Phoenix Fire

by S. D. Grimm

  Chapter Twelve

  Cade

  School was school no matter which way you sliced it. Just as bad here as anywhere. I closed my locker and headed out the front door. I’d pretty much botched my first meeting with Ava when I’d sent her friend flying into her. Then my second meeting by possibly playing it so cool that she may have thought I was hitting on her. My attempt at remedying that had completely backfired.

  This “you don’t know me, but you want to get to know me because you’ll remember me” stuff was way more complicated and a whole lot creepier than Nick had made it sound during this morning’s training session.

  I twirled my keychain, wishing Nick had let me borrow one of the bikes this morning, not that I was complaining about the Challenger, but apparently he got out of class earlier than I did so riding together wasn’t an option.

  I headed out and leaned against the hood, with a perfect view of the front door, and waited to see if I could catch a glimpse of Ava.

  Our first meeting may not have gone as planned, but at least I had her in my sights. That guy she’d been talking to in bio—couldn’t remember his name for the life of me—he looked familiar. That wasn’t possible, right? Unless there were other Phoenixes running around.

  And why shouldn’t there be? I mean, we couldn’t be the only ones fighting the forces of evil to save humanity, or however Nick put it over oatmeal last week.

  I should really make a list of questions for him. Too many swam in my head daily, and he was so reluctant to speak, let alone offer information.

  A petite Asian girl exited the building, nose in a book. Now her I remembered. I’d bumped into her this morning to get to Ava, then I’d spotted her in my AP English class. If the two of them were friends, she was a good place to start.

  She walked right toward two guys tossing a football. I pushed off the Challenger and headed over to reintroduce myself. I intercepted right before the ball would sail over Ms. Oblivious’s head.

  My backpack brushed against her arm as I snagged the ball. “Watch where you’re throwing.” I chucked it back at the kid who’d shot me a dirty look.

  Then I turned just in time to steady Ava’s friend. “Might want to watch where you’re going.”

  The look she gave me—slightly enraged and slightly grateful—mingled in this one bewildered expression that I found kinda cute.

  “Sometimes life is too short to watch where you’re going.”

  I chuckled without meaning to. “I would be inclined to disagree. If you don’t watch where you’re going, you might miss out on life.” I caught sight of the slightly purple tint to her glasses’ frames. This morning I had assumed they were black.

  Her eyes narrowed and she straightened her spine. “Cade, is it?”

  I smiled. “You remembered.”

  She nodded once, and there it was. That judgy expression I’d come to expect from a certain type of girl. Generally they were brainy, modest, and a little uppity for my taste. But they only saw me as one thing. I had to admit it was a part I played rather well, but if she wasn’t going to get to know the real me, I could give her what she expected. And then some.

  “I’m sorry; I forgot your name.”

  She looked right at me, a deep kind of look. Almost like she wanted to say something witty but was biting her tongue, but also like she didn’t really want to be angry with me. “Yuki.”

  “Pretty name.”

  “Thanks.” Now she smiled. Real and inhibited. But still slightly suspicious. This girl had the innocent yet wary thing down in a way I had never seen before. Intriguing.

  “What are you reading?” I tugged at her book and pulled it out of her hands.

  “Hey!”

  “Are you serious? The Iliad?”

  She snatched it back from me. “Yes. Thank you very much.” She placed a bookmark in the pages and halted to put the book in her backpack.

  I stopped with her. After she replaced the book, she swung the backpack over her shoulder and then held her head high and walked right past me. I caught up. “I’m sorry, did I offend you?”

  She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. That look. A half sort of smile and the smallest amount of pity. She stood there, glasses, hair pulled back in a barrette. White blouse and gray skirt with black knee-high socks. She looked like she was wearing a uniform to a school where we didn’t have uniforms.

  Her glasses flickered away. She seemed to be wearing a kimono for a moment. Only it wasn’t her. It was a memory. And this girl had a white-painted face.

  Blood dripped down her forehead.

  A wave of nausea overtook me and the pain of a migraine slammed into me all at once. I pressed my hands to my head and tried to take a knee.

  It landed rather hard, thankfully on grass and not sidewalk. But I followed fast. Like a sack of rocks. I heard swords clashing. Hooves hitting the street. And a language I didn’t understand, but I knew what she was saying, “The kasa-obake is here. You brought it. You brought the monster!”

  I cupped my head in my hands, willing the pain to go away. It persisted. I watched what looked like samurai fighting. Rain. Flower petals. The scent of cherry blossoms. I didn’t even know how I knew they were cherry blossoms.

  And then it was gone.

  This reality came back, but I felt as though I was underwater, staring up at a bright light distorted by ripples. Sound muffled by the barrier. My head throbbed. If I moved too fast, I might throw up.

  “Cade?”

  That was Yuki’s voice. I tried to stand up and thought better of it.

  “Can you hear me?” she asked.

  I tried to nod, my ears feeling impossibly hot. I just had to make a fool out of myself now, huh?

  “What happened?”

  I knew that voice. Ava was with her. Seriously, I had to get this under control. This time, I made it to standing, but nearly fell over. They both tried to steady me. My stomach churned. I’d be mortified if I puked on their shoes.

  “Whoa. Not too fast.”

  Another new voice joined the mix, and as my vision returned from the nebulous, I recalled that guy from bio. The one Ava hung out with. He steadied me as the world rushed back like the end of a coaster ride.

  “Here.” He pressed a bottle of water into my hands, and I recalled how Nick said it helped. I drank some.

  And my mind cleared. But it tasted different. Familiar.

  I handed it back. “Thanks.”

  “Keep it.” He pushed my hands back.

  “Thanks.” I muttered again.

  Yuki touched my shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Should we call the nurse?”

  “I’m fine.” I took another swig of water. Then I looked at the bottle. “What’s in this?”

  “Just some ginger and mint leaves,” that guy said. “Maybe licorice.” He shrugged. “It helps with headaches.”

  He offered a hand to help me stand. I took it. And as soon as I touched him, his face flashed into my vision. Something similar. Me grabbing his hand. Him helping me up. Unlike the memory with Yuki, this one clearly shared the same face. He handed me a flask. A gun. And he said, “Do what you have to do.”

  “Wyatt…” I’d called him Wyatt. Was that his name?

  I staggered back as reality flushed through me. And I stared at him. All three of them hovered as if trying to help me. I looked at the guy. “Wyatt?”

  “Are you okay?” He leaned closer.

  I looked at the water bottle. “I think this stuff really works.”

  Yuki was the one to fill my vision as she stood in front of me as if criticizing artwork at a museum. “Do you have a doctor we need to call?”

  “What? No, no. This was just a migraine.”

  She tipped her head to the side and nodded slowly. “O…kay. That really knocked you out.”

  Don’t remind me. I offered her my most winning smile and stood. “Nah. I’ve been knocked out. This was nothing like that.” Then I twirled my keys again. “Thanks for the…” T
hey really did seem to care. A strange tightening started to pull at my chest, and I shook that fleeting thought. I backed away, breaking our little circle. “The water.” I held up the bottle and turned on my heel.

  “Cade?”

  Bingo. Ava’s voice. Maybe Nick was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t take her as long to trust me as he thought. Maybe she got migraines, too. I turned to face her.

  “Are you sure you should be driving?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t plan to walk that far.”

  The three of them stood there, staring. Yuki all worried, Ava all perplexed, and Wyatt… He looked a little guarded. As if he knew I’d remembered him. And he probably remembered me. Problem was, I didn’t remember anything else about him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nick

  I lay back on the creeper and pushed myself underneath the car. The sound of Mick’s radio blasted country music through the garage. Country. Really? I guess if the guy owned the garage, he could listen to whatever he wanted, even if the rest of us were grumbling about it. I guided myself into the position beneath the vehicle. Oil changes would be so much easier if Mick let me use the bay, but it was occupied, so it was what it was. This oil filter was screwed on tight. Where was my oil filter wrench? I pulled myself out from beneath the car and sat up, searching my tools for the wrench, and a slightly familiar voice caught my attention.

  I glanced over to see Mick’s son, Mark, talking to that girl from my physics class. My heart tugged in a weird way. Long, dark hair that reddened when the sunlight had hit it through the classroom window this afternoon. Sparkling, brown eyes. The tug in my chest turned to an ache. She reminded me of Dinah.

  I swallowed, hard, and turned away.

  “Hey, Nick.” Mark’s voice caused my pulse to race and out of the corner of my eye, I watched his scuffed steel-toed boots move closer to me. “This girl says her car’s got a ‘weird clunking noise.’ Think you can take a look at it?”

  I glanced up at him and his eye roll. A clunk could mean anything.

  “Nick?” Her face came into clear view, tugging at memories of Dinah. Only she was clearly not Dinah. Her lack of a dimple, smaller nose, and slightly rounder face proved that. In fact, the more I stared at her, the more differences I spotted. Good, because it looked like Mark was pawning her car problems off on me. Bad, because I was openly staring.

  She shrugged her shoulders, hands buried in her leather jacket’s pockets. “Kelsey.” She pointed to herself as if I’d forgotten her name. “We have physics together. You probably don’t remember.”

  Oh, yes, I did. I nodded and picked up a rag, wiping grease off my hands as I stood. “Let’s take a look. Shall we?” I motioned to her car.

  Yeah, she was too sweet and meek to be anything like Dinah. What was I worried about? It didn’t ease the ache in my chest as I followed her to her car. I stared at the Volkswagen Golf and scratched the back of my head.

  “That guy said you knew your way around a Volkswagen.” She bit her lip and stared up at me with big, brown eyes.

  Eyes that sparkled with so much vibrancy.

  I turned my attention away from her. That was why she’d reminded me of Dinah. The glow in the depths of that brown held the same spark for life. I cleared my throat. “Yeah.” I motioned to the vehicle. I hated working on them. No hand space, for one thing. But her pleading eyes softened my heart. “I’ll take a look. Okay?”

  “Thank you!” Her eyes practically beamed, and immediately I regretted my decision.

  “So…do you have a quote or do you want to drive it? How does this work?”

  I chuckled and she started opening her wallet. “Whoa. Wait.” I put my hand out to tell her to put that away before my boss mistook her for one of the area’s rich kids, but I saw a photo. My heart seemed to pause mid-beat. “Who’s that?”

  She glanced up at me, and the suspicion in her gaze made me back up a half step. Then she smiled as though she understood exactly what I was thinking. “Him?” She showed me a photo of her hugging a young man I recognized. “That’s my brother. His name’s Wyatt.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Why the sudden interest in my personal life?”

  “Oh. No reason. I—he just—I thought I recognized him.” Real smooth, Elderson. I motioned to the car again. “Why don’t I take a look?”

  Avoiding Kelsey just got harder if Wyatt was in town. And why shouldn’t he be. If Ava was like a flame, Wyatt Wilcox was a moth—except that moths weren’t typically considered dangerous.

  I had to hope Wyatt would hightail it out of town once he got wind that Cade and I were here. If he didn’t, I might have to have a chat with him, especially if he was hanging around Ava.

  As I revved the Golf’s engine, something in the air felt off. The wind seemed to shift. I glanced out the window, now aware that Kelsey was trying to explain the clunking noise to me.

  I tuned out everything except the scent of death and decay. A shadow puppet walked in daylight. A chill in my bones raised the hair on the back of my neck. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see the monster if I looked straight at it. I glanced out the garage door, waiting to see movement in the shadow the sun cast against from the building. They hid there, in the shadows, undetected.

  They followed their prey, feeding on fears and paranoia. Creating more with their ability to manipulate sound and ghost out of view as long as shadows were present.

  There.

  Movement. Since I knew what I was looking for, I could see it.

  Its black eyes rounded and it skittered back, rubbing gnarled fingers and lowering its horned head submissively. A shadow puppet wouldn’t hunt a Phoenix, which meant one of two things: either it was after Kelsey, or it was one of Gwen’s scouts. I didn’t want it to get away.

  Heart racing, I held up one finger, silently asking Kelsey to stop talking. “Give me one second.” I got out of the car and headed around the side of the building, grabbing a wrench off the tool bench as I went.

  “What’s wrong?” Her voice followed me.

  I picked up my pace and caught it by the slimy tail. The creature shrank away from me, then lunged at me, hissing. I ducked and swung at its exposed chest with the wrench.

  It crouched away, writhing in my grip.

  “What are you doing in broad daylight?”

  “She won’t ressssst until she finds you.”

  Gwen. A tremor rocked my core. If this creature got away, she’d know where I was and we weren’t ready for that. I smashed the wrench into its head and it slumped, dissipating into a shadow. Then gone. That was the thing about shadow puppets, they were easy to kill if you could catch one.

  That was why they always hunted in packs.

  Thankfully, this one seemed to have been alone.

  “Nick?” Kelsey’s shaky voice sent a shot of ice through my veins. I spun to face her. “A-are you okay?” Her eyes were huge. She pointed down the alley. “I came that way. I-I thought I saw something. Did you?”

  I walked back toward Kelsey. “I thought I saw something, too. Weird.” I searched her expression. Was she simply scared because the shadow puppet had frightened her, or because she’d seen me with it?

  “You didn’t see anything?” She kept looking past me. I turned and followed her gaze. “Nothing.” I shrugged and shook my head.

  She breathed deep, seeming relieved. That was a good sign. I held out my arm to guide her back toward the garage. “Nothing.”

  She bit her lip.

  The thing likely hadn’t been after her, but it had been scaring her since she’d gotten here. It needed to feed in order to keep its powers in tip-top shape. She was likely still scared. Once a shadow puppet got ahold of a person, other shadow puppets could smell them for miles, at least until the wound in that person’s aura healed. Not that I could see it, but hers had to be a gaping hole right now, if that one had been feeding off of her. “Listen, my shift is almost over. If you want, I can finish taking a look at your car and give you a ride home.”

  She looked
up at me and the look in her eyes said I’d rescued her. “Really? I mean, I can walk. It’s not that far.”

  I nodded. “All right. But if you change your mind. Let me know.”

  If shadow puppets were feeding on people, there had to be nest around here somewhere. Looked like another hunt was in order tonight. And if Gwen really knew where we were, it was only a matter of time until she was strong enough. I needed to stall Cade’s memories and get in contact with Ava.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ava

  The soft glow of the streetlight illuminated the wall across from my bedroom window. Bright enough for what I was about to do, but not so much that Jean would check on me before she went to bed.

  Good, because I didn’t want her to find out about this. That’s why I’d chosen an older hand towel to lay across the fluffy comforter. A hand towel I could just throw away and hope no one would ever notice it had gone missing.

  I swallowed hard and stared at the knife that rested on the towel on my bedspread. I couldn’t believe I was contemplating doing this. But I had to know. Could I self-heal? Was that one time a fluke? Was I going crazy?

  A little, yeah.

  Just a shallow cut. No major arteries or anything. Just in case I had, in fact, reverted back to being normal and the cut stayed, I wanted it to look like I cut myself while chopping onions or something.

  The problem was, I’d never attempted anything like this, so I wasn’t exactly sure how much pressure to use. Or how bad it would hurt. How long it would take to heal. Plus, I didn’t really want to hurt myself. I just wanted to know if I needed to pursue the answer to the “what is wrong with me” question.

  I picked up the knife.

  Held it against the palm of my hand.

  The cold metal brought every sensation on my skin into sharp focus.

  This was the moment.

  I breathed deep and slid the blade over my skin.

  Burning pain shot through me and blood pooled in my palm. A dark line, nearly black in the room with only a sliver of light, spread along the natural crease in my skin.