Screw it. I’m going to call a car. I dig my hand into my purse to try to find my phone, but catch it on something sharp. The phoenix. Ice invades my palm, wraps around my wrist, and starts traveling up my arm.
I yank my hand free, but the phoenix comes with it. Its black tail has somehow wrapped itself tightly around my wrist. What the hell? I have to get back to the old woman at the shop. I scream as I try to shake it off. “Help! Somebody—“
The door’s locked, and I bang the heavy statue against the wood. “Hey! I know you’re in there!” After the third time I hit the door with the phoenix, the damn thing cracks into three pieces. Two of them hit the sidewalk, I grab the tail and pull, hard. But the sharp edge pierces my wrist, and then I tumble forward into the shop, the door suddenly gone, the cloying incense making me dizzy. It’s twice as thick as before, and I can’t see through the wisps of smoke.
“Get this thing off of me!” I cry. My entire body feels cold now, and I can’t get up. I can barely move. “What’s…happening?” My teeth are chattering, and my tongue feels thick and unwieldy.
“You are being stolen. I warned you…” the old woman says, her voice echoing all around me.
Smoke obscures everything now. I can’t breathe. Can’t scream. Can’t even cry. My body jerks, and then I’m falling. Forever falling.
Chapter Two
Adrian
From the very top of the cliffs, I take a deep breath. Every day I can stand here in the sun is one I should cherish.
The draught Joran brought me did not give me back my voice. Like all the others, it failed. And as always, it left me writhing in pain as iron seeped from my pores, burning my skin, and leaving me with the most terrible nightmares. Being bound in chains, unable to move, to sleep, held by my father’s Fae magic and that of another. A man whose face I can never see, but whose voice I will never forget.
I woke screaming. Silently.
My small one room hovel is only fifty paces away, and I come to these cliffs every morning to greet the day, to feel the warmth of the sun’s rays on my skin, and to watch the clouds roll by. And to swim. The waters far below me are warm, calm, and crystal clear, letting me see all the way to the bottom of the deep lake.
Naked, I stretch my arms over my head. My joints and my scarred back protest the movement, but I force myself to breathe out slowly against the pain. In the water, nothing hurts me.
A step away from the edge, ready to take off at a run and dive, movement catches my eye from above, and I freeze.
Fuck!
A woman falls to the ground in front of me. A gasp escapes her lips, and she struggles to push herself up onto her hands and knees but fails. I take a step closer, and she screams. “Get away from me!”
Scrambling back, she cowers at the very edge of the cliff, and I hold out my hand.
“I will not harm you.”
She cannot hear me. I lack the mental focus to project my thoughts to her, and she cries out again, clawing at something dark wrapped around her wrist. The movement puts her off balance, and the stones under her—fuck. They are loose.
I lunge for her, but I am not close enough. The rocks give way, and she falls with a high-pitched scream. She didn’t leap. She’ll land too close to shore, where it’s shallow. Dangerous. With sharp rocks that will tear her delicate body to shreds. In the few moments I was close to her, I could tell. She is human. Mortal. She will die.
I back up ten paces, then race for the edge. Diving head first, I close my hands into fists, then punch a hole in the water as I hit. The whoosh in my ears is deafening, and I strain to hear her heartbeat. Any disturbance around me. There is nothing.
Breaking the surface, I take a deep breath and scan the whole of the lake. So very calm. Like glass. Except…one ripple. Close to shore.
Please be alive.
Strong, deliberate strokes carry me closer. The faint, muffled beat of her heart is slowing down. There. Her body lies still on the bottom of the lakebed. Blood stains the water. The moment I touch her, something inside me roars to life, and I scoop her into my arms, kicking hard to carry me the rest of the way to shore until my feet touch the gravely bottom of the lake. I run the rest of the way. The ladder built into the side of the cliff has been there for centuries, but Fae craftsmanship will last an eternity—as will we—and I gently drape my precious cargo over my shoulder and begin to climb.
“Joran. Lash. I need you.”
I repeat the words over and over again as I ascend, praying the healer and my friend will hear me. The woman has not moved. By the gods, I do not even know if she breathes, though I can still hear the very occasional beat of her heart. One thump. Then another. Too far apart.
Strong hands grab for me as I reach the top, and the female’s slight weight disappears.
“No! Do not touch her!”
“My King,” Joran says. “What…why is there…a human here?”
“Give her to me.” On solid ground again, I reach for her, but Lash shakes his head.
“Sire, she needs care. Right now. She will not live much longer. Come.” The healer rushes her to my hovel and lays her out on my bed. Only then do I notice his medical kit.
“Do something. Please.” I crawl onto the bed next to her and take her hand, my fingers skimming over a black circle of stone around her wrist. It feels almost…like scales, and there is an aura to it I do not like. One that stirs a vague memory of…something. But I cannot hold onto the thought as the woman’s skin starts to turn blue. I look from her to Joran to Lash.
“Sit her up,” Lash orders, and I do so. Her clothing is soaking wet, and he cuts her shirt from her body, dropping the shredded material onto the floor. “She has water in her lungs, my liege. It must be removed. An air charm will suffice.”
I have not used a charm in centuries, but Lash is an earth elemental and Joran’s unique gifts only work on fire. I place one hand on her back and another between her breasts. The contact feels too intimate. Too personal. But she needs this.
Lash presses a piece of muslin to a gash in her thigh, and I take a deep breath. Infusing this beautiful, injured creature with the smallest bit of air, I test my abilities. Two drops of water bubble over her lips. It worked. I try again and again and again, until finally she coughs up much more than a dribble and starts breathing on her own.
Kat
My entire body hurts. From my lips to my eyelids to the tips of my toes. But…I’m warm. Lying on something soft. There’s…breathing close by. Where am I?
Opening my eyes takes all the strength I have, and what I see makes no sense. Oil lamps flicker all around this small room, and the walls are roughhewn wood. A face hovers over me, and fear steals all the warmth from my limbs.
“Who…?” I want to ask the man—the very handsome, very shirtless man—who he is and where I am, but all that escapes is a weak whimper. He holds up his hand, then disappears from my field of view. When he returns, he stares down at something, and I hear faint scratching before he holds up an old piece of paper. Beige, weathered, almost.
You are safe here.
The handwriting is shaky, and I stare up into his brilliant blue eyes. I want to ask him so very many questions, but even the idea of speaking is exhausting me. The man starts to write again, and this time when he shows me the paper, he’s added two more sentences.
I am Adrian. I know you are frightened, but I will not let anyone harm you.
He sets down the parchment and slides an arm under my shoulders. Pain shoots down my back, and a faint, keening escapes my lips. The world goes soft and fuzzy as he lifts me slightly and presses something to my mouth.
The liquid is cool, slightly sweet, and definitely alcoholic. I don’t care. I can’t move anyway, and if he’s going to hurt me, I’d rather be drunk or drugged or otherwise out of it than awake. But despite not knowing how I got here, why I can’t move, what left me in so much pain, I don’t believe this man would ever harm me. It’s in his eyes. In the way his brow furrows.
I want to ask, but the lure of sleep is too strong, and I hope when I wake up, this will all be a dream.
Chapter Three
Adrian
“My liege,” Lash says as he mixes another batch of healing tonic for the woman in my bed. She has several broken bones, which he can mend easily and quickly, but her other injuries are much more baffling. “The stone around her wrist. I believe I know what it is.”
I do not wish to let go of my beautiful human, and I arch a brow at him, a weak, breathy grunt the only sound I am still capable of making.
“The Phoenix,” he says, as if I should know what that is.
Shaking my head, I wait for him to explain.
“The Phoenix? Of Osteria?” His dark brows arch, and the look of disbelief on his face stirs my ire.
“For the love of the ancients, Lash. Explain yourself or get out.”
“You were gone too long.” He refuses to meet my gaze, and if it were not for the woman in my arms, I would have him pinned to the wall begging for mercy.
“Do you think so? Two centuries I spent in that hell. Naked. Unable to move, chains burning my skin everywhere they touched, an iron spike above my head delivering the only water I was allowed. Why do you think I cannot speak? Because every drop I swallowed left more of the deadly metal coating my throat. Do you know what it is like to be denied the blessed release of sleep? Of unconsciousness? To pray for death every moment until your mind breaks completely?” I slump back against the ornate bed frame, the burst of mental energy necessary to maintain an unspoken connection overwhelming.
Lash sets down the bottles, rounds the counter, and drops to one knee. “I should never have given up searching, my King. I will beg your forgiveness every day for the rest of eternity and it will not be enough.”
Fuck. It matters not that I refuse to wear the crown, to even step foot in the palace, to accept the title of king. To Lash, Joran, and so many others, I am the only true king. Even my uncle—the man who took on the throne when my father was exiled—would see me crowned.
“Enough of this. Get up and tell me what the fuck the Phoenix of Osteria is. Apparently, I’ve forgotten more than I remember.”
With a nod, Lash rises, and I shift the woman in my arms. She smells like fresh air with the subtle hint of gardenia, and wearing nothing but my shirt, she’s warm against my chest. A weak moan escapes her lips, and I try for a soft shhh to calm her as I stroke her long, black hair.
Lining four bottles up on my counter, Lash sighs. “When the ancients created the many realms, they never intended for their peoples to mix. But the first Fae king did not like the idea of people he could not control. So he set his sorcerers to task. Find a way to travel among the realms, or die.”
Vague memories stir in the back of my broken mind. My tutor’s voice. But I cannot grasp the words.
“This...way? It is the Phoenix?”
“Yes. But such power does not come without a price. In order to lift the veil, there must be blood.” Lash approaches the bed, takes the woman’s hand, and turns it palm up. The gash has mostly healed now, thanks to his salve, but the scar is black as pitch, and dark tendrils snake from her wrist—just beneath the stone—halfway up her arm.
“What are these?” I trace my finger over one of the trails. It’s cold.
“The Phoenix is broken, my liege.” He pulls back the muslin wrapped around her forearm to show me the jagged edge of the stone embedded in her delicate flesh. “I can only speculate. But I believe it is the magic contained within the Phoenix working its way through her body. It…I am afraid it is killing her.”
“You must find a way to draw it out of her.” Panic has me holding her tighter as if my embrace alone can protect her.
“To do that, we need the rest of the Phoenix.”
“Then find it!” I have never wanted the use of my voice more than I do in this moment. Something about the woman calls to me, demands I protect her, and now...to find out whatever brought her here could kill her? I cannot—I will not—allow it. “Search the lake. The cliffs. Find the rest of this Phoenix and bring it to me.”
His deep green eyes hold uncertainty when he meets my gaze. “Of course, my liege. But...”
“But nothing.”
“Do not be angry with me, sire. But...it is possible the rest of the Phoenix is in the human realm. And if it is...”
I nod as fear tightens a knot in my gut. If the rest of the statue is in the human realm, someone will need to retrieve it. Most Fae are not strong enough to cross the veil. And our laws…they only allow for someone of royal blood to interfere in human lives. Though my uncle sits on the throne, he was born a commoner. The duty...would fall to me. The last time I set foot in the human realm, my father imprisoned and tortured me for two centuries. It is the one place I hoped to never see again.
Lash pauses at the door. “You have only to call, and Joran and I will be at your side, my liege. You are not alone. We will report back as soon as we have searched the lake.”
Exhaustion and fear weigh down my limbs. Though my body did not waste away chained to that stone altar, my mind was shattered, and everything I used to take for granted—complex thoughts, worries, even the simple act of eating—now drain me faster than they should. I will rest with this sweet smelling human in my arms and hope that when I wake, they will have found the Phoenix and be able to save her life.
Kat
My left arm is numb. The rest of me…tingles all over. Like I’ve taken the most relaxing bubble bath ever. Like the first sip of champagne on New Year’s Eve—or the after effects of an orgasm.
Wait.
Shit.
I try to sit up, but something holds me down. Something warm and solid. Something that smells amazing. Like cedar and fresh-cut wood and cloves.
“Shhh.”
The quiet sound is right next to my ear, and warm breath tickles my cheek. Oh my God. The man from earlier. Adrian.
“Let me go,” I whisper. “Please.”
His arm slips away, and the blanket rustles as he sits up. When I try, though, the room spins around me, and I fall against his hard chest.
“What’s wrong with me?” My voice is stronger now as panic sends my heart rate shooting up. “Adrian? Tell me.”
He turns me gently so I can see his face, then touches his throat and shakes his head.
“You can’t talk.”
Another shake of his head. He leans me back against the pillows, then makes the universal gesture for “stay there,” before pushing to his feet.
He’s magnificent. And…naked. Oh God. I was in bed with a naked man who looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Or…at least one of his apprentices. I don’t think old Mic would have given one of his subjects such terrible scars.
They mar his back in an intricate pattern, almost like ivy, and they’re so thick, so deep, they pull at his skin with every step. He retrieves a bottle from a stone counter off to one side of the room, then a book and a pen.
It’s only when he turns back to me that he seems to remember that he’s naked, and his cheeks flush bright red. He tries—unsuccessfully—to hide his rather substantial assets with the book as he sets the bottle on the small table next to the bed.
Cradling my numb hand, I stare down at the dark stone trapping my wrist and the black trails that snake down all of my fingers peek out of muslin secured around my forearm, and travel almost up to my elbow. “Shit. Adrian? This is bad, isn’t it?” I poke at one of the black lines, and it’s like someone just injected my entire body with ice.
My cry sends him scrambling back into bed and under the blanket where he pulls me close, then scribbles furiously in the book.
You are no longer in the human world. This is the realm o
f the Fae. I do not know how, but you used a stone artifact—a Phoenix—to travel here. That sort of power requires a sacrifice.
“Sacrifice? I can’t feel my arm!” My eyes start to burn, but I don’t cry. I’m too scared. “I never wanted to come here. My boss sent me all the way to Ireland to get that stupid phoenix, and I only had it for like…five minutes. And what do you mean I’m not in the human world anymore? There aren’t…other worlds!”
Of course there are. Can humans call upon the air at will?
Adrian closes his eyes, and his lips move, but he makes no sound. A breeze whirls around the room, stirring my hair.
“That’s…impossible.” I can’t process all of this. Not what my arm looks like, or feels like, not the scars that cover Adrian’s body, and definitely not this—what?—magic? I don’t even realize I’m shaking until he cups the back of my neck and touches his forehead to mine.
A hint of calm weaves its way through my trembling limbs, and I mirror his position, using my one good hand to slide my fingers into his long, brown hair. There’s a ring of scar tissue around his neck, and the sensation of the abraded skin under my fingers brings me all the way back to whatever fucked-up reality this is.
After a few minutes, he picks up the book again.
What is your name?
His handwriting is getting neater, though how I manage to notice through the haze of fear, I don’t know. “Kat.”
Kat. The draught in that bottle will help the poison from spreading. My people have searched for the rest of the Phoenix, but have not found it yet. It is the only way to heal you.
“Y-your…people?”
Other Fae. Drink, Kat.
I reach for the bottle, but my vision goes blurry. Adrian catches me before I topple over and holds me close.
Well, if I’m going to die, this isn’t the worst way to go. His breath hitches, and he gestures to the bottle.
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