Phoebe - Not Quite A Pheonix

by Unknown

  What I saw stopped my heart. Lying in a crumbled heap on the floor with a bleeding gash across his forehead was Jax. Tears stung my eyes as I tried with all my might to cry out, to move, to do anything to make sure he was okay. It was the last thing I saw before a black bag was shoved over my head.

  It seemed like forever before the big lug that was carrying me stopped moving. I can tell you that traveling upside down, in the dark, with all the blood rushing to my head, unable to move anything but my eyes, totally sucked and made me more than a little nauseous. The forward motion might have stopped, but there was still a menagerie of weird noises coming from all directions. I heard a creak followed by a loud bang that reminded me of rusty iron, what sounded like rubber soles squeaking on a cement floor, and scratching…a continual creepy scraping that sounded as if someone or something was trying to dig its way out.

  While I was trying to discern which direction all the weird sounds were coming from, my captor began moving again. I counted fifteen steps. Heard yet another rusty squeak…much closer than the others. Then I was hurled through the air before landing on something hard and scratchy that smelled like old gym socks. The black hood was ripped from my head, allowing me to catch just a glimpse of my abductor, as he slammed shut the aforementioned squeaky, iron bars. All I can tell you is that he was huge and covered in black from head to toe. Oh yeah, and I was stuck!

  Looking around, I realized I was in a cell with a stone floor, walls, and ceiling, and there was a tiny window also covered with bars about ten feet above my head. Standing, I stumbled just a bit, and it was then that the nasty taste in my mouth finally made sense…the rat bastards had drugged me. Rage at the nerve of my abductors pushed the residual effects of the drugs out of system. I counted eight sets of heavy chains, with even heavier cuffs hanging from the walls, and matching shackles coming from a hook as big around as my calf (and I’m not a little girl) in the middle of the floor. The word dungeon floated through my brain. I didn’t even try to stop the manic laughter that bubbled out of my mouth.

  To say I was sure I was losing my mind is an understatement. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the tap of a stiletto heel striking rock echoed through the chamber and I saw Helena slinking towards me. The look on her face said it all. She was responsible for my present accommodations. Fighting the instinct to tell her exactly what I thought of her, I plopped down onto the nasty mattress and waited. It was the farthest I could get from her without burrowing into the wall.

  She stood looking at me, her beady black eyes glittering with malice and more than a little triumph. When she spoke it was like nails on a chalkboard. Not even the Greek accent helped. I imagined her in raven form and the grating tone of her voice made sense. Once again she was dressed in all black. This time it was a black silk jumpsuit cinched at the waist with a wide, black belt. Just like her gown from our previous encounter, it had a high collar and covered all but her hands and feet. She wore pointed toe boots with at least four inch stiletto heels that added to her already tall stature and made her look like an amazon warrior. As striking as she looked, it was the massive silver buckle sitting at her waist that caught and held my eye. It was an exact replica of the birthmark on my ankle. A birthmark I now new signified the ruler of the aviary shifters. I had to give the girl credit; she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to do whatever it took to get it.

  “My, my, my. What do we have here? Birdie in a cage?”

  Rolling my eyes, I declined to answer, just watching as she closed in on the bars that separated us.

  “What? No witty comebacks?” She looked right and then left before continuing. “And where are your men? Could it be that you are all alone? Poor little orphan girl, right back where she started…lost and alone,” the bitch mocked.

  I knew she was baiting me. Everything was a game to her…one she had perfected. Literally biting my tongue, I just stared, hoping she got the hint and left. Of course, I wasn’t that lucky.

  “Well, it seems as though the cats got your tongue.” She cackled with laughter at some private joke and made me wish for earplugs. “Guess you haven’t figured that part out yet.” She shrugged. “Maybe you never will. No matter. You, little sister, are the thorn in my side that I’m tired of dealing with. You need to be plucked out and tossed aside, just like you were all those years ago.”

  She pinched her red tipped fingers together and mimicked picking lint from her sleeve and flicking it away to accentuate her point.

  “Even before anyone had confirmation of your existence I was forced to live in the shadow of the hope of a true phoenix coming to save our people. My lost sister being returned to the flock. The one woman that could bring light to the aviary shifters. And you know what? I got sick and tired of it. I like it dark. It kind of suits me, don’t you think?” She winked, not waiting for me to answer.

  “So I waited and planned. Gathered followers who believe as I do… that we birds of prey need to usher in a new age. One of darkness and power, where we no longer hide from the humans but show them who we are and claim all that is rightfully ours. The world was meant for us, not the worthless Homo sapiens that have little to no discernable talents except for their abilities to serve us.”

  She paused and I guessed she was waiting for me to comment, but honestly, I couldn’t think of anything to say except, ‘Who the hell pissed in your Post Toasties?’ and I figured that wouldn’t go over well. So, I sat there like a bump on a log waiting for the crazy cow to get on with it.

  She didn’t disappoint.

  “All that stands in my way is you. I’m not sure if your watered-down, half-breed blood will be able to call your Fire, but it’s not a chance I’m not willing to take. Therefore, you need to disappear. Not like before, where some curious kitty can find you. No, this time it has to be for real…forever…permanently. I’d like to say I’m sorry it came to this…but…well, I’m not.” She shook her head with mock pity.

  “Wish mom hadn’t been a slut, or at least had the sense to keep it in our species, but she fell in love.” She shuddered with repulsion. “How weak and pathetic. I should feel bad about ordering her death, but honestly, I didn’t lose a wink of sleep.”

  I wanted to gouge out her eyes and feed them to her while she begged for mercy. She had taken my mother from me. The bitch had to pay. I mean, she really had to pay.

  “Enjoy your time in the dungeon. It hasn’t been used in years. You’re the first of what I’m sure will be many inhabitants. Isn’t that exciting?” She clapped her hands like a little girl getting her first pony. (Of course, I’m sure the harpy would just eat the poor little guy…bones and all.)

  “One of the boys will be down to get you after dark. Wouldn’t want anyone to see you on your way out.” Her evil smile and heartless cackle solidified every word she’d spoken. My own sister was going to have me killed. All those years of wishing for a family and this is what I get. Talk about a letdown.

  “This is your last chance, Phoebe. Any last words?”

  My mind was cluttered with so many thoughts and emotions, I felt like I was caught in a tornado with no escape. The idea of telling Helena exactly what I thought of her and her insane ideas sounded good, but I decided against giving her the satisfaction. I wanted to condemn her for ordering our mother’s death, but she would’ve taken that as a sign of weakness. I’d had to deal with bigger piles of crap than her and had never let them see me sweat. One crazy half-sister hell bent on world domination was not going to make me crack. I was Phoebe freaking O’Byrne, dammit!

  “Okay, little bird. Well, this is goodbye.” She blew a kiss and finger waved before turning on her heel and slithering away. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve sworn her alter ego was a snake, not a bird. The sound of a heavy wooden door slamming and the click of several locks was all I heard before the silence closed in around me.

  I watched the light from the window turn from a bright glow to a warm, orangey red and knew it had to be at least six or sev
en in the evening. Only a few hours since I’d laid down for a nap and dreamed of my mom.

  Thinking of Jax, I hoped he was okay. The last time I’d seen him he looked hurt and helpless. If I had to die, the one thing that would make it worthwhile was if the only person in the world I considered family would be allowed to live a long, full life. He needed to find peace and happiness. No one deserved it more.

  I also thought of Grant. Something in my heart told me he was blameless in the debacle I found myself in the middle of. Maybe it was my libido talking, but I was sure he had no clue of Helena’s plan. Ever since our first meeting, there had been something in the way he looked at me that said it was more than business for him. Hell, he even defended me to the nasty bitch. That had to mean something, right?

  Sitting in the waning light, contemplating my life, I could at least be honest with myself…I liked the arrogant jerk. Well, more than liked him. I was at least in lust with him. He was hot as sin and made me feel things I’d never felt for another man. Shame I hadn’t had time to see if he felt the same. (No whining. Buck up, buttercup.)

  It wasn’t like I’d never dated. It was just that those dates never turned into anything serious. It’s not that they were jerks or anything like that. Seriously, they were all nice guys. Just nothing to write home about. In every case there was no spark, just blah, blah, blah. After my tenth so-so boring date, I decided to focus on school, figuring when the right guy came along, I would know it. And he did, dressed in designer clothes with more charisma than should’ve been allowed and grey eyes that seemed to look right into my soul. He was also the most infuriating man on the planet…but once again I’ve gotten off track.

  I’d never been a religious person but on this one occasion, I prayed, like got on my knees, folded my hands, bowed my head, and prayed. I asked the Man upstairs to please look out for my best friend, to get him out of harm’s way and let him live to a ripe old age. I also prayed for Magistrate Willburn and all the good people my mom had given her life to protect. If Helena had it her way, they were going to suffer and die. Lastly, I prayed for Grant. I admitted to God that I really liked him and didn’t want anything to happen to him. I even asked that he find a good woman and have lots of kids. I didn’t know if he could turn into a bird or not, so I left it at that. I did know none of the craziness surprised him, so he was connected somehow. Not that it really mattered, considering my future was limited to just a few hours.

  Self-pity is not pretty and not something I have ever subscribed to. I admit to falling into that pit for almost thirty minutes before the little voice in my head started screaming for me to get my head out of my ass and figure out how to save the day, or at least my big behind. Summoning the fortitude that had seen me through more than one scrape, I stood and looked at the last ray of sunshine making its way through the window. Turning a very slow complete circle, searching for any weakness I could capitalize on, something shiny stashed under the pitiful excuse for a mattress caught my eye.

  Practically diving for the object, I slid my hand along the stone floor and pulled out what had been a butter knife in another life. The blade had been sharpened to a jagged edge and the handle wrapped in torn material secured with tiny knots. Obviously one of the other occupants of the dungeon had planned an escape. I had to wonder if he made it out.

  Shaking off the doubts that threatened my resolve, I got on my hands and knees, feeling along the crevice where the wall met the floor. Luck was finally on my side. There was a hole the size of my fist just under where the hinge of my cage’s door attached to the stone wall. Gripping the knife like the lifeline it was, I began to dig.

  As the sun continued its descent my cell became so dark I could only see shadows. I kept digging, thinking that if I could loosen the dry, crackling grout around the hinge and its bolts enough to move the bottom of the bars I could shimmy through. Once I was free, I would be able to find the guys and get us the hell out of dodge.

  I was so focused on my mission I almost missed the sounds of what I could only describe as nails tapping against stone. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I quickly swept the evidence of my escape attempt into the corner, shoved my knife in the waistband of my shorts, and dove for the mattress. All I could think was maybe if I acted like I was asleep, whoever it was would leave me alone.

  The noise got louder, echoing off the stone. It was soon joined by the sound of boots striking the same rocks. Just figured one of them would be in bird-form and the other still wearing his human suit. At least they knew I was a force to be reckoned with…they sent two henchmen after my bad ass. (Pep talks have always worked for me in the past, I figured it couldn’t hurt.)

  Gripping the knife I had carefully pulled from my shorts to my chest, I felt my heart pounding with anticipation and fear. The outer door to the chamber where my cell was located opened and the sound of the footsteps amplified, driving my adrenalin so high I was sure I would jump out of my skin. I remembered there were fifteen steps from where I guessed they were to my cell from my arrival, so I began counting. When I got to ten, I took one last deep breath, held it for an extra second, and then slowly exhaled.

  A calm acceptance filled my body, I knew the next few minutes would determine whether I lived or died. Putting the memory of my mom, along with a picture of Jax and Grant in the forefront of my mind, I waited.

  Thirteen…Fourteen…Fifteen…

  A key jangled in the lock to my cell. I held my breath.

  The door scraping across the ground sounded as loud as the bells of Westminster Abbey. I knew at any second I was going to be scooped up and thrown over yet another shoulder, but this time I had a surprise for whatever asshole dared manhandle me.

  Forced to exhale or pass out just as a large hand grabbed my shoulder, I rolled forward, throwing all my momentum into jumping to a standing position on the rotten mattress, wielding my knife like a samurai sword while trying not to fall on my face.

  Thrusting forward with all I was, my trusty shiv hit home. A low ominous growl, along with a muffled yelp, quickly followed by “What the fuck, Phoebs?!” had me pulling back my knife and squinting my eyes to make sure my ears weren’t deceiving me.

  I could just make the outline of a big bald head and bulging muscles before I recognized the scent of the Tom Ford cologne I’d gotten Jax for Christmas. Launching myself at his chest, I clung to his neck and kissed his cheek, repeating, ‘You saved me! You saved me!’ over and over. His huge arms closed around me, holding me close, assuring me that I wasn’t dreaming.

  I must have said it out loud because he chuckled against my hair. “No, ya little maniac, you’re not dreaming. But did you have to stab me?”

  Pulling back, I swatted his shoulder and scolded, “I thought you were one of Helena’s men. That crazy bitch wants to kill me.”

  “Yeah I know. Grant heard her talking to someone while he was out back on the phone. I woke up on the floor, saw you were gone, and ran into him in the hallway. We’ve been looking for you ever since.”

  Jax set me down and went to move away. I grabbed his hand, not willing to take a chance he might disappear. With all the crazy shit I’d seen in less than twenty-four hours, I wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He squeezed my hand as I asked, “Where is that pain in the ass lawyer?”

  The same menacing growl from before sounded again just as Jax lit the Zippo lighter he always kept in his pocket. What I saw had me backing away as far as Jax’s arm would allow. Not ten feet in front of me stood what had to be the biggest lion in history. Now, I’m in no way an expert, but I have been to my share of zoos, and even visited Animal Kingdom, but the very large, very menacing looking specimen before me was huge and most definitely in charge.

  He gave a half snarl with an impressive show of teeth and took a step in my direction. By the dim light of Jax’s lighter I could see that the beast’s paw was bigger than my foot and I wear a respectable size ten. Standing completely still, I whispered, “Jax, Hun, is the circus in tow
n too?”

  Barking out a laugh, his only answer was, “Just watch.”

  The feel of butterflies washed over me, and from one heartbeat to the next, the lion became Grant. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or kick him in the shin, so I got snarky. It is, after all, what I do best.

  “Left out a few personal details there, didn’t ya, counselor? Let me guess… It slipped your mind? You were waiting for just the right moment? No, I know…You thought I might be allergic. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Completely forgetting that we were standing in a dungeon and that my deranged half-sister wanted me dead, I doubled up my fist, reared back, and swung for all I was worth. In hindsight, I should’ve known he would be able to move with cat-like reflexes. (Get it? I know. I crack me up, too.) But as it stood, I was freaked out, pissed off, and needed one person I could blame it on that wasn’t me.

  The jerk moved to the right and stepped forward, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me tight to his chest. Before I could catch my breath his lips were on mine. His kiss was raw and demanding. I could feel the anger and fear fueling his passion. In that moment I realized two things…Grant liked me just as much as I liked him and he was just a scared I was going die as I’d been.

  “Alright you two, how about we get the hell outta here before Helena’s men come back. You can play kissy face when we’re thirty thousand feet in the air, headed back to America.”

  Grant and I broke apart at the sound of Jax’s voice. I felt the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks and thanked God the lighter had been put out.

  “Sorry about that,” Grant muttered in Jax’s direction while gripping my hand and pulling me to his side.

  I felt his lips at my ear as he whispered, “I thought I’d lost you.”