by Jess Haines
ASHES OF THE PHOENIX
Jess Haines
Table of Contents
Title Page
Ashes of the Phoenix (Rise of the Phoenix, #1)
ASHES OF THE PHOENIX
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
About the Author
Bibliography
Ashes of the Phoenix ©2017 by Jess Haines
Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
ISBN: 978-0-9889728-3-4
Author ISNI: 0000 0001 2233 2442
Jess Haines ° PO Box 7634 ° Clearwater, FL 33758
www.JessHaines.com ° [email protected]
ASHES OF THE PHOENIX
Legend says a phoenix will rise again—but all that remains of the immortal bird are ashes and whispered fairy tales...
Lyra Adams enjoys her job as a rare books dealer, but when an angry wizard barges into her store and demands she fork over a unique tome from the antiquities section, she's not about to let him get away with grand larceny without a fight.
Except it's suddenly very difficult to defend her wares, seeing as the wizard turned her into some kind of weird red bird by flinging a handful of ashes in her face.
Her only hope of returning to her normal, human self lies in the hands of the one man she never wanted to see again: her lying, stealing, sorcerous scumbag ex, James Pierce. The same light-fingered thief who tried to steal that very same tome from her a few days before.
She knows she can’t trust James with her heart or her inventory. Can she trust him to turn her back?
Chapter 1
Lyra was dusting the hardcovers in the Crime/Thriller section when the bell to the front door jingled. Absently brushing a few stray auburn wisps back under the bandanna she’d donned, she leaned back to peer around the shelf.
“Can I help... oh, you again? Let me guess.”
The man standing just inside the threshold of Tidal Tomes Book Store & More inclined his head, his usually blue eyes glittering with an inner fae light that bore an eerie resemblance to the dust motes drifting in the rays of sunlight pouring in through the storefront windows. He was in street clothes instead of initiate’s robes, but it didn’t take a fancy outfit to tell he was some flavor of mage. All three times he’d visited her shop, he’d never said anything about what discipline he followed, or even told her his name, and she hadn’t bothered asking. If he was going to be rude enough to flash his aura in her store and—worse—keep coming back without actually buying anything, she was sure he wasn’t anywhere near as good of a practitioner as he probably thought he was.
He strolled in, sauntering toward the counter to idly flick through the rotating collection of bookmarks on their spinning wheel. “Just one more look, I promise. If this is really the tome I’ve been looking for, you’ll be paid well for it.”
Lyra tucked the duster under her arm and made her way behind the counter. The mage might have been cute if he wasn’t trying so hard to pull off the whole master-of-time-and-space shtick. He had the right clothes, obviously fitted to his toned frame, his ashy blond hair had the right cut, and he smelled like some kind of expensive, musky aftershave, but the oppressive force of his aura, cruel twist to his lips, and calculating gleam in his eyes made it easy to see past the façade.
She stuck out the duster to halt the incessant squeaking of the wheel and hooked her rolling chair with a foot to pull it close and settle down. Leaning back, she propped her feet on the counter.
“Now, I’d love to help you with that, but I’m afraid you’ve used all your frequent flyer miles. No.”
He pulled back, frowning. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sure you heard me. Nope, no more free passes. You’ve already had a shot at it longer than most. It’s one thing to skim through the latest Harry Potter or Fifty Shades of whatever while you’re browsing. It’s quite another to read through one of those spellbooks. This isn’t a library, it’s a book store. I can’t pay the rent with IOUs. If you want to give me a major credit card, cash, or an equivalent exchange in precious metals, jewels, et cetera, I’ll give you the book. Gift wrapped and everything. With all the trouble it’s been giving me, I might even throw in a thank you card.”
The mage straightened, looking down his nose through narrowed eyes. “As I said, I need to be sure it’s the right book first. I only need to check a few more things—”
Lyra slapped her hand on the countertop, making the bell in the old fashioned register jingle. “How many times must I say it? No, the book is not available for any more viewings, and if you ask me again, it’s not for sale either.”
To his credit, the mage didn’t flinch. He pursed his lips, his expression giving the impression he had just bit into something rotten. The light scent of ozone became stronger with his agitation, the crackle of magic mixing with the heavy musk of his aftershave in a way that Lyra found nauseating. She gave no hint of her discomfort, staring him down.
After a brief hesitation, he broke the stare down first, gaze sliding away as he withdrew a thin wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He tugged out one of the credit cards and snapped the plastic on the countertop, making it clack against the polished wood.
With a terse nod, she rose, glancing at the card. “Thank you, Mr. Martin. Give me a moment, I’ll go get it and then ring you up. Wait here.”
He smiled in a way she didn’t like, the flash of teeth too predatory to be called polite. “Oh, call me Edward, Lyra. I insist.”
His use of her name didn’t phase her, even though she’d never given it to him. She was well known enough in the magical community that his attempt at pretending to know something about her she’d never told him to put her off balance didn’t work the way he intended. She just rolled her eyes and nodded once more, ignoring his moue of disappointment at her lack of reaction. “All right, Edward. Wait here.”
She made her way to the back of the store, breathing easier as she put more distance between them.
At the end of the rows of bookshelves, between the bathrooms and the door hiding the stairwell leading to the upstairs apartment, was what had originally been the stock room. The rarest, most valuable tomes were kept there under lock, key, and ward to prevent intruders. While she’d often considered that she’d been taken for a ride by the shady rune salesman who had handled setting up her security features on the property, she’d found the wards surprisingly effective at keeping out prying eyes, sticky fingers, and nosy exes.
It had been less than a week sin
ce said nosy ex had attempted to steal the same book that Edward was after. If Lyra had a magical bone in her body, she might have been more curious about it. As it was, a mortal did not last long in the business of procuring and selling magical artifacts without a hefty sense of self-preservation. That included an innate healthy respect for books that made one’s fingertips tingle with power just by touching the spine.
The invisible wards had all the hairs on her arms rising as she stepped inside. The bare bulb illuminating the room didn’t do much to make it welcoming. The stock room was more like a glorified janitor’s closet, but it served the purpose of providing a safe place to store the most valuable items in her inventory, as well as the remaindered titles she was still trying to find homes for without sacrificing her profit margin. Tearing the covers off paperbacks felt too sacrilegious, and shipping the hardcovers back was often too much of a hassle. When she had the room for the extra books, storing them in the back room was a happy medium until she could find buyers online.
The rows of rare titles were neatly stacked and alphabetized. Those without titles or authors were ranked in order by Lyra’s internal how-much-does-this-freak-me-out meter.
The book that had roused so much interest from Edward and her ex, James, was at the far end of the missing author/title row. Only a few—one with bones tied into the bindings, one she was almost positive had been written in blood, and a couple others with some sort of hide for covers—got under her skin more than the simple, cloth-bound book with the intricate golden clasp.
While it was clear there had been a title, the gold leaf had long since flaked away from what had once been a vibrant blue cover. Now it was washed out to the color of a stormy sea, and was about as inviting. The clasp had been the only way Lyra had been able to properly identify the book when it had come to her through a private library she’d purchased at an estate sale. Among other treasures, the book bore the imprint of an obscure warlock’s personal crest; a skull with a feather below, and what she’d eventually recognized as a flame above.
Whether there were any spells in the book, Lyra couldn’t say. The only thing she knew for sure was that the lock on the book was magical. Something James had been quick to point out, and use as leverage to get his hands on it. She hated working with him, but he was by far the cheapest resource she had available to determine the nature of books like this one. Her anti-theft wards throughout the store were the only reason he hadn’t been able to walk out with it when she hadn’t been looking. He’d even gone so far as to attempt a break in last week. A good reminder of why she couldn’t trust him.
Curling her lip at the memory, she tugged the book off the shelf and tucked it under her arm, ignoring the buzz of power it radiated against her skin. Good riddance, she thought.
Edward was tapping his fingertips on the countertop when she returned, though he was quick to stop and reach out eagerly for the book. She held it out with one hand as she went around the counter, picking up his credit card with the other.
He pressed a fingertip to the clasp, muttering a few words over it. With a sharp crack, the book sprang open, and an unseen wave of power ruffled Lyra’s hair.
“Whoa, now,” she said, a bit breathless. “Wait until you’re outside for that. No spellwork in my shop.”
Edward didn’t respond, his gaze riveted to the pages as he flicked through them. Grimacing against the sulphuric stink that rose from the book, Lyra focused on running the credit card, punching in the figure she’d quoted the mage the last time he was here.
Declined.
Frowning, she tried a second time, all the while ignoring the building surge of power around Edward. Her wards would stop any spells intended to do harm, so she wasn’t too worried about anything except collecting her fee and airing out the stench later.
When the card failed to process a second time, she sighed and held it out. “Look, Edward, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull—”
“Yes! This is the one!” Quick as a snake, he snatched his credit card back out of her hand. He dropped a crumpled single on the counter instead.
Nonplussed, Lyra stared at him. He grinned at her, a wolfish smile with too many teeth, as he brandished the book in her direction.
“A free word of advice: cheap wards against stealing like yours don’t differentiate between price tags, only exchange of goods or currency. I’ll be taking this. Be seeing you, Lyra. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
With a low curse, she reached for the book. “Don’t even try it. I have your name, your credit card information, and your face on my security camera footage. You walk out of here with that book, and I will make you pay in ways you haven’t even thought of, buddy.”
Edward pulled back, his fingers tightening on the spine. Eyes narrowed, he looked around, probably for the security camera she’d fibbed about having. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. I promise you, it’s safer out of your hands.”
Lyra came around the counter, brandishing the baseball bat she kept under it for occasions like this one. Edward’s eyes widened as he rapidly backpedaled.
“And I promise you, a woman scorned has nothing on a woman gypped.”
As she raised the bat, Edward reached into the front pocket of his jeans and yanked out a handful of what looked like gray-black dust. Before she could spit out another threat, he shouted what sounded like gibberish and blew the pile of ash in her face.
And then her world fell away in a blinding wave of fire.
Chapter 2
Agonizing waves of heat racked Lyra’s body. Were her bones melting?
All the air in her lungs had burned away. Once she managed to gasp in a few sharp breaths and could the fading pain was no longer blinding, she couldn’t quite register what she was seeing.
Edward looked... different. In fact, her entire store was so vivid in her vision, some of the colors so vibrant, she briefly wondered who had snuck in a black light when she wasn’t looking. Blinking rapidly, she attempted to scoot back, but her limbs weren’t cooperating.
“Huh,” he said, looking at the flecks of dirt on his hand, then back down at her. There was an unfamiliar blue-white symbol, like an eye in the center of a summoning circle’s star, on the back of his hand that glowed so brightly it made her eyes sting. “Not the result I was hoping for, but I suppose this will do.”
Lyra opened her mouth to wheeze out a groan, but what came out was a sharp squawk. Startled, another sound escaped, even higher pitched than the last. She raised her arm to touch her throat—only to find that her arm was now covered in feathers that glowed like they were on fire, and no longer bent the way she remembered.
A garbled scream escaped her as she flailed back from the mage, achieving a haphazard lift that sent a whirlwind of ash and feathers that glimmered like embers down the aisles of books. Edward scrambled back, clutching the book to his chest and batting away the few feathers that drifted toward him with a pained hiss as they made contact with his skin.
“What did you do to me?” she cried, landing in an ungainly sprawl on strange new limbs. Her voice sounded nothing like she remembered; high pitched, reedy, like a parrot instead of a person.
Edward studied her briefly, not answering, still rubbing his hand against his pants leg to get rid of the sting. After some time spent regaining his composure, he shrugged and turned away, tucking the book under his arm. Clearly he was preparing to leave without so much as a word in apology.
Furious, Lyra struggled to her feet and, with an ungainly flap of wings, dashed after him. As the door opened with a jingle, he neatly sidestepped out of the way as she tumbled, beak-first, at the feet of a different man who had paused mid-reach for the door.
The newcomer stared, dumbfounded, at the glowing heap of feathers at his feet. “What the hell is this? Lyra, when did you get a parrot?”
She flapped her wings indignantly, glaring up at the person she least wanted to see—next to Edward, that was.
James Pierce had th
e sort of good looks that made it easy to forget that he could be a lying, cheating, thieving snake. His blond hair, chiseled jaw, and lean build made him attractive, but his rakish smile made him devastating. Unlike Edward, his dark blue eyes only glowed with magic when he was in the middle of casting something—though they frequently glittered with mischief in the interim. It was one of the reasons she had fallen so easily for him; it was easy to forget what he was when he wasn’t working.
Then again, his tendency to be so light-fingered with her goods was what had driven her to hiring outside help to ward the store against thieves in the first place.
“Go on, shoo,” he said, nudging her aside with his boot as he peered inside. “Lyra?”
“She’s not here,” Edward said, moving to pass them both. “Excuse me.”
James’s eyes narrowed, ignoring the squawks of the bird pecking at his shoes as he focused on the other mage. A glimmer of power brought blue sparks to burning life in the depths of his irises. He knew she would never leave the store unattended during business hours.
His hand shot out, blocking Edward’s escape.
“Hold on, there. Where is she?”
“Right here, you ass!”
That high-pitched voice may not have sounded a thing like Lyra, but the attitude was all her. James peered down at the bird glaring up at him. She was a vision of living fire, vivid in hues of orange, red, and yellow that flickered like flames in the sunlight. Her long, trailing tail was fanned out in distress, a crest similar to that of a cockatoo lifted, her wings spread in an awkward parody of a child reaching to tug their parent’s pant leg. The aura of magic that surrounded her was incredible; now that he was paying attention, he couldn’t fathom how he missed it.
He didn’t have time to fully process what he was seeing before Edward was elbowing his way out the door. As soon as James saw the book in the other man’s hand, he cursed and made a grab for it.
Edward snarled and yanked the book back, his fingertips taking on a subtle golden glow as he slashed a shield into the space between them.