Fire Danger

by Claire Davon

  His brown eyes met hers. She toyed with a fork, and he mimicked the motion. She sent out a small, questing probe and discovered that their minds were lightly linked, but his was well shielded. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but the reason for the emotion lay behind his shield. She probed a little deeper, trying to slip around his defense.

  “Stupid people eating. They’re all so fucking stupid. They better leave a big tip.”

  Startled by the thoughts, Rachel looked around. Her gaze landed on the waiter, and she decided that the petty anger was coming from the man, an anger revealed when she had let slip her basic shield to try and probe Phoenix’s mind more deeply. The waiter rushed over. Nothing of the emotions roiling through his mind showed on his face.

  “May I get you something?” he asked, all obsequious manners.

  She resisted an urge to laugh loudly. Rachel asked for coffee.

  A quick glance at Phoenix told her he’d heard the thoughts as well. “Everyone is petty. Sometimes it’s better to be among the clouds.”

  She let her last question lurk uppermost in her mind.

  “I don’t know why Haures didn’t kill you. She’s clever, and never straightforward, and she always has a reason for acting the way she does. You were a sitting duck until your powers surfaced. I don’t know, Rachel. I don’t know if it’s that she deemed you important, or if you are just a red herring.” He grinned, his teeth flashing. “Maybe she thought a girlfriend would distract me from my Challenge. In that, she was right.”

  He projected an image to her of them making love on the mountainside, and Rachel flushed. Desire curled deep within her, and she wished they were alone, naked, somewhere outside, their bodies slick with sweat and oiled with essences from their lovemaking. Her flush deepened at the knowing look on Phoenix’s face.

  “Come, let’s continue our mission. I would like to get you home, so…”

  Her mind finished the sentence for him, and she shot back her own image of licking him, visualizing the action from her point of view—a tangle of legs and hair, his flesh jutting in between.

  Phoenix’s eyes darkened.

  They finished dessert and he called for the check. His actions were graceful, the mark of a man who knew how to move easily in cultured circles. She wondered again how the Elementals got by in this world. What did they do when they weren’t preparing for their Challenges? Or were they always preparing for their Challenges? Phoenix presented a black credit card to the obsequious waiter with unkind thoughts, his manner betraying nothing of what they had heard.

  They rose and exited the hotel together, the waiter bowing low to the Elemental. Despite the waiter’s foul thoughts, Phoenix must have left a generous tip, she decided. He linked his hand with hers. He was already scanning the buildings again, his eyes flitting from one window to another.

  Brienne was outside, and she only shook her head at Phoenix’s raised eyebrow.

  “I had hoped to find him before the mayor’s visit, but time is short,” Phoenix said. “We may have to do it on the wing. If we have no power to hear the human, we may have to trap him on the day of the event, and stop him in the act.”

  “That seems risky. Shouldn’t we find him before he tries to kill the mayor?”

  “There’s nothing we can tell the police that they won’t already know. Saying to them that an assassin guided by a Demonos is going to try to kill someone will get us thrown in jail.”

  Rachel found an image in her mind of holding out her hand and melting a prison door lock. Her palms itched. She found the image more satisfying than she had imagined. “Jail couldn’t hold us,” she said, tossing the image at Phoenix.

  He grinned, giving her a narrowed look of passion. Brienne coughed and he turned to the wolf.

  “There is no alternative. We have to stop the assassin’s plan at its source. It is risky to wait until we can flush him out, but unless we get lucky, we have no choice.”

  * * * * *

  Them! From his higher vantage point at his apartment window, Ron saw the pair from the wharf strolling down Market Street, hand in hand, acting as if they were tourists.

  They were there to find him. They would stop him if they could.

  He could take the woman out. Ron calculated the range from the window, and then aimed an imaginary rifle. He had the perfect one on the table. He could feel it in his hands, could see through the scope as he aimed and fired at the blonde. He could almost see her head shatter into a cloud of blood and bone, exploding all over the sidewalk and the foul man next to her.

  It would be satisfying to see her die. He wanted to do it now. He wanted to make it personal. He wanted to run down there with a knife, stab it into her back, pierce her lungs and watch her life ebb away before him. He wanted to watch the big man look on helplessly as she died, knowing Ron was better than him, because Ron took his love.

  The being’s words came back to him.

  No killing before you finish your job.

  Ron sighed and let the curtain fall back.

  He couldn’t kill anyone yet. But after the job was done…

  After the job was done, she would die.

  * * * * *

  The easiest way to his destination was across the ocean, but he was weaker, out of flying practice. Without the resources of his clan, he had little money and nowhere to lie low. So he flew, first up across northern Africa to southern Europe across the Mediterranean. He stopped when he got tired, landing in remote places to avoid being detected. Humans didn’t concern him, but others like him, especially others of his race, were a worry. He could take most of them with his superior height and fighting prowess, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

  His wings were tiring. It was time to land for the night and find some wild food before he settled down into a place half concealed by dusk and half by his power to cloud humans.

  Soon enough, he would be in San Francisco. Then, he would accomplish his task.

  He found a promising location near a forest. Forests weren’t his favorite place. There were too many trees, but they provided cover and food. Wild game would do tonight. He was in the mood to roast something. If it were still living when he did so, that would be better.

  Soon enough. Soon he would finish what he had begun fifteen years ago. The abomination would not survive a second time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fire. Phoenix was bathed in fire. His skin melted and his organs exploded, bursting out from the heat of the volcano. Thrihnukagigur had been the volcano he’d been compelled to that time, one of the many volcanoes in Iceland. He’d descended into the magma chamber, found the seam and flown into the heart of the volcano, deep under the earth. The heat and ash burned his face even before he’d plunged into the magma, before it stripped all humanity from him.

  Even after so many times going to the fire, he still crumpled when the fire claimed him. There was nobody to witness his fear, no one to taste the terror and dread that were part of him every time he went to the fire of the Phoenix resurrection.

  He was never sure when he was going to get called to the pyre. It always occurred after they lost a Challenge, but the compulsion could happen at any time.

  The last time, after World War II, was still seared inside him. The volcano, an active tourist spot, was benign on the surface, like all Iceland volcanoes, capped with snow and frost. But inside, deep beyond the reach of humans, bubbled the monster that would be his punishment.

  Once Phoenix had thought to resist the compulsion. He had decided he simply would not go to Mount Pinatubo in the Philippines, despite the picture in his mind. He ignored his wings when they appeared on his back, and fought the need to fly. Stubbornly, he had tried to go about his day-to-day business in the small cabin he had occupied at that time. Suddenly he had simply taken off, his wings launching him into the air despite his grabbing on to anything in the cabin he
could to stay earthbound. He had flown to the volcano anyway, his wings directing him where the picture in his mind told him to go. The plunge into the middle of the volcano had been swift and merciless, as if in punishment for his defiance. Flakes of hot ash were all around him as he plummeted, down into the split in the earth, seeing tendrils of red-hot magma and then the bubbling center of the caldera, lazily burping its contents.

  It was the first and last time he had fought the fire.

  The resurrection seemed to hurt more than normal, each organ and piece of flesh coming back on his body deliberately painful. He lay on the lip of the volcano, first just ash and then the makings of a man, until finally he knit back together into the form of the smaller Phoenix and soared, a harsh cry on his lips, high into the sky and away from the scene of his resuscitation.

  It never changed, the dance with the flames. The only thing that was different was the choice of volcano, and of course the ever-present question about whether this would be the time he didn’t resurrect. It was how the Phoenix went, if he wasn’t killed by a Demonos. The last Phoenix had gone into Anyuyskiy volcano in Russia, now dormant, but back then a still-active option. From what Aleric had learned, the other Elementals knew instantly when the Phoenix perished. His mind signature became birdlike and then, with a heavy cry, vanished.

  Aleric had been compelled to go there, a destination that was close at hand due to the battles he was fighting. He didn’t know why or anything other than that he had to go to the mountain. He had been met there by a strange couple, who told him what he now was. He hadn’t believed them until the wings erupted on his back. From one second to the next, his life changed.

  Phoenix turned in his sleep and felt the soothing touch of Rachel in his mind, her hands also on his body.

  “If you lost, there would be no reason to send you to the fire anymore. Lose, Phoenix. Give up the fight. Life will be pleasant without people,” Haures said.

  Rachel’s mind was with him again, stronger, dipping into his mind like a cool drink of water.

  “Just walk away, Phoenix,” Haures continued. “Look what your life can be.”

  They were standing together on a steppe in Russia again, not too far from the original place where he had first taken the mantle of the Phoenix. Rachel, a strong, powerful Rachel, looked at him with approval and desire, squeezing his hand. All around them was first rock and then, beyond that, trees.

  They both had wings. His usual red-orange wings were on his naked back. Rachel also had wings, smaller and a little more leathery in consistency, similar to the wings her grandfather had.

  Rachel had been restored to her Ifrit heritage. She was a worthy partner for an Elemental.

  Former Elemental. In this world, there was no longer a need for Elementals.

  He reached out with his mind and felt no human signatures. Even in the wilds of deep Russia, he should be able to hear people, but all he heard were the mental echoes of other beings. There were halflings like Rachel, but nothing pure human.

  This was the aftermath of the Challenges, in which the Elementals had lost everything. It was a world free of people and their destructive ways. A world where paranormals did not have to hide.

  In this age of modern man, he had assumed the final battle would be nuclear, but he sensed no radiation. Supernatural beings would survive, but he had expected that the infrastructure of the world would be destroyed along with humans.

  “There is another way. Humans design the most interesting things in labs.” Haures spoke again, and this time her tone was almost gleeful.

  His dream self nodded, as if it made sense. It did, in a dreadful way. If there was something, a virus or disease, that could destroy only people, then the world would be left as it was, minus Homo sapiens.

  If it could be done, they would be finished with this endless battle and would be left to live out the rest of their lives in peace. He did not know if, after the Elementals had discharged their appointed jobs, they would remain immortal. He didn’t know why Challenge occurred. Sphynx was committed to solving the mystery, but they had so far been unsuccessful. Phoenix didn’t know if the sides of “good” and “evil” would vanish if there was ever a time when there was no need for a Challenge. All these years he had fought when the time called for it, large battles and small, doing his duty when he was told to. He had grown so weary of it sometimes his teeth ached.

  He could walk away. He could leave San Francisco tonight and let the events play out as Haures wanted them to. He could let whatever the Demonos set into motion occur. Abdicate his appointed responsibility. Take Rachel and enjoy life.

  It would be so easy to let it happen. He owed humans nothing.

  “No, Aleric. No!” Rachel’s voice was shrill.

  It was a cry of anguish and fury, and it pierced through his dream. He came awake to Rachel shaking him ferociously. Her hair was tangled as if she had woken from a sound sleep. Her naked body had goose bumps on it. The look on her face was part worry and part absolute rage. “Wake up, Aleric. Wake up.”

  He grunted to indicate his conscious state, but she kept shaking him.

  “Wake up. Wake up.”

  * * * * *

  Rachel wanted to shake him and go on shaking him. She had woken from an exhausted sleep to agitation in Phoenix’s mind and a strange feeling of wrongness. His shields had been up but distress leaked under the barrier. Fear, terror and, finally, the desire to forget all about being the Phoenix and walk away boiled within him. There had been a subtle push encouraging him to do just that. Without a doubt Haures had a hand in that push.

  “I’m awake, Rachel.”

  “Are you?” She flipped on the sleek black nightstand light, which lit the room with weak illumination. Shadows danced on the walls as she turned to him. JT shook awake, seemed to see that the others were not paying him any attention and put his head down to go back to sleep, meowing once as if annoyed at being woken.

  “Char and burn! I’m awake.” Phoenix threw the covers off and rose, naked, from the bed. With an agitated stride, he crossed the room to the blind-covered window and pulled the shade up so the sky was revealed.

  His wings hadn’t appeared. Whatever the late-night disturbance was hadn’t been enough to trigger the signal that sensed danger. A bone-deep relief shot through her that whatever this was did not call for wings.

  Pushing his hands through his already messy brown hair, Phoenix studied the sky.

  “How much of it did you feel?”

  With a lack of modesty that would have shocked her a few days ago, Rachel also got out of bed, similarly naked, and joined him by the window. “Just impressions.” She pointed to the cityscape beyond the window. “Are we expecting guests?”

  He shook his head but didn’t take his eyes off the window. After a few moments, Rachel let her hand fall. “No. I…no.” He continued to peer out, and then finally turned to meet her eyes.

  The shadows on the wall were matched by the ones on his face. Dismayed, Rachel put her arm around his back. His muscles were tense and bunched under her fingers.

  “It would be so easy,” he said.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Why not, Rachel? What are we fighting for? Humans are cruel, and weak, and they hate—so much hate. If we let it happen, didn’t fight it, maybe there would be peace.”

  “You would hate yourself.”

  “I would have you.”

  She let out a breath, and opened her mouth to speak. Then she shut it and let the silence play out, telling him without words where that idea would lead.

  He locked his eyes on hers but she didn’t flinch. Finally he sighed as her meaning became clear. “I know. You have a strong sense of right and wrong. You are right and I am wrong.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her so close she could feel the shift of small muscles in his arms and torso. Her hea
d was pressed against his collarbone and neck, and she could feel the beat of his jugular under her cheek.

  “Thank you for making me remember why I fight. I won’t let the human race down. I won’t let you down. It is hard sometimes, remembering why we do this.”

  She pressed a kiss against his unshaven cheek. His small sigh told her the touch was welcome. “You do it because it is the right thing to do. Haures wants to destroy your volition so she can take you down without a fight. I know that people can be petty and awful. I have been on the receiving end of it. There is a lot of good that humanity has done. Look at the cities. Look at the Internet. Medicine. Science—we can see everything from atoms that make up things to the stars in the sky. Bicycles. Wicker baskets. Parachutes. Vaccines. We can go places and see things today that people in your original time could never have dreamed of. We’ve been to the moon. We have machines on Mars showing us that planet. Humans are flawed, but we bring so much to the world. We are worth saving.”

  “They are worth saving. You are not human.”

  A flush crawled up her cheeks at his pointed reminder. “Part of me will always be human. I was born and raised human. So were you.”

  He pulled back and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You remind me of something I had almost forgotten. Thank you.”

  He kissed her. His body curved protectively around hers, deep emotions searing through him. Being able to hear thoughts was sometimes unpleasant, as she discovered every time she touched another’s mind. There were petty, brutal things in many people. Casual cruelty locked away in what they believed was a safe haven. But there was beauty, too, and emotions that were never as perfect as songs and stories might portray. They were flawed, as all things were.

  Just like people were damaged and beautiful, all at the same time. Most of humanity she had encountered had not been kind to her, and another person might have let the end happen. “We will do this,” she said. “You and me, together. We will stop this.”