The Mephisto Mark: The Redemption of Phoenix

by Trinity Faegen

  “What if you found an Anabo intended for you and you didn’t get along with her?”

  “Is this a general question, or are we getting into Phoenix and his fucked up head?”

  “Just generally. Like, what if you found an Anabo who wasn’t into music at all?”

  He shook his head. “Never happen. Everybody else in the world can go around and look for somebody to hang out with. Sometimes they pick wrong. They can move on and find someone else. For me and my brothers, because Anabo are so rare, we get one shot, maybe two. God wouldn’t send us an Anabo we aren’t compatible with.”

  “What if you don’t ever love her?”

  He looked away from the nightclub door to focus on me. “The salient question is if she will love me.” He rubbed a hand across his short hair. “Can we stop talking about this? It bugs the shit out of me.”

  “Why?”

  “I hate sappy crap. The idea of love is ridiculous anyway. It’s a construct dreamed up by humans to put a nice face on sex. Getting naked with somebody is sanctioned if there’s some deep emotional attachment, but really, it’s two people making babies. Instinct and nature are not love.”

  I wondered what it was when a grown man raped a twelve-year-old?

  Quickly shutting down that line of thinking, I asked, “How’d you get to be such a cynic?”

  “My father’s the dark angel of death, best buds with the devil. How do you think?” He took a deep breath and stared across at the door to the nightclub, watching each person who came out. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Wow. Testy much? “Okay, so I won’t talk about it.” I followed his gaze to the nightclub door. “If he’s never seen you before, how could Viktor know who you are?”

  “Eryx schools his Skia about us, makes them memorize our photos, tells them how we operate and how we dress. They know. They always know. And they typically run, but sometimes, they stand and fight. If he runs, we’ll chase, but if he turns on me, we’re out of here. Just stay close.”

  I nodded and silence fell. It began to snow and I was somewhat mesmerized by the beauty of the flakes in the color of the lights when the nightclub door opened. I failed to notice when Zee slid an arm around me, but jerked out of my reverie when he turned me and began walking. I saw a group of six guys ahead of us, some short, some tall, but otherwise homogenous in dark coats and fur hats. Despite nighttime, I could see them very well in the lights of the city reflected from the low cloud cover. If I hadn’t already known they weren’t like an ordinary group of guys, I’d have questioned why they were so quiet. They’d just left a nightclub at half past one in the morning, but instead of laughing, or arguing, or singing, or talking too loud – all the things drunk people do – they were silent.

  We followed several meters behind until they came to a well-lit boulevard and turned right. At the corner of the building, Zee slowed to a stop and peeked around. “They’re about to go inside an apartment building. Hang on.”

  I waited, then went along when he grabbed my hand and turned the corner. The group was at the entrance to a building down the block, talking beneath a streetlight. The tallest had his back to us, gesticulating, clearly trying to convince the others to go inside. “Is that Viktor?”

  “Right. His pigeons are having second thoughts.”

  There were very few other pedestrians, and traffic was light; mostly taxis and a lumbering bus that left smelly diesel fumes in its wake.

  Zee stopped beneath a tree in the sidewalk and reached inside his coat to withdraw a pack of cigarettes. “I’ve never been much of a smoker,” he said as he lit one, “but it gives me an excuse to loiter while I’m spying.” He held the pack out to me. “Want one?”

  Remembering the stench of old smoke on Emilian, I swallowed the bile in my throat and shook my head. I moved to stand upwind of him.

  It was freezing cold and I wished I’d remembered to pick up the mittens Mercy had bought for me. I shoved my hands deeper in my coat pockets and darted looks at the group. Zee continued to smoke. “Will you follow and try to talk them out of pledging?”

  “Definitely not. We’re never about that, Mariah. People do what they do and we’re forbidden to interfere with free will. If those guys decide to follow Eryx, my only interest in them will be taking them out so they can’t sucker more people, then die and help Eryx grow stronger.”

  “If you’re not going to interfere, why are we standing here? That’s obviously where Viktor lives, so now you know.”

  “I don’t know for sure. It might be one of the others’ building. The shortest guy is a lost soul; Viktor’s bait. He’s telling those guys how awesome his life is since he pledged.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can hear him.” He looked down at me. “We can see in the dark and hear things even dogs can’t hear. Just be patient. They’re all about to say yes and go inside, then I’m going to get closer and check it out to see if there are other lost souls who live there.”

  “Are we going inside?” I didn’t want to. Real bad, I didn’t. This was beginning to creep me out.

  “No, we won’t go inside.”

  “Then how will you know if there are more?”

  “I just know. It’s kind of like a sixth sense. I can put my hands on the building and know how many of Eryx’s are inside.”

  “That’s . . .” I was going to say weird, but didn’t. “Interesting.”

  “It’s fucking weird.” He tossed the cigarette to the snowy ground, pulled me toward him, and embraced me.

  “Is he looking?”

  “He turned and is now facing us.”

  “Does he see us?”

  “Yes, but we look like lovers under a tree.” He bent his head and nuzzled my neck, murmuring into my hair, “Just put your arms around me and stay like this for a minute.”

  Not liking his nearness but understanding the reason, I complied, and at the same time, peeked around him to see what the group was doing.

  That’s when I saw Viktor’s face.

  Time stood still.

  My heart stopped.

  The boxes in my head exploded.

  Viktor was my worst nightmare come to life. Every memory I’d so carefully avoided for so many years drowned me in a tidal wave of horror and agony. I sucked in a breath and nearly climbed inside Zee’s coat, clutching his shirt, gasping for air.

  “What the . . . Mariah, what’s wrong? Jesus! What?”

  “We have to go now! Please, please, get me out of here!” I couldn’t breathe. I was dizzy with fear and disbelief.

  “Tell me.”

  “Emilian,” I breathed. “It’s Emilian.” I didn’t understand how, couldn’t manage even one coherent thought. All I knew was that the devil stood less than fifty meters away. “Oh, God, it’s Emilian!”

  “Who the fuck is Emilian?”

  I held bunches of his T-shirt in my hands and went over the edge. “Zee, please, you’ve got to take me back! Now!”

  “I will, as soon as you tell me—”

  Pushing away from him, I turned and took off running, mentally screaming, my hands curled into fists of rage and terror, cutting my palms. How could it be? I saw him die. How could he be here, in Moscow, alive and well? Had he seen me?

  I heard heavy footsteps pounding behind me. He was coming closer. He would catch up to me, grab me, hit me, and drag me into the dark and hurt me that way. Oh, God, oh, God, please, please help me!

  His hands were on me and I sobbed aloud before I closed my eyes and went limp. I couldn’t be angry, couldn’t show fear. It would be so much worse. He’d get out his knife. He’d strip off my clothes and scream ugly horrible things while he cut me.

  Desperately trying to go away in my head, I heard his annoyed voice. “Don’t ever run like that again. You have no idea what could happen to you.”

  He was already in a rage. Because I ran. Because I didn’t make it easy for him. My body moved when he picked me up, but I barely noticed. I was at home, on
the braided rug with Beet. On the chair next to the fire, Mama darned socks and sang. I wished she could hear me. I wished she could save me from what was about to happen. I called out to her, but she didn’t hear, didn’t stop singing.

  Turning my head, I saw Phoenix sitting on Papa’s chair, reading a book. “Help me,” I whispered, and he looked up from the book and smiled, soft and gentle. “Come sit with me and I’ll read to you.” I got to my feet and went to him and he cradled me in his lap and read words I didn’t understand, but I didn’t care. I rested my head on his shoulder and inhaled the sweet scent of oranges while I waited for Emilian to be done. I prayed that this time, I would die.

  Chapter 10

  ~~ Phoenix ~~

  I was sitting in the Green Room at the White House, frustrated with planning this über-complicated takedown, when Zee appeared. Breathing hard, he looked as freaked as I’d ever seen him. “Come home. Now.”

  Standing, I transported to the front hall and as soon as Zee was there, he nodded toward the stairs. “Mariah. Something’s very wrong with her.”

  I didn’t ask any questions before I popped upstairs to her room. She was in a chair by the fireplace, arms around her knees, curled into a ball of fear and misery, her very dark eyes blankly staring at nothing. My heart plummeted to my boots.

  Olga sat beside the chair, and when I moved closer, she meowed. Mariah instantly drew herself into a tighter ball, and whispered, “Please, God, let it be over.” Olga, I realized, was her warning system. She meowed when someone came near, waking Mariah so she knew what was about to happen to her. Except Mariah wasn’t asleep right now. She was somewhere else, but she wasn’t unconscious. What the hell had sent her off like this?

  Her slender body shivered, and my breath caught. I scooped her up, turned and sat, settling her in my lap, wrapping my arms around her. Her arms twined around my neck and she nestled her head in the crook. She was still in another place, but I could feel the tension ease out of her. Her scent was so slight, I almost couldn’t catch it.

  Zee stood a few feet away, looking shell-shocked.

  “Tell me what happened.” I didn’t think Mariah was aware of her surroundings, but just in case, I spoke in English.

  With his eyes on Mariah, he told me how they spent the past hour. I was so freaked, I couldn’t muster much anger for Zee. That would come later. For now, my only concern was Mariah. “Do you have a photo of Viktor?”

  He handed me his phone. Viktor was a gaunt, gray-faced man in his forties with hard, dark eyes. I punched the contacts button and hit the one for my father. As soon as he answered, I said, “I need your help.”

  “Can it wait?”

  “No.”

  Seconds later, he was there, dressed in his usual black suit and red tie, holding a small gray dog under one arm and his phone in the other hand. He looked from my face to Mariah’s and back again, and maybe I imagined it, but he looked pleased. “What can I do for you?”

  I held up Zee’s phone. “Emilian?”

  He peered at the photo before shaking his head. “Dead ringer, but no. Emilian had green eyes and a scar on his cheek. Who is this guy?”

  “Viktor Petrov.”

  M slipped his phone into his pocket and handed the dog to Zee. “Give him to Titus. I just took his master out and accidentally took him with me. He can’t go back now.” The dog yipped and M petted its head while he was thinking, searching the bank of knowledge he had available to him to know details of every soul on Earth. Then he looked at me. “He’s a relative of Emilian’s. An uncle on his mother’s side.” He gave me a quick biography of Emilian’s immediate family and ended by looking at the photo again. “The resemblance is striking.” He glanced at Mariah, who was still in another world. “She saw him?”

  “Yes. In Moscow, with Zee, who was tailing him.”

  Zee was still pale as a ghost. “Who is Emilian?”

  M said in his dry, just-the-facts voice, “Her guardian. He abused her from the moment she went to live with him when she was six, and raped her repeatedly from when she was twelve until he died when she was fourteen. He stroked out right after he lit a cigarette, fell on his bed, and it caught fire.” He looked at Zee’s wide, horrified eyes. “This goes no further. She’s had a bad enough time without everyone in this house talking about it.” He turned to me again. “I suggest you don’t take her off the mountain again until she’s come to terms with what he did to her.”

  I glared at Zee. “Everyone was on orders to make sure she doesn’t leave.”

  “Because of Eryx,” Zee said defensively, “and he’s so wrapped up in mooning over Jordan, he’s not paying any attention to Mariah.”

  M said, “Eryx is the least of her worries. What’s in her head is far more dangerous and frightening than Eryx.”

  “Are you serious?” Zee was incredulous. “Eryx will kill her.”

  “Look at her, son. Do you think she’s afraid of death?”

  M came close and bent to gently stroke her hair. I watched in stunned disbelief. Not since our mother died had I seen my father express anything close to affection.

  Her soul must have recognized who he was because she looked up at him with relief and whispered, “I’m ready to go.”

  “It’s not your time,” he murmured.

  She leaned her head into his hand and closed her eyes. “He came back.”

  “No, he’s never coming back.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” He moved his hand across her face and she instantly went to sleep, her head falling against my shoulder. He focused on me, his expression stern. “Whether you claim her or not, she’s your responsibility.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “What do you plan to do to help her?”

  “I’ve been reading books about survivors and how they make peace with their pasts.”

  “And?”

  “It involves a lot of talking. Getting it out and allowing herself to feel all the rage.”

  M glanced at Mariah. “I’m sure talking it out will be helpful, but she’s a born warrior. Teach her to fight. Let her work the rage out of her system. Show her how to protect herself.”

  “She’ll never need to protect herself again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Jerking his gaze back to me, he was angry. “Like in Moscow?”

  He’d mined her memory to see what had happened. I wasn’t sure what he’d seen that made him this angry, but I knew Zee and I were walking a narrow line. “Zee was with her all the time. She was never in any danger, except in her own head.”

  “Exactly. She ran and Xenos chased. She thought he was Emilian, and if she knew how to fight, she would have turned to stand her ground. She would have realized he wasn’t the threat she thought. Instead, when he caught her, she was so terrified, her mind slipped right off the edge.” He bent again and ran the back of his fingers across her cheek. “You and your brothers suffer. I know this. But nothing you’ve lived through in a thousand years of life could help you understand what she has endured, because you’ve never been overpowered or helpless. Let her use all that rage to her advantage. Teach her to fight.”

  “She’ll be a Lumina,” I said, hiding my astonishment at his gentle compassion for Mariah. “They never fight.”

  He unbent and said, “She’s not cut out to be a Lumina. Make her Mephisto.”

  That pissed me off. “Since when do you make that call?”

  In a blink, he was hovering over me, holding my face in his hands. “Since you seem incapable of doing what’s in the best interests of everyone on this mountain, including Mariah. Let it go, Phoenix.” He shook my head, angry and frustrated with me. “Enough.”

  “You know why I can’t,” I whispered.

  “I only know why you won’t, but somewhere along the way, you lost yourself and all the reasons it mattered. Of what use is a one-armed man who cuts off his other arm to make amends? His sacrifice doesn’t make him a martyr. It makes him a liability.” Blowing me away completely
, he kissed my forehead before he disappeared.

  Holding the little dog, Zee collapsed in the chair opposite mine. “I’m sorry,” he said, staring at her. “You no doubt want to kick my ass into next week.”

  “Forget it,” I said. “Just keep an eye on her when I’m not around and make sure nobody else takes her off the mountain.”

  His eyes were filled with sorrow. “This is rough, brother.”

  I stood and carried her to the bed, laying her down on her pillow. I pulled off her boots and moved her around to remove her coat. After I spread the throw at the end of the bed over her, Olga jumped up and curled into the curve of her belly. Her arm went around the cat and I’d swear she seemed more at ease. I knew she’d be out of it for several hours. M had put her under as he’d done with us at different times in our lives, sending us to a level of unconsciousness that allowed rest without dreams, without memory.

  Still bemused by his affection for Mariah and the kiss he gave me before he left, I started a fire in the grate, then sat down again. The dog was falling asleep in Zee’s lap.

  “I bought her a TV,” he said. “Planned to install it when we got back from Moscow. A couple of nights ago, we watched UP and she cried.”

  “Sasha cries every time she watches it. Must be a girl thing.”

  “I guess.” He looked toward the fire. “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay, but can I just say one thing?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Still staring at the fire, he said, “I agree with M.”

  “There are things you don’t know, Zee. It’s best this way. Leave it alone.”

  “Best for who? Not her.”

  “Yes, for her. I can’t give her what she needs.”

  “She could be Mephisto and not yours.”

  “If she’s Mephisto and not mine, she has no one and no possibilities. She can’t be with a human, or a Lumina, or any of our brothers. Look at who she is. Imagine her turning into some warrior princess, fighting Skia, taking out the lost souls, then coming back here to a room of her own with nobody to share her life with. She’d suffer as we have and hate the loneliness, except worse because more than anything, she needs somebody to love her.”