by S. D. Grimm
The ache in my chest ripped anew. I gripped his hand back and looked into his eyes. They still clung to life, but just barely. If I let him give up, there would be no making it for him. I squeezed his hands tight, willing him to cling to life. “Listen to me, Wyatt. You’re stronger than this. I watched you save that boy. I—”
“I’m not a hero…Ava.”
“You are to me.” I handed him a dry cloth. I wouldn’t lose him. Not now. Not ever. “Bite down. I’m getting this bullet out.” I pressed our joined hands against my heart. “I will not lose you.” At this moment, something in my heart squeezed. I felt more for this Wyatt than I thought possible to feel for anyone, and it overwhelmed me.
I let his hand go. Trembling, I pulled out my tools: a knife and a flask of whiskey. That, I gave to him first and helped him drink.
Then poured some on the wound. He bit down on the cloth.
My heart clutched. Tears blurred my vision, and I pushed my emotions aside as best I could and cut deep into the wound. His back arched and he screamed into the cloth. But he tried to keep still. Warm blood wet my hands. There. I felt the bullet. My fingers worked from memory and I pulled it free. Wyatt lay silent on the ground as I dropped the bullet, shiny and blood covered, into a cloth and put it in my pocket. I poured whiskey into his wound and he flinched again, much weaker this time.
I grabbed his hand. “It’s out. It’s out.”
He rolled over and threw up.
I cleaned his face. The tear streaks through the dirt, the sweat. He didn’t open his eyes. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. I breathed deep to combat the tightening in my chest. No falling apart yet. I had to get this stitched up. “Wyatt?”
“Thank you, Ava.” He didn’t even open his eyes to speak.
The little boy Wyatt had saved limped over, giving me the clean cloths I’d asked for. Tears streaked his cheeks as he looked at Wyatt. “How is he?”
I wiped a tear from my own eye. “He’s…”
Wyatt opened one eye and a half smile ghosted over his pale lips. “I’m fine, champ. How are you?”
The boy let out a shaky breath then smiled. “Fine. Thanks to you, sir.”
“Good.” He paused, taking a labored breath. “You better get inside.”
“You too, sir.” The boy turned to leave but paused and looked over his shoulder. “Please.”
Wyatt’s mouth opened slightly and then he seemed to force a smile, but it quickly turned real yet sad. “Of course.”
The boy ran toward the house, and I grabbed Wyatt’s hand. “Can you stand?”
His thumb brushed over the inside of my wrist, and the blue in his eyes shone brighter. “Just go.”
I gasped, everything inside of me freezing. He could not leave me now. Not after all this. No. Heat replaced the chill in my core and held his hand tighter. “I’m not leaving without you.”
He cried out as I helped him sit up. I rubbed my hand over his back and then helped him stand. He seemed unsteady but found his balance as I supported him. “You ready? I’ll help you.”
“I don’t—”
My chin trembled even as I tried to keep my jaw firm. “There will be no arguing with me.”
He smiled sadly. “Yes, ma’am.”
I gasped as I pulled out of the memory. It felt so real. The emotions. The way I knew what to do with the medical supplies. But it couldn’t be. I pressed my head into my hands, trying to grasp some form of sanity. It couldn’t be Wyatt. Couldn’t be me.
Tonight he’d asked if I remembered. Remembered what? Pulling a bullet from his chest in the freaking past?
But he’d asked. My heart raced and every limb tingled as if I might faint. This was not possible. But it was happening.
When I looked at him like he was from another planet, he’d brushed it off as something else. Maybe he’d had a strange memory like this, too. And the fact that both of our wounds healed. My hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it grabbed my phone from the bedside table. My mind hadn’t actually disagreed with the decision this time, even though my thoughts and actions seemed to be having a slight internal argument if nothing else. I stared at the phone’s bright light.
I didn’t need to find Wyatt’s number; I’d contacted him recently.
My pulse sped as I stared at his name.
Heard my memory self say it. And with such strange affection. But why not? He seemed like a nice guy. Maybe we were friends. In what? A past life. I certainly did not believe in that. Afterlife, sure. Past lives, not really my thing.
Besides, Wyatt wasn’t exactly the same soul in a different form. He was the same exact person. He even had the same name. It was still him. But there was no way he’d lived that long, right?
I’d officially read too many vampire novels.
Besides, that would mean I’d lived that long, too. Not possible. I remembered my whole sorry life. Well, everything since I was four.
My phone’s screen went dark, and I pressed it automatically. My actions taking charge over my thoughts again.
I typed: You asked if I remembered. What exactly did you mean?
Chapter Ten
Nick
The sun started to peer over the treetops in the woods behind the little house, making the floodlight moot, but I’d started my training session in the dark. My fingers slid effortlessly over the smooth wood of the staff. I jabbed the imaginary enemy, causing it to stumble. Then I hit the side of its nonexistent head. In my mind’s eye, it fell to the ground and I speared it through.
I knew this move-set by heart. And I was good at it. But I could hardly get through a training session any more without it reminding me…of her.
I stared at nothing but summer-thick grass—grass someone had tended to in this strange little house left to my family—and a memory begged at the corner of my mind.
I knew which one, and I didn’t want to see her face right now. Didn’t want to hear her voice. It always came back so clearly with the memories. Just as musical. Just as sarcastic. Even though it happened a couple thousand years ago. A smile tugged my mouth as the memory slammed into me.
Dinah lay on her back in the dry dirt, one hand on the tip of my staff, as if preventing it from being driven into her chest. The material on the tunic she wore—mine by the looks of it, because she refused to let the men tell her she couldn’t be a fighter—already torn. And that bright smile of hers lit her beautiful, dark eyes, even as her smirk mocked my talent.
“Is that the best you can do, Elderson?”
Hot sun beat down on my back. Baked the sandy earth. “I pinned you to the ground, didn’t I?”
In one motion, she pushed against the staff, using my strength and stability on the weapon to slide out from beneath it. Then she held it there, with her locked arm. The smirk turned a bit darker as her legs tangled around mine, compromising my balance. She tugged the staff and pushed my legs, and I fell, hard against the packed dirt.
Before I could react, she slammed her body into me and my back landed on solid earth, Dinah straddled over me, hands on the staff. “You were saying?”
I had a mind to let her stay there, with her looking down at me with those bright eyes. But if I didn’t watch out, she’d bash my own staff into the side of my head like last time. “Truce. I call a truce.”
“Phoenix warrior, and son of the eldest Phoenix, calls a truce with me?” Her eyes practically sparkled as she leaned closer, her grip on my weapon loosening. I didn’t think my blood could course through my veins any faster. Her long, dark eyelashes fluttered. “Your father would be ashamed.”
I straightened my arms and pushed her off of me. She rolled to the side, and now I straddled her, in full control of the staff, which I set aside and let my hands touch the side of her face. “You let down your guard.”
Her eyes softened, but the sparkle remained. So full of life and passion and desire. “I thought you were a man of honor. You called a truce.”
I leaned closer to her and put my forehead against hers, but the grit and sa
nd had stuck to our sweaty skin. She laughed and pushed against my chest. “You will bathe.”
Chuckling, I stood and offered a hand to help her. She took it, and I pulled her up. Her eyes locked onto mine, and she placed her hand against my bare chest—caked in dirt and grime. I felt every pulse from her fingertips. My heart thundered as she leaned closer to my ear.
Her breath whispered against my neck. “Your father is watching.”
I sucked in a breath and pushed her at arm’s length. She turned away to hide a smile and the sound of my father’s sandals against the ground made me turn toward him. Now my heart hammered for a very different reason. “Father?”
“Nicodemous, I was watching your training.”
I gulped in air, aware of Dinah’s shaking shoulders. I fought the urge to smile at her laughter. Father’s gaze sobered me up, quick. “Yes, sir. And…?”
He nodded a few times. “Good form. You are fast—like your mother. Strong”—he smiled—“like me.” He nodded toward Dinah. “But you let things distract you.”
“Dinah was—”
“You let down your guard.”
I sighed.
“I’m sorry, Chief Elderson.” Dinah faced my father, hands clasped meekly in front of her. “I shouldn’t have turned this into a game.”
His eyes narrowed. “I have good news. The council has chosen the two of you to be the guardians of my young twins.”
Young? I was only two years their senior. Then again, I had been born the first time ages ago. This was their first cycle. “Cade and Ava are fourteen now, Father. Hardly what I would call—”
“Their safety is your responsibility.” He lifted a crimson strip of cloth. Purple and blue decorated the edges—colors of our Phoenix tribe. “They are not yet old enough to come with us into this war between our kind.” He placed his hand on my shoulder in a rare display of affection and squeezed. “I am counting on you, son, to make sure your siblings survive to rebuild our race.” He glanced at Dinah. “The elders approve of Dinah. She is fast, witty, and resourceful.” Now his gaze met mine, and I felt the full force of his unspoken disapproval. A pit seemed to hollow out in my stomach and he retracted his hand. “Will you rise and show them that you are also worthy?”
I swallowed, my throat thick. “I will.” My voice cracked and he seemed to wince. “I will, Father. You can count on me.”
“I hope so.” His gaze turned hard, like cut marble. “Tomorrow is the guardian ceremony. The Dark Phoenixes are on the move, and they seek to turn Cade and Ava or destroy them. You must not let that happen. Cade’s powers will return to him fully once the Dark Phoenixes have been vanquished.”
“And their fire?”
My father’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Phoenixes no longer have fire, son.”
I knew what he’d say if I pressed him. He’d tell me the legend I’d learned as a boy: After the first Dark Phoenix rose, he used his fire to destroy humans. The other Phoenixes tried desperately to stop him, but he made a deal with the dark witch of the mountains. In order to make all of his Phoenix powers stronger, she infused him with the sap of the eternal tree, which gets its power from the river Styx. Fire and eternity now flowed in his veins. Bonded to the Phoenix powers he was given. And to any Phoenix who chose to stand with him and instead of protect humanity, act as the sword and hammer of justice, he gave some of this fabled sap.
I didn’t believe the whole sap theory.
But I knew he was altering their powers somehow. Attempting to give them stronger fire.
The Elder Phoenix, wanting to save humanity from the wrath of Dark Phoenixes, declared war, but their fire proved too strong. So the Elder Phoenix sacrificed his life with a final enchantment that would do three things to limit Phoenix abilities: First, it would snuff the fire from every Phoenix living or to be reborn who walked on the earth. Second, it would delete all the Giver powers from any Phoenix born a Giver. And third—possibly the most devastating—it would limit a Phoenix’s ability to return to life where and when they chose. Now, if we were killed, we came back in flame in a time not of our choosing.
Fearing being separated from their families, some Phoenixes protested until the Elder Phoenix promised that those who wanted to remain on a similar cycle could if they bonded themselves.
Since that, I’d died a couple of times. I always came back as a child now—not a mature Phoenix. My memories returned to me when I reached what humans would consider maturity. We returned in flame but couldn’t carry the power of fire anymore.
The Elder’s plan had caught a snag. When he placed it in effect, my mother was pregnant with two new Phoenixes never yet born.
My mother told me he knew of her pregnancy, and that she was to have twins. He told her that her twins would have the power to save the race of Light Phoenixes.
Being twins, one would be born a Taker—able to kill any Phoenix, light or dark—for good. No more cycles. No more rebirths.
The other would be born a Giver—able to raise a human back to life as a Phoenix. They could also take humans, which normal Phoenixes healed from the brink of death, and turn them into Phoenixes.
This power—the Giver power—would remain dormant in my brother until all the Dark Phoenixes were demolished.
They were born for the first time fourteen years ago. And it was up to me to protect them. While the war raged against the Dark Phoenixes who wanted to destroy humankind, my father placed the mantle of protection on me. And now Dinah had been approved to help me.
But Dinah wasn’t a Taker. I was.
“Father, you need me on the front lines. I can destroy a Phoenix forever. Now that Dinah can protect Cade and Ava, I could—”
“No.” His eyes seemed to redden and coat with tears.
“What is it?”
He turned away from me, but as he spoke, I could hear the thickness of his voice. “Gwen escaped. She stands with them now.”
I gasped and my heart seemed to crumble in my chest.
My father shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “The Dark Phoenixes have been targeting our Takers. That puts you and Ava in grave danger. And I need you both, in case we fail. They will be breeching those walls sooner or later, and they have found ways to become stronger than us.”
My heart thundered. The Dark Phoenixes wanted us demolished so they could rule their way. The problem with their way was it did nothing to protect humankind from the monsters we were born to hunt. I couldn’t believe Gwen would join them.
Did she care more for her idea of freedom over protecting others?
“If we don’t make it back—if all of our Takers die—it’s up to you and Ava to eradicate the remainder of the Dark Phoenixes.”
Dinah placed her hand on my arm and stepped between my father and me. “Gwen? You can’t kill Gwen! That would—”
“No. Nicodemus cannot kill Gwen. Ava can.”
Everything inside of me squeezed painfully tight.
Tears coated Dinah’s eyes. “Undo the enchantment then!”
“For what?”
“You know what!” she screamed.
“You should not speak to me so boldly.” My father’s eyes darkened, and he stepped closer to Dinah.
I lifted my arm, pressing the end of my staff against my father’s chest. What possessed me to be so stupid, I wasn’t sure. But I wrapped my other arm around Dinah. Everything inside of me might be imploding, but I knew one thing for certain, I would not stand in the way of Cade’s and Ava’s survival. I would not be the reason the Dark Phoenixes won. I would do my duty. I would protect them. “I will train Ava to defeat all those I cannot kill.”
My father looked down at my weapon and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your mother was right. Your protective instinct is your strongest weapon.”
She said that? My throat ached, and I lowered my staff.
My father simply nodded, but I detected approval in his gaze. “Ava and Cade have had their memories altered. Gwen means nothing to them now.” He searched my face thr
ough narrowed eyes. “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you are the best guardian they could hope for.” He started to walk away.
I kept my voice strong despite the tightening in my chest. “You know I would protect them unto death.”
My words halted his movement, and he turned to look at me over his shoulder. “You know you will have to.”
“Nick?”
Cade’s voice shattered the memory, and I realized my current grip on the staff I’d been training with was causing my hand to ache. I loosened it and turned back toward Cade, the memory of the hot, Grecian sun fading as a chill swept through my core. All this time later, and I still hadn’t been able to complete the mission.
Gwen still returned and hunted us.
“Are you okay?” Cade asked.
“Yeah.” I replaced the weapon on the rack leaning against the house. Then I picked up the other things I’d been training with this morning—nunchucks, crossbow, knives. I stared at the bowl of cereal in his hands. Frosted Flakes. At least some things never changed. “How did you sleep?”
Cade shrugged. “That’s like the first go-to question in every foster home I’ve ever been in.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorway of the open sliding glass back door.
I nodded. “Okay. How about this one.” I held up a knife. “You want to train?”
“Is that real?”
I couldn’t stop my growing grin as he headed to the kitchen sink while wolfing down the rest of his breakfast. He spoke around the flakes. “This is the best day ever.”
“It’ll be the best day ever when you bring Ava here so I can train her.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll find Ava. I’ll bring her into the fold.” The mischief in his eyes made them practically glitter. “Just teach me everything you know.”
That old ache tightened my chest again. I would. I had to. His life depended on it.
Chapter Eleven
Ava
I woke up with my phone shoved underneath my pillow. Apparently, I’d fallen asleep waiting on Wyatt to text me back that he’d remembered. I pulled it out fast and scrambled to look at the screen.