The Mephisto Mark: The Redemption of Phoenix

by Trinity Faegen

  Mathilda came to the side of the bed, bent and smoothed the hair from my brow. “Ye’re a gentle soul and my heart hurts for you, same as it did for my sweet Pru.”

  “You don’t think I mean—”

  “Shhh, I know, love. I know. Close yer eyes now and sleep and I’ll be right here when you wake up. Nobody will pester ye.”

  For the first time since I’d rescued her from the street when I was thirteen, I fell asleep without Olga.

  ~~ Phoenix ~~

  I knew Jax would call a war room meeting. I considered leaving before he did, so I’d have an excuse for not attending, but I was never one to hide from my screw-ups. In my bathroom, changing out of bloody clothes, I heard Jax’s voice on the intercom and faced what was sure to happen. He would call a council. We’d convene on Kyanos; my brothers and Sasha would debate whether I was deserving of punishment – and there was no doubt I deserved it – then mete it out. I’d probably pull a month of solitary on Kyanos. Maybe that’d be for the best. By the time I returned to Colorado, Mariah would be gone.

  I didn’t think it was possible to loathe myself more than I had when Mariah first appeared, but not so. I’d lost my grip and the darkest side of me took over. I thought that battle won years ago, thought I had perfect control over the Mephisto in me. Far from having won, I was worse than before Jane. I imagined Mariah lying naked with another guy, and over one hundred years of hard won self-control flew right out the window. I became a caricature of myself; a ravening beast. I shouted at her and called her a whore.

  Nothing had ever made me more glad than when Zee knocked me down and made me stop. Since Jane, I’d tried to be more of what she wanted me to be – a gentleman. I tried to be considerate of women. It was part of the reason I never accompanied my brothers when they went looking for sex. Jane had shown me what lies within a woman’s soul and no matter how much I craved the feel of a woman’s body, I could never step over that line again. Not when I knew it was nothing but sex. And it could only ever be about sex. Because of their fear, no human woman could stay with one of us. Only an Anabo. I had self-righteous disdain for my brothers’ never-ending hunt for meaningless one-night stands, but I was infinitely worse. I’d verbally attacked an Anabo.

  I’d be lucky if I pulled less than six months on Kyanos.

  Taking a deep breath, I popped down to the basement, to the war room in the center of a maze of offices and computer banks where the Luminas worked, ready to face the music. Everyone but Key was there, Jax standing next to Sasha at one end of the large oval table that dominated the flagstone floor, Ty in his chair with the thirty-third version of Gretchen, his favorite mastiff, right beside him, Zee leaning against the wall with the world map and white board, and Denys in front of the huge flat screen on the opposite wall.

  “Where is Kyros?” I asked. It was highly unusual to have a war room meeting without our leader. I hated his guts at the moment, but that was beside the point.

  They all looked solemnly at me while Jax said, “He’s in Bucharest, doing some investigative work to learn more about Mariah. Later, he’s going to Washington to tell Jordan she has a sister.” He looked conflicted. “She’ll be in the gym at ten for a training session. I don’t like knowing this when she doesn’t, but Key said to go along, business as usual and let him tell her. There’s something . . .” Jax stopped and sighed. “He looked like he might cry. Whatever he already learned about Mariah, it’s bad.”

  I hadn’t imagined that Key was close to tears. Jesus. What was so bad that it would make Kyros cry? Maybe Mariah did take guys home with her. For money. Was she so destitute, she’d turned to whoring herself?

  That overwhelming feeling of helpless rage washed over me and I focused on the world map hoping to make it subside. My eyes were drawn to Romania. Where Mariah was from; where Eryx lived. It was a strange coincidence, and not a happy one.

  He was extremely active at the moment. He’d convinced a lot of big dogs in Washington to trade their souls to him, and unless my takedown plan was a success, control of the United States was within his reach. Except he was tripping himself up like he always did, a victim of his own dark soul. He still had some human tendencies, just as we did, but he was missing a key ingredient all humanity needed to achieve success in anything – hope. What made people, including us, keep going, even in the face of defeat, was a deep-seated need to maintain self-respect. We were all sons of Hell, but all of us except Eryx kept the part of our mother that was hope and dignity.

  Eryx lost that when he died and crossed into immortality, extinguishing all light in his soul. It was why I didn’t believe he would ever succeed in his grand plan to take out Lucifer and rule Hell.

  It was why, after his scheme to convert the president through coercion by kidnapping Jordan backfired on him, he hadn’t stayed the course and gone after other powerful people in Washington. Instead, once he realized she was Anabo and had become immortal, he became less interested in controlling the U.S. and more obsessed with Jordan. Unlike Jane, who he’d murdered so she could never become immortal or Mephisto, who he’d never once considered keeping, he wanted Jordan to live with him, do what he did, and bear his sons.

  But, then, Jordan was the complete opposite of Jane. Self-assured, assertive, and outspoken, she was the product of her background. Growing up as the only child of the man who became president of the U.S. gave her an edge on leadership abilities. And the wherewithal to stand up to Kyros.

  Jane had grown up extremely sheltered, in a different era, where women were much less forthright. But all that aside, if they switched places, Jane would always be quiet and reserved and Jordan couldn’t not be a natural leader. It was the strength in her that attracted Eryx. He knew she was now immortal and becoming Mephisto, but he was fanatical and wouldn’t give up trying to figure out a way to get her away from Kyros.

  He wouldn’t want Mariah to stay with him. She wasn’t like Jordan. She wasn’t like Jane, either, but she wouldn’t appeal to him as Jordan did. He would see her as leverage to get at Jordan, then . . .

  My mind went straight down the rabbit hole, despite all my attempts to stop it. Thoughts of Eryx and Jane and Jordan and Mariah led to one final, horrible conclusion: he’d kill her. He’d wait until I arrived to rescue her, then slit her throat. It would be exactly as it had been with Jane.

  Mariah’s only hope was if I stayed away from her. If she wasn’t marked, Eryx couldn’t sense her existence, couldn’t find her, would never know she was Anabo. She’d live the rest of her life until she was very old and die like all humans and go to Heaven because she was Anabo. And I’d lose all hope of ever waking up with someone beside me in my bed, of having someone to talk to, a woman whose body and soul could bring me any measure of peace, because this was the way it had to be. This was what I deserved. This was my penance for Jane.

  Sweet, gentle Jane. Her death was a vulgar horror. And it was my fault. Like a movie on repeat, I relived her death in my head yet again, remembered the look of desperation in her perfect blue eyes as she begged me to bring her back – and her heartbreak when she understood I couldn’t.

  Eryx had laughed.

  He watched me try, watched Jane bleed out in my arms while I forced every ounce of energy in my body into hers, and when it was clear she was gone forever, he laughed.

  Sometimes I woke to the sound of his laughter, ringing through the years.

  I hated him with every immortal cell in my body.

  I kept my eyes on Romania and barely heard Jax when he said, “Key will tell us more as soon as he can. I called this meeting in the meantime because we need to all be on the same page about Mariah.” From my peripheral vision, I saw him sweep his gaze around the room. “You all got that she’s Anabo, right?”

  Everyone nodded. Zee said, “She has no glow.”

  “Yes, she does,” Sasha said. “It’s just very dim.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Ty asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jax said, “but she’s defi
nitely Anabo, and Jordan’s sister. We owe her every courtesy and all due respect.” He looked at me then. “Phoenix, we get it, but we can’t stand aside and allow you to abuse her. For one thing, it’s cruel, but there’s also the future to consider. If she’s miserable, there’s no way she’ll ever agree to stay, as a Lumina or as Mephisto. She’ll leave because of your behavior, and that’s not fair to her, or to us. If you can’t control yourself around her, I think it’s best if you leave and stay away until she’s had time to learn and understand who we are and what we do, and decide, on its own merit, if she wants to join us.”

  I looked away from Romania and met the gaze of my closest brother. Jax and I had always understood one another, so I was well aware of the subtext in his speech: Get the fuck over it. Whatever understanding he’d had of how it was for me had dissolved the instant he met Mariah and knew she was Anabo. I wanted to leap across the distance between us and pound him until he begged for mercy. “Is this a rhetorical question, brother?”

  Ajax drew himself up. “I’m dead-ass serious. You went off the rails tonight. Either you’ve got the ability to not do that again, or you don’t. Decide. Now.”

  I took a quick assessment of their expectant faces before I refocused on Jax. “Fuck you.”

  “Not rising to the bait. Answer the goddamn question.”

  I looked at Zee, who shook his head. “Already beat the shit out of you. Not gonna happen again.”

  Ty shrugged. “I’d enjoy getting into it with you, Phoenix, but it won’t help. You need to figure out how to deal, or leave.”

  Sasha simply cocked one delicate brow.

  Denys glared at me and said in a low voice, “It’s not fair, and I’m man enough to say what everyone’s thinking. Because you’re all fucked up, you think you don’t deserve her, but at the same time, because she’s not pure and perfect like Jane, you’d rather throw her away like yesterday’s leftovers than even try. I’d take her in a heartbeat if I could. I wouldn’t give a damn if she had sex for money, or if she’d fucked every guy in Romania for free. She’d be mine. What, you think you’re some kind of special case because of Jane? No, Phoenix, all you are is a sanctimonious, self-righteous asswipe on a perpetual guilt trip. Fuck you.”

  Never in our lives had I heard Denys say something like that. I was so stunned, I had no reply.

  I was still taking it in when he added, “Next time . . . there’d better not be a next time. We’ll send your ass to Kyanos for the next century. We spent the last century tiptoeing around any mention of Jane, always trying to protect you. I’ll be damned if we’ll spend the rest of eternity handling you with kid gloves because you can’t handle that you have another Anabo!” He slammed his fist on the table and it cracked, right down the middle. A thousand years old, made from a Kyanos hickory, and my baby brother, the joker, the perennial party guy, the one who was rarely serious about anything at all, broke it in a passionate rage.

  With fury in his black eyes, he looked up from the crack and spat at me before he disappeared from the war room.

  “Damn,” Zee murmured, “shit just got real.”

  I took a heavy breath and said to all of them, “It’s best if I leave, at least for now. I’ll figure things out, and she can be here and get to know Jordan again without any more drama.” I said to Sasha, “I’m sorry,” because she knew what this meant. She understood like they didn’t. Mariah was my responsibility, and I was abandoning her. Until Jordan came to be with us permanently, it would be up to Sasha to walk Mariah through the minefield that was our lives.

  At her nod, I left.

  Chapter 4

  ~~ Mariah ~~

  Olga meowed.

  I jerked awake, then lay utterly still, eyes squeezed shut while my mind took me away from what was about to happen. I waited on the braided rug by the fire and listened to the wind at the windows and said little girl prayers and, in the part of my mind that could never entirely leave, I prayed he’d be too drunk.

  I came awake more fully and remembered he was dead and wanted to weep with relief. But Olga had meowed. Someone was here.

  Opening one eye a tiny bit, I remembered where I was. I lifted my head and saw Mathilda sitting by the fire, reading a book. A bottle of Tylenol sat on the desk, alongside a glass of water. And leaning against the wall next to the door was Phoenix – the reason for Olga’s meow. He was dressed as Kyros had been, in black leather pants with heavy black boots and a long, black leather trench coat. I wondered what it was that they did. I would ask Viorica.

  Thinking of seeing her, my anticipation returned and I wished I had something nicer to wear. For all that I was insulted by what Phoenix said, he was spot on with his critique. My clothes were fine for pub work, but inappropriate for anywhere else. If I could go to my apartment, I would change into a sweater and my jeans.

  He pushed off the wall to stand straight. “I’m here to apologize, Mariah.”

  I wondered if Sasha and his brothers made him do this, although he did actually sound sincere, so maybe not. I closed my eyes and stroked Olga’s soft fur. “Apology accepted.”

  He didn’t leave. I could still feel him watching me.

  After a while, he said, “How long will you stay?”

  “A week.”

  “I’ll be gone, so I won’t see you again.”

  “Okay.”

  He still didn’t leave. I opened my eyes and looked across the room at him. He stared at me with a contradictory expression of anger and need. “Was there something else?”

  “No, I . . . no.”

  “Well, goodbye then.”

  “I really am sorry, Mariah. Whatever my problems are, it’s grossly unfair to make you suffer for them.”

  I wondered what his problems were, then decided I didn’t care. I would never see him again. “Everyone has problems, and sometimes they bleed over onto others. It’s okay, Phoenix. Let’s just forget it.”

  Still, he didn’t leave. I rolled to my back and sat up, disturbing Olga, who jumped to the floor and went straight to Phoenix. She purred loudly, butting her head against his boot. When he reached down to pick her up, I knew he wasn’t going to leave right away. I was cursing this fact when he looked at me again, only this time, there was no anger, no hatred. Instead, all I saw was yearning. Not sexual, exactly, although there was that, but more a plea, a want of some kind. Mesmerized, puzzled, and improbably sad, I couldn’t look away.

  Mathilda continued reading, and maybe she was listening, maybe she wasn’t, but I had a feeling she knew every tiny detail of what went on in this house, so there was no point worrying about her presence. I asked Phoenix, “What is it about me? Do I remind you of someone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was she friend or enemy?”

  “Friend.” He continued petting Olga, who continued to purr.

  The room was darker than before, only two of the six candles in the candelabra lit, lending an air of intimacy that was helped by the light of the fire. Something far beyond my comprehension tugged at me, demanding my attention, but I was lost and didn’t know what to do. Our eyes met again and I had the sudden certainty that I’d remember this moment all the rest of my life. “Did you love her?”

  I saw it in his eyes, no, but he said out loud, “It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone, long ago.”

  “Did she leave you?”

  “She died.”

  “Do I look like her?”

  “No. But you’re like her in another way.” He walked toward the bed and stopped just at the edge to set Olga down. Tail straight with indignation, she went to curl up at the end. He loomed over me and I bent my neck to look up at him.

  “Let me touch your hair,” he whispered. “Just this once.”

  It was a strange request, something I’d never allow any guy to do for any reason, but the way he asked, the look in his eyes . . . I couldn’t refuse. Reaching behind my head, I pulled the ponytail loose and my hair fell across my back and shoulders. He lifted one hand and gently stroke
d down before slipping his fingers into the middle to cradle my head. I could feel his warm palm against my nape as he bent lower and whispered, “Don’t stay, Mariah. They’ll try to talk you into it, but don’t. Go home, marry a nice boy, have some babies and live to be very old.”

  His face was scarce inches from mine. He was closer than I ever let anyone come, and I began to feel anxious. I caught the tangy sweet scent of oranges, which seemed very odd. “I intend to go home.”

  “Good.” I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t, and I was glad and sad all at the same time. I’d never been kissed. I’d never wanted it. Never expected to want it. How strange that my first stirring of curiosity was for a guy who’d insulted me. He did seem genuinely sorry, and now his gaze moved across my face as if he was memorizing it, as if it mattered.

  His expression was sad when he released me and stood straight. “Goodbye, Mariah. I wish . . .”

  “What do you wish?”

  He huffed out a breath and said, “A happy life for you.”

  Then he was gone and I stared at the imprint of his boots on the rug where he’d been. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something momentous just occurred, but it hadn’t. He petted my hair, told me to go home and have a happy life, and he left. Other than him disappearing into thin air, nothing at all out of the ordinary about it.

  So why did I feel as if someone just walked over my grave?

  ***

  I’d gotten out of the shower, which Mathilda insisted I take, and slipped back into the white robe when Sasha knocked and came in. I was struck all over again by her beauty. Small wonder Jax was in love with her.

  She saw me in the doorway to the bathroom and said with a wide smile, “Key just called. He’ll be here with Jordan in about twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll get dressed.”

  “Yer clothes are clean and waiting for you in the closet,” Mathilda said.

  “Thank you.” It was a very big closet. I went inside, closed the door and quickly dressed, wishing all over again that I had something else to wear. Back in the bathroom, I blow dried my hair, pulled it into a ponytail, then returned to the bedroom.