SAGA OF THE STEAMPUNK WITCHES
BOOK 3:
FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX
by
Melanie Thompson
TORRID BOOKS
www.torrid books.com
Published by
TORRID BOOKS
An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC
Whiskey Creek Press
PO Box 51052
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Copyright © 2014 by Melanie Thompson
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-61160-779-6
Cover Artist: Vinessa Riley
Editor: Fran Mathieson
Printed in the United States of America
Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:
www.torridbooks.com
Erotic Flights of Fantasy Books I and II
Saga of the Steampunk Witches
Book 1: Flight of the Zeppelin
Book 2: Flight of the Crow
Dedication
Thanks to my writing partner, Melanie Fraser, without whom none of these books would have been written.
Chapter 1
Fenix floated. Below, she saw her body bathed in the light of the full moon. She must be dead.
Her dearest twin sister, Bryn, wept as she clutched Fenix’s stark white body in her arms. They were on the rooftop deck of Bryn’s Paris home. Fenix saw their friends gathered around her body, mourning. Was she really dead? Had the vampire Lazarus completed his ritual and killed her? From her position above her own body, she searched for him, spotting a smoldering pile of ash. She hadn’t burned. So who had?
And then she knew. Lazarus had consumed her cursed blood and burned as the phoenix. She recalled him biting her and the euphoria it had induced. She remembered falling to the deck feeling deliciously weak and drained. Did that mean she, Fenix, was no longer cursed? Or had she indeed died? By drinking her blood had Lazarus absorbed her curse? Had he died, leaving her behind? But Lazarus was supposed to be immortal and so was she. Had the exchange of blood changed that?
A sudden tug drew her back toward her body. It needed her to return or she would really be dead. She sighed and closed her eyes as the pull became stronger and she slid back into her corporeal self.
Bryn Sahir clutched her dead sister in her arms and cried. How could she have lost the only person on earth who truly understood her? Fenix was her twin. Together they had lived over a thousand years as they searched for the cure for a curse laid on them by a wicked Egyptian Pharaoh. Fenix only lived for thirty years. On her thirtieth birthday she ignited in a flaming pyre and was reborn a baby out of the ashes. Bryn was cursed to forever be denied the love of a man. At the peak of sexual consummation, any man who lay with her died. Together, they had sought a way to lift their curses, and now, Bryn had to go on alone.
“Bryn, I felt her quiver.” Quinnten Blade, Bryn’s love, lifted his handsome head and stared at her out of pain-wracked silver eyes.
As Bryn lifted Fenix, she smoothed her sister’s golden hair away from her too-white brow. “Lazarus drained her. How could she be alive?”
“He gave her his blood. Maybe he made her into a vampire.”
Bryn shuddered. “Life could not be so cruel.”
“When have you ever found life to be anything but cruel?”
“I just saw some movement behind her eyes,” Bryn whispered. “I believe you’re right. She is alive.”
“Let’s get her inside and into her bed,” Quinn said as he scooped Fenix into his arms. “Tomlinson, open the door.”
Arthur Tomlinson, Quinn’s assistant, Babbette, the housemaid, and Fingle, ex-familiar to Bryn’s witch friend Samantha Kennis, all scrambled to get the door open and help Quinn carry Fenix down the steep attic stairs to the second floor of their Parisian home. As Quinn laid her on the bed, Fenix stirred. Bryn lifted her sister’s head. “Get me some of that cordial I prepared for you, Quinn. It should be beside the bed.”
As Quinn ran to do her bidding, Babbette lit a branch of candles and set it on the bedside table. Bryn called to her sister. “Fenix, come back to me, my darling sister. Come back.”
Fenix groaned and her eyelids fluttered. Beside the bed, the flames of the lit candles flickered wildly and then Fenix was awake. Her golden eyes stared into Bryn’s and Bryn felt something she’d never experienced before. Fenix’s thoughts filled her head and wave after wave of power washed through her. Bumps rippled up and down her arms as a chill, as if from the grave, washed up her spine. Fenix’s thoughts were not words but images; pictures of their life together and buried in every one of those pictures was Lazarus! The vampire had been shadowing them, stalking them for centuries.
“He thought he could drain me and obtain my power while imbuing me with his power,” Fenix whispered. “But he only gained his own death. He wanted us to rule the world together as the two most powerful entities ever seen by man.”
Bryn ignored her sister’s insane babble. How could Lazarus have thought such a thing? Fenix had to be mistaken. “Fenix! You’re alive.”
“Yes, dearest sister, but I am not the same.”
“You will always be my beloved little sister,” Bryn said. “I will always take care of you.”
Fenix sat up abruptly and pushed Bryn away. “No longer will you have to perform that task.” She swung her legs off the bed. “I believe Lazarus took my curse with him when he died. I am free of it and stronger for his sacrifice.”
Fenix closed her eyes, tilted her head back, exposed her long white throat, and arched her back. “Yes, Lazarus has died and I am free.”
“You are delirious, Fenix. Lie down. You need to rest.”
Quinn appeared at the bedside holding a small glass filled with ruby-red liquid. “The cordial,” he said and held it out to Bryn. He examined Fenix for a second. “Perhaps a glass filled with blood would have been more appropriate.”
“She is not a vampire,” Bryn hissed.
“I am also not deaf or stupid,” Fenix snarled. She grabbed the glass and dashed the contents into the hearth. “I do not need this.”
She stood up, stretched and smiled. Her smile chilled Bryn to the bone. Her sister had changed. What was she now? Was Quinn right? Was Fenix now a vampire?”
“No, I am not as a vampire, though I have gained much of their power. I do not require blood to survive. As Lazarus, I am more evolved. I am stronger than a vampire. I have the power of the phoenix and the vampire inside of me.” She whirled to face Bryn so rapidly Bryn did not see her move. Fenix clutched Bryn’s shoulders in a grip of steel. “I am now the stronger twin.” And she smiled.
Bryn slowly backed away from her sister. After a thousand years together, she felt like she stared into the eyes of a stranger. Quinn put his hand against her back to support her. “You’ve always been strong,” Bryn whispered. “What are you saying?”
Fenix preened, smoothing her wild hair. “What I mean, dear sister, is I will be taking care
of you now. You won’t need to take care of me. You are still laboring under a curse while I am free of mine.”
“How can you be sure? You almost died. You’re still delirious.”
Fenix sat on her bed and dropped her head into her hands. “I’m not delirious but I am exhausted.”
“Lazarus drained you of blood. You may feel filled with power but you’re still weak from loss of blood.”
When Fenix looked up, Bryn saw exhaustion reflected in her sister’s golden eyes. Love filled her. They had gone through so much together. She sat beside Fenix and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Rest, darling Fenix. When you are stronger, you can tell me to go to hell.”
Fenix laughed. “I love you.”
“You are my heart,” Bryn told her and meant it.
Chapter 2
Fenix closed her eyes and let herself drift into sleep. The deepest exhaustion she’d ever felt had claimed her. Her eyes would no longer stay open. Bryn and Quinn had left her alone. It was as though they feared her. They seemed stunned by her survival and terrified of her revelations. Almost immediately after they left she succumbed to slumber and dreamed.
She walked down a city street. The city was old and a desert sun burned down on the bleached blocks of the houses on either side of the narrow lane. She was dressed in a black robe made from a fine weave of soft fibers, probably wool. The sandals on her feet were leather and tied around her ankles. She smelled wood smoke from cook fires inside the homes, animal dung and raw sewage.
In the distance, a man walked toward her. He wore a white robe, had long dark-brown hair and a neatly trimmed black goatee. As she drew closer, she recognized him and stopped. It was Lazarus.
Lazarus continued to walk toward her. When he got within ten feet, she saw his piercing blue eyes were locked on her and he opened his arms. Without another thought, she ran into them.
His embrace filled her with love and warmth such as she had never known. He said nothing, just swept her into his arms and carried her through an open doorway into the cool interior of one of the small homes. She buried her face in his robe and breathed deeply of a familiar scent. He smelled of spices and sunshine. He carried her deeper into the home, placed her tenderly on a pallet and touched her face. “I knew you would come. I waited.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I am. You gave me the gift of death, my darling, and it is truly the greatest gift I have ever received. I have not rested in thousands of years. To finally lay down the struggle to survive, to live, to continue when all I wanted and yearned for was peace, is the finest gift you could have given to me.”
Fenix touched his lean cheek with her palm. “I know you.”
“Not as deeply as I would like.” He dropped his head and kissed her. His lips were tender at first and then the kiss grew intense, passionate and consuming. She opened her mouth to the invasion of his tongue and moaned. Her robe fell away, leaving her naked before him. He caressed her entire body, stroked her breasts and touched her face. “You are more beautiful than I could ever imagine.”
She pushed his robe off of his shoulders and touched the taught muscles. “You are young.”
“I will always be like this for you.”
“But if you are dead, why don’t you ascend into heaven?”
“I will never leave you. I have loved you for a thousand years. I will remain on this plane for you until you join me in death.”
“But I am immortal and cursed.”
“I took your curse upon myself as a gift to you. One day, you will come to me through death. It will happen, my love. I have seen it.”
He stood up and removed his robe. Fenix stared at his hard body, the contours of his flat stomach, his long legs, his erect manhood. He moved between her open thighs and entered her. She closed her eyes as intense pleasure filled her entire body. Their lovemaking was fantastic and dream-like. Their bodies moved together in ways real bodies could not. They floated above the pallet, walked together, twisted and rolled all while remaining joined. Fenix climaxed so many times she lost count. Her body burned with an unquenchable desire for Lazarus.
When she awoke back in her bed in Bryn’s Parisian home, she was filled with a strange contentment and stretched like a cat. Her heart brimmed with love for Lazarus, a man who had walked the earth for centuries as a dead man and who now waited for her in the great beyond. Had her dream been real? As she dressed, she contemplated the thought. It felt real, but she’d almost died. Perhaps she was not in her right mind.
Bryn sat at the table in the breakfast parlor sipping hot chocolate and nibbling on a croissant. When she saw Fenix she rose and embraced her. “Dearest sister, I am so glad to see you up and dressed.”
“Of course I’m dressed. It’s a new day. What are you planning to do now that Draak Priest is gone?”
Bryn sipped her tea. “Nothing. He’s a new man. He’s young and he’s made some very terrible threats against both of us so we will always be vigilant and watch for him, but the dagger and the witch doctor are far more important. We will watch for Priest as always, but for us, the critical issue is finding that dagger. Its power will break our curse. I just know it.”
“How can we find the witch doctor?”
Before Lazarus performed the ritual that changed Fenix forever, he’d made a bargain with Bryn for the recovery of his dagger, a weapon with immense power and magical properties. Bryn had been unable to steal the dagger from their arch-enemy Draak Priest before he used it to end his own curse; to transform himself into a young man and disappear. The dagger had been stolen immediately after Priest transformed himself with the help of a witch doctor from the Negro Village inside the Paris Exposition. The witch doctor had disappeared along with the entire village and the dagger.
“I have this.” Bryn held up a huge emerald. Fenix recognized it as the Coeur de Flamme, a dark green gem with a fiery ruby red heart. “Unfortunately, Priest drained it of its power. Look, there is no flame inside of it anymore.”
Fenix took the stone and turned it over and over in her hand, searching for the fire at its heart. It was gone. “How could this happen? Can we still use the stone to find him? It must have made some kind of connection to him.”
“Perhaps. But I think Priest used it up in his transformation. Either that or the dagger stole its power. If that’s the case, the dagger is the strongest talisman of power on the earth and we must find it.”
Fenix knew Bryn had a plan. Her sister usually disregarded her and rarely took her into her confidence. Fenix was tired of being excluded. Her time was now. Thanks to Lazarus, she possessed power greater than her sister’s. She knew that, but it would take showing Bryn to get her sister to believe.
“Do you think the witch doctor took his village back to Africa by using the power of the dagger?” Fenix asked.
Bryn took a bite of her croissant and chewed thoughtfully. “Yes, but where in Africa? We must perform a scrying, find him and then follow him. It would be stupid to just travel to Africa without knowing where he is.”
“I will perform the scrying,” Fenix said.
Bryn brushed crumbs off her fingers and wiped her mouth. “No, my dearest one, you are too weak. Sam and I will do it this morning. Sam has a feather from the witch doctor’s headdress and I have a branch of herbs given to me by one of his wives. She was pregnant and the witch doctor promised she would have her child at home, in Africa. With these two items we should be able to find Kivunjo. Even though he protects himself with the power of the dagger, the dagger itself may give him away.”
Anger filled Fenix with energy. She leaped to her feet. “You cannot deny me the right to participate.”
Bryn’s eyes flew open with surprise. “We would never do such a thing. It’s just you’re so tired and worn from your ordeal. Don’t you think you’d be better off resting? When you’re stronger, of course we will include you in everything we do.”
“I alone was touched by the dagger.” She closed her eyes and
Lazarus appeared to her. He smiled and winked and she returned the smile. “I’m sure I can locate its power signature anywhere in the world.”
Bryn wrapped one arm around Fenix’s shoulders. “I’m sure you can, dear one, but eat something. You must be famished and then you really should rest and recuperate your strength.”
Fenix recognized the patronizing tone of Bryn’s voice. Until she proved herself otherwise, Bryn was going to treat her as a child. She closed her eyes and summoned Lazarus. He immediately appeared to her. “Where is the dagger?” she asked him.
Lazarus grinned. “Your sister is treating you callously my love?”
Fenix smiled. “She does not know how to change.”
“Then you must show her. The dagger is with Kivunjo in the Mountains of the Moon.”
“I know where the witch doctor went,” Fenix said to Bryn.
Bryn smiled. “Of course you do, dearest sister. Tell me after you’ve eaten something and rested.”
“Stop treating me like I’m a child!” Fenix shoved Bryn’s arm away. “The dagger is with Kivunjo in the Mountains of the Moon. You know where those mountains are, Bryn. We’ve both been there many, many years ago.”
“The Belgian Congo,” Bryn whispered. “That’s a very frightening place. How do you know he’s there?”
Fenix had no desire to tell Bryn Lazarus was communicating with her. Her sister already thought she was crazy. “I saw it in a dream,” she said instead.
Bryn shook her head. “That’s quite a journey to undertake just because you had a dream. What did you see in this dream?”
Fenix closed her eyes and saw Lazarus smile and open his hands to show her a huge waterfall, a long lake and a village at the end of the lake with snow-capped peaks behind it.
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