How had she gotten there? She didn’t recall walking so far.
A car horn blared and she leaped back to avoid being splashed as a car drove straight into a puddle at her feet. Lily muttered a curse under her breath and slipped through a break in traffic to the safety of a nearby footpath, drenched and freezing. The few pedestrians passing by gawked at her as if she was crazy and her cheeks heated.
A small cafe sat on the corner, and the soft lights beckoned her like a lighthouse. She pushed open the chipped wooden door to the sound of jingling bells, and the rich aroma of caffeine engulfed her senses.
The clock on the wall indicated that it was near closing, and the cafe was empty of customers. Still, the kindly old woman behind the counter ushered her to a table and placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of her. She shook her head when Lily tried to dig some money out of her jeans pocket and gave her a pat on the shoulder before returning to her cleaning.
Lily clutched the cup in her hands and waited for the heat to sink in. But the cold she felt wasn’t physical, and it wasn’t one that could be fixed with a cup of coffee.
So many people dead. Not just Annabelle, others too. Was Shade right? Could all of those people have been saved if Ethan had just killed Phoenix in the beginning? How many more would die now? Even if she managed to use the Ouroboros, it wouldn’t matter; she’d be dooming her sister all over again. There was no happy ending for any of them. Not while Phoenix was alive.
She reached down to the bag that sat by her feet and drew out the wooden box. It felt heavier than normal as she placed it on the table. The photo on the lid lost focus as tears burned her eyes.
“Please, Annie, tell me what to do,” she whispered, scrunching her eyes shut.
Ethan’s gaze followed Phoenix around the pub as he tapped his foot absently in time to the band’s music. His pint of Blue Moon sat untouched on the wooden table in front of him, and the paper beer coaster was in shreds beside it instead of absorbing the condensation that ran down the glass.
“Has she spoken to you?” Abi appeared beside him. Her line of sight followed his as she twisted a cloth in her hands.
“Just to inform me she doesn’t need a babysitter, and that everything is fine.”
“Ooooo.”
Ethan laughed. He’d grown up around enough women to know that when a woman told you it was “fine”, you were in deep shit.
It didn’t help that he had no clue why Phoenix was pissed at him. But based on the ice-cold welcome he’d received, she obviously was. His arrival that evening had been met with a dagger stare, and she’d spent the entire night avoiding him. He’d watched her laughing and joking with the other customers; a general observer would be fooled into thinking she was happy and relaxed, but he could see the telltale tightness in her shoulders. Hell, he could almost see the steam coming from her ears.
“You?” he asked, noting the tightness around Abi’s eyes and the frown that creased her forehead.
Abi blew a strand of hair out of her face with a sigh. “I waited up last night to talk to her, but I guess it was a late one.”
She looked at him for confirmation and he muttered non-committally, avoiding her gaze. Nate had gotten home sometime around midnight, but he didn’t think Abi needed to know that. It was obvious Phoenix needed space to process everything. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a rift between the two best friends in the meantime.
His phone buzzed on the table before she could ask anything further, and he gave her an apologetic smile as he noted his father’s name on the screen. Leaving his full pint behind, he slipped outside into the night.
“Have you managed to get in touch with William?” he asked as soon as he answered, all form of pleasantries foregone.
“Is that any way to greet your Alpha?” Cormac growled. “Or your father?”
Ethan closed his eyes and took a breath. His father wasn’t the bad guy here. All he’d done was try to help; it wasn’t Cormac’s fault a certain redhead put him in a bad mood.
“Sorry, it’s been a long few days. We got more information on the prophecy.”
“Nothing good I take it?” Cormac’s voice softened, no trace of the Alpha remaining, only a father’s concern.
He shook his head even though his father couldn’t see him. He had no idea how to start explaining the clusterfuck they were in or the heavy weight of dread Abi’s words had triggered.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m still here. It turns out Darius had a scroll.” In concise, emotionless detail he brought Cormac up to speed. He forced himself to focus only on the facts; the implication spoke for itself.
For a minute, there was silence.
“We have time, son. We’ll find another way.”
The words struck Ethan in a place he wasn’t ready to examine yet, and he swiftly changed the subject. “What about the Council? Did you speak to William?”
“He seems to have fallen off the radar since the meeting.” Cormac’s frustration was palpable even through the phone.
“Maybe if I try to contact him?”
“And say what? He expects me to take an interest in Council business. It’s my job as Alpha. If you start asking questions, you’ll only draw attention to yourself.”
“So, I’ll tell him the truth.”
The line fell silent once more.
“Make no mistake, Ethan,” Cormac said, eventually, “William’s loyalty is to the Council. The fact you’re family will mean nothing to him if he believes your actions pose a risk to the Lore.”
Ethan’s free hand clenched. They’d had this argument before and he just couldn’t understand it. Family came first. Always. Besides, if Vicktor had informed the Council of his meeting, there was every chance he’d mentioned the wolf by Phoenix’s side. That alone would be enough to raise questions. It would be better if William heard the truth from him.
“Think carefully, son. If the Council knows of your connection to the hybrid, you put the whole pack at risk. Are you ready to ask that of them?”
An uncomfortable knot settled in the pit of Ethan’s stomach, and he cursed. “I have to go. Let me know if you hear anything from William.”
He hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket, biting back a roar of frustration. His father was right. Whether he liked it or not, anything he did reflected on the pack. It didn’t matter how far he ran from his responsibilities.
With that thought gnawing at him, he turned to go back into the pub, only to find himself face to face with Phoenix. Her vivid green eyes were unreadable as she watched him with her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“I don’t need you to save me, Ethan.”
His jaw dropped. Was that what she thought he was trying to do? Play the knight in shining armour?
“I know you’re trying to help,” she continued, tone cooler than he’d heard from her since they first met. “But I’m a big girl, and I can look out for myself.”
His anger flared. She was so bloody stubborn. Did she not realise it was going to get her killed?
“And what about the people that get hurt while you’re busy looking out for yourself?” He growled and pushed past her, stalking into the night.
***
As Ethan’s form disappeared from sight, Phoenix bit back the urge to scream. Frustration mixed with anger, churning into a mess of emotions that crawled over her skin. He didn’t get to push her around or decide what was best for her. She’d done fine before he came along; there was no need for his self-sacrificing bullshit. She wasn’t asking anyone to put themselves in danger for her. She didn’t want them to put themselves in danger for her.
The anger wrapped around her like a protective blanket and she turned to yank open the door of the pub. Even from across the room, she could feel Abi’s concerned gaze boring into her. She pointedly ignored it and set about cleaning tables. She didn’t need their concern … or their pity.
The night passed in a blur and by closing time, her mood had only
marginally improved. She’d avoided Abi by using customers as live body-shields and had multiple arguments with Ethan in her head – all of which she won. But as the last stragglers slipped out the door, she saw Abi approach from the corner of her eye.
“Ethan left in a bit of a rush earlier. Is everything okay?”
An uncomfortable knot of jealousy twisted in her stomach, adding more fuel to her anger.
“Everything’s fine. I just made it clear I didn’t need him to babysit me.”
She moved to the side but Abi blocked her way, unyielding.
“He’s worried about you. Why is that so bad?”
“I don’t need him to be worried about me. I don’t need everyone to protect me.” She glared pointedly at her friend but was met with defiant blue eyes.
“Does it ever cross your bloody mind that we care about you?”
“Oh, so you kept the truth from me because you cared?”
“Yes! Just like you kept the truth from me because you cared.” With that, Abi turned on her heel and disappeared through the door that led to their apartment.
Phoenix stared after her, an uncomfortable burning sensation building in the back of her throat. What was she doing? She didn’t want to argue with Abi. Or anyone really. It was like she couldn’t stop herself. The sane part of her brain was being held hostage, nothing more than a muffled voice trying to make itself heard through the haze that was clogging her head.
She should be upstairs with Abi right now, curled up on the sofa debating which tacky movie to watch tonight. Instead it felt like there was a huge divide – one she’d created – between them. And she didn’t know how to fix it.
With a heaviness in her heart, she locked the doors and trudged upstairs to her room. The first sight that met her when she switched on the light was the wooden box on her locker. The subtle fragrance of herbs reached her nose, and an image of her parents flashed before her eyes. They’d given up so much for her. And it was all for nothing.
She crumpled to the floor and let the silent tears flow.
Darius sank into the plush velvet couch that had been handcrafted specially to fit the curved office. The floor-to-ceiling window offered him a panoramic view of the club below and he watched as servers wove through the crowd of writhing bodies. They were easily identifiable in their leather attire and by the desperation they reeked of. Pathetic.
The bank of monitors to his left sat silent, screens black. At this time of night, the private rooms they showcased would all be occupied, but he didn’t think his guest would quite appreciate the show they provided.
He took a sip of his whiskey and regarded the man across from him. “You have news for me?”
Vicktor nodded and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, grimacing as he not-so-discreetly wiped his hands. A glass of whiskey sat untouched in front of him. Amused, Darius noted the stiff set of his shoulders as he avoided looking towards the club.
“This is an interesting place you have here.” The undertone of disdain was clear in Vicktor’s voice. Darius smiled.
“We like to cater for all tastes … Even those not necessarily to our liking.”
A non-committal grunt was the only answer as Vicktor wiped his hands once more.
“The witches are going in tonight.”
Darius stilled.
“Where?”
The other man eyed him warily. “Does it really matter? She’s either strong enough to survive the hit or she’s not.”
Darius leaned forward, allowing himself a moment to imagine ripping Vicktor’s throat out. “Humour me.”
“I’ll give you this information, but then I’m out, Darius. I won’t betray the Council any more than I already have, even if they are misguided.”
Darius took another sip of his drink, using the glass to mask his impatience.
“The hovel she calls a home. They’re on their way now.”
That didn’t give him long to act.
With an amicable smile, Darius pushed himself to standing. “I appreciate you coming here to tell me.” He brushed his hands down the front of his jacket, smoothing out the soft cashmere. “Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me; I have another prior arrangement. My guards will be happy to show you out. Unless you wish to stay and partake in the entertainment?”
His smile shifted, and with pleasure he noticed the other man flinch before he turned and left the viewing room.
What the –
Phoenix’s eyes shot open. The insistent tapping that had pervaded her dreams continued. Darkness filled the room around her, and in her groggy state it took a moment to realise the noise wasn’t just a figment of her imagination.
She turned to look at the window where red eyes stared back at her through the glass. A scream bubbled up in her throat.
The crow’s loud squawk broke through the terror long enough to make her pause. Even against the backdrop of night, the bird’s feathers were a miasma of colours that rippled hypnotically as they ruffled in the wind.
Red eyes. Feathers like an oil-slick rainbow. She’d seen this bird before.
The crow’s tapping became more frantic and its squawk more insistent. She scooched up in the bed until her back was against the headboard, but kept her eyes glued to the window. Surely it couldn’t be the same bird? The one that had saved her from the first demon?
Apparently satisfied to have gotten her attention, the crow took flight and disappeared in a blur of feathers.
Well, that wasn’t creepy.
Shaken, she looked around her room, half expecting the bogeyman to jump out at her next. What she saw instead stopped her short.
A thin wisp of smoke seeped under the bedroom door and moved across the floor like fog. She sniffed the air but found no smell of burning, and the fire alarm was noticeably silent. She closed her eyes and peeked one eye open, but the smoke was still there, thicker now.
Shit! Abi.
Panic sent a spike of adrenaline through her. She leapt out of bed and ran to the door, yanking it open before her brain belatedly reminded her to check how warm it was.
The hallway beyond was a haze of smoke, a strange blue hue trailing along the ground behind it. A wisp of the smoke touched her bare legs and creeped upward in a tender caress. A light prickle of static followed its path over her skin, but aside from that odd sensation, there was nothing.
No smell. No immediate clogging of her airways. None of the things that should have come with smoke.
Abi’s room was barely twenty feet from where she stood, yet in that moment it felt like miles. She sprinted down the hall and yanked the door open, not bothering to knock. The room was filled with the strange blue smoke, and she could only just make out Abi’s form lying in the bed. Unmoving.
Phoenix’s heart stuttered and clenched painfully. In the split second it took her to reach the bed, she did something she hadn’t ever done before: she prayed.
She’d be a better person, a better friend. She’d stop being a complete pain in the arse. She’d forgive her friend for every little lie and apologise for her own, glaringly obvious double standards. She’d do anything.
The rise and fall of Abi’s breathing was so subtle that, for a moment, she thought she was imagining it. Phoenix placed her hand on her friend’s chest and when she felt the gentle movement, she let out a sob of relief.
“Abi.” She shook the still form. “Abi.”
No answer.
Panic started to overtake her once more and she shook harder. Still no response. Then, through the haze of smoke and fear, she heard it: footsteps.
She darted to the door and crouched low. Tentatively, she peered into the empty hallway. The footsteps grew louder. A second later, a man stepped into view at the top of the staircase. Long robes draped over his lanky frame, and a trail of blue flames followed in his wake like an eager puppy lapping at his heels. His lips moved in a silent chant and his signature washed over her, bringing with it a burning heat.
The flame crawled up the w
alls, slowly devouring everything it touched. Everything except the witch.
She cursed and glanced towards the bed. The witch would reach her in seconds, and the only other exit from the bedroom was a small window with a two-storey drop. Could she make it without hurting her friend?
There was no time to decide, however, as the witch began to walk in her direction.
Without thinking, she lunged from her crouched position at the door and barrelled into the witch. He stumbled a couple of feet, but his mouth turned up in a satisfied smile.
Blue fire surrounded them in an instant, and she was consumed by a heat so intense it could sear the flesh from her bones. Her instincts screamed at her to run.
Instead, she drew closer to the witch until she found herself within his protective sphere and the heat reduced somewhat. Unfortunately, it also brought her within reaching distance. The witch grabbed at her but she twisted away, using her speed to her advantage. The close quarter training sessions Ethan had forced on her suddenly seemed a lot more relevant now.
Conscious of the flames growing closer and closer to Abi, she waited for an opening. The witch was strong, but a significant portion of his energy was focused on creating the magic fire and eventually she saw her opportunity.
A sharp jab to the kidney doubled him over in pain and she followed through with a knee to the jaw. The strike caught at the perfect angle and he fell to the floor unconscious.
Before she could do anything further, blue flame engulfed the narrow strip of floor between her and the witch, forming a barrier. She stumbled back, her arms raised in front of her face in a vain attempt to shield from the heat. Every instinct in her body screamed to finish him off; he’d come into her home and threatened the safety of the people she loved. He couldn’t be allowed to live.
But even with the witch unconscious, the flames continued to spread. Gaping holes appeared in the plasterboard that coated the walls, exposing wooden beams that were quickly turning black. There was no time. She needed to get Abi out.
2 Minutes to Midnight: Urban Fantasy Midnight Trilogy Book 2 Page 4