by Hati Bell
“Don’t you dare apologize for me,” Faey said through gritted teeth. “Especially not to this sanctimonious draconi.”
Drake pulled Amber to his side. After his first encounter with Faey in Matteo’s basement, he’d done some research about her. There was something destructive in Faey’s piercing green eyes that looked venomous. Poison that reminded him of himself. “You’re not worth it,” he said and turned around.
“Don’t you turn your back on me!”
Amber yelled right before a kettlebell hit him in the shoulder. He spun around. He knew exactly what was going through Faey’s head. What the source of her aggression was.
“Blyat!” She traced right in front of him, hitting him in the stomach.
He pushed Amber back when she wanted to step towards Faey. She wasn’t ready yet to take on someone of Faey’s caliber. Benedict seemed to share his train of thought because he pulled Amber towards a nearby bench.
“I know what you’re doing, Faey,” Drake said. “Trust me, I’ve been in your shoes. Lashing out isn’t going to help. No matter how many opponents you beat, it won’t do you any good. You’ll only end up hating yourself.”
His words only seemed to add fuel to her fire. He ducked another punch Faey threw at him. Faey traced right in front of him, kicking into his kidney. A beat later her fist jammed into his lower back.
“Be a man and fight me!”
His lip curled up when he saw her look which was tinged with a bit of insanity. “I’m not chained up this time. And I don’t plan to become a substitute for your Russian friend again.”
Faey froze and lifted her chin, her stance a challenge. “Does your girlfriend know how much blood you have on your hands?”
He felt Amber’s eyes burn in his back and could barely keep his rage in check. “Just sod off, Faey.”
She smiled smugly. “One word: Turnpike.”
“One word: an eternity,” he shot back. He felt an asshole when she winced, but she’d ask for it. Besides, he doubted that anybody sentenced to an eternity was innocent. “Good thing we’ll be rid of you in a few months,” he finished, driving the knife in deeper. She’d think twice before she picked on Amber again.
Faey gave a backward kick against a punching bag and disappeared.
“She has a terrible temper, but she's right,” Amber said to his surprise, putting her arms around his neck. “I adore you, Drake, but I have to let you go… as my trainer.” She grinned. “But don’t worry. I know exactly the right person to replace you.”
He had a feeling where this was going. “You sure about that? Faey Lancaster is probably a bit of a sociopath on the best of days.”
She nodded. “I need my own Pai Mei.”
He groaned. “You have got to stop watching martial arts movies.”
“I once knew a Pai Mei,” Benedict chimed in. “He grilled the best scorpions on a stick during the build of the Great Wall of China. Sadly he got stung by one of them and ended up inside the wall’s foundation.”
Drake ignored the phoenix. “Faey is nothing like a Chinese kung fu master.”
“She looks exactly like Pai Mei,” Amber disagreed. “She’s just as surly, cocky, and lonely. It worked out great for Uma Thurman in the end.”
He obviously wasn’t going to change her mind. “I hope you still feel this way after Faey repeatedly hits you on the head with a stick.”
EIGHTEEN
Amber walked into the kitchen feeling quite chipper. Despite her confrontation with Faey the night before, she had good hopes that the phoenix would be open to her proposition. When she’d witnessed Drake going head-to-head with Faey she’d realized how much he was holding back with her. Which would just not do. Somewhere in the near future someone was going to put her into a grave. Alive. The last time she’d seen her own death she hadn’t been able to prevent it. This time it would be different.
As usual, Matteo was nowhere to be found. No doubt looking for another piece of art to add to his collection.
After a quick breakfast she walked to the gym. Faey was already there, training, just as she’d expected. Namaka was throwing tennis balls at her, which Faey batted away. He looked relieved when he saw her standing in the doorway.
“Don’t stop. We’re not finished yet,” Faey growled.
“It’s Saturday morning,” he complained. “Normal people sleep at this time after a night of clubbing.”
“Stop whining. You lost a game; this is what you get. Next time arrange for someone to replace you.”
“You know that, aside from Benedict and Matteo, no one will spar with you.”
“Why not?” Amber asked while walking up to them.
“It’s forbidden,” Namaka said and promptly slapped a hand on his mouth. He cast an apologetic glance at Faey. “Sorry, it just slipped out.”
Amber took the tennis ball from his hand. “How about I take over and you get some sleep?” She had barely finished her sentence before he darted out of the room. She pointed at the box with tennis balls. “So how does this work? I just keep throwing them at you?”
Faey’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What are you doing?”
At least she wasn’t walking away for a change. “Helping you train,” Amber said innocently. Whatever it was Faey was training for.
“Why?”
“Because you were right. Drake isn’t the right guy to teach me how to fight. He cringes every time he thinks he’s hurt me. So, I have a proposal.”
A dangerous light shone in Faey’s eyes as she walked up to Amber. She pressed the ball in her hand into Amber’s shoulder. “You seriously believe you have something I might want?”
Sadly, she did. “Yes. I saw images of your future when you grabbed me by the throat. Trust me when I tell you that you want to hear me out.”
Faey immediately pulled back. “Funny. I see daunting images of your near future as well.”
When Faey gestured for her to throw a ball, Amber knew she had her attention. “I know you are being hunted by the Romanovs and fear the moment they will find you.”
Faey’s eyes spat fire. “I fear no one.”
Note to self: don’t stomp on Faey’s pride. “Fine, you fear no one, but still. Someone is after you. Let me help you.”
“But only if I help you first, right?” The cynicism in Faey’s voice was palpable.
“No. I’ve seen what happened to you. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone to go through what you’ve been through with Franco. If Drake were killed right in front of me, I’d—” She swallowed. “Even if you decide not to help me, my offer stands.”
The fire in Faey’s eyes got accompanied by a withering glare. “What do you know about Franco?”
Amber told her about her vision. “The last thing I saw was your promesi taking on Vasily on your behalf. Since Franco’s not around, I can guess what must have happened to him.”
“Seems like you have figured it all out. So, now you feel sorry for me and think you can magically heal me?”
Talking to Faey was like verbally wrestling with barbed wire. “No. I just don’t want to end up like you,” she admitted. “I’ve had a vision about being locked up inside a crypt. I was alone and scared. I think you know what that feels like. I don’t want to end up like you or Lola. I’ve lost my brother, so I know what it feels like to lose your sister.”
“Learn to count,” Faey sneered. “I wasn’t even born yet when Lola was thrown into the Catacombs.”
Okay, enough was enough. “What exactly is your problem with me? And don’t tell me you hate everyone equally, because we both know that’s horseshit.” She expected Faey to deny it, but of course she was wrong.
“I hate you because you live on this big, fluffy cloud. It just sickens me. You have a promesi and a dragon at your beck and call who’d do anything for you and worst of all, you don’t even realize it. You can have anything your heart desires but you’d rather stay in a small town like Somerset. There’s nothing my brother wouldn’t give you, if you’d only ask
, but all you do is worry about what to do with your future. At least you still have a future!”
Aha. Finally they were getting somewhere. “What makes you think you don’t?”
Faey huffed. “I accept your proposal. Just as long as you don’t think these are fucking therapy sessions.”
“I will, as long as you pause your bitch mode,” Amber fired back.
“Whatever the little princess wants,” Faey said. She sat down and gestured Amber to do the same.
“I’m going to give you that last jibe,” Amber grumbled, which had Faey roll her eyes.
“You want to learn how to defend yourself because you’re afraid to end up in a grave, right? To prevent that from happening first you have to figure out where the threat comes from. Judging by your story, you apparently aren’t in a life-threatening situation, grave or no grave.”
Interesting take on her vision. Though Amber believed the outcome of ending up in a grave was pretty clear. “What makes you think that?”
Faey started braiding her curls. “What’s the first thing you’d do if you wound up inside a crypt or grave?”
That was a no-brainer. “I would call out to Matteo through our telepathic connection.”
“Exactly. The thing is, Matteo can’t exactly smell your location. He can only feel it when you’re all but dying. Since my brother doesn’t appear in your oh-so-scary dream, your vision can’t end too badly for you. Though to be fair, that doesn’t tell you much, since ending up in a grave won’t kill a phoenix.”
“Like with your sister Lola.”
Faey shrugged. “There are worse things than being frozen in titanium. Lola chose the wrong side during the last Demillennium. With a bit of luck she won’t be totally insane when she’s freed.”
“What do you mean?”
“The only thing that can hold a phoenix is a titanium vault. I heard they put you into a large, steel box and pour molten titanium over you, preventing you from tracing. It’s supposed to be excruciatingly painful. But worst of all is that, while your body is frozen, your mind is still free. Five hundred years is a long time to be able to speak to just yourself.”
They were absolutely insane. Their rules and punishments were madness. Not that pointing that out to Faey would earn her any points. “Matteo told me about Benedict. It must be horrible for him to have lost the woman he loves. Is that the reason he believes she’s still with him?” Like an imaginary lover, perhaps, that he’d conjured up in his mind to deal with her loss.
Faey cracked her neck from side to side and sized her up, as if deciding how much she was going to spill about the phoenix life.
“There is a way to temporarily sever the telepathic connection between promesis,” she eventually said. “Unfortunately a permanent break isn’t possible. Obviously I’ve never met Lola, because she’s been locked up since before I was born. I only know her from a portrait, but one thing I am sure of: she is the only woman for Benedict. Which makes it so painful when someone, be it by accident or not, reminds him of Lola. His memory of her then returns with a vengeance, temporarily re-establishing their connection. He then hears her voice inside his head, whispering, screaming, cursing, mumbling. God only knows what she has to say, being cooped up inside a metal box for centuries, going slightly insane.”
***
Faey barely kept from rolling her eyes when she saw Amber’s face, practically doing an internal fist-pump. The baby phoenix was so naive. She had no clue about what she was in for or what her boyfriend was capable of.
It’s called love and devotion, her inner voice taunted.
Shut up!
If the draconi hadn’t told Amber about the eternity punishment, she wouldn’t mention a word about Turnpike. She might have been spat out and banished by her clan, but she still had her pride and honor. A little. Perhaps the little flame wasn’t as useless as she seemed. And the gods knew she understood, better than anyone, Amber’s desire for self-preservation. Didn’t she herself have an army around her, of which nothing was left the moment she’d needed them? It served her right for placing her safety in the hands of others.
But perhaps she could use the little flame. After all, this was her last chance.
NINETEEN
Running was torture. Why hadn’t anybody ever told her that? And when exactly would the runner’s high start, that supposedly euphoric moment during her run? Amber pressed a hand into her burning side.
Faey ran out like a gazelle and occasionally threw back an impatient look. “Try to keep up, little flame. If you go any slower, you’ll be standing still.”
“Thanks for the motivational speech.” Amber breathed in and out heavily, trying to catch her breath. “Your personal trainer skills amaze me.”
Faey started to run backward now. “I’m not here to hold your dainty little hand. You already have a draconi and promesi for that. The thought of someone wanting to bury you alive should be motivation enough. But if you think it’ll help, I can pretend to care about motivating you.” She gave her two thumbs up. “You can do it!”
Amber groaned and thought about how this hellish marathon had started. She couldn’t even really call it “going for a run”. It was more of a jog, turning into a slow pace. Faey had practically kicked her out of bed an hour ago. With sleep drooping out of her eyes, she’d grabbed the first running clothes she could find. Faey had thrown her a power bar and had skirted off into the garden, which lead to a path towards Exmoor Park. Ever since, Amber had been trying to keep up with her.
She could feel the sweat pouring over her head, into her neck and top. Of course Faey still looked her usual self: as cool as a cucumber. Amber looked around, hoping to spot a resting bench, anything she could place her ass on. Unfortunately all she saw were trees and more trees. That’s what you got when you left the known runner’s path, and took an alternative route. Right now, her whole focus was on keeping air going in and out of her lungs. Two more steps and she stopped. Faey just kept on going. At least, that’s what she presumed. Bent over, with her hands on her knees, all she saw were leaves and dirt beneath her feet.
“We’ve only run three miles,” a voice near her sounded.
“Only? How much further did you exactly plan to run?” Amber asked between pants.
“My usual five.”
Oh, God. She could hardly keep standing up, let alone run another two miles. “I don’t see how running is going to help me.” She gave up trying to look tough in front of Faey and dropped onto the ground. The cold earth felt like heaven against her heated body. It was just wrong to get up before sunrise on the weekend. Then again, nowadays every day was the weekend to her. It’s not like she had to go to college or a job. When had her life become so… aimless, as if she was drifting all over the place?
Faey looked down upon her, hands on her hips. She wasn’t even sweating. “You’re not as strong as a dragon or as fast as a dryad. The best way to get away from the bogeyman from your nightmare is to flee as fast as your legs can carry you. To get away, you have to run fast.” She spoke as if to a three-year-old. “Unless you tell me you’re giving up. In that case, don’t waste my time. You didn’t really think this would be easy, did you?”
“Nothing is ever easy with you.”
Oddly, Faey didn’t immediately try to lynch her, but she nodded. “That’s what Franco said.”
Wow. Faey showing a glimpse into her past? “What else did he say?”
“That he loved me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s only words. People say they love each other every day. Words mean nothing.”
“I think they do,” she disagreed. “They tell you how someone thinks and feels.” She tried not to think of the fact Drake hadn’t spoken those words to her yet. Not even when she was dying… Nope. Not going there.
A cynical laugh followed and Faey looked around. “Do you see Franco anywhere?”
“No. But to be fair, it’s not his fault that he’s not around.”
“F
ranco told me that he loved me. He promised never to leave me.”
Amber had learned how sacred the word “never” was to a phoenix. They didn’t use the word lightly since to them it literally meant forever. She wondered if Franco was frozen in titanium. She had assumed that he died. But could a phoenix even die? Matteo had been vague when she’d asked him that question. She wanted to ask, but at the same time didn’t want to hurt Faey further by continuing to remind her of Franco.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that in the end you can only count on yourself,” Faey continued. “No one but yourself can save you when you’re in trouble. Not your noble last name. Not your fortune. Not your reputation. When someone plows you down, you just have to get back on your feet. So, what is it that you want, little flame?”
“I already told you that. I want to learn to fight.”
Faey shook her head. “No, that’s just a means. What’s your purpose?”
“Not to be buried alive.” She swallowed the “duh.”
“What is it that you want?” Faey repeated.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want to not be afraid. To not end up like you. Constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid someone is going to shoot an arrow in my heart or put a sword in me.” There, she’d said it. “Also, I want to help you,” she added. Maybe if she could save Faey, she could also save herself.
“Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? You can’t save me. No one can, except me.”
“If you really believe that, why help me at all?” It wasn’t as if Faey had made her dislike of her a secret. Was she trying to renege on their deal, already? “I thought we had an understanding. You train me in exchange for visions about the Romanovs?”
“Of course,” Faey quickly agreed. “Why else would I help you out?”
Perhaps because you’re lonely? More words she’d better keep inside. “So, now what?”