Phoenix Freed

by Elise Faber

  It hit the Master in the stomach, and he flew backward across the crater. The resultant explosion—flames, dirt, noise—crashed into the shield, a cacophony of sound and chaos.

  Morgan gave a low whistle. “Damn. Death by rocket launcher. I like it—”

  The Master rose from the charred hillside, from the burned dirt and smoking earth like the evilest imaginable version of Aphrodite emerging from the sea. There wasn’t a scratch on him, though his clothes had burned away to reveal a body malformed by black magic. His skin was smooth and shiny like plastic, the dark powers’ version of personal body armor. The Master cocked his head to the side, a predator still and listening, and released a shot of magic.

  It collided with a burst of dirt on the opposite hillside.

  “Come out. Come out, wherever you are.”

  Another bolt. Another explosion of dirt.

  Daughtry watched in terror. She could feel Cody out there, knew he and Dante were hiding . . . and Francis too.

  She should have recognized it sooner, but only now did Daughtry realize that they were invisible because Francis was using his powers to make them so.

  Dear God, don’t let them get hurt.

  “I so love a game of cat”—the Master shot more black magic, disintegrating the opposite hillside—“and mouse. So predictable—” Another blast, more dirt flying, more smoke.

  “Predict this.”

  Daughtry barely withheld her screech of terror as Alex appeared directly behind the Master.

  The knife in her sister’s hand was already descending, already piercing that black carapace.

  The Master disappeared.

  There wasn’t blood. Or ash. The Master merely blinked out of existence as he teleported to some unknown location.

  Alex let out a scream of frustration as Cody and Francis reappeared. They’d been standing very close to the shield, and Cody crossed to Alex. “Come on inside,” he said. “Where it’s safe.”

  Her sister looked up and met Daughtry’s eyes through the barrier of the shield. She felt more than heard Alex’s reply.

  “We’ll never be safe so long as the Master remains alive.”

  Forty-Nine

  Daughtry stared at the prone form carefully tucked into the bed in front of her. She’d thought John dead once before, knew he was tougher than steel, but seeing him so pale and still was disturbing.

  He’d lost a lot of blood. That was why he wasn’t waking up. Or at least that was what Suz had told her, and also what she’d gleaned from her study of healing so far.

  His body was undoing the damage. Healing itself. It was just that . . .

  She didn’t want him to die.

  But Suz had done everything she could. She’d healed the wound, boosted John’s bone marrow so it would produce more blood cells, even steadied his temperature and blood pressure to ward off shock.

  It was as much as a healer could do.

  And John still didn’t wake.

  With a hopeless sigh, Daughtry gave John’s limp hand a squeeze and made to leave the room.

  “You should come with me,” she told Alex, who was hovering near the door. Her sister hadn’t moved from the wall the entire time Suz had worked on John. Her eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, not to mention the sheer amount of dirt and ash that was stuck to her skin.

  “No,” Alex said. “I’ll— I’ll stay.”

  “At least take a shower?” Dee asked. “You might feel better.”

  Alex pushed off the wall and crossed to the bed, sinking down into the plastic chair at its side. “No,” she said softly, “I don’t think I will.”

  With a muttered oath, Dee touched her sister’s arm. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Like hell it isn’t!” Alex whirled so quickly that Daughtry actually took a step back. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t come, none of you would be in danger. I all but brought the Dalshie to your doorstep. If not for me”—a broken gasp—“John wouldn’t be . . .”

  “They would have come for me eventually,” Daughtry said. “I knew it. The whole of the Rengalla knew it. The Dalshie want my powers.”

  They also apparently wanted the Orb. Which was a scary thought. Dee just knew it was a weapon. Something Elisabeth—and now the Master—was willing to kill for.

  “I should have never come. I should have just gone away. Disappeared.”

  “I’m glad you came,” she murmured, crouching near Alex’s side and putting a hand on her sister’s knee. “You’ve told me so much, helped me remember. You were trying to protect us.”

  Alex shook her head. “I didn’t do it to protect you or the other Rengalla. I came because I was scared and alone and . . . and . . .” She broke off, covered her face with her hands, and bent nearly in half as her shoulders shook.

  The action sparked the first movement out of John.

  His hand lifted and curled around Alex’s wrist. He tugged her onto the bed beside him in a movement so fast that Dee barely got out of the way.

  “Go,” John told her, his voice so rough the word was barely decipherable.

  Dee stood and hesitated, watching as John cradled Alex close, whispered in her ear. His touch was gentle—reverent—even though he’d been unconscious moments before.

  It was as if his body was in tune with Alex’s on a whole other level. And the way Alex hadn’t fought him, had just curled into his side and accepted the comfort . . .

  Dee tilted her head, saw a faint glimmer of pale blue, black, and indigo magic dusting Alex’s skin.

  Pixie dust, Suz jokingly called it.

  Daughtry had it—violet and emerald. Gabby had it—hazel and amber. And—

  Her jaw fell open.

  “You’re bonded.”

  Fifty

  Daughtry pushed through the barrier that led into the archives. It was a room—well, a series of rooms—beneath the Colony.

  She’d gotten fairly used to the musty air and wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-ceiling shelves, but clearly the space wasn’t what her sister was expecting.

  Alex stopped, half in, half out of the magical door, her face comically shocked. “Holy . . .”

  “I know,” Dee said.

  “But how does anyone find anything?”

  Her lips quirked at the awe in her sister’s voice. “The Rengalla may be long-living, but they don’t have particularly long memories. They tend to live in the here and now and shove the past . . . well”—she waved a hand at the shelves as Alex stepped fully into the room—“to boxes and storage containers.”

  “But there has to be so much history here. So many memories.”

  “I know.”

  Maybe someone had to grow up without knowing who they were or how they fit into the world to understand. But Daughtry had always possessed an unquenchable thirst for her past. To learn why she had visions, why she was different, what her real parents were like. There had been so many unknowns that she wanted desperately to find out everything she could. And yet she recognized that while Alex might have “known” their mother more than her, it didn’t mean she had any more answers to those questions than Dee did.

  “Okay,” she said. “So they’re organized by family lines. Ours is three rows over, sandwiched between our maternal and paternal families.” She talked as she led Alex over to the crates. “I’ve looked through most of it.”

  “Have you found anything interesting?”

  Dee smiled, but it felt a little forced. She’d found the Orb, which Dante had strictly forbidden her from mentioning anything else about to Alex. Which she thought both incredibly stupid and really, really frustrating. Alex was going to be a freaking LexTal, she should know about the Orb. But only a handful of Rengalla the Orb existed, so she’d acquiesced.

  Still, sooner or later Alex needed to know.

  Daughtry felt that deep in her gut.

  “I did,” she said, pulling the phoenix necklace that had been her father’s out from beneath her shirt.

  She took it off and
handed it to Alex. “This was our father’s.”

  “It was?”

  “The first LexTals all had one. Apparently one of the Rengalla who died in the fighting during WWII was incredibly gifted with shielding. He imbued the metal of the necklaces with protection against black magic.”

  Alex held the pendant carefully, tracing a reverent finger down one of the phoenix’s wings. “The detail is incredible,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I know. Dante has the only other I’ve ever seen. The rest of the current LexTals either weren’t born yet or were just soldiers during the fighting and didn’t get one.” Daughtry closed Alex’s fingers around the small figurine, the sparkling silver chain hanging from her sister’s hand. “It’s incredibly precious and has saved my life several times over. I want you to keep it.”

  “What?” Alex’s eyes shot up to hers. “It’s yours. I couldn’t—”

  “Please wear it.” She gave Alex sad eyes. “For me?”

  “No fair,” her sister said. “Not the doe eyes.” But Alex obliged and slipped the necklace over her head.

  “Okay.” Dee clapped her hands together and pulled down a box. “This one is by far my favorite. Elisabeth had this gorgeous gown—”

  She popped open the lid of the crate and felt the air magic protecting the contents from aging dissipate into space. There it was. Incredible emerald silk and black lace. Silver stitching that gleamed even in the dim lights of the room.

  Shaking it out after she’d pulled it free, she turned to show Alex.

  Her sister’s mouth fell open. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I know. She wore it when she married our father.”

  “Do you think they loved each other?”

  Daughtry smiled. She knew her parents had loved one another, despite the odds. Oracles were risky partners; more of them went insane and turned than didn’t. Of course, Dee had Cody and the bond to prevent that.

  Her mother hadn’t.

  Simple love hadn’t been enough for Elisabeth. Perhaps her mother might not have turned if their parents had bonded, if her father had been able to sense the darkness before it fully took hold. But maybe it wouldn’t have been enough. Elisabeth had been a master at manipulation, at hiding the darkness from those close to her. Bonding might not have saved her mother. And what hell it would have been for her father to be so intrinsically linked to a Dalshie.

  “Our parents definitely loved each other.” Carefully, Daughtry folded the gown and pulled out the stack of tied letters from the crate.

  Together, they opened the envelopes and gingerly read the notes. There were simple letters—quick notes to set up outings—and there were more flowery sentiments. Their father had even written one horrible poem that sent her and Alex both into fits of giggles, tears streaming from their eyes.

  “Your love is like the sky above, it soars and flies more dramatically than a dove—” Dee broke off again, unable to finish without losing it again.

  “He had a knack for rhyming,” her sister said, attempting a straight face.

  Daughtry snorted, and they both roared with laughter. When she and Alex finally pulled themselves together, they carefully folded the letters up and put them back into the crate.

  “Had enough?” Dee asked. “There are other crates we can go through.”

  “Enough for today, I guess.” Alex looked longingly at the other boxes. “I’ve got to meet Tyler and then the rest of the LexTals for a meeting.”

  “Oh.” Dee felt a blip of emotion. It was so not jealousy. Definitely not. “I hadn’t realized they were meeting.” She shoved the green feeling away forcefully. Never would she ever begrudge Alex her acceptance.

  “More talking.” Alex grimaced. “Want to come with? I’m sure Dante will call you in anyway.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, telling herself to get a grip. “I’ve got to help Suz in the infirmary. There are still some Rengalla who’ve come in from the edges that need more healing.”

  Alex nodded. “So later?”

  “Later,” Dee agreed. “You still need to give me details on John.”

  Her sister made a fake gagging sound.

  “Come here.” Dee threw out her arms and hugged Alex hard, her voice going a little wobbly. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Even though she felt a little jealous that John had so thoroughly claimed her sister, when she’d just gotten her back.

  But she wasn’t a toddler. She could share.

  Maybe.

  Giving a mental snort at her idiocy, Daughtry pulled back and began packing up the crate.

  “Dee?”

  She glanced up at Alex.

  “I think you should wear that.”

  “Uh… wear what for what?”

  Alex’s face was earnest. “The green dress would be perfect for your wedding.”

  Dee started shaking her head. “No, I couldn’t. I mean—”

  Alex grabbed her shoulders, placed one finger over her mouth. “Just think about it. That dress was worn to celebrate love, and I think you and Cody deserve that. I think our parents—” She cleared her throat. “I think our parents as they were then, would have liked it.”

  A lone tear trickled down Dee’s cheek. Alex wiped it away and hugged her. “I love you,” she said.

  It was a moment before Daughtry could speak. “I love you too.”

  Then her sister was gone, and she was alone, emerald silk slipping over her hands as readily as the guilt sliding through her heart and mind.

  So many secrets. Too many secrets.

  Forget Dante. She had to tell her sister about the Orb.

  Fifty-One

  But days slipped by, and Daughtry never found a good time to reveal the Orb to Alex. She’d hidden it in her quarters, close at hand so she could run tests on it, but nothing in the journals or textbooks had helped her make it do anything other than glow like the world’s greatest lightbulb.

  Even Francis was out of ideas.

  And yet, her instincts kept telling her it was important, that she just needed to figure out how to use it, and that Alex might have some insights that could help. But her sister was either training with Tyler, meeting with Dante and the other LexTals, or holed up in John’s quarters doing God knows what.

  “I think you know what,” Cody thought, crossing the waiting room of the infirmary to buss her on the cheek.

  As usual, his love for her swept along the bond. Nothing felt as good as when her man was near.

  He raised a brow, pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Nothing?”

  “Shush, you.” She slapped a hand across his chest. “I’m working.”

  That sobered him up, and she felt his concern across their link. Dee smothered the urge to smooth away the frown pulling his brows together.

  “And why’s that?” he asked pointedly. “Especially because you’ve worked the last eight days straight, cowgirl. Today was supposed to be your day off.”

  She crossed around to the front of the desk, unable to resist walking straight into his arms. She was exhausted, much more than normal, and slightly dizzy. As much as she hated to admit it, Cody was right. She was nearing the end of her rope.

  “I missed you,” she murmured, nuzzling in to enjoy the scent of sea salt and pine trees that was uniquely Cody’s.

  He hauled her close. “I miss you whenever you’re not in my arms.” Aw. She smiled up at him. “But don’t think that is going to distract me from finding out why you’re working again.”

  Sighing, she gave in. “Mason wanted to plan a special night for Gabby. He’s been on patrol so much that they haven’t spent much time together.”

  “We haven’t spent much time together,” Cody grumbled.

  “We aren’t newly bonded.”

  “If we compare how long we’ve been bonded to the years I’ve been on this Earth . . .”

  “Shush.” Stretching up, she kissed him.

  No surprise that what she had intended as a gentle
peck to stop his grousing turned into much, much more.

  Arms banding even tighter, he pulled her flush against him. His arousal beat at her from across the bond, an intent urge that boiled her blood and reminded her exactly how little time they had spent together.

  “Ugh!” Suz’s voice startled Daughtry out of her daze of desire, and she started to pull back.

  Cody mentally groaned but held fast. And he certainly didn’t stop kissing her.

  “For real,” Suz snapped, stomping into the reception area. “Just go. I was going to tell you to take off early since everything’s quiet, but I can see that’s unnecessary.”

  Cody’s head popped up like a whack-a-mole, releasing Dee’s lips and giving her a second to breathe.

  Okay, maybe five.

  “Thanks, doc,” he said with a smirk and waved at Suz.

  Dee dragged her feet. “But—”

  “Hush.”

  “You’re such a caveman—”

  His mouth took hers again, completely possessing, absolutely plundering. She hardly noticed when he’d scooped her up and carried her from the infirmary, barely registered the bright flashes of color that were the murals seeping through her closed eyelids.

  The only thing that mattered was Cody.

  Well, his mouth and his body and his exceptionally hard c—

  She gasped when he cursed into her mind.

  “Killing me, cowgirl,” he groaned. “Absolutely killing me.”

  “Please tell me we’re almost to our quarters,” she thought, opening her eyes and glancing around blearily. Her mind was so smudged with arousal that she could barely comprehend her surroundings.

  “Two minutes,” he murmured, picking up his pace and speeding them along the corridors. “Then I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Good luck to anyone who tried to stop them in the hall, she thought as Cody sent her a mental video of exactly what he wanted to do once they made it to their quarters.

  Because seriously, any delay and Daughtry might just cut a bitch.

  “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he thought. “You’re so wet and hot and—”