Phoenix Rising (Maggie Henning & The Realm Book 1)

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Phoenix Rising (Maggie Henning & The Realm Book 1) Page 18

by Lisa Morgan


  “Get up,” he barked. I lifted my head to look at him. His eyes were bright green, his pupils so thin they were barely distinguishable, and his face was twisted, distorted. He looked—predatory.

  I glanced past him when I thought I saw a dark figure and noticed Luc had entered the room. He stood by the doorway, his motorcycle helmet in his hand.

  “I was going for a ride,” he said, no emotion in his voice as I stood, looking back at Michel, whose eyes hadn’t moved. “Thought I’d see if you needed anything.”

  “Again!” Michel forced, ignoring his brother.

  “What are you doing?” I pleaded, not hiding my fear.

  Michel didn’t wait for me to ready myself before lunging, his fangs bared at me. Instinctively, I raised my own weapon over my head. It spared me from having Michel’s implanted in my skull.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I shot out as he drew the sword away from me.

  “You foolish girl! Do you think you can read a few books and dance around, mimicking a few pictures, and keep yourself alive, let alone help in any way?”

  “I—”

  “You what?” Michel’s voice was full of disdain. “You think you’ll always have a hero around to give you a ride home or keep you safe from the Revs? Keep dreaming, Maggie. Heroes aren’t real. No one will sweep in on horseback to rescue you. There are no such thing as white knights and dark villains. The world is comprised only in shades of ash.”

  “Michel?” I took a step closer, hoping to reason with him, to find out what caused this change. “I have a lot to learn, but—”

  “You have no idea what’s ahead, do you?” he interrupted me again. I stopped, looking for some hint of the feelings he’d shown me that morning, but there was no sign of anything; just emotionless pits where those beautiful eyes had been.

  Michel closed the distance between us, so close our noses almost touched as he sneered down at me. “Death. The revenants are death, Maggie. They have every intention of capturing you; of bleeding you dry. Anyone or anything in their way will be cut down like a blade of grass beneath a lawnmower.”

  I tried to find my voice, but there was nothing I could say to him.

  “I know,” Michel taunted, mock upset in his voice as he backed away and straightened. “You didn’t know. You know now, so do something about it! Fight!”

  I was stunned. This was the guy I’d tormented over, wondering if I were coming across badly to my grandfather for hugging him. This was the one who made my pulse race when he drew my mouth to his? This had to be some kind of mistake.

  I took a careful step forward, unwilling to give up on him yet. Michel thrust out his sword at me. I twisted away from the blade in just enough time to avoid a direct strike. I heard the sound as the metal sliced through the fabric of my shirt, leaving a slit that exposed my left side.

  My eyes shot to his as my heart staggered inside my chest, my breathing shallow and uneasy. I took the hem of my ruined shirt in hand and studied it, seeing how close I’d just come to serious damage. I couldn’t believe it! Another inch closer, a half a second slower, and he would have filleted me like a bass.

  “Fight,” he ordered, but his voice had lost that demanding edge. His expression softened as he looked at me, remorse teasing the edges of his eyes.

  I dropped my sword to the floor, the sound of the metal landing against the hardwood planks echoing through the room.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” I shouted, anger beginning to build in me mixed with confusion at his changing mood, “but I’m not walking away!”

  “Then pick up your damned weapon,” Michel sneered, all pretense of civility or regret evaporating. “You wish to live? Then kill me, Maggie.”

  I tried to speak without making a move closer to him, “I thought …”

  Michel sighed, finally lowering his weapon. “You want to consider a future with me? Based on a single kiss we shared? There will be no future if you get yourself killed!”

  “This isn’t you,” I begged, taking a careful step toward him. His eyes were normal now, but as I got a closer, they changed. He raised his sword and pushed it against my throat, stopping me.

  “This is exactly who I need to be,” Michel spoke coolly.

  I need … I thought to myself, looking to Luc standing just inside the doorway. He’d straightened at witnessing the sight between his brother and I, but had made to move to intercede.

  “You what?” Luc asked, no doubt listening in to my thoughts as he watched me.

  “I need to get out of here,” I determined aloud. I glanced at Michel, whose face had returned to normal. His eyes had grown tender, and in spite of his actions, were silently begging me to stay. He lowered the weapon from my throat and stepped back away from me.

  I needed to escape, to clear the confusion that fogged my mind. Still reading my thoughts, Luc walked to me, stopping to glance at his brother as he offered me his hand.

  “Come on,” Luc teased. “I won’t tell.”

  Without waiting a moment longer, I took the hand he offered and let Luc pull me toward the library door.

  “Maggie,” Michel whispered.

  I turned to look at him, pausing both Luc and I. Michel’s face was flat, his eyes glassy. The vampire gave me an unsure smile and slowly, he offered me his hand.

  I stared at his palm from where I stood, not venturing closer to him. Slowly, Michel lowered his arm to his side, seeing that I made no motion to come to him.

  “I need to get away, damn it! Michel, you want me to be something that I can’t possibly be. How do you expect me to save the world if I can’t even save my sanity?”

  I didn’t wait for Michel’s opinion. Turning my back to the prince, I rushed to the front door and down the steps to Luc’s awaiting motorcycle before I changed my mind.

  Luc was beside me quickly, handing me a helmet. “This will help.”

  I took the helmet from him and tossed it onto the lawn. With a short chuckle, Luc swung his leg over the bike and kicked it to life. I could feel Michel’s eyes on me from the doorway. Without looking back, I mounted the motorcycle behind Luc, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  With a twist on the accelerator, he pushed the bike down the driveway. I spared a glance at Michel, just standing there on the front porch and watching us. For a moment, a pang went through me, and I could feel his voice echo in my mind.

  Don’t do this, his whisper pleaded with my thoughts.

  “Did you say something?” Luc questioned over the roar of the engine when we hit the pavement at the end of the driveway, turning slowly onto the road.

  “Yeah,” I answered, squeezing tighter around his waist. “Go faster.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Luc smirked, seeming pleased with my request. The bike engine roared louder, and we shot down the road like a bullet.

  At first, my breath was stolen from me as I sat perched behind Luc, his motorcycle at what I assumed was full throttle. The trees blurred as we rocketed past, too quickly to distinguish one variety from another. The road ahead was lit by nothing more than the one headlight and the moon above us.

  A surge of something, adrenaline maybe, rose from deep inside me and I couldn’t keep the smile from crossing my face.

  “Is this all it can do?” I taunted to his ear, knowing the response I’d illicit.

  Luc’s head shook slightly from side-to-side as he took one of his hands off the handlebars for only a second and squeezed my own tighter around him. The motorcycle skipped forward, and with little warning, we were racing even faster.

  My hair whipped behind me and the air rushed at my face. The smells of the forest filled my nose in quick succession. Trees, grasses, flowers, all came and went in a sensory frenzy as Luc accelerated.

  For the first time in my life, I actually felt like I was my own person. The cares that had been thrown at me temporarily washed from my mind. There was only now; only the wind, the road, and the roar of this bike. Daringly, I freed my hands from Luc’s
middle, and he backed off the gas.

  “No!” I yelled over the bike, “Don’t slow down! Keep going!” After a few seconds, I felt the acceleration as Luc pushed the bike harder.

  Cautiously, I raised my hands to my sides, keeping balance by squeezing the seat with my thighs. Oddly enough, I wasn’t worried Luc would cause an accident. I felt safe, bordering on the edge of a strange and unknown frenzy, as I rode with him. And that was almost unsettling enough to make me grab hold of him again.

  Almost.

  My hands outstretched, the force of the rushing air pushed against them, bobbing them back and forth. Like a small child would, I flattened my palms and with the wind, made them undulate as if they were waves.

  This is what free feels like, I thought.

  My mind wandered carelessly as Luc kept the motorcycle at a steady, fast speed.

  This had probably been a bad idea, stalking away from Michel because of some words he’d spoken to agitate me to fight. Phrases that I’d let wound me, but I didn’t care about that right now. I knew there would be hell to pay when Luc and I returned, but for now, I needed this, and Michel be damned.

  On top of all the crap I’d gone through—the kids at school, the torment I felt just walking down the street from point A to point B because I knew that everyone who passed by was thinking about who my father was—I was expected to fight a war against these revenant creatures, sticking my neck out to save several races, some of which would probably rather skin me alive than admit they needed my help. What I needed was a moment, just an hour or so, to be free. I needed something that Michel seemed afraid to give me, but that Luc had willingly offered.

  “Hands,” I heard Luc say.

  “What?” I asked, aggravated that he would disturb my daydream.

  “Now!” he commanded as I felt the drag of the bike downshifting beneath me. Through my confusion, I wrapped my hands around him and searched ahead for an answer to why our ride was slowing.

  And I found it standing about a quarter of a mile ahead of us. They were dressed in long cloaks, standing in a line that spanned one side of the pavement to the other.

  Revenants, a half dozen of them, stood in the middle of the road, blocking us.

  Twenty Two

  Luc brought the motorcycle to a stop about ten feet away from them. His foot held up the weight of the bike as he began a stare down with the creatures.

  These revenants looked different from the one that had been playing the role of my mother. This pack easily stood seven feet tall a piece. They were shrouded in grey wool cloaks, with hoods drawn up over their heads to hide their faces. Their sleeves hung long at their sides, not revealing any of their bony structure other than a few fingertips.

  The one in the center of the bunch stood with his hands in his sleeves. Slowly, he moved forward and reached up, pulling back his cowl to reveal his face.

  Not that it was really a face. Its lips were missing, exposing sharp, dagger like teeth. The flesh that this thing did have was minimal, and was a pale greenish color that even from this distance, smelled of rotted meat. It had no nose, just two holes where the cartilage had long ago disappeared. As frightening as it looked, it was its eyes that jarred me.

  They were the same eyes I saw staring back at me from the woods a few nights ago when Michel had arrived to save me. The sockets were glowing a yellow light that reminded me of the glow-sticks sold in stores to keep children safe on Halloween.

  However, there was nothing safe about these things that stood blocking the road.

  Luc remained seated on his motorcycle and slowly, he reached down, putting one of his hands over mine. I felt his thumb skate over my own like he were trying to let me know he would protect me.

  I didn’t move. My breathing was a shallow, rapid strain that ached inside my chest.

  “We have no quarrel with you, vampire,” the apparent leader broadcasted. His mouth didn’t move with the words; the sounds seemed more to have escaped from him. “At least, not if you comply with our demand.”

  True to the form I knew of him, Luc mocked the creature, “Comply? Not a word I’m familiar with. Is it anything like you turning around and stalking off, leaving us to finish our joyride?”

  The revenants found no humor in Luc’s jest, remaining stoic.

  “I guess that’s a no,” Luc chided back, more to himself than the monsters before us.

  “We wish to possess the girl.”

  “Ha!” Luc laughed out loud. “You wouldn’t say that if you spent any time with her. She’s a real pain in the ass, if you know what I mean.”

  Under other circumstances, I’d be offended by his comment. At this point, however, I was really hoping that my faith in Luc wasn’t misplaced.

  “Your humor is lacking, vampire. You can walk away from this, unscathed, should you wish.” What I would loosely describe as a smile crawled over the revenant’s face. “But I do hope you choose to put up a fight. I would take great pleasure from the pain I’d inflict on you, Lucian de’Celine.”

  The vampire ribbed, placing his free hand over his chest, “You’ve heard of me? Geesh, guys … that’s really flattering. I would love to give you an autograph, but I seem to have misplaced my pen.” Luc patted his pocket before finishing his thought, the last of his words coming out in a growl, “Mind if I sign in your blood?”

  “Enough of the jests and barbs!” the revenant roared. “We wish to have the girl. You will hand her to us with our word that you will be unharmed. Make your choice, vampire.”

  Luc’s hand squeezed mine. I could feel him moving them down his waist and toward his thigh.

  “Luc,” I whispered anxiously. He squeezed my hand again, but made no verbal reply, continuing to move my hand down his leg, rubbing his right thigh, moving outward.

  “Guys,” Luc taunted, still moving my hand over his jeans. “I think the lady is enjoying her time with me tonight.”

  His hand brought mine to rest on something cool and hard strapped to his leg. He squeezed my hand again, sending me a mental message.

  Take the dagger, Maggie.

  I stiffened, hearing his thought in my mind. Carefully, I searched out the weapon, freeing the hilt as silently as I could.

  “Your time is over,” the revenant called back. He swished his hand to the air, directing the group to head toward us. They moved with the grace of specters, floating rather than stepping.

  “Guys, I was thinking …” Luc stalled, raising his hand. The revenants gave pause for just a split second. Just long enough for Luc’s message to penetrate my mind.

  Now, Maggie!

  I pulled the dagger sheathed to his leg and flung it as hard as I could while at the same time, Luc revved the engine of his Ducati, spinning us around and throwing stones at the revenants. I heard a sickly cry behind us. I tried to turn to see what had happened, but Luc grabbed my hands and forced me to clutch his waist.

  “Hang on!” he called out in all seriousness. He opened the motorcycle to full throttle, pushing the bike to its limit, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

  One of the ghastly things caught hold of my jacket, tugging me backward. I grabbed tighter to Luc, trying to stay where I was. Luc reached under the back of his jacket and pulled, and then spun half around on the bike, a sword flying over my head and leaving me just enough time to duck to the right before the blade took off the bony arm of the revenant holding me.

  Another monster was there to take its place, flying next to the bike and reaching out for me. Again, Luc swung his weapon with a fierce determination, slashing out and striking, severing the revenant’s head from the rest of its body.

  “They’re still coming!” I yelled to Luc as he accelerated the cycle again, trying to put distance between us and my purposed abductors. Looking around for an escape, Luc’s eyes fell to an old farmhouse set back off the road. He seemed to be searching the property for something.

  “There’s a graveyard!” He pointed to the tree line on the western side of the land.
“We’re going there.”

  “What?”

  “Revenants can’t walk on consecrated ground!” Luc reminded me.

  “How do you know it’s consecrated?” I screamed as yet another revenant caught up to us.

  “I don’t, but one can hope.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” I called back, leaning to the left to avoid the bony hand that reached for me. I could sense Luc’s smile as he throttled on the gas and left the road.

  We were racing through the tall grass of the farmhouse’s lawn. The motorcycle didn’t agree with the terrain, having been built for speed on the roadway, and the wheels slipped and skidded. Tall weeds whipped at my legs, and the bike listed to the side. Luc stood on the foot pegs, willing the bike to keep going through the grass.

  “Almost there,” he yelled, even as the bike began to sputter. “But the bike is going to stall,” he warned, leaning to the side again to keep the glowing eyes from us.

  Luc commanded me tenderly over the sounds of his motorcycle’s engine choking, “When I tell you to, Maggie, I’ll need you to let go and trust me, okay?”

  “What?” I asked, but there was no time for a response.

  “Now!”

  Trusting him, I let loose my hold on him as the bike began to violently shudder. With blinding speed, Luc twisted, leaping into the air from his place on the bike, his legs twisting over the handlebars. Reaching out for me even as he spun, Luc grabbed my wrists and pulled me from the back of the bike, hurtling me toward the trees in one fluid movement. I was airborn and without control, catching only a glimpse of the bike as it rolled a few feet before falling over, its engine dying.

  I came to a stop, suddenly hitting something solid and immoveable. A sharp pain greeted the back of my head and I could feel warm fluid running down my neck. I reached up to examine what it was and my hand came away bloody. Searching quickly around me for revenants, I realized I was in the midst of roughly a dozen small, worn away grave markers.

  Looking toward the commotion I heard, I saw Luc standing in front of me, his back turned, and with a sword in each hand. I could see the muscles in his arms as he juggled his weapons back and forth between his hands. Luc let out a growl of warning to them to not take a step closer unless they wished to be cut down. He crouched into a fighting stance, feet shoulder width apart and knees bent, just as he had when I’d faced him.

 

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