Flaming feathers fly. Blood splatters the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Yaritza sprint toward Max, brandishing her knives. Though it will give me away, I twist away from Iris and go for Yaritza’s eyes. She shrinks from my attack with a rage-filled scream. One of her sleeves ignites and gray blood flushes her face.
Hovering over Max, I spin, taking a small hunk out of Iris’ feathered neck, then cast another wave of fire at Yaritza. This time, she slumps to one knee, the heat finally getting to her. I dart at her head, slamming into the side of it with my beak hard enough to knock her prone.
She doesn’t get up.
Then talons rake deep into my back. Pain lances through me and I slip out of phoenix form, crumpling to my elbows and knees next to Max. Iris shifts. Wild-eyed, she pulls her own dagger from a pocket in her jacket and lifts it overhead.
In one last ditch effort to protect Max, I lunge in front of him. Iris’ blade slams into the right side of my chest. Pain screams through me as my legs threaten to give out. With a choking sound, Iris draws back, releasing a stream of blood from my wound. It soaks my shirt and the waistband of my jeans.
Unshed tears dampen Iris’ lashes. She covers her mouth with her free hand as I press one of mine into the wound. Knees shaking, I stand firmly in place, watching for a second attack. This clearly surprised her. I can read the regret plain as anything on her face. Maybe it’s enough to shock her out of this vendetta.
Then she lifts the knife again. “Get out of my way.”
Terror plows through me. I’ve died so many times, suffered so many broken bones, gunshot wounds, blood loss, but this is different. If I can’t convince Iris to let go of her revenge on Max before I bleed out, I don’t get another chance. This might be game over for both of us.
Adding pressure to the deep gash, I widen my stance further, fighting to stay upright even as darkness edges in on my vision. “You don’t want to do this.”
“I certainly don’t want to hurt you. But him ... It’s the only way I’ll ever get justice,” Iris says in a shaking hiss. “You heard what Yaritza said. It’s impossible to find Aline. She killed my brother. Maybe she didn’t do the actual deed, but she might as well have pushed him over that cliff when she was done with him. He was all alone. Like an addict cut off without anyone to help him. Someone has to pay for that.”
“I know.” I straighten as much as my bleeding body will allow even as my energy plummets. “I know what it’s like to not get justice, but I also know what it’s like to suffer for a wrong another person did. Please don’t take this out on someone innocent of the crime you want justice for.”
“No one’s innocent.” Iris’ voice falls to a whisper and the dagger in her hand jerks slightly.
I sniff, fighting tears from panic and pain, battling to stay conscious. “Maybe not, but Max isn’t the one who took your brother. He’s not guilty of that crime. Killing him won’t be real justice and you know it.”
A tremor runs through Iris’ body. “At least it’s something.” She tightens her grip on her dagger.
Max stirs behind me with a small groan. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m not innocent.”
I shift my eyes to him, but don’t fully look away from Iris. “Max—”
“It’s okay.” He draws in a labored breath. “I was there when my mom was with Joel. He was a really nice guy. The nicest one she ever brought home. When he disappeared I should’ve done something. I was young but I should have tried to help him, tried to find him. So, I am guilty.”
No warmth fills the room and my heart scrambles for my throat. Weak or not, Max could so easily use his magic to get out of this, compel Iris to stop, but for whatever reason, he’s refusing to do so. Maybe he really does believe what he’s saying. Maybe he does believe he’s guilty.
Knees weak, I swivel my focus between Max, Iris, and Yaritza. There is no way I’m letting him take the fall for this. Not when he’s innocent. I keep my hand up but prepare for an attack. If Iris tries to kill him, I might still be able to block her, at least for a little while. But that black at the edges of my vision is creeping in. My head is swimming.
I won’t be able to stay conscious much longer.
Then the tears brimming in Iris’ eyes fall and she drops her arm. “You met him?” She asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Max says. “He taught me how to cook. None of my mom’s other boyfriends ever paid much attention to me. He did.”
Iris’ grip tightens on her knife. Her knuckles whiten. I widen my stance, if only to keep upright for a little bit longer. If she attacks again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to fight her off, even with the help of Zeph’s shell. Even so, I’ll have to try to make a final stand.
Then, slowly, Iris sheaths her weapon. “Joel was always kind. Much more so than I’ve ever been.” She heaves a heavy breath. “But maybe I can honor his memory by trying to be a little more like him.”
From her pocket, she pulls out her cell and types something out. It dings and my own phone vibrates with the alert. Again, hope springs to life inside of me as Iris looks up again and gives us a sharp nod.
“I’ve officially called off the bounty on Max.” She flicks a tear from one of her cheeks with the tip of a finger. “Maybe one day, I’ll be able to find Aline.”
“I’ll try to help,” I say, words slurring, knees shaking. “Maybe with Max’s help we’ll have more success.”
“I would appreciate that. In the meantime, maybe,” she peeks at Max “... maybe you could tell me a bit about the end of his life?”
“I can definitely do that.” He winces. “After I heal up a bit.”
“Of course,” Iris says. “Let’s ...”
Darkness closes over my head, wiping out the end of her sentence along with my consciousness.
21.
BLUE LIGHT WARMS THE velvety black surrounding me. It shines through my eyelids, comforting like the intense heat at the center of phoenix fire. A small smile settles on my lips as I relax into it, willing to accept this end, willing to let go of my long fight now that Max is safe.
It would have been nice to see him happy and whole and free from that weight he’s carried for so long, nice to have spent a little more time with him to see what might happen. But if my death meant he could live, then that dream was worth giving up.
Time stretches like evening shadows, all full of peace and calm I’m painfully unfamiliar with. Seconds, minutes, hours of rest pass in silence. If this is all there is, I’m content to rest here. No more fire. No more dying.
Then a soft voice fills my quiet cocoon. “Not many would have given up so much for someone they’d known for such a short amount of time.”
I slide open my eyes to see the phoenix I’d met before when I’d reached the end in Shreveport. He smiles at me from across the glowing blue expanse. My sluggish thoughts easily gain energy, coalescing into something logical.
“He was innocent,” I say. “He deserved a chance to live.”
“And you didn’t?” The man asks.
I consider a moment, then say, “I chose to give my life, his was going to be taken from him.”
The brilliance of his wings intensifies along with that smile. “Such a sacrifice deserves a reward.”
Laughter fills my whole spirit. “I kind of doubt I deserve one of those. I’m sure you know what I did to the witch who cursed me. Shouldn’t I pay for that with my life?”
“Have you not paid for it with many deaths?”
I wipe my face, only now aware of the tears streaming down my cheeks. “I guess that depends on who you ask.”
The man hovers closer to me, placing both hands gently on my shoulders, flooding me with his warmth. “Would you like to go back to your life? To be restored? To see your friends again?”
“Restored?” I ask, afraid to hope.
“To your natural phoenix cycle.”
I cover my mouth to soften a sob. It’s too miraculous to be true. There has to be some kind of catch, a caveat. W
ith a little push I’ll find it under the shiny promise. Someone like me doesn’t deserve a second chance, even if I did die countless deaths.
The man’s smile saddens as his eyes widen a fraction. “This is no trick, Faith. No subterfuge. My word is what it is.”
“What happens if I say no?” I ask in a shaking voice. “Where will I go?”
“Rest, young phoenix,” the man says. “Though I can’t reveal all the secrets of the afterlife, you will no longer confront pain or hardship or death. So, as I said before, choose wisely.”
Again, I sniff, turning his offer over in my head. Do I want to leave this comforting place? Do I want to confront the consequences of all the bridges I burned? To confront Yaritza? To face the suffering, exhaustion, lack of justice that characterizes life both in the fae and human realms?
Do I want to see Max again? And Hank? And Sam?
Even if I’ve lost my place in the guild, even if I never reconcile with my family, I have people to live for, community I can still be part of. And I’m not quite ready to leave them just now. Not if I have another chance.
Drawing in a slow breath, I nod. “Yes. I’d like to go back.”
“Well chosen,” the man says. “Go in peace.”
Gently, he presses his fingers to my forehead. Warmth spreads across my body, phoenix song swells in my mind, and the blue light overtakes my vision. When it all fades, a dull ache replaces the weightless comfort of that dark space, but strong arms cradle my body and a soft hand rests on my cheek.
I blink slowly up at Max. Head sagging, tears stream down his cheeks. With a small grin, I gently press a palm into his knuckles. His eyes bug open and a stream of Portuguese flows from his lips as he pulls me into a crushing hug.
“Dude, I didn’t get a word of that,” I say in a strained voice.
Easing me down, Max runs a sleeve under his nose, a smile without pretense chasing away every shadow from his face. “When you didn’t burn up or turn to ash, I thought you were dead dead.”
“I was,” I say, wiping a tear off his chin with a thumb. “But I decided I didn’t like that journey for me.”
“You’ll have to break that one down for me when things settle,” Max says with a laugh.
Carefully, he helps me sit up. Blood still sticks my shirt and jeans to my body, my back still throbs from Iris’ claw attack, and my chest still stings, but somehow, I’m most definitely alive.
And restored, I think. That’s going to take some getting used to.
Iris stands a few feet away, hands clasped under her chin. She doesn’t smile when our eyes meet, but instead releases a heavy sigh. “Thank the Fates.”
“Or the phoenix fates.” I shove myself to my feet. “Max, grab me some wipes out of my bag. I’ve got a mess to clean up.”
After scrubbing the blood off my arms and hands, I place a sleeping spell on Yaritza — just in case — then call Hank. As my cell rings, I track Iris as she paces the dusty floor, still intensely wary of her, expecting a betrayal at any moment. If my strange life has taught me anything, it’s that change comes hard, and people are stubborn. Best to be prepared.
Hank’s greeting over the speaker relieves some of the weight fear presses down on my chest. “Hey kiddo. Please tell me this isn’t your one phone call. I can shell out for bail, but I might have to move around some funds.”
One hand on my forehead, I quiet a sigh. “You two both in one piece?”
“No missing parts,” Hanks says. “You?”
“A little scratched up, but our problem has been taken care of.” A dopey smile stretches across my face, so wide my face hurts. “More than one, actually. I’ll explain later, but right now, we could still use some of that Amazon/gargoyle clout.”
“We’re on our way. Where are you?”
As we wait for Hank and Laurien to get to us, I sit next to Max on the floor, pulling out a water bottle and shoving it into his hands. “That was a pretty stupid move you made back there.”
Max splutters droplets with a laugh. “Hey, it worked didn’t it?” He wipes his damp chin with an arm, shadows smudging the tops of his cheeks as his face falls. “You had to kill yourself again, didn’t you?”
I rest my elbows on my knees. “As I often do.”
Max turns his hand over on his leg and I take it. Blood sticks our palms together. “Sorry you had to waste another one on me.”
Lifting my shoulders, I consider whether or not to tell him what I initially gave up to save his life. It might not matter now that I’ve broken the curse entirely. But part of me wants him to know, to understand, at least in a small way, that his life was worth saving.
“I don’t regret it,” I say. “And now I won’t have to die and come back anymore. You were right. Turns out there was a limit.”
A wrinkle cuts a line between Max’s eyebrows. “So how did you get back?”
I study the dusty floor, turning the complicated truth over in my head. “I was given a choice: start over in the phoenix cycle or come back without a safety net. That’s why I didn’t burn up when I bled out.”
Max’s grip on my hand tightens. “Wow.” He rubs his face. “That’s intense, mama. Why?”
I sock him in the thigh with a knuckle. “Because I kind of like you, dork face. Plus, I promised I’d save you. I don’t like going back on my word. It doesn’t matter now though.”
“What do you mean?” Max asks.
“When I died this time, just a few minutes ago, I was given another chance.” I grin. “Saving you broke my curse.”
Sliding his hand up my arm, Max cups my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. Skin alive with goosebumps, I press my lips to his, soaking in the sweetness of his touch. After all the pain, past and present, the pleasure of this gentle moment curls my toes. Giving up that rest doesn’t feel like such a sacrifice here in Max’s embrace.
His fingers slide into my hair. I scoot closer, pulling up short when the claw marks on my back send red hot pain through me. With a groan, I drop my head onto his shoulder, bracing myself on my fists so I don’t dump any of my weight on his damaged body. He lets out a small grunt as well.
“Sorry,” I say. “I guess battle wounds aren’t exactly conducive to make out sessions. Action movies have lied to us.”
Max cups my cheek, tracing a path with his thumb lightly. “You just wait ‘til a healer fixes us up. I’ll blow your mind.”
Easing back onto my heels, I click my tongue. “I’ll hold you to that, Avila. If there aren’t fireworks, I’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“Mama, I never disappoint.”
Soon, Hank and Laurien arrive, bringing with them a whole slew of paranormal police and a Tribunal member or two. A handful of officers deal with Yaritza and Iris while the rest surround Max and me with a flurry of questions.
Exhausted, I mumble through explanations of the events of the last forty-eight hours as a healer tends to my wounds. As another cares for Max. I keep my focus on him the whole time, afraid that if I look away something might happen to him. After Hank is done with his own testimony, he stays by my side, a steadying presence as always.
My focus sharpens again when the man working on my back says something about a Healing Center. “You shouldn’t need to stay long,” he says. “We just have to make sure these don’t get infected.”
“What about Max?” I ask.
The man guides me carefully to my feet. “He’ll be coming with us as well. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of the both of you. You’ll be good as new in no time.”
“Can Hank come?” Normally, I’d hate the weakness in my voice, the shivering vulnerability, but for once I don’t care.
The healer smiles. “Of course. You are more than welcome to have a family member come along.”
AFTER THE HEALERS LEAVE me alone in my room for the night, Hank goes to get some sleep, I slide out of bed and go in search of Max. Though in much worse shape than I am, he’s not too far down the hall, and grins up at me when I slip through his door and
climb onto his mattress.
Flat on my stomach next to him, I lay silent, content to stare at him. Max traces my cheek with the back of his finger. Most of his minor cuts and bruises have faded, though the deeper, more severe ones remain, ugly black gashes across his skin.
“Where will you go?” I ask. “Now that you no longer have a bounty on your head?”
Max’s chest expands, then slowly deflates. “I have an idea. But I’m going to need some help.”
“The kind of help a bounty hunter might be able to offer?”
“I think it’s the kind only a bounty hunter can offer.” A corner of Max’s mouth slides up into a half smile. “I want to find out what happened to my mom’s other conquests. I know you said the Amazons and Brynn are looking into it, but I want to help. Even with the bounty canceled, or whatever, I don’t think I’ll ever be really free unless I can give some people a little closure. If not real justice.”
I squeeze his upper arm. “I like that. A little closure, maybe some justice. Count me in.”
We both wiggle toward each other, sealing this new contract with a soft kiss, prepared to do whatever is necessary to bring a small fragment of peace into our restless world, and grateful to be able to do it together.
Epilogue
SAM
When Hank’s gone, the wolf has a tendency to pace.
Which means all I want to do is pace. The creature camping out in me turns restless circles as I try to concentrate on bussing tables, dumping all my energy into the sweaty, sticky work. After three nights of the full moon forcing him into the driver’s seat, he usually has a little more chill. But change puts me on edge, which puts him on edge.
As I scrape etouffee off a plate, he growls in my mind. It’s not words exactly, but the meaning is clear as creek water. Helps that it’s pretty much always the same desire. Out. He always wants out. To be free. After three years with him in my head, he’s gotten easier to understand.
It’s also gotten easier to keep him calm when I’m working, but it’s still a battle.
Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame Page 19