Phoenix shook her head and added yet one more point to her list of things to be confused about. She really didn’t have the energy to play twenty questions. For a while she drove along in silence, leaving Ethan to his thoughts as she concentrated on the narrow winding back roads.
But the longer she stayed quiet, the more anxious she became. Anxious about the werewolf in her car, anxious about the people they were going to meet, anxious about the dead body she was carting around. Until eventually she needed a distraction.
“Tell me about her.” Phoenix inclined her head towards the young girl lying across the back seat of her car.
Ethan was quiet, and for a moment she wondered if he’d heard her.
“Annabelle was a sweet kid,” he said eventually. “She looked at the world like no one else I’ve ever met. Just an innocent curiosity, never judging.”
“That’s a rare quality.”
He nodded and the skin around his eyes tightened as he glanced into the back seat. “We all tried so hard to protect her, but we were wrong. We didn’t see how strong she was.”
“How did you meet?”
Ethan turned back to stare out into the passing night. “I met her and her sister, Lily, about a year ago in Galway. They were on the streets and running scared.” He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Their parents had been killed, accused of using black magic and sentenced to death by their coven.”
Phoenix’s throat grew dry at the thought of two young girls wandering the streets alone and scared. Memories clawed their way up from the darkness and she gripped the steering wheel tightly. She’d been the same age as Annabelle. But she’d been alone. Sitting in the dark, waiting for her parents to come back, knowing they’d been gone too long.
She forced her hands to relax on the wheel. “The girls didn’t believe it?”
Ethan shook his head. “No, and it wasn’t long before their questions started drawing attention. I helped them out of a spot of bother and they’ve been with me ever since.”
Mulling over the new information, Phoenix tried to reconcile the man sitting beside her with the man that attacked her only a week ago. Sure, he claimed not to have actually attacked her, but he definitely gave a girl mixed signals. That situation seemed so at odds with a man that would help a couple of strangers in trouble; never mind that the man was a werewolf, and the strangers were witches.
Phoenix opened her mouth to ask about the others they were going to meet, but they turned a sharp bend in the road and the charged air around them froze the words in her throat. The hairs on her arms stood on end, but she could see nothing past the dense blockade of trees that lined the road.
“We’re here.”
At Ethan’s instruction, Phoenix pulled the car over to a narrow break in the trees and killed the engine. Silence.
The energy she felt in the air had an almost tangible quality to it, drawing her towards the trees and what lay beyond. Still, she stayed in the front seat, suddenly afraid to leave the safety of the car. A buzzing drew her attention back to Ethan, and she watched as the rough stubble on his chin was illuminated by the harsh glare from his phone.
“The others are here.”
Phoenix sucked in a breath and tried to calm the sudden carnival in her stomach. She didn’t know these people, hadn’t even had a chance to ask about them, and now she was going to get a front seat pass to their grief. Nothing about this felt right.
As if sensing her discomfort, Ethan turned to her. “Maybe it’s best if you wait in the car, at least until I speak to them.”
She nodded her agreement and tried not to let her relief show.
Ethan took a deep breath and slid out of the car. He disappeared into the night before Phoenix could even blink.
Time seemed to pass in slow motion, and with each minute that flicked by on the screen of her dashboard, Phoenix became more on edge. Needing some air, she let go of the safety blanket that was her car and greeted the sharp cold of the night.
No sooner had the car door closed behind her, than a heart-rending scream of anguish cut through the night, chilling her to her core. The cry was filled with such agony that Phoenix’s heart ached, and she wanted nothing more than to get back in her Mustang and leave.
But there was a dead girl lying across the back seat. A dead girl that needed help passing on. So she stayed put, focusing intently on the ground in front of her as she wrapped her arms tightly around her middle.
Phoenix wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting when she heard Ethan clear his throat. She lifted her surprised gaze only to find him standing a couple of feet in front of her. Three others stood in the shadows of the trees.
When did he come back?
“Is she in there?”
The girl, Phoenix could only assume to be Lily, looked vacantly at the car as her quiet, almost toneless voice broke the silence surrounding them.
Feeling awkward and in the way, Phoenix nodded and edged further from the car. “She’s in the back seat.”
Lily continued to stare blankly as if Phoenix hadn’t spoken.
“I brought everything we need for the Ritual but I don’t know where …” Phoenix cleared her throat, unnerved by the watchful gaze of the two male Supes standing on either side of the girl.
As if suddenly becoming aware of the tension around him, Ethan quickly jumped in. “Phoenix, this is Nate, Shade, and Lily, Annabelle’s sister.”
Smiling weakly, Phoenix lifted her hand in acknowledgement.
Nate barely spared her another glance, having shifted his attention to Lily. He seemed young to her; his messy brown hair and casual clothes gave him a relaxed air that she was sure was misleading based on the concern that marred his features. The energy that came from him was similar to Ethan’s, but different somehow, less primal. His features reminded her almost of a fox. A shifter, perhaps?
Shade, on the other hand, kept his icy blue eyes fixed on her. Animosity emanated from him in waves. Although the scowl looked quite at home on his pale face, Phoenix had a strange feeling this one was especially for her. Having lived around a vampire her whole life, his signature was clearer. He appeared young, eighteen or nineteen perhaps, but that was no real indication of his age, only how old he was when turned.
Lily, Phoenix noticed, looked very much like the young girl lying on the back seat. She had similar long blonde hair and the clear sun-kissed skin she imagined Annabelle would have if death had not taken the flush of life from her. But where Annabelle’s features looked youthful even in death, Lily’s eyes bore lines of tension that seemed out of place on someone so young.
Without another word, Ethan leaned into the car and carefully lifted out Annabelle’s body.
Lily whimpered as she reached a hand toward her sister, but quickly pulled it back as if burned. Her whole body was visibly trembling, but her expression remained a fixed mask of uncomprehending shock.
In silence, they each followed Ethan through the forest until the path ahead opened into a clearing. Trees lined the space, forming a natural amphitheatre, and at the centre stood the most beautiful ruins Phoenix had ever seen.
Solid grey stone stood defiant against time and the elements while clearly outlining what had once been a magnificent building. High walls framed the north and south points, each showcasing three large arched windows that stood as proud now as when they were first built. The east and west sides were edged with a jagged perimeter of varying heights, allowing a clear view of the interior with its moss-covered walls and colourful flowers coating the floor.
The silver light of the moon highlighted their path and cast shadows from the imposing stone structure. Power filled the night, growing stronger and stronger with each step they took.
“So, this is the Cathedral?” Phoenix said breathlessly.
Ethan nodded and stepped over a low section of the wall into the ruins. He moved to the centre and gently laid Annabelle’s body on a patch of soft green grass before brushing her hair back from her face.
A little p
iece of Phoenix’s heart broke as she watched him fix the blanket around the young girl, as if worried she might get cold. Immortality had a tendency to make Supes very blasé about life; it wasn’t often they were confronted with the pain of loss. The harsh reminder made her think of Abi and what she might stand to lose if her own immortality had definitely come to pass.
Retrieving the wooden box from her bag, Phoenix quietly placed it on the ground beside Ethan. She watched as he lay the sprigs of rosemary, lavender, and sage around Annabelle’s resting form with care. Even the cold night air couldn’t dampen the soothing fragrance that came from the herbs, and her senses eagerly soaked in the comfort they provided.
The others stood beside them, but no one spoke or made any move to take over. Feeling awkward and unsure, Phoenix busied herself grinding the remaining herbs before bringing the bowl to Ethan’s side.
“Help me?” Ethan’s voice was soft. His large hand rested on her smaller one as she began to move away. For a brief moment, he allowed her to see the raw pain in his brown eyes.
Phoenix took a deep breath, let go of her insecurities, and knelt beside him. She smudged the herbs between her fingers and rubbed them on Annabelle’s energy points: forehead, solar plexus, and just below her naval. With the final preparations complete, she accepted Ethan’s offered hand, and picking up the box, stood back to join the others.
The night fell silent around them, the usual rustle of leaves no longer evident as though even the trees held their breath. All that remained was for someone to speak the necessary words. To complete the ritual.
Aware she was the one with the least emotional attachment, Phoenix considered offering. It seemed unfair for a stranger to speak the final words for Annabelle, but if it had been her sister, she couldn’t imagine having the strength. Thankfully, her internal debate proved unnecessary.
Ethan placed a large hand on Lily’s shoulder and spoke quietly into her ear. Though Phoenix couldn’t make out the words, whatever he said seemed to rouse Lily from her catatonic state. She straightened and squared her shoulders as she shook her head in answer to Ethan’s question. This seemed to be the response he was hoping for because he smiled and squeezed her shoulder before moving to the side.
With a shuddery breath, Lily picked up a rucksack that lay by her feet. She pulled out a small stuffed unicorn and held it to her chest for a moment as she bowed her head. The unicorn was worn and a little dirty; a much-loved possession. Lily ran her hands tenderly over it once more before gently placing it into her sister’s arms. She then turned to Phoenix and held out her hand.
Realising what Lily intended to do, Phoenix handed over the box with its remaining contents. The young girl raised haunted green eyes briefly to meet her gaze before turning to stand by the body of her sister. In a soft, melodic voice, Lily began to speak the words of the Ritual. Verses older than time, written in a language unknown by many, but understood by all.
Phoenix joined the others as they formed a circle around their fallen friend, heads bowed in respect and reverence for the young witch that lay before them. The words grew in strength and filled the air. And with the words, a low keening wail filled the night, making the hairs on Phoenix’s arms stand on end. The sound was laced with such sorrow that it spoke to her soul.
A quick glance showed no reaction from the others, but the sound continued until it became a part of her. As the wind began to pick up, so too did the keening wail grow louder in her ears. The calming aroma of herbs overwhelmed her senses, but there was something else. Something Phoenix couldn’t place.
Before her eyes, the most extraordinary thing happened: Annabelle’s form began to fade. Her extremities dissolved into the currents of air that swirled around them, and Phoenix watched in awe as the body in front of her became little more than a glittering memory carried on the wind.
As suddenly as it began, the wind stopped.
The small stuffed unicorn dropped to the ground, and the night fell quiet. With one final word, Lily crumpled, sobbing as she curled tightly in on herself. Nate rushed to her side and lifted her trembling frame. He cradled her close to his chest, and without sparing the others a second glance, he carried her off into the darkness of the trees.
For a moment, Phoenix, Ethan, and Shade stood inside the Cathedral in silence. Then, with a final glare in her direction, Shade followed Nate, his vampire speed making it seem almost as if he disappeared.
Ethan crouched to pick up the unicorn and placed his hand on the ground for a brief moment before he stood, staring into the darkness after the others.
The simple truth weighed heavy on Phoenix’s shoulders. “They blame me,” she said.
Ethan shook his head. “They’re just hurting.”
“They should …”
He looked at her quizzically, the hint of yellow in his normally brown eyes telling her his wolf had also been present in the clearing with them.
“Blame me …”
“This isn’t your fault, Phoenix. I was wrong to make you think that. Annabelle made her choices. We all make our choices.”
His voice was firm, conviction evident, but his words from earlier that night replayed in her mind. I needed you to understand. He had asked for her help, but she had clung to the safety of her ignorance.
Yes, she’d made a choice. She just wasn’t sure if it was the right one anymore.
“Will they trust me enough to let me help?”
The intensity of his gaze burned into her as if trying to see into her soul. “Do you want to help?”
“Yes,” she said, letting him see the truth of her words as she looked him in the eyes.
“Then we’ll find a way to make them trust you.”
Leaning back in his office chair, Il Maestro forced his expression to remain neutral as the vampire in front of him finished providing his report.
The witches were dead. And not a single one of them for the purpose of the sacrifice.
His blood boiled.
He picked his glass of whiskey up from the desk and slowly stalked towards the other vampire. “So, you’re telling me no one knows who killed the witches?”
The vampire shook his head and visibly stiffened as Il Maestro moved closer to him.
“Belinda?”
“Dead,” the vampire responded with his eyes fixed straight ahead.
“The sacrifice?”
A hesitation. “Missing.”
Considering this new turn of events, Il Maestro stared at the rich amber liquid as it swirled around the crystal glass. He walked in circles around the vampire and mused on how difficult it was to find good security nowadays.
“Il Maestro, if I might just say –”
The security guard’s words were cut off with a gurgle as two sharp fangs pierced his flesh, and in one swift motion, a chunk was torn from his throat.
“No, you may not just say.” Il Maestro spat the thick, viscous blood out and wiped his mouth with the silk handkerchief from his pocket.
He stepped over the still-twitching body and reached for the phone on his desk. “Raphael, get me Belinda’s second-in-command.
“Oh, and get a cleaner to my office. One of your staff has made something of a mess.”
Ethan stared out of the car window and into the night beyond. The darkness gradually shifted from almost complete black, to an odd, orange luminescence as they got closer to the city. His mind raced with unanswered questions. Despite what he’d told Phoenix, it was highly likely that the others would blame her, at least indirectly, for Annabelle’s death. He had no idea how to convince them to accept her help, but he knew he needed to.
“Did you hear it?”
Phoenix’s softly spoken question broke his train of thought and he looked around in confusion, listening intently for any unusual sounds.
“Hear what?”
She kept her eyes straight ahead and adjusted her hands uncomfortably on the leather steering wheel. “The keening … during the Ritual.”
Well, that g
ot his attention.
Twisting his body as much as he could within the confined space, he looked at her intently. “What are you talking about?”
“It was so sad. I mean, of course the Ritual was heart-breaking,” she quickly clarified, throwing an apologetic glance his way, “but I’ve never heard a sound filled with such sorrow.”
A shiver ran down his spine.
Shit. A banshee’s wail?
He blew out a long breath and watched her closely for any sign of awareness. Could she really not know?
“Phoenix, one of your parents is fae, right?”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding. “My mother.”
“Did she ever mention anything about the banshee?”
The look she gave him was one of such complete and utter surprise that he could guess the answer even without a response.
“No, she … Are you saying I heard a banshee?”
“Well, I didn’t hear anything so I can only guess. But it fits.”
“You really didn’t hear it?” she asked incredulously.
Ethan shook his head. “The banshee is only connected to particular families, and only members of that family hear her cry.”
Phoenix drummed her nails impatiently on the steering wheel as she pulled to a stop at a red light. “Why did you ask about my mother?” She turned to face him.
“I’ve only ever heard of the banshee being linked to fae families. Powerful families.”
She seemed to mull this information over, not offering any further insights to confirm or deny his observation. When the light turned green, they drove along the quays in silence until they hit another red light and she faced him again.
“Ethan? You’re meant to hear the wail of the banshee whenever someone close to you dies, right?”
He nodded.
“I’ve never heard it before,” she whispered.
An odd look of pain crossed her features that he couldn’t understand. Surely it was a good thing that she hadn’t heard it before?
***
Ethan directed Phoenix to the old converted warehouse he currently called home, and she drove in subdued silence. Nate’s blacked-out Civic was already parked at the side of the building as they pulled up in front, and he could feel her tense beside him. He waited to see if she’d back out, but she got out of the car, closed the door firmly behind her, and followed him up to the top floor without a word.
3 Minutes to Midnight: Urban Fantasy Midnight Trilogy Book 1 Page 8