by Marie Hall
As if on cue, Sable came out of the bathroom, wearing a large happy smile and the new clothes he’d gotten her. Her hair was damp but gleamed like polished wood. Her face was clean, clear of dirt and grime. She looked completely different from the girl he’d rescued two days ago.
More youthful, less laden with the cares of the world. The bruises on her face and neck were healing nicely, another day and they’d be gone completely they were so faint now. Part of being the phoenix was faster than normal healing, she’d need that.
Sable sat and bit her lip. “I like the clothes,” she said it with reluctance.
He grabbed the ketchup bottle and squeezed a little on his plate and dumped a lot on hers. “Do you? I’m glad. I worried about the shirt.”
The best way to get her to calm down was to just pretend nothing they did was abnormal. Hunter got the sense this phoenix did not like being beholden to others, fine by him.
“Oh no,” she grabbed a fry and then dropped it quickly, waving her hand, “hot little bastards,” she huffed, and then picked it up again, but this time by its tip, “it’s my favorite actually.”
“Good,” he said, still acting nonchalant, “that’s good.”
They ate in silence for a bit, she dipped fry after fry into her ketchup and was on her second serving of ketchup when she finally spoke up. “That wasn’t an accident was it?”
He took a giant bite out of his double patty cheeseburger, speaking around his food, “what?”
“The clothes. The body spray. You really do know me, or knew me,” she frowned, “the Phoenix at least. Whatever. We really did fight together before didn’t we?”
He quirked his brow, giving silent assent.
“But I wasn’t me though right?” She touched the center of her chest.
“Why do you ask that question?”
“Because when I dream of the Phoenix I don’t see me. I see a different person. I don’t understand how she and I share so many of the same traits.”
“Maybe it’s not you.” He shrugged. “Maybe those traits belong to the Phoenix.”
She blew out a deep breath, her burger only half eaten, when she finally pushed the plate away. “I’m full,” she sounded glum again. He would have asked her what was up, but she’d always worn her emotions on her sleeve. He could almost see her tongue dancing behind her mouth, ready to explain. He’d give her the time to work up the courage.
He finished his burger before she finally did it.
“Dammit, Hunter, I don’t want to be on some apocalyptic journey. I don’t want to do this. All last night I kept seeing fat bastard’s face twisted and bloated with blood.” She shuddered. “This isn’t supposed to be happening,” her voice cracked.
He pushed his empty plate away and leaned back against the tacky avocado green plastic booth. “But it is happening. We can’t stop it. We can’t change what is now, only what is to come.”
She toyed with her fork, dragging it along the plate. “I know that. I think I’ve finally accepted it. I dream of that psycho almost every night. Long before I ever even met you, I knew Dragden.”
He nodded. “He haunts you, Sable, because the Phoenix recognizes him as her greatest enemy and one she’s been unable to vanquish. She’s become obsessed with her need to end him. None of this will stop until he’s dead.”
She closed her eyes, dropping her head into her hands. “Before I agree to this, I have to know. How did you find me? How did you know it was me?”
He’d been expecting her to ask that question eventually. He draped his arm over the back of his seat. “You tried to kill yourself once.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.
“I knew that you were depressed, but we weren’t really getting along by that point anymore so I couldn’t talk with you. Couldn’t help you. You were as vital to the fight then as you are now and,” he shrugged, twisting his lip, “call me selfish, but I needed you too much to let you go. So I plucked one of your feathers out while we were fighting.”
She frowned. “How does that...”
“Your feathers can be used as beacons to find you or any of your incarnations. At least that’s what you told me then.”
She grabbed her soda and took a look drag from it. “So who was she? I keep seeing a raven haired woman, but the eyes are the same.”
He shook his head. “Even though I’ve known you and experienced your Phoenix before, she still amazes me. You are correct. Her name was Errol.”
She scratched her neck, worry gleamed back at him. “Why didn’t you get her? Why me? I’m from the past. It would seem that she’d have more to gain helping you then I would.”
He could tell her he didn’t have a choice, that the feather led him to the strongest pulse of the Phoenix, that he’d never intended it be her at all. But he knew she’d suffered too much rejection already. To tell her that, to admit it, would only hurt her and possibly ruin this alliance. So he told her a half-truth. “Because there was darkness in Errol.”
She licked her lips, picking at a chipped spot on the table. He could read the curiosity written across her face, he expected her to ask him more about her. But she surprised him.
“Then what’s the plan? How do we stop this?”
He checked his sigh of relief, Errol was a topic he’d rather not discuss in depth just yet. “We find the others and we go to the first Lord.”
She sighed. “But I’ll kill them. One scream out of my mouth and they’ll be dead.”
He shook his head.
“I’ve seen it happen, Hunter. How can I be any help when my powers make me so dangerous to everyone around me?”
“That’s because you didn’t know what you were doing. You can direct that sound to many or to just one. You make a conscious choice and then you strike.”
She frowned. “But my nanny? I killed her in my sleep, Hunter. I wasn’t trying to scream, it just happened.”
“I know, and you did it to me the other day. Simplest explanation I can give is it’s like a steam valve. Release a little pressure every day, bit by bit, and you’ll be fine. But if you swallow it, hold it in, eventually that pressure builds, because it has to escape, except when it does it’s an explosion with deadly consequences.”
“So use it. Don’t be afraid of it? That’s what you’re saying.”
He nodded.
“And the more I use it—”
“The quicker you’ll learn to control it,” he said, finishing her thought. “It’ll be more like an arrow as opposed to shrapnel the more you fine tune your skills. Use it, Sable. Become who you were always meant to be.”
“Then let’s do this quickly because I can’t take any more.”
He got out of the booth and held his hand out to her. She took it hesitantly. “Let’s go find our healer then.”
Chapter 10: When the healing kills
Darkness.
Madness.
Magic.
Arianna shot up in bed, her sweat soaked hair clung to her forehead and neck. Her heart twisted in her chest. The presence of the dream lingered in her room like a predator crouched in shadow ready to strike for the kill.
She swallowed the bile trapped in her throat and kicked off her sheet. A rush of air swept through her window, cooling her body and bringing her more fully awake.
Outside the noise of nocturnal beasts filled the air like an eerie melody. Locusts chirped, bats screeched, and constrictors slithered.
She padded on silent feet toward her window and stared out at the jungle she called home. The faint buzz of energy hummed through her veins.
Taking deep breaths, she hung her head and willed herself to calm.
A door slammed. The pounding of several footsteps traveled up the soles of her feet.
She twirled and ran toward her bedroom door. Laying her head against the wood she listened, hearing only the deep timbre of muffled voices. It was not uncommon for her father to be visited in the dead of night by those requesting her... services
. Cracking the door open a sliver she peeked out.
Five men, dressed in military fatigues, with machetes and rifles strapped to their backs surrounded her mother and father.
“Arquimedes Morena?” The leader, a dark haired pock faced man, barked.
Her father grabbed her mother and shielded her behind his back.
“Yes.” His voice was confident, powerful.
She stared hard at her parents by the reflection of a mirror. Only because she knew her father so well she was able to read the fear he masked with a false coolness. It scrawled a subtle, yet powerful trail through his eyes.
Arianna blinked, groaning low as a rising thrum of crystal resonance built to the bursting point inside her skull. She grabbed her head, clenching her fists until her nails dug into her flesh.
Something was wrong.
This wasn’t right. Callers came with gifts, not weapons. The men had hard, lecherous eyes. A man toward the back of the group caressed his rifle with the delicate touch of a lover, his gaze unswerving.
Fear slithered down her spine and wrapped a hard fist around her heart.
The man in front had his arms crossed behind his back and continued to stare at her father for what felt like hours before he finally smiled.
“So you are the viper in our midst?” He laughed, the inhuman sound dripped with scorn and sarcasm. He drew a line in the dirt with his booted toe. “Why Hector would bother with something as pathetic as you I’ll never know. But I don’t ask questions.”
Her father’s eyes grew wide and he mouthed the name.
Papa, who is it? Who is Hector? What does he want with us? Papa, please...
Hija, hide. Get back!
His reprimand ripped like a lash through her mind.
She moaned and grabbed her brow.
Papa, I can’t leave you. I can’t leave mama. I’m scared.
Yes! You must. We knew this day would come. We have to protect who you are at all costs. Dejame ya, y vaya con Dios.
“But I pride myself on my fairness,” the leader continued on, none the wiser to the private conversation taking place before him.
A soldier snickered behind him. The leader narrowed his eyes and twirled on the man, stabbing his blunt finger hard enough into the man’s chest to make him stumble backwards. “If you don’t want to share the same fate as them, Alex, then you’d do well to mind that tongue of yours. Entiendes?”
“Si.” The man bobbed his head up and down, eyes bulging wide. “Lo siento, senor.”
The other soldiers stood as silent sentinels, guns pointed at her parent’s midsection.
The flicker of candlelight created dancing shadows upon the guerillas’ faces, transforming them from human to diablo.
“If you can cross this line,” the leader pointed to the ground, “then you and your family,” he glanced at the door she hid behind--she gasped-- “are free to go.”
Papa! Don’t step over the line. Don’t do it. Please. I’ll save you.
Arianna screamed telepathically. She knew the leader lied. Could taste the falsehood quivering on the air like the silky strands of a spider web.
No, Arianna, it is our time. The Father keep you, my lovely dove.
Her father stepped one foot over the line.
“Hector Delgado gives his regard,” the leader said. The roar of bullets entered her father’s gut. His eyes bulged as he grabbed at his stomach to staunch the blood.
Her mother screamed and clung to her father.
Arianna threw the door aside and ran. “No! Papa.”
“Arianna—” Her father coughed up a crimson puff, wheezing desperately for air. “Leave.” He closed his eyes.
“Filthy dog.” The pock faced man spit by her father’s foot.
One guerilla twirled on her, his gun raised, his hard black eyes reptilian in appearance.
“Arianna, go. Run away,” her mother urged.
“Papa,” she screamed and fell to her knees. There was so much blood. Everywhere. How could she heal him?
The leader smirked. “Gasoline.”
Arianna didn’t care what the men did now. Tears blurred her vision and her mind was tortured with dark images of hatred and agony. Rage rose inside her.
Three of the soldiers’ walked outside and returned with metal cans of sloshing fluid.
A guerilla grabbed Arianna by the scruff of her nightgown and threw her into her father’s kneeling body.
Breath left her on impact. She scrabbled to her knees and clutched at her mother’s arms. “Mama. Mama.”
The room filled with the metallic waft of gasoline. She choked on it. Dizzy and disoriented.
“Kill them. Then burn it down.” The leader’s voice was guttural, ruthless. He turned, walked out and never looked back.
A guerilla walked up to her mother. A hungry grin on his lecherous face. He took his machete and skewered her through the gut.
Her mother went stiff in her arms.
“I’ll kill you,” she said it so quietly that it was almost a whisper. She clenched her fist, shaking violently.
The last soldier pointed a rifle to her head. She saw his hand on the trigger. Saw his finger pull back and something inside her snapped.
She shot to her feet and lifted her arms. A consuming heat shot through her head and filtered through her body.
A scarlet shower exploded from her fingertips. The dagger shaped projections entered the soldier’s like cut glass. The sparks of her power ignited the gasoline.
Arianna’s body shook as the magic flowed through her. Then darkness invaded her mind and she knew nothing.
***
Heat, awful and thick crowded her. Arianna tried to take in a breath. It seared her lungs. The cloying smoke had her choking on her own saliva.
She turned her head and opened her eyes. The world was in chaos. Fire licked at the furniture, at the sprawled bodies of guerillas. Their slashed throats a gruesome testament to her...what? She’d never manifested power like that before. She’d been a healer. Not a...a killer.
Her stomach churned at the sight of their festering flesh.
“Ari...” a weak groan pulled her gaze from the horror of the bodies to her mother.
“Mama. You’re alive. How? I...”
Her mother coughed. She lay in a bright pool of scarlet. “Run, Ari. The house will collapse soon.”
She scrabbled toward her mother. The roof of the house began to groan. “No. Let me heal you. We’ll leave together.”
“No. There is no time. Ari, you must go now. Don’t let our deaths be in vain.”
Hot tears slid down the corners of her eyes. She shook her head. “Mama, no. Do not ask me to do this.” She hacked on the choking black smog.
Her mother reached over, pried a machete from one of the dead man’s hands and pulled it to her own neck. “Go!”
Arianna’s hands shook. “Mama,” she croaked.
“I love you,” she said, then sliced the machete from ear to ear.
The left side of the roof collapsed. Sparks of burning wood shot through the air like a missile, puncturing Arianna’s arm. With a strangled cry she shot to her feet and ran out.
Her feet touched wet grass and a loud groan exploded behind her. She stopped and turned, transfixed by the site of the raging inferno. Numbness spread through her limbs.
Everything she’d ever loved was in that house. The heat singed the hairs from off her arms. With one last lingering look she turned and fled.
Branches slapped her face, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. She ran heedless of the night’s dangers, heedless of where she was going. Only knowing that she needed to get as far away as possible.
An hour later, finally spent of both mind and body she dropped to the ground. She lay in a heap, still unable to understand, unwilling to remember.
“Arianna,” a soothing, gentle voice whispered in her ear.
Startled, she woke up and stared into the face of a stranger with kind blue eyes. She hiss
ed and quickly sat up, her hands outreached and ready to claw the man’s face off. Curious, but she didn’t feel the killing power flowing through her anymore. “Stay back, diablo.”
He clenched his jaw. Half in silhouette he was an alluring figure. Tall and dark, and while she could barely make out his face there was an innate power to him that entranced her.
He held out his hand. “Soy un amigo. You can trust me...Synnergy.”
She sucked in a breathe. Her arms trembled with fatigue. She eyed him, waiting for the thrum of power to flow through her veins, but nothing came. She was still inside; the tempest that often flowed through her was as calm as a placid sea.
“How do you know my tribal name?” she whispered, waiting for the intuition that had saved her life in the past to speak to her.
“Right now a mob is forming. The men you killed have been discovered and in moments you will be too. I don’t think I need to tell you what they’re planning to do with you. If you want to live, I can protect you.”
She shuddered and dropped her arms to her sides. Nothing within her screamed that this man was anything other than a Good Samaritan. She narrowed her eyes, thinking of her mother and father. They would think her a coward if she gave up now.
As much as her heart ached, she knew it was too dangerous to remain in the jungle alone and unprotected. The militia knew the jungle as well, or better than her. She didn’t stand a chance against them.
She looked at the stranger. Moonlight sliced a thin vein through the tight canopy of night. Who was this man that he confidently offered her protection?
“Aya! She went that way!”
The man looked behind his shoulder.
Her heart lurched into her knees and she gasped. They were close.
“Come now!” He shoved his hand toward her.
Did she really have a choice?
Arianna took his hand as the first gleam of a flashlight illuminated the area. “Oh my gosh, it’s too late.”
“Hold on,” he pressed her face into his chest and then a brilliant blue light exploded around them. Her mind sank into the peace oblivion of nothingness.
