Rise of the Phoenix

by J. L. Madore

  “No problem. Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

  Brena tears the bill from her order pad and sets it on the table. “Good luck getting to where you’re going, girlfriend. Stay safe out there.”

  That’s the idea.

  I check the total of my bill and toss twelve dollars onto the table. In the back hall, I find a lost and found bin by the doors to the bathrooms. Snagging a pair of purple sandals, I try not to think about wearing someone else’s shoes.

  With my prize in hand, I head into the washroom. After I wash up, my reflection in the mirror catches me by surprise. Wow. It’s the first time I’ve looked at myself since before the accident. The changes are subtle but noticeable.

  My green eyes practically glow emerald now, my blonde hair isn’t just flaxen, there are definite strands of copper and gold in there, and the most striking thing is the physical change to my contours. “Where did you girls come from?”

  I give my boobs a lift and admire the addition to my curves. My cheekbones seem higher, my lips fuller, my skin a richer tan. “What the hell happened?”

  Did I truly die and come back to life?

  Am I a reborn magical phoenix risen from the ashes?

  I’ve thought about it a dozen times since Jaxx told me, but how do I believe something like that? Me, a nothing-special girl, dies in a car crash and is reborn as a legendary savior for a realm of magical fae.

  Yeah, and if they knew who I am, the fates or destiny or their gods would pull their hands back and say, “Whoops, our bad. Yeah, no, not you. Wrong girl.”

  Me walking away saves them the trouble.

  “Hey, blondie,” a man says as I exit the bathroom. Donning grease-stained jeans and a worn plaid shirt, he pushes off the wall like he’s waiting for me. “I heard you talking about Las Cruses. I’m heading that way if you want a ride as far as El Paso.”

  I eye up the man offering the lift, and my creep-o-meter needle flips into the red. “That’s kind—and thanks—but it turns out a friend of mine is coming this way. I’m heading out to the parking lot now meet up with her.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I turn on my heel and exit the back door. I’ll walk to New Mexico before I get into a closed cab with that guy. I wait out of sight, watching as my plaid nightmare hauls his fat ass into his rig and starts up the engine. It rumbles and the cab shimmies as stinky black diesel exhaust spits out of the pipes.

  Good. That is good. Once he clears out, I’ll mill around and see if I can find a ride with someone that doesn’t make my skin crawl.

  The beefy rumble of Harley engines registers and my heart trips in my chest. I jog around a parked horse trailer to get a better look at the highway. Yep, a dozen choppers ease off the asphalt to slow in front of the diner.

  My heart punches at the base of my throat, making it hard to swallow. There are lots of MCs along these highways and no reason to believe these guys are Sovereign Sons.

  Ha. Paranoid much? What are the odds?

  The leader pulls off his helmet, and his straggly blond hair falls to his shoulders. I sigh. I should never ask questions like that. No matter what life I live the fates seem determined to bite me in the ass. The rest of the group takes off their helmets. Yep, I know them, and sure as shit, they’ll know me if they see me. I’m not about to give them a mulligan to kill me a second time.

  Only one way to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  I take my phone out of the side pocket on my purse and slide it into a slot on the horse trailer. The thing clunks to the wooden floor inside and I sigh. If they came for me, it’s the only thing that could’ve been traced.

  Now, to get out of here.

  Plaid Nightmare’s rig jerks as it jostles to life and pulls out of its parking spot. I run up the side of the truck, grab the hand bar, and climb up on the rail. Unlatching the door, I swing up to look over the seat. “Hey, sorry,” I say, as he cuts off the gas. “Turns out, my friend got tied up. Is that ride to El Paso still open?”

  “Hop in, and we’ll find out.”

  “Thanks.” I settle into the passenger’s seat of the big rig and keep my shoulders turned away from the diner. Is it a coincidence that the Sons are here? Did they track me? Damn. I want the element of surprise. Do they know I’m not dead?

  Hawk

  What the fuck is the female up to? First, she bolts from the diner looking like her perfect little ass is on fire. Then she hides within the maze of trucks and semis slotted in the parking lot, and then she catches sight of a bunch of gangers and throws herself into a moving vehicle.

  Curiosity peaked, I launch off the light standard and drop to the ground behind a poultry truck filled to bursting with clucking chickens. Straightening as a man, I flash on jeans and a leather jacket. With a quick jog, I make it in the side door and up to the counter at the same time as two bikers.

  “Coffee, black, to go,” I say to the waitress who served Calli. I pull a ten off the outside of my billfold and toss it on the polished Arborite.

  “Nice ink.” I point to the forearm of one of the guys in leather. By my experience, it doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, if they have flashy ink, they like it noticed. “How long did you sit?”

  The biker, a buzz-cut, square-jawed, roid-droid type pulls up the arm of his T-shirt and exposes one hell of a violent sleeve. “Fifteen hours to lay it. Another six to fill.”

  I nod, activating the scanning chip on my watch, and reach closer under the guise of examining his tattoo. “Nice. My back took thirty-two over four sittings. Worth it.”

  The waitress comes back with my order. I dip my chin to take a quick peek at the results of my scan and step to the side to fiddle with the lid of my coffee.

  “What can I get y’all?” the waitress asks.

  “We’re looking for someone. You ever see her in here?”

  I cast a casual glance as I turn to leave, and my phoenix mate gets a whole lot more interesting. There are things my intel report hasn’t turned up, like why Calli, a woman who’s lived her whole life human, is being tracked by a gang of leather-vested drow.

  Taking my leave, I step outside and frown. The bond between the other guardian mates and I is intensifying. As much as it pisses me off, their presence rings like an echo in the back of my mind.

  They’re close and getting closer.

  Instead of shifting to track Calli in the semi, I hand my untouched coffee to the homeless guy panning for change and jog out to the road. Hey, what do you know, a large brown and silver wolf is trotting up the graveled shoulder, right in front of my Navigator.

  When they get close, I step in front of my truck and give the bear the finger. “You boys are late to the party. Let me fill you in on what you’ve missed.”

  Calli

  With my stomach full of greasy diner food, the adrenaline of my escape from Sonny dying down, and the bouncy sway of my seat in the rig, I start to feel sluggish. Maybe I’m not a completely healed from my car accident. Or maybe resurrecting from the dead takes more out of a girl than I realized. Or maybe it’s just that the sun is dipping low. Whatever the reason—despite my objection—my eyes grow heavy.

  Eventually, they droop closed against the sting of oncoming headlights. I fight sleep, reviewing my options for when I find the Son’s property. Will it be an out of the way warehouse where they store illegal guns and drugs? Will it be a holding station for kidnapped and coerced women?

  No doubt there will be armed guards stationed to secure the MC’s contraband. I need to get in there to confirm there’s damning evidence that will cripple them. Then, do I call the cops or take my revenge to the next level? Am I capable of taking Sonny on and ending his life?

  The violent image of Riley’s body thrown away like garbage fuels the rage burning inside me. Yeah. I think I can. That’s assuming I can get that close. Until I know for sure, I can’t act. My plan has to be solid if it’s going to work.

  What if the property isn’t where they stash their goods?

&
nbsp; The thought of finding myself back at square one makes me nauseous. I’m running out of time… and money. Revenge is expensive. With everything Riley and I have put together, I’ve got about twenty-two-hundred bucks. I’m willing to spend it all if it means taking down the men who hurt her but it’ll run out sooner rather than later.

  I have no time to lose. Who knows what’s changed in the three days I rested in that safehouse sleigh bed? Maybe it’s already too late, and they moved things knowing I want them to pay. With worst-case scenarios spinning in my head, I miss the downshift of the truck engine.

  I startle to high alert when the air brakes squelch, and the cab lurches forward to a stop. My eyes pop wide and I cast a sideways glance at the driver. “Why did you stop?”

  “Just takin’ a piss. Nothing for you to worry about. Give me two and we’ll be back in business.”

  Oh, all right.

  Plaid Nightmare swings his door open and drops down and out the truck’s cab. I examine the deep purple sky through the windshield and figure we have about ten minutes until full dark. How far are we from El Paso? How long will it take me to get to Las Cruses? It’s hard to know without a vehicle to get there… or a phone to map it.

  Maybe I should rent a car when we get to—

  My door flies open, and rough hands grab hold. Plaid Nightmare unlatches my seatbelt buckle and pulls me out of the truck. My feet scrabble over the gravel as I try to get them under. He’s dragging me too fast to regain my balance.

  Heat explodes in my chest as panic thunders through my veins. My scalp screams as he caveman-drags me away from the road. By. My. Hair. I squirm and flail and claw. My scalp is on fire. I try again to get my feet beneath me but can’t.

  If he thinks he can drag me into the roadside scrub and rape me, he has another thing coming.

  My defensive mind catches up. I search my surroundings and look for an opening. This isn’t my first rodeo. If he intends to violate me, he’ll release his hold to unbuckle my pants. When he does, I’ll fight.

  I scream for help, but know no one will come.

  Riley’s voice sounds in my memory. You are responsible for saving yourself. Always.

  The world tilts as my legs fly out from under me. I land hard on my back. Air rushes from my lungs with violent force as my skull rattles inside my head.

  Dizzy and gasping, I miss my opportunity. By the time I can breathe, meaty fingers are delving into my pants.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I scream, fighting with everything I have. “You’re going to die, asshole.”

  Fiery rage ignites in my chest and grips me in the guts. It builds in my throat like magma trapped in the blocked funnel of a volcano and drowns out every other rational thought. It pushes up, up, ready to burst.

  It’s strength. It’s danger. It’s power.

  Heavy weight straddles my hips before a knee drops to my chest. With me pinned, he works his belt loose. The denim of his jeans pushes against my mouth. The stench of old engine grease fills my sinuses. Bile burns the back of my throat.

  Not again. Never again.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I repeat, feeling the certainty of it boiling in my blood. “You will die.”

  A wild beast clamors inside me and merges with my battered soul. It wants out. It wants the freedom to protect me, to fight, to get this asshole off me.

  The volcano erupts.

  My world explodes with the light of a thousand suns. My fury unleashes, free to do as it intends. Light bursts off my skin with blinding force, and when the filthy pig flies backward, I launch off the ground and lunge.

  Now, it’s me holding him down, my knee grinding his balls into the ground, my hands around his throat as his skin smokes and he screams for help.

  “Scream all you want. I told you how this would end.”

  I’m lost in my fury but don’t regret a thing. There’s no remorse… only satisfaction that I can take care of myself.

  I register the shifting shadows an instant before I’m knocked on my ass by a silver blast of energy. Pain detonates from my shoulder and crawls through my body like an Arctic tidal wave. I stare at the bloom of an exploded ice bomb as it melts on the torched ground around me.

  Ice bomb? Hubba-wha?

  As the shuffle of footsteps closes in, I spin onto my knees. Sonny and his leather-clad goons position themselves around me. They’re the same bunch of low life losers they’ve always been, but at the same time, they’re not. Their faces look long and gaunt, and there’s a weird mustard-colored aura surrounding them that sparks and expands as they move.

  Warning tingles across the back of my neck.

  What the—

  “Well, well,” Sonny says, stepping beyond the line of trees and into the clearing. Like all the Sons, he has scraggly bleach-blond hair and is built like a brick shithouse: broad in the shoulders, slim waist, all sinew, and muscle. Sonny has the bonus of a scar that pulls his lip up in a creepy smile. “You’re full of surprises, Barbie. Didn’t we already kill you?”

  The heated wildness in me is gone, and the sense of power I had frying the trucker is quickly dissolving. The ball of icy flame that hit me drained my power. I look at the flesh of my palms and the lingering licks of flame flicking from my fingertips.

  I’m flaming out.

  “I’m not dead. Or at least, not anymore.”

  Sonny frowns at Blade. “You said she was dead.”

  He nods. “She must’ve rezzed, somehow. Explains the human torch routine we walked in on.”

  The corner of Sonny’s twisted smile pulls up as he approaches. He stops beyond my arm’s reach and breathes deep. “How did a worthless nary end up as a phoenix?”

  I remain half-crouched. Naked and with my muscles aching, I’m far too vulnerable. My quivering legs feel like rubber beneath my weight. “Diamond in the rough, I guess.”

  I search the expectant faces of a dozen men I’ve known in passing since Riley caught Viper’s eye six months ago. The anticipation in their dark gazes makes my stomach flip. I fight the revulsion rising within—my survival instincts going berserk. I’m in no shape to outrun these men… or take them on.

  “You should’ve stayed dead, Barbie. It would have hurt less than what’s in store for you now.”

  Snake chuckles. “You gonna let us have her, Boss? Can we see if she fights as good as her little friend?”

  There’s a murmur of male interest. Fury stings my eyes.

  “We’ll make sure she suffers,” someone shouts from the shadows.

  Sonny tilts his head from side to side and then shrugs. “All right. Use her, then kill her. And make sure she stays dead this time. The last thing I need is a phoenix fucking up my plans.”

  The sweep of his hand toward me signals the start of the main event. His men launch.

  Mischief, Sonny’s Sergeant at Arms, lunges at me, teeth bared. He goes straight for my jugular. As crazy as a vampire attack seems, my instincts kick in and I manage to save my throat. I don’t get away clean, though. Those pointy fangs catch my collarbone and I scream as he bites down.

  He doesn’t bite long. He curses and tears away, a chunk of my shoulder in his mouth. “Fuck! She’s hot.”

  I fight, struggling against the hold of three men. They are too strong, but my skin is really hot because the stench of burnt flesh singes my nostrils. The stars above spin as I slam down on the scorched grass and hit the ground hard.

  I pummel and claw at any flesh I see.

  The taste of char burns in my throat, but my heat refuses to ignite. Mischief snaps at me again. I kick at the massive bodies, pinning me down. An elbow slams into my jaw and the world fritzes out of focus.

  Panic and pain rush through me.

  Don’t pass out.

  I twist and kick my limbs with all my strength. I hear screams. It might be me. I’m nauseous with the smell of burning hair and flesh. They don’t hold on long before they curse, and another comes at me.

  A hard fist connects with my temple. I
groan and the world dims. Agony pierces my other shoulder. I glare as the pain leaches through my body. What kills a phoenix? Am I like a vampire? If so, I’m in big trouble because there’s a wooden stake sticking out of my body.

  A sharper pain sears my abdomen. I curl my knees up and scream. My scrabbling becomes more desperate than determined. I flinch as my arm is gouged. I try to reach the power inside me, but nothing registers—except pain.

  Shouts ring out.

  The stink of Mischief’s breath floods my sinuses. He draws his hot, wet tongue up my cheek, and I know I’ve lost. A thunder of rushing footsteps brings another round of men on top of us. Maybe they’ll kill me quickly, and I’ll come back again and make them pay. Can I come back again?

  I don’t know how resurrection works.

  I don’t know anything about my powers.

  I don’t even know what the hell Sonny and his men are.

  My fault. I should’ve listened to Jaxx and the others—

  The weight on me vanishes, replaced by warm fur at my hip and a vicious growl and snap of teeth toward the attacking world. I blink past the blood stinging my eyes. My vision is spotty and double, but I feel his presence as clearly as see him. My wolf is here.

  He hunches low, his dagger-tipped fangs gleaming in the moonlight. I sink my fingers into the lush coat of my protector and sag to the forest floor.

  My wolf… is… here.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Brant

  I barrel through the core of Calli’s attackers and take five down in a juggernaut run. It’s crude and only works because even in human form, I’m that big. With the added bonus of the element of surprise, I take the win. Calli’s down and bleeding bad. I have to hold off these bastards long enough for Kotah to stabilize her. My contribution doesn’t have to be pretty, just effective. It’s why I’m here for her.

  Getting back to my feet, I tip my neck from side to side and roll my shoulders, splitting my t-shirt in the process. “Care to dance, gentlemen? Or do you only fight females?”

  Finally, after days of sitting on my hands, I get to stretch my legs. And fists. Yeah, don’t forget my fists. After dealing with Hawk’s superiority bullshit and worrying about Calli, I’m spoiling for a bloody throwdown.