Hell's Phoenix

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by Gracen Miller


  Too slow. Zen’s telepathic voice touched hers, and he took control.

  The rancid magic vibrated on her tongue like metal and dirt, twitched her nerve endings and surged through her. With a cry of pain, she went ramrod-straight and lost her muscle function as Zen finagled the mojo while holding her steady.

  Aware of everything, but unable to direct anything, Madison put her faith in Zen as he whispered commands.

  “Focus on the horizon. A tsunami approaches. I’ve balanced the power. I need you to throw another tsunami at it to halt it in the Gulf of Mexico.”

  Or maybe he spoke in her head. She wasn’t certain, and she didn’t care. She nodded once and focused on grafting a tsunami wall in her mind. Nothing visible occurred, just the liquid presence of a magical tidal wave. She shoved her creation out over the sea and with a wobbly, untrained ghostly eye she followed its path across the span of water.

  The two walls of water—one spectral, the other real—came together and exploded like a bomb. Beachgoers hit the sand and screamed as a visible geyser spewed upward toward the sky. Wind whipped her hair and saltwater sprayed her face as Zen cooed words she failed to recognize. For all her knack with tongues, she’d repeatedly failed to pick up his language.

  “Excellent job, Madison. Now, pull it back.”

  Madison cried as she wrestled with the force in her head. The entity didn’t want to be controlled, but desired freedom.

  Madison, Pandora murmured, we work well together. We can make this work.

  She shook her head against the alien voice. Zen would never approve!

  Pandora latched onto that weakness. Keep just a smidge of me out. You never know when you’ll need my help.

  “Don’t listen to her, Madison.”

  “My head is going to split.” White exploded behind her eyes, wiping out her sight, a direct attack from Pandora. In a piercing buzz, her hearing went next.

  Zen jerked her around in his arms, but she went down, thankful for the blackness that consumed her pain.

  ***

  “My tsunami’s been attacked.” Nix stooped and submerged his hand in the warm sand. A moment later a bang louder than the breaking of the sound barrier vibrated the earth and a mile-high wall of water torpedoed into the air.

  “Excellent job in any event, Phoenix.” The resonance of a smile put a growl in Micah’s voice, probably because Nix hadn’t flinched at killing innocent mortals.

  Anything for Mads.

  Sifting sand through his fisted palm, Nix tapped into his destroyed magic. The taste of the opposing force coated his mind and he looked up at Micah. “Mads?” He stood quickly and scanned both directions of the beach as people screamed and fled in chaos. “I feel Mads in the opposing energy.”

  Micah glared at the disintegrating wall of water, his expression turning homicidal. “I know of one power capable of combating yours.” The sea misted his face and Mads’s presence grew stronger in his mind.

  “Pandora’s Box.”

  “But Mads….”

  “The Box would’ve reverted to Zennyo Ryuo’s control upon her death. Pandora most likely still wears the scent of Madison’s soul.”

  Nix shook his head. That explanation didn’t feel right. “I’m telling you, it’s her texture. Not Pandora.” He would recognize the difference.

  “Madison’s dead, Phoenix. You’re mistaken.” He turned and opened a shimmery portal only the two of them could see. “Let’s regroup and—”

  With a hand on Micah’s arm, Nix stopped his departure. A muscle in the King’s jaw throbbed, but Nix refused to back down. “I spent five years breathing her in, worshiping her, adoring her, wanting her. I learned everything about her, the small details, like how she bites her bottom lip when she’s nervous. The way her breath stutters when I kiss her. The small strangled sound she makes right before she climaxes.” Micah’s eyes widened before narrowing. “I know her scent. I know what she tastes like. Every power has a particular sensation to it.” Micah couldn’t discern between powers. They’d discovered that talent was unique to Nix. “I sampled Mads’s mojo when you came for me in the hotel room, both sides of it, her succubus”—it’d been muted—“and later mixed with Pandora. I’m telling you, she was distinctly wrapped up in that power just now.” Nix motioned to the ocean.

  Micah’s forehead was gouged with lines as he contemplated the horizon. A moment later, the King’s fingers fisted in Nix’s cotton shirt and yanked him closer. “Madison and Amos are the two most important beings in this universe to me. I had to watch that goddamn immortal blast her with his magic while I could do nothing to save her. You cannot imagine how that feels.”

  “Don’t I? I remember trying to save her from you more than once and failing every goddamn time.”

  “She died, Phoenix,” Beliel said between clenched teeth. “I don’t wish to relive it.”

  “If her life is covenanted to yours as you claimed, why aren’t you dead now? Or at the very least suffering? It’s been four months, Micah.” Nix gripped his demonic friend by the back of the neck. “Four months, and you’ve suffered no ill effect.” The King said nothing, just clasped Nix’s face between his hands as he went on. “I believe she lives. It won’t hurt to investigate. What do we have to lose? We’ve both already lost the most important woman in our lives. The worst that can happen is I’m wrong. The best, we regain her.”

  “If she’s alive, I won’t share her.”

  “You will share her, my friend.” If he didn’t, Nix would start a revolt in Hell to make the battle in Heaven which led to the angel’s fall look like a military standoff. “If Mads is alive, challenging Zen directly will draw her out.”

  The King’s eyes ignited and his slow smile would’ve chilled a normal soul. Nix found comfort in it because he recognized it as a call to action. “You have a suggestion?”

  “Yes.”

  Micah ran his thumb over Nix’s bottom lip. “You might be the best demon I ever created.”

  Nix grinned at the compliment.

  Chapter Two

  Madison blinked and groaned at the too-bright glare of the sun peeking through the curtains. The hammering in her head had her biting back vomit. At this rate, Zen’s stunts would kill her before she got a chance to save Nix.

  “We’ve got problems.” The sound of Zen’s voice stabbed against her temple.

  “No kidding,” she whispered, but the tempo sounded way too loud. “And please don’t yell.” Madison rolled onto her side and pulled the spare pillow over her head with a groan, muscles aching from the movement. If she didn’t know better, she’d conclude she’d taken on a recently launched NASA rocket and lost.

  “I’m speaking normal.” He tugged the pillow off her head. “We must talk now.”

  “My head is splitting open. Can’t it wait?”

  “The world has already split open.”

  How long had she been out? Shouldn’t she be dead if the world came apart? Shouldn’t they all be dead?

  Her eyelids snapped open, and she stared at the immortal. Zen stood beside her bed, returning her scrutiny. No emotions touched his silver eyes or his features. His dark hair lay in disarray over his forehead.

  “Split open how, Zen?”

  “A sinkhole consumed part of a neighborhood in Birmingham, Alabama.” Madison pushed into a seated position and swallowed back a surge of bile the movement caused. “There is a home located at the center of the sinkhole, surrounded by a two-hundred-foot chasm.”

  “Like a moat?”

  “Yes. The house remains untouched. The residents were slaughtered. Outside, on the vinyl siding, written in the family’s blood was: ‘Catch us if you can, Zenny.’”

  Madison felt the blood leave her face. Birmingham, Alabama…Nix’s last name and her home state. It had to be a coincidence. “Nix didn’t do that. He can’t. He wouldn’t.”

  “He’s the only person ever brave enough to call me Zenny.”

  She fought not to puke from the pounding in her head. T
his news didn’t help her upset stomach either. “Maybe Micah knows that and is baiting you.”

  “I’m definitely being baited. Prepare yourself, Madison.” Unblinking, he sat beside her and the bed dipped.

  “Prepare for what?”

  “The sinkhole was supernatural in origin but not demonic.”

  Madison leaned against the headboard and closed her eyes. Inside, her succubus prowled, needing sustenance. That’d grown common after each Pandora session. She hadn’t come right out and told Zen that her demon grew stronger after Micah’s last feeding in the hotel room, but she suspected he knew anyway. How could he not know when he spent so much time in her head wrangling Pandora under control?

  “Nix doesn’t have supernatural powers, Zen. He couldn’t be involved.”

  “Don’t delude yourself. The message implies involvement even if he cannot incite supernatural occurrences. And don’t forget Crow’s warning that he would fall in Hell.”

  She opened her eyes. The supernatural creature Crow that’d visited her five years ago had prophesized a lot and none of it good. Crow had warned not only would Nix go to Hell, he’d become a willing participant of its vileness.

  Zen had put off the mission into Hell for four months to give her a chance to control Pandora’s power. She’d seen the logic in it. Going into Hell with Pandora exploding uncontrollably from every fingertip—literally!—wouldn’t have been wise. Why did she suddenly find herself doubting Zen’s sincerity to help?

  “Is this something you anticipated? And why you wanted me to wait before saving him?”

  “No. I’m committed to your mission. You want to risk going into Hell and losing your soul, who am I to stop you? Pandora is a keg of dynamite in your system, but regardless of how lost your soul is, I still maintain power over it.” Which meant he could control her as well. “You received a phone call from Genovela Maxwell an hour ago.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She claimed to be a friend of Phoenix’s and a fellow Sherlock. She said she possessed information regarding Phoenix that could help you. I took the liberty of calling Georgie.”

  “You called someone?”

  “Cease your teasing.” A small grin tugged at his lips. “Amos dialed, I talked. Georgie verified Genovela’s identity, but couldn’t confirm if she retained relevant information on Phoenix. They go way back, something about Phoenix saving her from being possessed almost ten years ago.”

  “How’d she get my number?”

  “Same way Alessa did. Phoenix gave it to her before he went to Hell.”

  Madison tucked her hair behind her ears. “What’d Amos say?”

  “Says she’s legit, but he’s not picking up anything else.”

  She nodded. A call out of the clear blue from anybody invited reservations. They remained one step ahead of Micah by trusting no one. “What do you think, Zen?”

  “No idea. Anyone could be a trap at any given moment.” He held out a slip of paper. “This is her cell and where she’s suggested meeting in two days.” Madison accepted the note and read the location as he spoke. “Alessa met her twice, said Genovela is a bit rough around the edges, but she’s an active Sherlock.”

  “Delta, Utah is about a day’s drive from here. Alessa and I’ll go meet her, see what’s up. You’re just a thought away if something goes wrong.” Lord knew the man could teleport almost as fast as she could send a mental scream for help.

  Chapter Three

  Micah returned to Hell with Phoenix, his entire world altered by four simple words: I believe she lives.

  The conviction blazing from Phoenix’s green eyes almost convinced him, but hope, no matter how slim, might bury him if they discovered they were wrong. He couldn’t dismiss Phoenix’s point. When he married Madison, they’d covenanted their lives to one another, and it’d been signed in blood. Unaware of its demonic significance, she’d believed it a family tradition, but she’d participated of her own free will. They double-sealed the deal by ingesting one another’s blood in a marriage toast. Her death should’ve brought his. Simple as that. Yet, four months after her demise, he suffered no ill effects.

  But I watched her die. So how could she still live?

  He shook his head and shoved into Elias’s bedroom, where he entertained a succubus.

  “Brother.” Elias licked a nipple. “Something on your mind or do you wish to join us?”

  Micah and Elias were twins, the only time two angels emerged from the same divine substance. As the firstborn, Father had given Micah the angelic name Beliel. Elias’s angelic name was similar, but without the B…Eliel. At the prime of their angelhood, they’d been the fiercest archangels, more feared than the leader of Father’s current army.

  “We need to talk. In private.” He glared at the succubus.

  Elias nodded his dismissal of the succubus with a sigh, sat up, and brushed his dark hair off his forehead. “This better be good, Micah. I anticipated her screams as I fucked her.”

  “Madison is alive.”

  His brother’s hand arrested mid-air. “You’re sure?”

  “No. Phoenix is confident, however.”

  Elias grunted and rolled to his feet. “Your new prize possession gives you false hope, zkihtak.” Zkihtak meant brother in the royal dialect. “You should let me fuck your Jesus-toy sometime. I’ll teach him not to play mind games.”

  “That would be Phoenix’s decision, not mine.” Micah figured it’d be a long time before Messiah’s heir gave Elias the privilege.

  “Explain to me why Phoenix believes our princess lives?”

  Micah told him everything, expressing even his fear of hoping too hard.

  Elias clambered off the bed and yanked on a pair of leather pants. “His theory has merit. Phoenix has bizarre talent in distinguishing powers. If anyone could differentiate her signature from Pandora’s, he would be the one to know.”

  Elias agreeing with Phoenix elevated his optimism. But even the smidge of hope caused his teeth to ache.

  “He’s also correct in that you should be dead. Yet, you suffer nothing. Not even your powers are diminished.”

  “We have a plan to attempt to flush her out.”

  Elias chuckled. “She’ll love that. Wish I could be there when she sees both of your faces. Tell me, if she lives, how do you and Phoenix plan to approach your relationship with her?”

  “We’ve not discussed it, but she’s my wife. I’ll be the one to determine the relationship.”

  “Not giving Madison a choice was your mistake the first time around. Don’t make the same mistake twice, zkihtak.”

  Chapter Four

  “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Petra lay sprawled on the sofa flipping through a fashion magazine.

  “I don’t know. A few days maybe.” Madison shuffled through her overnight bag, verifying she had packed everything she needed.

  “Why? You got a hot date?” Alessa focused all her attention on Petra. “Demon or foe? Oh, that’s right, demons are your foes.”

  Petra glared at Alessa before turning back to her magazine and crossing one ankle over the other. Madison couldn’t pinpoint one specific reason—other than being a demon—why the demon rankled the other woman.

  “You sure you don’t want me to join you?” Zen moved a chess piece and smirked at Amos. “Checkmate. Beating you is too easy.”

  “You’re just a mental call and teleport away if we need you.” Madison palmed her shurikens, set them aside. Her blade and Taurus pistol rested inside the duffle bag, along with the few necessary articles of clothing.

  Holy water. Check.

  “You’re a cheater, Zen,” Amos grumbled, showing how big a poor loser he could be.

  “I’m just that good.”

  They began to reset the game, the high-pitched clacking of marble on marble ringing in the air.

  Madison double-checked the clip to her pistol. Full. Her hellish sigil etched into the tip of each bullet would spray demonic guts everywhere and provide her
victims a one-way ticket to Hell. She checked to make sure the safety was on before counting out five mags to go along with the weapon.

  “Amos, you know what to do if something should happen, right?”

  “Yes.” Amos executed his first move in the new chess game.

  “Zen, if Micah should show up, you’ll get Amos to safety, right?”

  “I know the plan, Madison.” Zen encroached on Amos’s queen. “I don’t forget anything. Ever. I did create the plan.” He placed his hands casually along the arms of the chair and cast a lazy glance in her direction.

  Not that Micah would burst through the angel locks at the entrances and windows anyway.

  Petra folded the magazine back and twisted a photo toward them. It showed a man surrounded by women ripping his clothes off, his dark hair a disheveled mess and bright red kiss marks all over his rather average, too-skinny features. Madison recognized the ad as one for a popular male body spray.

  “Madison, do you think this cologne really drives women crazy enough to attack a man as unexciting as this one?” Her lips puckered as she contemplated the inconsistency of the ad.

  “It’s advertisement, Petra. No cologne is going to drive a woman that crazy.”

  “Hmm.” The demon cocked her head to the side, staring at the photo, her gaze cloudy with assessment. “I could drive a man that crazy,” she mused, a devilish gleam hitting her features.

  Alessa rolled her eyes.

  “But you won’t.” Madison flicked a sharp glance in the demon’s direction.

 

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