Hell's Phoenix

by Gracen Miller

  She rubbed her temple, a tiny headache threatening to erupt.

  But, she couldn’t think about any of that, not when she needed answers to other questions. She peered between the two immortal men, both equally attractive though totally different. Zen was chocolate-haired, silver eyed, with power coiled in a small, unassuming package. Kur’s presentation was almost the opposite with blue-black hair, ocean-sapphire eyes that could go black or blue depending on the lighting, and a colossal frame that hid the enormous power of a dragon.

  What amazing irony. She played cloak and dagger with creatures she hadn’t known existed until five years ago. An immortal best friend, a demon step-daughter, a fallen angel for an ex-husband, a son that could end all time, the Ark of Heaven was her lover, and she was more fucked up than ever. And a dragon was now added to the mix. What next?

  Kur dragged one of the office chairs next to Zen and sat, giving her his full attention as he laced his fingers over his abdomen. “I’m all yours, my Queen.”

  Madison arched an eyebrow, but Zen frowned. “Just Madison. I don’t want to be reminded of Hell every time you talk to me.”

  “Madison.” Kur conceded with a nod.

  Zen turned away from Kur. Affecting a bored expression, he crossed an ankle over his knee and flattened his forearms along the chair.

  “You didn’t think it noteworthy to tell me the scroll thingy you stuck on my body would control an army of dragons?”

  Zen’s finger swished against the leather. “Would it have made a difference?”

  She ground her molars together. “Zennyo Ryuo. According to you, that’s what you are.”

  He rolled his shoulders in a negligent shrug. “Your point?”

  “You know Zennyo Ryuo is an ancient Japanese dragon myth, right? A dragon king, to be specific?”

  “I’m aware of the legend. You are the one that insisted on turning it into a name, even though I informed you it was my race.”

  “You could have offered a different name.” Nix watched Madison lazily.

  “Why?” Zen cleared his throat and waited for Nix to look at him before he continued. “In my time, speech was almost nonexistent. Names weren’t required because we communicated telepathically. Madison gave me a name to suit her world and I accepted it. No other was needed.”

  “All right. He’s your witness again, Mads.” Nix winked at her.

  Fucking sexy. She wanted to forget her questions and lick him all over. When she turned back to Zen, his smug smile said she’d projected her thoughts. Damn immortal and his mind-reading ability!

  “Zen, why did you send me to Hell with the power to control a dragon army and not tell me? And don’t try and insult my intelligence by saying it was a coincidence.”

  “Obviously, you went to Hell with the Scroll of Cursed Souls because you needed that army. Don’t forget I wasn’t the one who suggested it, but rather Petra. If you’ll recall, I argued against saving Phoenix.”

  “Thanks, by the way.” Nix scratched his scruffy chin.

  “She insisted you were worthy of saving.” Zen shrugged. “I was initially unconvinced.”

  “Too bad you don’t have better control over her. She never should’ve come into Hell.”

  Madison glared at Nix, knowing he meant every word. “Don’t think you’re going to have any better control over me either, Phoenix Birmingham.”

  “I look forward to taming you, baby.” He blew her a sensually wicked kiss and swept her body with a hard leer that left her feeling naked. And aroused. Jesus Christ, a wicked look and she grew wet. Madison shivered at the promises she read in his eyes and understood his taming involved bedroom activities only.

  She tried to return the topic back to its original topic. “Zen, I’m still waiting on an explanation.”

  “Simple answer. They were once under my command and helped me maintain the balance, hence part of how the legend spawned. My being able to throw balls of fire helped fuel the myth. Micah stole the Scroll of Cursed Souls. I got it back.”

  “He seemed surprised when I opened the door. Said something about it wasn’t meant to be opened yet. Do you have something to add to this, Kur?”

  “Thanks for opening our door.” The dragon grinned.

  Madison ran her fingers across her forehead. “Why didn’t you and Petra tell me about this?”

  Zen shrugged. “It never crossed my mind. I can’t answer for Petra.”

  “Petra could’ve had a hidden agenda, Mads.” Lines scored Nix’s forehead. She knew how he felt about her step-daughter, but Madison had been thinking the same thing.

  “Kur, you mentioned in Hell that you know Petra. How?”

  “She was the consort to the chieftain before me. We were trapped in Hell, but we made the most of it, created a beautiful world, and populated.”

  Not nearly enough explanation to satisfy all her questions.

  “And?” Nix prodded, loping an arm around Madison’s shoulders and pulling her snug against his side.

  “And my chieftain’s been dead for a thousand years now. Dead by Micah’s hand because Petra and our leader had a spat and she wanted revenge.” He pinned a lock of hair behind an ear. “She never attacks from the front, but had her fucking daddy enter the back way into our domain. A slit big enough for one of them to enter, but too tight for us to squeeze through in any state. Micah controlled him with the Scroll, while Petra killed him with his own blade, the one she now carries.”

  None of this surprised Madison. Petra had been a full-fledged, murder-loving demon before Amos tamed her. But like any wild animal, once tamed, it needed constant supervision.

  “You want her dead?” Madison asked.

  “With every breath I take.” His eyes gleamed for retribution.

  “You won’t have it in my house.” He bristled at her command. “And so long as I wear the Scroll of Cursed Souls, you’re in my house regardless of locale.” Their gazes were locked tight. She wouldn’t look away; it’d show weakness. “Understood, Kur?”

  He clenched his teeth. “Yes.”

  “That goes for all your dragons.”

  “I understand, Madison. Just don’t ask me to be civil to her.”

  “Looks like we all have reasons to kill that demon bitch,” Nix said.

  “She serves a purpose,” Zen replied.

  Nix chuckled. The sound rumbled from his chest against her side. She peeked through her lashes at him as he spoke. “Don’t ever ask me to be civil, either. It’s not a promise I can make, much less keep.”

  “The Scroll of Cursed Souls you wear. It’s time for it to be removed and the dragons return to their home place.” Beside Zen, Kur tensed, muscles bunching beneath his clothing, reminding her of a feline ready to pounce its nearest victim. Zen ignored Kur’s tension. “They cannot remain earthbound without causing alarm.”

  “They remain.”

  “Madison….” Zen charged to his feet.

  “If Micah or Elias comes, I’ll need all the help I can get defeating them.”

  “And if you fail? If you succumb to your inner nature?”

  “Then we’ll go rogue with her.” Kur’s silky voice would’ve been more appropriate for the bedroom.

  Chapter Fifty

  Nix glared at the dragon, disliking the quality of his voice. Way-over-the-top bedroom voice going on.

  Zen spewed curses—or it sounded like curses—in a syntax that rose and fell like he worked at sucking his tongue down his throat. The dragon obviously understood it because he shrugged at the immortal.

  “What’d you two just say, Zen?” Madison asked, peering from one to the other.

  Kur answered. “He told me if you went nuclear, you’d have us burning the world to ashes.”

  “Not my exact words.” Zen glared at the dragon.

  “And you shrugged at that?” Mads shook her head, a frown gouging her forehead with creases.

  “It won’t be the first time the world has gone out in ashes.” If Nix read Mads’s expression accur
ately, she was aghast by Kur’s matter-of-fact comment. The dragon leaned forward in his seat. “Sixty-one thousand years ago, the soon-to-come fallen angels massacred us because of their first temper tantrum with daddy. I will do anything to bring about their final fall. Anything. I’m doubtful the dragon blade I gave you killed Beliel. He should’ve exploded into diamonds the moment you nicked his heart.”

  “Seriously? Diamonds?” Mads rubbed her fingers against her temples.

  Nix would never look at a gemstone the same way again.

  “Yes.” Kur shifted in his chair. “The rarest red diamond would be the remains of an Archangel.”

  As Zen spoke, Mads walked across the room to the knives protruding from the wall. “Back on point. That Micah lived does not surprise me. He’s grown too powerful for me to kill him.”

  A scary fact, no doubt, for someone that should be capable of balancing the powers. Mads retrieved one of the two blades embedded in the wall and walked to Kur with it. She offered it to him handle first. “Yours.”

  “Keep it,” the dragon said. “I gave it to you. And that scale he came out of Hell with,” Kur nodded at Nix, referring to the one Mads had placed against his back, “your son can use Hellfire to craft it into other forms of weaponry.”

  “No.” Her eyes turned to frigid shards of ice. “And don’t think of arguing with me over that.”

  Nix wouldn’t gainsay her, not when she used that expression. Instead, he asked the question that’d been bugging him since Zen had spoken in that ancient lilt. “I thought your people didn’t have a language, Zenny.”

  “We did not. Our race is too superior for such commonness.”

  Nix frowned, surprised by the obvious jab. “Not winning any brownie points, Zenny.”

  “I don’t know what those are and I’m certain I can do without them.” Nix nearly burst out laughing at Zen’s haughty tone. “My words were spoken in Atlantian, from the time whence he came.” Zen nodded at Kur.

  “Atlantis?” Nix laughed. They had to be pulling his leg. “You said sixty-one thousand years ago, Kur? I’m not up on my history, but isn’t that way before the known Sumerian time?” At the dead silence, he glanced among all of them. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No joke, Nix.” Mads moved away from Kur to rejoin him. She slid her arms around his waist. “I realize it’s a lot to take in, but Zen predates Atlantis.”

  Nix stared at her, unable to wrap his brain around the span of Zen’s life. He tried comprehending that he could add Atlantis to his ‘not a myth’ list, which until now had only held supernatural creatures. “How fucking old are you, Zenny?”

  Zen pretended to count on his fingers before saying in a disinterested tone, “Immortal.”

  “So that settles it. I’m staying.” Kur brought the conversation back full circle.

  “I dislike it. Very bad idea.” Zen stuck to his guns.

  “This won’t end until Micah is dead.” Kur rose to his feet and squared off against the immortal.

  “Or I am.” Mads’s comment silenced the room. Nix went all sorts of crazy inside at the ease with which she talked about her demise.

  “Hold it!” Nix slashed a hand through the air. “I thought your dragon blade was a guaranteed Micah-killer?” Or at least that’s what Kur implied when he gave her the knife. “Now you’re saying that’s not enough. Well, what is enough?”

  “When I went into Hell’s realm, the angels were viciously allergic to anything dragon. I know of no other allergy.”

  “I know one way guaranteed to kill Micah.” Mads wouldn’t meet his gaze and she didn’t sound nearly somber enough for what he guessed she suggested.

  Her death.

  Nix slashed his fingers through his hair and squeezed her shoulder with his other hand. “Not an option, Mads.” Allowing her to die just to bring down her damned husband would never be an alternative in his mind.

  “Madison, I’ve made grave errors where you’re concerned. I knew as a child that Micah had big plans for you, but I couldn’t conceive the scope of his campaign. I could’ve killed you as an infant. I failed then, and I still cannot bring myself to regret my actions. He has big aspirations for the dragons. That is the reason for him stealing the Scroll from me, and I cannot see how Kur staying earthbound—especially in your current situation—makes good sense in any scenario. I took a calculated risk allowing you to enter Hell with the Scroll of Cursed Souls, knowing I hand-delivered Micah what he covets, except for a bride willing to be his Queen. Hell’s evil has fed your darkness and you’ve altered. I have no idea if Phoenix can keep you honest. Micah needs those dragons if he stands a chance of succeeding with his plan to overthrow his father.”

  “No.” Mads shook her head. “He doesn’t need those dragons nearly as much as you think he does. He might want them and they might make things a little easier for him, but he needs me and Amos because thanks to him, we’re his backup powerhouses. And he needs Nix to open Heaven’s door. I’m not ignorant, Zen. I realized, when I killed Pandora, it was unexpected by everyone, including Micah. I control that entity’s power and it can destroy the inhabitants of Heaven. I need those dragons on my side, committing to cover my back and taking me out if I really do go rogue.” Knowing the way her mind worked, Nix suspected what she would say next. He shook his head before she could get her last sentence out. “I got a really good feeling even an almighty Lynx succubus with Pandora power cannot withstand the furnace of a million-dragon army.”

  “No. No. And fuck no!” Nix’s gut coiled with desperation.

  “You cannot face our future with a set plan in your head, Nix. Every day we get is a miracle. You know better than all of us how easily tomorrow could be our last.”

  The way she talked about dying, so carefree and casual, worked against the tight strings of his sanity. “There has got to be another way.”

  “Think with your mind and not your heart, Nix, and you’ll know I’m making sense. This is bigger than me or you.”

  He got in her face, nose to nose. “No.”

  She sighed and turned her attention back to Zen. He hoped she realized arguing with him should be counted as a losing cause.

  “I know I’m a chess piece to you.” Zen showed no emotion, just stared at her, and Nix wanted to punch him in the nose for listening to her hair-brained idea. Mads went on as if she didn’t notice his lack of emotion. “You position me for optimal attack at every turn without telling me. Someone is eventually going to get burned in the crossfire.”

  “I wouldn’t burn you intentionally, Madison.”

  “Maybe not.” Mads disentangled from Nix’s light hold and walked across the room. She leaned against the desk and stood there facing them for a long moment. Nix couldn’t imagine what thoughts went through her head. “I’ve trusted you without fail for four years. You trusted me when I wanted to get Nix out of Hell.”

  “You demanded that trust, Madison. I don’t recall you requesting it.”

  “Then give me your trust willingly this time.” Silence hung between Mads and Zen. “I need those dragons to help me end it all.”

  “God dammit, Mads, you’re talking about your death as if it’s Sunday breakfast! This is insane and I won’t listen to this any longer.”

  Mads inclined her head toward the door. “You’re welcome to leave the room, Nix. I can’t trust Zen to make the hard choices with my life. If I go head-to-head with Micah again, I can count on the dragons because they must follow my orders.”

  “You command us to dispatch you if you go rogue, and we’ll do it,” Kur said and Nix whipped around to face him. This conversation had gotten way out of hand. Panic clogged his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe, much less argue with Kur. “We’ll be trapped in Hell once again, but we can live with that so long as you take out the Kings first.”

  “Killing her is out of the fucking question!” Nix glared at the immortal and the dragon. “The first one of you that attempts to—”

  “You’re forgetting
you can bring her back to life, Phoenix.” Zen’s silky-smooth words were uttered without inflection, with no emotion whatsoever.

  That statement made breathing a little easier again. No one said anything for a long time.

  “I don’t wish for her to suffer death first.” Nix put his hand through his hair. “Do you realize you’re asking me to watch you die and do nothing, Mads?”

  “I’m asking you to trust me enough to put an end to all of this.”

  “I love you. I cannot watch you suffer and die while doing nothing.” He shook his head. “Regardless of my capabilities, you ask for too much. All of you ask for too goddamn much.”

  A slow, intrigued smile tugged at Kur’s lips. “I’m in. Whatever you want, Madison, Queen of Dragons. I’ll give my dragons their directive.” Kur did a little bow and exited the room.

  Nix curled his fists, imagining how fantastic it would feel to punch the scaly fucker in the nose. He hated that fucking dragon. Hated him because he cared so little for Mads’s life.

  “I understand your dilemma, Nix,” Mads said into the ensuing silence after the door shut behind Kur. “When your life was in danger, I couldn’t remain neutral either. You do what you must when the time comes.”

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Wrapped in a cocoon of smoldering ash, darkness enveloped Micah and entwined tightly about his legs and torso. Heat filtered throughout his body like a slow sizzle through his veins. His chest ached, his lungs burned, and his extremities tingled to the point of stings, as though they awoke from being asleep.

  He rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest and winced. Why did he hurt so much? He couldn’t remember ever hurting like this.

  He ran his fingers lightly over the wound in his chest. The papery thin, newly healing flesh was tender to the touch and he grimaced when he stroked across the wound.

  Beliel bolted into a seated position as he remembered what occurred. How Madison had sexily stabbed him in the heart with the dragon blade and the expression of shock on her gorgeous features afterward.

  His wings unfurled. He flexed them and dusted off the debris of gray ash. Wincing at the pull of abraded flesh, he spiked his fingers through his hair, dislodging fine particles of soot. The tenderness reminded him he lived.