Phoenix Rising (Maggie Henning & The Realm Book 1)

by Lisa Morgan

  I made quick work of getting dressed and pulled my hair into a ponytail, and then headed downstairs. I found Liam sitting at the table, coffee in hand while studying the newspaper. I could hear noises in the kitchen and said a prayer that Autumn wasn’t trying to make another breakfast for me.

  “How was your party?” my grandfather asked, not taking his eyes from the paper.

  “It was great.” I smiled, genuine excitement in my voice. “You should have seen what they did with my room. It was by far the coolest thing ever.”

  “So you liked it, for real?” Autumn asked, carrying a tray to the table and setting it down. I quickly scanned what she was offering and said a silent thank you that it was only Frosted Flakes this morning.

  “Really,” I answered with a huge smile, reaching for the cereal box and dumping some in my bowl. “I had such a blast. Definitely have to do that again.” Autumn wore her pleasure like a badge of honor on her face. I smiled just as widely.

  “By any chance,” Liam questioned after sipping his coffee, bending the paper to look over it, “did you girls decide to take a dip in the pool? I found a larger than normal pile of damp towels in the laundry room this morning.”

  I shot Autumn a quick glance, pleading with her to not say a word.

  “No, Liam,” she covered, reading my expression. Her eyes traced from mine to Liam’s.

  “Strange,” he added, finally folding the paper and looking at us both. “The pool gate was open a little this morning when I went out to do laps.”

  “Hmm,” Autumn, a spoonful of cereal in her mouth, responded. I rolled my eyes and continued to eat my breakfast.

  “So, Gramps,” I began after swallowing. He looked down his nose at me, but I went on, eager to change the conversation from one about the swimming pool to just about anything else. “What have you got going on today?”

  “Well, since you’re asking,” he began, seeming to have forgotten his questioning about the towels as he stood from the table. He grabbed a set of keys off the hutch behind him while draining his coffee cup before finishing his sentence. “I am heading out to talk to a Realm contact to try and find out what the revenants are planning now that they know you’re here with us.”

  There went my mood, right in the toilet.

  “Seatha is delivering that notice to His Majesty and will probably not return until tomorrow. Autumn,” he turned his attention to the witch, “the coven sent word last night. They are asking for you to return and assist them in preparations.”

  Autumn sat back, folding her arms. “You can’t get me out of this by any chance, can you?”

  “With much regret, no. It is my understanding that Lady Raven asked specifically for you,” Liam informed her.

  Autumn appeared to brighten and she straightened her elbows on the table as she looked at my grandfather with delight. “No way? She asked for me?” He gave her a nod and Autumn shot from the table.

  “Sorry, Mags! I must see to this!” she said in a hurried apology before she disappeared, leaving her dirty dishes on the table.

  “Who’s Lady Raven?” I asked, picking up the mess left behind and taking it along with my dishes into the kitchen. Liam followed behind.

  “Lady Raven is the leader among the witches, their queen, if you will. She reports directly to the king and no other. For her to request Autumn is a great honor for our young witch.”

  I ran hot water and began washing the bowls and silverware. “So, as shy as Autumn appears, she really is that powerful?”

  “The most powerful we have in this recorded time, just as her mother was.” My grandfather’s face darkened. He looked like he was reliving a painful memory, so I reached out and put my hand on his arm.

  He scowled slightly at the pile of bubbles left behind before he picked up a towel and began to dry the dishes and put them in a cupboard. “And what will you do today, granddaughter?”

  It was a weird sensation to my ears, hearing myself referred to as anybody’s anything. “Michel mentioned something about helping me train today.” I tried to keep my voice even, not wanting to show my grandfather just how excited I was at the thought of spending time alone with the vampire.

  “Did he now?” he replied, giving me a sideways glance.

  I nodded my head in response, but didn’t bother to look at him. I knew my eyes would give something away. “It was mentioned,” I went on.

  “I spoke to him yesterday when you were reading the histories. He agreed to assist in your training. I would have offered it to Luc first, given his expertise on the battlefield, but alas, he was not here,” Liam told me.

  “He’s back now, right?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  “He returned early this morning. He’s sleeping now, but was rather put out about needing to walk the distance to The Trust and Michel’s unrequested use of his Ducati motorcycle.”

  “Why?” I questioned, pulling the sink plug and running cold water to dissolve the remaining bubbles left behind by my chore. “It’s not like he had to go that far.” In truth, knowing now that sunlight couldn’t kill vampires, I had wondered why he hadn’t returned yesterday.

  “The Trust is protected by a particular magick,” my grandfather explained. “The spell masks the exact location of its whereabouts to all, with exception to those wearing a particular charmed necklace. It would appear Luc was not wearing his, and thus, had trouble finding us.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. A picture emerged in my mind, one of a big bad vampire knocking and hiding in the bushes to see who answered the door.

  “How did he make it back then?”

  “Michel sent word, via robin, giving Luc the location. He would have had to stay up all night to allow Luc entrance to the house.”

  Leaning against the sink while drying my hands, I asked, “I was in the garden yesterday, why didn’t I have trouble coming back inside?”

  “You were with Seatha and Autumn,” he answered, reaching into his pocket. “As long as you remained with them, and they were wearing their necklaces, you could enter with them.”

  He took his hand from his pocket and a silver chain dangled between his fingers. “This is for you. It has been charmed to allow you to find your way here.”

  I took the necklace in my hands to closer examine the small charm that hung from it. It was a simple silver oval. Flipping it over, I saw shapes inscribed on the back. I let my finger rub across it and just like in the book, the shapes changed and formed words.

  Your Strength is the Power that Carries Me

  Through.

  “It’s pretty,” I remarked. “Would you help me put it on?”

  My grandfather took the chain from me, and I lifted my ponytail so he could fasten it. When I felt it pull against my neck, I let my hair fall from my hands and reached to hold the charm in my fingers. He seemed to falter with whatever he was going to say. I turned to look at him, letting the necklace hang.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, seeing emotion welling in his eyes.

  “It is so very good to have you home.”

  I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him. He did the same, holding me in a tight embrace. “So like your parents. They would be so proud of you,” I heard him whisper lovingly.

  I pulled back and smiled at Liam. “I hope so.”

  “Of that, I am positive,” he answered, rubbing my shoulders when he pulled away. He stared at me for a few seconds, as if to accentuate the honesty in his words.

  “Well,” he smiled, glancing to his watch. “I’m headed off. Michel was in the library when I rose this morning. You can probably find him there.” I nodded and watched Liam leave the kitchen to meet with his contact.

  After double checking that everything had been put away, I made my way back through the dining room and paused in the foyer, watching Liam’s car drive off. I played with the charm I wore as I finished the short trip to the library. The door was wide open and I entered, looking around for Michel.
The furniture had been moved. All but the settee had been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving the hardwood floor without obstacle.

  “Good morning,” I heard from behind me. Turning to see Michel left me feeling breathless again. He seemed to be having that effect on me.

  “You slept well?” he asked. He was almost glowing from the sunlight that filtered through the window behind him.

  “Ah …” Stammering again, Maggie? Get a grip! “Yeah, I slept really well, thanks. How about you?”

  Michel waved off my question as he padded past me. “I’ll sleep later.”

  If he hadn’t slept yet, his demeanor didn’t show it. His stride was as confident and alluring as it had been when I first laid eyes on him.

  Michel remarked, not looking at me, “You seem, distracted, perhaps? Are you sure you’re well rested? You need your wits about you if you are to learn anything.”

  “I’m fine,” I stated, attempting a similar disinterested tone to Michel’s. It wasn’t nearly as convincing.

  “Very well then. What would you like to learn first? Swordplay maybe? Many of the Phoenix women were masters with the blade.”

  It was just the two of us, alone. He was acting differently from the guy who’d been so playful hours ago, tossing me in the pool in my pajamas, but maybe this was normal? What did I know? My extensive wealth of information in the guy department couldn’t fill a business card.

  “How about we start with some information?” I requested.

  “Information?” he asked. That drew his focus. “What would you like to know?”

  Okay, that was easier than I’d expected it to be. “How about you start by telling me yourself that you’re a vampire?”

  “Okay,” Michel said, making his way to the small couch and sitting. He patted the empty spot next to where he sat, and I joined him.

  “Maggie,” he spoke with a theatrical Eastern European accent, “I am vampire.”

  I raised my eyes to him, but he couldn’t continue to act serious. He laughed, shaking his head at me.

  God, his whole face smiled when he laughed.

  In spite of the cooler temperature in the room, I felt a sudden urge to fan myself and proclaim a case of the vapors.

  “I’m sorry, but you had such a serious look on your face, I couldn’t help myself,” Michel apologized. I gave him my very best try at a stone-cold serious expression, but looking into those eyes … I just softened into a puddle and smiled back at him.

  “So,” I said, staring at my sneakers. They weren’t actually my sneakers, but a pair that fit that I’d found in the closet of my room. They were comfortable enough, but I was used to the cheap ones, not these swoosh carrying colorful kicks. Michel waited patiently while I told myself to focus. “Vampire. What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means I need blood to survive. I was under the impression that the girls told you all of this last night?” Michel replied, a more serious tone to his words.

  “Were you listening in on us?” I asked, incredulously.

  “Of course not,” Michel answered, indignation and hurt in his voice. “I merely meant that Seatha so desperately loves to gossip. I naturally assumed she’d tell tales of me.”

  “Well, not too full of yourself, are you?” I asked, standing from the couch and walking to gaze out the window at the garden. “What makes you think you’re interesting enough for us ladies to talk about you?”

  I felt Michel behind me suddenly, and I turned, shocked by how close to me he was.

  “Am I not … interesting, Maggie?” he asked, his eyes focused on mine as he waited for an answer.

  Oh, you betchya.

  I took a few steps away and faced him again. “Don’t you respect a person’s personal space?” I shot back, but with no real feeling behind the words.

  With a bow, Michel offered, “My apologies. I will try to respect your personal space.”

  No! Don’t you dare!

  “Thank you.” I shoved my thoughts to the side. Michel’s wicked grin crossed his features, and I had to think fast to find some way to distract myself before I became Mena to his Count.

  “Besides being a vampire,” I quizzed him, looking at the art that hung on the walls. Dogs playing poker, really? “You are also a prince.”

  “I am,” he responded flatly.

  “So that must make you a chick magnet, right?” Even as the words left my mouth, I dreaded what his answer would be and wished I could take them back.

  “Not exactly,” he replied, and I quietly let out a sigh of relief. “True, I do not dance alone, but as of yet, I have not found a female that captures my attention enough to sway me.”

  Damn.

  “But,” he went on, striding over to me and examining the same painting of the German Shepherd with a full house in his paws, “I am hopeful that the situation will change itself in the very near future.”

  My pulse quickened, and I couldn’t help but picture myself, hand in the air like an eager school girl, shouting, “Oh, oh, oh! Pick me! Pick me!”

  “Shall we begin, or do you have more you wish to ask of me?” Michel asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

  I could think of a few things …

  “No, I’m good,” I lied.

  “Very well,” the humor was still there, “I thought we could begin with something simple, as you are very uneducated in this area.”

  “Sounds great,” I lied again.

  Michel nodded his approval and made his way to a table at the far end of the room. I couldn’t help but think of the old expression I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave. Michel shot out a loud burst of laughter, and for a few seconds, I panicked, thinking I’d actually said the words aloud.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Please don’t say it, please don’t say it!

  Michel coughed as he turned back toward me. “I just thought of a joke I’d learned a long time ago. It is nothing important.”

  “I know the feeling,” I replied, looking to what Michel was now holding.

  Two swords—one in each hand. The weapon in his left looked old and war scarred. The blade shone dully and looked like a prop from a barbarian movie. The other one, however, was beautiful.

  The hilt of the sword was simple enough, wrapped with leather that appeared well worn. The blade was etched in something black, filigree designs twisting to the point. It was almost as stunning as the vampire that held it out to me.

  “For you. Liam retrieved it late last night and asked me to train you with it.”

  “What the hell do you expect me to do with that?” I asked, staring at the tiny sword Michel held in his hand.

  “It’s a fae made sword,” he explained. “They are made to feel light when the fae fly. As you have seen with Seatha, they are a small and delicate appearing race of beings. But make no mistake, I am hard pressed to think of a more vicious group when on the battlefield.”

  “What about vampires?” I ribbed.

  He paused, mockingly contemplating my words, “maybe I can think of one group more equipped for fighting.” Michel walked to me, placing the sword in my reluctant hand.

  “Wait,” I begged as Michel walked behind me, “we’re starting with this? Isn’t there like, I don’t know, a Weapons 101 class I should take first? Maybe a cliff notes book or Sword Fighting for Dummies I could read before we jump right into bloodshed?”

  He slid his hand over mine, using his actions to teach me how to hold the hilt. I swear I could feel his gaze on my back.

  “You need to widen your stance some,” he instructed, gently prodding me to spread my feet wider. “Bend at your knees.” Again, using his body against my own to force it to mimic his motions. My heart quickened at his nearness, and a giddy schoolgirl giggle escaped my lips. Frustrated, Michel backed away, taking the sword with him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked sternly.

  I reddened in my cheeks. “It’s nothing, never mind. Give me the sword, come on.”
I wanted to show him I could do this, even though I’d never held a toy sword, let alone a real one. Knowing that a revenant had been playing mommy for ten years explained why that was probably the case.

  “Just think of it like dancing,” Michel explained.

  “I can’t dance,” I admitted, facing the vampire; my humor now gone as another bout of embarrassment took over. “Never was invited to a dance at school or anything, so I never had a reason to learn.”

  “Well then, that, too, is something we shall have to rectify,” Michel flirted. Gently, he threw the small sword to me. It was heavier than it appeared to be when I’d teased him, but I had no doubt it weighed far less than the one he was sporting.

  “Wow,” I exhaled, examining the sword, trying to determine where the weight was in such a delicate piece. I twisted the weapon in my grasp and examined its construction and the inky adornments on the blade.

  “Okay, remember how I just showed you to stand?” Michel taught. I nodded my head. Part of me thought, for a moment, that a smarter girl would lie so this adorable guy could come snuggle up again, but I could never be accused of thinking fast on my feet.

  Michel continued, raising his left arm behind his head in a fighting stance, “Attack me.”

  “What? Are you crazy? I could hurt you.”

  Michel seemed to be amused at the idea of me causing him any harm. “Sweetheart,” he laughed back, “you aren’t going to hurt me. Now, attack.”

  “I might,” I mumbled defiantly under my breath.

  I took a few practice swings in front of me. The weapon felt nice in my hands. I felt powerful, more so than I ever had in my life. I looked to Michel. He stood still, his arm raised behind him. He was so hot, I really hoped I didn’t ruin that handsome face of his. I held the sword in front of me and ran at Michel, but slowed and stopped a few feet short.

  Michel huffed, letting his arm drop to his side, and stood straight. “And what the hell was that supposed to be?”

  “I said I don’t want to hurt you.”