Phoenix Freed

by Elise Faber

  She let it fall, let herself be bundled into Cody’s arms and hustled behind a line of LexTals rapidly firing bullets and power.

  Knives glinted the second she and Alex were safe. They flew through the air, piercing their enemies with disconcerting thunks that left the room clogged with ash.

  And for the first time in what felt like a decade, Daughtry took a breath.

  They were safe.

  Temporarily, she realized as she finally took in the sheer volume of Dalshie pouring into the room. Somehow, despite Alex’s reckless hero antics and the LexTals’ knives, they were still grossly outnumbered.

  For every Dalshie they destroyed, more took the place of their fallen brethren, red eyes gleaming in the bright flashes of magic.

  And the pace of that power wasn’t something the LexTals could sustain. Not to mention, they didn’t have an unlimited source of bullets and knives.

  They needed something—someone—strong.

  They needed the Orb . . . and they needed Alex.

  Who was nearly tapped out. Her sister stood behind John, protected by his bulk, gripping a knife in her hand. But even the most casual observer could see she was barely keeping her feet.

  Daughtry wasn’t tired. Her magic was pouring back into her, regenerating fast because Cody was near.

  Alex didn’t have quite the same luxury.

  Her sister’s bond was still forming, and she didn’t have the easy come-and-go flow of power that Dee and Cody did.

  Dammit. Why couldn’t she use the Orb? For all her talk of destroying the Master if she got close, Alex was far better suited to the task than Daughtry. That much had become ridiculously clear in the last half hour.

  “The Orb?” Cody thought.

  “Long story,” she returned. “Turns out Alex can use it. To, you know, blow holes in buildings and stuff.”

  “Is there a reason she’s not using it now . . . you know,” Cody thought, mimicking her forced casualness, “since we’re in imminent peril and all?”

  “Her powers are exhausted.”

  Cody dodged, shoving Dee’s head down as he ducked. A black spear of magic sizzled over their scalps. “So give her some of mine. I’m used to fighting without it.”

  For one long moment, Daughtry blinked at him.

  Such a simple solution. How had she not thought of it herself?

  “I’ll gloat over my triumph of the fairer sex later,” he thought. “For now, get your ass in gear, cowgirl.”

  So she did.

  Pulling hard on the bond, she allowed their joined magic to pool within her. It crackled along her nerves, made her muscles jittery, and her hairs stand on edge.

  She crawled toward Alex, Cody laying cover, and grabbed on to her sister’s ankle.

  Alex’s eyes went wide.

  “Brace yourself,” Dee gritted. She’d gathered so much power by that point it was difficult to do anything except keep it contained.

  “For what?” Alex asked.

  “This.”

  She released the floodgates.

  Sixty-One

  Alex went ramrod stiff as the magic poured forth.

  For a second, Daughtry was worried she’d hurt her sister, but then Alex relaxed. Color returned to her face, and she stood straighter.

  Which was good, because Daughtry might have given Alex a boost, but power transfers of this sort weren’t the best. Magic was lost to the atmosphere, dissipating before Alex’s body could grab hold of it.

  And while Daughtry and Cody had power to spare, they didn’t have an unlimited supply.

  Almost exactly as that thought crossed her mind, Alex jumped into motion.

  She pulled free of Daughtry’s grip and streaked across the room, snatching up knives from somewhere and producing a wave of ash in her wake.

  Alex’s magic was beautiful, different shades of blue that matched her and John’s eyes, but there was also something terribly striking about the way she wielded it in conjunction with the blades. Her movements were fierce and confident, and there was a beauty in that competence—so much so that Daughtry could hardly take her eyes from her sister.

  The other LexTals, thankfully, weren’t struck dumb.

  They continued to fire their magic and generally engage the Dalshie in a way that Daughtry had a hard time following. Their speed, the brutal contact of magic colliding with skin or shields, and the sounds: crunching of bone, snapping of power, grunts and shrieks and curses.

  It was an assault on the senses that would have made a lesser person run for cover . . . or at least cover her ears.

  But Daughtry did none of those things because that was when she saw him.

  Tyler was moving toward the Master. He had a knife in one hand, but he wouldn’t use his magic, and that made him incredibly vulnerable. If the Master saw him, he wouldn’t be able to protect himself.

  Her eyes went wide. “Cody?”

  He blocked a wave of black magic with a swipe of his hand. Emerald and purple threads collided with ebony, the entire conglomerate disappearing off into space.

  “I see him.” A scrape of sound as he pulled a blade free of the holster on his thigh and pressed it into her hand to replace the knife she’d lost who knew where. “Stay close.”

  Alex was tearing through the room, a beast of magic and blade.

  Cody stayed out of her way as he led Daughtry along the perimeter, but they were both converging on the same point.

  As was Tyler.

  A Dalshie lunged at them from behind. Cody couldn’t move fast enough. He was engaged with a group of the enemy in front of them.

  Daughtry didn’t need his help anyway.

  Thrusting hard, she slid the knife home. It was always easier than one might expect of such an act because the Dalshie were more vulnerable in their chests . . . in the spot protecting their supposed hearts.

  Probably because they didn’t have much of one to guard.

  The blade penetrated the sinew and bone as easily as tearing a tissue.

  Ash.

  “Ugh,” she said, spitting out the disgusting stuff. She always forgot to keep her mouth closed.

  “Come on.”

  Cody didn’t take her hand, didn’t pull her forward. He didn’t have to. She would always be by his side.

  “I’m just the same, cowgirl,” he thought. “Can’t get rid of me now.”

  Promises in the heat of battle. It should be insanity, but Daughtry could feel the tide was actually beginning to turn.

  Alex and the Orb had evened the odds.

  Now they just needed to eliminate the biggest threat in the room: the Master.

  He was watching the battle almost lazily, shooting black fire at the LexTals at regular intervals. No doubt, he was wasting the Dalshie fodder before he put himself at risk.

  But the Dalshie numbers were no longer growing, and the LexTals were making a good dent in those remaining.

  The Rengalla and the Forgotten weren’t unscathed—there was blood running down the face and limbs of most of the soldiers—but no one had died.

  Yet.

  They needed to end this soon, if for no other reason than their luck couldn’t hold out much longer.

  The feminine grunt of pain was loud enough to jerk Daughtry to full attention.

  “Alex!”

  Even as she ran, she knew she’d be too late.

  A knife protruded from Alex’s spine. Somehow her sister had gotten surrounded. Black magic whipped forward, slicing and biting at the exposed skin of Alex’s arms. Blood dripped—no, poured down Alex’s back, coating her T-shirt, and turning it bright red.

  John reached her sister first. He moved like lightning, dispatching the Dalshie encircling her.

  “Don’t move,” Dee panted, skidding to her knees beside Alex. Cody stood in front of them, his knife and magic flashing.

  Alex didn’t listen.

  With a pained sound, she reached up behind her and yanked.

  “No,” Dee said. “Wait—”

&nb
sp; The blade came out. Slowly. Painfully.

  And Alex stood. Somehow, she rose to her feet.

  The knife clattered to the cement.

  “Fuck. You!” Alex shouted at the Master. “Fuck your darkness and your infection. Fuck your cruelty. And certainly, fuck your cowardice.” She spat blood onto the floor. “Now stop lurking and face me head on.”

  Daughtry’s eyes flew to the Master. His blackened lips were curved into a disgusting smile even as he clapped his hands. “Nice speech.”

  But he didn’t step forward. Instead, he inclined his head in Alex’s direction.

  A large Dalshie with a particularly feral expression moved toward her.

  But Alex didn’t cower. Hell, she didn’t even appear to blink. She just flicked a finger in his direction, and he exploded—literally exploded—into ash.

  “And fuck you too, Magnus,” she snarled.

  Cody and John, who’d moved next to Alex’s side in support, stiffened in surprise.

  That was when Daughtry realized something had gone really, really wrong.

  Alex didn’t give her any time to act, though.

  Her sister shot forward, merely a blur of movement, and collided with the Master, knocking them both to the ground.

  The Dalshie who’d surrounded him were ash a heartbeat later, and Daughtry, along with the rest of the Rengalla, were left standing, totally slack-jawed.

  Just that quickly the battle was over.

  Or it nearly was.

  There was only a single Dalshie still alive.

  It was like being on the outside of a schoolyard fight. Alex and the Master rolled around on the floor, landing blows, and Dee didn’t know how to intervene.

  Because along with fists, magic was flying.

  And that was precisely when Tyler decided to make his move, idiot male that he was.

  Sixty-Two

  Alex’s magic slammed into Tyler. He screamed, an awful pained sound, the feral cry of an injured animal, and collapsed.

  Daughtry saw her sister freeze in horror and recognized that Alex had come back to herself, transformed from the fierce warrior into the girl, no the woman who’d given so much of herself to the Rengalla.

  She was moving again almost immediately, but that brief moment of hesitation was all the Master needed.

  He pinned Alex to the ground, one hand holding a blade to her neck.

  “Freeze,” he ordered when John lurched forward. “Or I’ll slice her throat.” The threat was overkill. They wouldn’t disobey the order and risk Alex—not without a plan—but the fact that the Master hadn’t killed her immediately meant he wanted something.

  Magic crackled around his palms, black flames that were burning her sister’s skin, given the smell.

  Daughtry shuddered. “What do you want?”

  The Master shrugged, the movement making the blade rise and drop perilously close to Alex’s flesh. “To live.”

  Her sister’s fingers twitched, an action that didn’t escape his notice.

  “Oh dear girl, you did put up quite a fight, but your magic is running on empty—fancy little trick from your sister or not.” He brought the knife to Alex’s cheek and ran it lovingly across the surface. “Something she’ll teach me when she trades her life for yours.”

  He fixed his crimson eyes on Daughtry. “You’d do that for dear Alex, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course,” Dee said. “Let her go, and I’ll come with you.”

  Cody made an aborted motion, the urge to grab her and yank her behind him loud and clear across the bond.

  But he wouldn’t. Because he would have offered himself in her stead. So would have John and Dante and Morgan.

  The Master cocked his head, an alien-like movement that on the surface was creepy as hell, and yet when he spoke, his voice called to a part deep inside of her. Tempted her.

  “You would, wouldn’t you?” he said. “Well, come here, darling, and we’ll go.”

  She took a step toward the Master and Alex. “Release her first.”

  He rolled his eyes, running his hands along Alex’s body, but not in a sexual way. He was searching, trying to locate the Orb. “And let one of those meatheads have a shot at ending me? No, thank you.” He patted her waist, her thighs. “You’ll come right here, and then I’ll let little sis go.”

  Because pretty soon he was going to run out of real estate on Alex’s body and if he found the Orb . . .

  “What will you do with me?” she asked instead with another step forward.

  The Master stopped his searching for the moment and pursed his lips in a kiss. “Besides father an entirely new generation of Dalshie upon you? I can tell by your lush little body that you’ll be a good breeder, and I need one, now that this bitch”—he glanced down and squeezed Alex’s throat, who gagged, scrabbling at his hands—“killed them.”

  “Stop!” Dee shouted, moving closer.

  The Master loosened his grip, and Alex sucked in air rapidly, tears streaking down her cheeks. He clucked. “Your mother had such great ideas. Never could get them done, though. You, my darling”—he locked eyes with Daughtry—“will be the first in my new army of Dalshie. I must rebuild what I lost.”

  His gaze took on a faraway expression.

  Alex glanced over at Daughtry, nodded.

  She understood the cue and took another step forward. One more and then she was close enough. Daughtry released a shot of purple and green magic to hide the movement of her foot, to disguise the noise of a blade skittering across the concrete, landing straight in Alex’s hand.

  The Master frowned, easily flicking her magic away, but that frown quickly transmuted into surprise.

  Because a blade protruded from his heart.

  For a split second, the Master stayed solid.

  Then he burst into ash.

  When it cleared, Alex was on her knees, blade in her hand. She dropped it, the metal clattering on the cement floor. “It’s over,” she said. “Finally. It’s over.”

  Sixty-Three

  Daughtry stared at herself in the mirror, and tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Stop it,” Suz ordered, dabbing Dee’s bottom lashes with a tissue. “Or you’ll make the rest of us go.”

  “I can’t believe I’m getting married.”

  “Next, there will be babies,” Gabby said and hugged her. “You look beautiful.”

  The room went silent as Suz and Daughtry exchanged a look. Alex grinned.

  “Really?” Gabby stomped her foot. “Why am I the last to know everything?” She placed her hand gently on Dee’s stomach. “Are you really going to have a baby?”

  “Not the last,” Darcy said, nudging her aside. “I’m happy for you, my friend.”

  “Thank you,” Daughtry murmured, her eyes filled with tears again. Turned out a lot of the nauseous feelings she’d been experiencing over the last weeks weren’t because of the Dalshie or her magic, but because she was growing a tiny person inside her.

  Absolutely terrifying.

  But absolutely amazing.

  Gabby squealed, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.

  Suz sighed. “You two are gross.” But she was smiling too. “I am happy for you, though.”

  Alex elbowed them aside. “Okay, okay. Give her some air. Cody has me on LexTal duty, and that means I need to make sure she eats . . . and you know, breathes and stuff.”

  They all laughed. Then Daughtry’s stomach growled, and Suz shoved a chocolate bar in her hand. “Eat. I don’t want to hear Cody whine. That man is going to be hovering—”

  “I don’t hover,” Cody thought.

  “You promised no peeking!” she thought.

  “I’m not peeking, I just miss you.”

  Aw. Her bottom lip trembled. He really was the sweetest man alive.

  “Oh lord,” Suz muttered, snagging the chocolate and replacing it with a tissue. “Tell Cody to hurry up and finish the romantic stuff. We’re going to have to redo your eye makeup before the ceremony.” />
  “Suz says—”

  “I heard that loud and clear. And I could give two damns about eye makeup. You’ll be beautiful no matter what.” His mind brushed hers, and the depth of his love absolutely stole her breath. “You feeling okay?”

  “I’ve only been sick once.” Suz was making a wrap-it-up gesture as Gabby and Alex fussed with something on the table. Dee squinted, trying to see what it was.

  “It’s still early yet,” Cody thought. “You might—”

  “Thanks,” she thought dryly and frowned at her sister. What the heck was Alex doing? “I love you. Even if your sperm makes me puke.” She sent him a mental smooch when he laughed. Just as she’d intended. “So, meet me at the altar?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Cody slid away, letting the bond fade into the background of her mind. Dee turned toward the women. “What are you doing?”

  “Something blue,” Gabby said, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Dee watched her friend attempt to tie a piece of blue ribbon into a bow and fail horribly at it. “Though this looked a lot easier on Pinterest.”

  There was a snort, and they all whipped around. The door was open, and Caroline stood on the threshold, looking beautiful in a cream-colored dress that complimented her olive skin and red hair perfectly.

  Good thing Dee wasn’t wearing white, she wouldn’t have stood a chance against Caroline’s supermodel perfection.

  “There’s a reason they call them Pinterest fails,” Caroline said into the silence. “Here.” She took the ribbon from Gabby’s limp fingers and tied it into a perfect bow.

  After handing it back, she turned to Daughtry. Suz stepped in front of her, personal-shield style.

  Caroline’s lips curved, and for the first time ever, there wasn’t ice in her emerald eyes. “I didn’t come here for that.” She pulled a box from her pocket and thrust it at Dee, who opened the lid with shaking fingers. “Something old.”

  Inside was a phoenix, flaming feathers carved in amazingly intricate detail. “It was my grandfather’s,” Caroline said. “He was one of the first LexTals.”

  Dee traced one of the wings. “I don’t know what to say.”