her fingers. Arrian pulled from his own water source—a water cooler resting through an open door of what appeared to be an office. Despite the place having the appearance of any other apartment in the city, the lobby remained empty and an eerie silence had settled over the entire first floor. No receptionist. No doorman. No security guards.

  The stillness was disturbed only by the ripple of water, snap of lightning, and the crackle of Titus’ bones as he shifted from his two-legged form to his four-legged one. His enchanted garments simply disappeared beneath his fur, as opposed to tearing to shreds.

  “They’re going to try to overwhelm us with numbers,” Rothatin warned as they ignored the gleaming, golden elevator doors in favor of the door leading to a stairwell. “Do not waste your energy trying to take them out. Fight them off, keep moving, get to the mirror and the girl.”

  “I can see why she chose this place,” Phaedra muttered as they left the lobby behind. “Tacky gold and crystal crap everywhere ... it’s definitely her taste.”

  “She would be all the way at the top,” Gretchen huffed as they began trotting up the stairwell with Rothatin leading the way and Titus bringing up the rear.

  Phaedra had just opened her mouth to reply when the sound of a grunt warned her that Rothatin had made contact. The clash of metal against metal came next, and as they reached one of the landings between floors, they were rushed on either side by a horde of Witches. One of them had attempted to take Rothatin’s head off with a sharp, iron blade. He fought her off as the others converged on them from both sides.

  She turned back to help Titus fight them off from the rear, swirling her water around her and whipping it into a roaring wave, then sending it crashing toward the dozen or so Witches running up the stairs toward them. She smirked in satisfaction as they were thrown back, pushed down an entire flight of the stairs, and landing in a tangle of arms and legs. Titus lunged for one who had avoided the wave, ending her life with a quick snap of his jaw around her throat. Crouching beside the body, Titus retrieved something from the Witch’s belt. Turning back to her, he thrust it toward her hand with his snout and made a sound in the back of his throat.

  Accepting the cloth pouch, she opened it to find six of the round orbs the Witches and Sorcerers used as weapons.

  Enchanted bombs.

  “Score,” she murmured, reaching down to pet Titus’ head. “Nice job.”

  Ahead of them, Arrian and Gretchen worked together to stun the rest of the Witches with a combination of water and lightning. The stairwell fell silent again as Rothatin and En’im continued to lead them up, leaping over the fallen bodies.

  “Keep moving,” En’im said over her shoulder, her long strides easily keeping pace with Rothatin’s.

  They’d barely made it up two floors before another door flew open, revealing four of the Dark Fae. They crashed through brandishing their silver weapons, catching Rothatin and En’im by surprise first.

  Rothatin roared in anger and pain as the curved blade of a silver dagger sliced into his bicep, but he recovered quickly. Swinging his spear in a swift arc, he decapitated the Dark Fae that had assaulted him, kicking the head away from the body to keep it from reattaching. En’im reacted faster than Phaedra would have thought possible, lifting two twin daggers and plunging them into the eyes of the second Dark Fae, who had followed close on the heels of the first. They made quick work of the next two, tearing them apart with their blades within less than minute.

  No one had to be told to keep moving as En’in slammed the door the Dark Fae had come through, and they continued ascending as one.

  Reaching the tenth floor, Phaedra distinctly heard footsteps coming toward them from behind the closed door. With the others moving on ahead of her, she paused, peering through the small, square window. The sight of at least twenty Witches barreling down the corridor toward them tore a gasp from her throat.

  She retrieved one of the golden orbs from the pouch Titus had given her and pressed a small circle on its side, hoping she had activated it correctly. Cracking the door swiftly, she tossed the bomb through the opening and slammed it, throwing her body weight against it.

  “Titus, help!” she called out, knowing her slender frame wouldn’t be enough to hold it closed.

  The collision of the Witches’ bodies against the door rattled the door in the frame, as well as her teeth, but Titus turned back just in time, slamming his oversized wolf’s body against it and adding to her weight. Gritting her teeth, she pushed with all her might, as they attempted to throw the door open, the sounds of their snarls reaching out at her through the heavy panel.

  Seconds later, the entire stairwell shook as the explosion sounded, causing the weight against the door to abate. Breathing a sigh of relief, Phaedra sagged against it. Peering through the little window over her shoulder, she found nothing left of the Witches but ashes.

  “Hey, guys, wait up!” she called out, moving away from the door and dashing up the steps with Titus on her heels.

  Above her, about three floors up, Gretchen and Arrian worked against another group of Dark Fae who had suddenly appeared, separating them from Rothatin and En’im. Arrian had surrounded them in a gigantic orb of water, lifting them from the ground until they floated. With a flick of her wrist, Gretchen sent a jolt of lightning through the water, electrocuting them all at once. Arrian took the water back under his control, turning and hurling the Dark Fae down the stairs behind them before pulling the water back around to him.

  “Save your strength for the penthouse,” Phaedra said, offering her pouch to them. “Anything comes through these doors, just toss a bomb and keep moving.”

  Arrian took two, while Gretchen took one, leaving Phaedra with the remaining two. They continued up as a unit and found Rothatin and En’im on the fifteenth floor. Having been attacked by another swarm of Witches, they stood in the midst of the corridor, silver blades flashing as they fought back-to-back to ward them off.

  “Rothatin, catch!” Arrian called out, tossing one of the golden bombs through the air down the hall.

  Plucking the little sphere out of the air, Rothatin pressed its button before hurling it into the fray.

  “Close the door!” he bellowed, taking En’im into his arms.

  Arrian obeyed the command just before the Witches could make it back out to the stairwell, and Titus helped him hold it closed. Seconds later, Rothatin and En’im appeared, having teleported from the hallway. Just as they materialized beside Phaedra, the bomb in the hallway went off, signaling the end of that threat.

  They continued up in a tight formation, using the rest of the bombs to ward off attacks from all sides. By the time they reached the penthouse, they had used all the bombs, but gotten through unscathed.

  Finally reaching the top of the building, which housed the three-floor penthouse, they burst through the stairwell door, and found themselves confronted with the elevator on one side, and the double carved wooden doors leading into the apartment in front of them.

  Without preamble,
Arrian stepped forward and lifted one foot, kicking the doors in. He had barely stepped inside before three of the Dark Fae were on him at once. Producing a dagger he’d taken from the corpse of one of the other Eendi, he began fighting them off, his speed making it difficult for them to take him down.

  As if they’d been expecting them, even more of the Dark Fae emerged from corners of what appeared to be a richly decorated great room. Finding herself picked off from the others, Phaedra continued working to use her water like a tidal wave, hurling it forward to throw one of the Eendi away from her, before pulling it back and repeating the motion, washing away another two.

  Through large, floor to ceiling windows, she spotted Rothatin’s warriors circling outside on the backs of their birds, waiting to join the fray. Raising her fingers to her lips, En’im emitted a sharp, shrill whistle that caused Phaedra to wince. It shattered the glass panes, sending the glass flying outward. The shards danced on the air, glinting in the light of the sun for a moment before dropping out of sight.

  The Warrior Fae swooped in, some remaining seated on their birds, other diving off and landing inside the penthouse on their feet. Phaedra was grateful for their presence—they could fight off the Dark Fae in a way the rest of them could not, freeing them up to concentrate on the other task at hand.

  “Come on!” Gretchen bellowed, grabbing her hand and pulling her until they both crouched behind a massive marble statue. “We can check the second floor!”

  Keeping her hand linked with Gretchen’s, she took off at a run, locating the curved staircase leading up to the second floor. The growl of a wolf warned her that Titus followed, and seconds later Arrian joined them—leaving Rothatin and his warriors to duke it out with the Eendi.

  The upstairs proved quieter than the first floor—dark and quiet. Turning to glance back at the rest of them, she released Gretchen’s hand and placed a finger over her lips. They nodded their understanding and kept quiet as directed.

  Remaining in a tight unit, they swept through the second floor, which contained what appeared to be an entertainment space. With the lights turned low, the shadows of musical instruments, a stocked bar, and oversized furniture filled the space. Pausing in the center of the room, she turned, searching for any sign of either the mirror or the missing girl.