Phoenyx in Flames

by Daisy St. James

  Suddenly, the door to the council room swung open, just as they were getting into the thick of it. Phoenyx felt a chill run up her spine as Ian Rutherford, John’s only son, came strolling into the room like he owned the damn place. His father looked extremely displeased, and quite rightfully, embarrassed as Ian sauntered to the opposite end of the long table and sat casually in one of the leather chairs there. Phoenyx never pegged him for a sloucher, and yet, he proved her wrong.

  “Gentlemen,” Ian smirked, his cold, blue eyes empty pools. Devoid of emotion. Soulless.

  John marched to his son’s side and crouched down beside him. The council did a bad job pretending not to notice the heated exchange as John whispered in fevered, hushed tones to Ian, who kept a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

  Phoenyx bristled as his eyes traveled obnoxiously over her body. Instead of cringing and shrinking away, Phoenyx widened her stance and arched a brow in his direction. Prick.

  “Are you quite done, Father?” Ian said with a light laugh.

  The look on John’s face told her he would have words with his son later, away from the crowd. He stood slowly and walked away. With his back turned, he couldn’t see how Ian had dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

  Steepling his fingers beneath his chin, Ian smiled. “What’s the topic tonight fellows?”

  “This is the council’s concern,” Phoenyx snapped, having had enough of the drama. John strolled past her stoically, to stand beside Hutton. She turned flaming eyes on Ian and her lips curled. “Last I checked––you’re not on it.”

  Ian leaned forward and drummed his fingers annoyingly on the surface of the table, the smile never leaving his face. “Not yet.”

  There were some things in Phoenyx’s life she couldn’t quite explain: How they got those tiny boats in the bottles, how many licks it really did take to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop, the vampire sleeping in her bed––and why she couldn’t, in that very moment, read, or feel, Ian Rutherford.

  You see––Ian’s emotional imprint was a very distinct one. He ran simply on three things: jealousy, hatred and lust. As of that moment, he was just a blank page. He may as well have been a vampire himself. With quick, catlike reflexes, Phoenyx jumped onto the oak table, marched purposefully down its length until she was standing over Ian’s smug frame and pressed the heel of her boot into his neck, just beneath his chin. He chuckled with mild surprise.

  “Leave. Now,” She growled. “Before I pop your dim-witted head off your neck like a cork.”

  “Is that the only thing you’d like to pop, darling?” He said tightly.

  The sexual connotation in the question he’d asked didn’t go unnoticed, and she felt her blood boiling to new levels––volcanic in nature. Phoenyx pressed harder until his neck was neatly sandwiched between her heel and the headrest of the chair. “Get up, apologize to your father for embarrassing him with your mere existence, and get the fuck out.”

  Ian swallowed against the pressure of her heel and eyed her narrowly, obvious embarrassment and anger written all over his face. His ice blue eyes circled the room before landing on his father, who stood beside Hutton. Phoenyx kept her thigh tight and her leg straight, ready to make that fateful twist should she need to.

  “Are you fucking deaf?” She snapped, pushing harder until Ian slammed his chair back and stood up.

  “Look at the lot of you,” Ian sneered. “Do you really think this bitch can protect you from the dark things that go bump in the night? What will you do when she chooses? Who will protect you then?”

  The men on the council eyed Ian wearily as he backed away to the door. Phoenyx found herself staring him down from the platform of the boardroom table, slightly confused by his cryptic message. He looked like a man hell-bent on taking over. A wild need to be in control surrounded him like a black aura. Vengeance radiated from every poor of his body, and for the first time since Ian Rutherford had walked into the room, Phoenyx felt it rush through her molecules like a plague.

  She pinned him with her eyes, a burning hatred for him pouring out across the room. “I wouldn’t attempt anything stupid, Ian. You can’t ever come back from stupid.” Her emotions were beginning to boil dangerously close to the surface, and she could feel Hutton’s anxiety rising from across the room.

  “You don’t even know what you are,” Ian sneered, his icy blue eyes flashing as they ate her up from head to foot. “But Hutton does. That fine, knowledgeable councilman––he knows exactly who and what you are, isn’t that right, Grimshaw? Who’s the stupid one now, Phoenyx?”

  She blinked hard and he was gone. Quietly, she turned to face the sullen men who sat huddled, muttering around the council table she had stood before since she was a small child. This room felt more like home to her than her own apartment did. These men, though sometimes inelegant, were her family––Hutton being the closest thing to a father she had ever had.

  Her eyes met with his and he shamefully looked away.

  Ian was right, she didn’t know what she was––or who she was. Yes, she was an empath, there was no doubt in that, but Phoenyx also knew she was something more. The mystery of who she was had haunted her all her life and her mother had died before she could learn more.

  Her father called her a demon. Her mother called her an angel. These men––they called her, hero.

  Deep down inside, she felt like a freak. Taking a deep breath, Phoenyx stepped down from the boardroom table and placed her feet firmly on the ground. She closed her eyes tightly to gather herself, and then opened them slowly before turning around to face the men before her. There were more pressing things to worry about, and her origins weren’t one of them. That would come in time.

  She straightened her back and lifted her chin proudly. “This ancient vampire seems to want to get his hands on me. For whatever reason, I’m his goal. What I know is this––I will not go down without a fight. Whoever this Ancient is, we, The Order of the Flame, will defeat him. I will not go lightly.”

  Then, she turned to Hutton, who had a look of deep and immense pride on his face, and repeated herself for his ears. “I won’t go lightly.”

  “Where do we begin?” Edwin grumbled, chewing on something that wasn’t there.

  Hutton tore his eyes away from Phoenyx and reached for a stack of papers he had held off to the side as part of the initial presentation. “We know that Spider and his crew were hired to either kill, or apprehend her. Here––I have the blueprints to Spider’s Clubhouse compound,” he said, handing the papers to the council members. “Phoenyx, you will go tonight and infiltrate them. Hopefully, you’ll find Spider and make him talk. Make him tell you where this Ancient is hiding. Once we know his whereabouts, we make a definitive, concrete plan to confront and kill him.”

  “It won’t be easy,” Phoenyx whispered. “You know my history with him.”

  Hutton nodded. “I do, which is why I know beyond a shadow of a doubt you will not be merciful. You will get answers.”

  John wiped a hand across his forehead, incredulous at the thought. “You can’t send her in there alone, Hutton. Are you mad, man?”

  “Why not?” Phoenyx asked, masking her insecurity with bravado. Taking the blueprints from Hutton’s hands, she rolled them up and walked purposefully toward the door. “I’ve taken down hordes of vampires on my own before. What’s one little biker?”

  ***

  “Fucking cunt!” Ian screeched, hammering his fist repeatedly into the wall behind the bathroom stall. His knuckles had gone numb long ago, but the rage he felt at the center of his being hadn’t dimmed. He’d shatter every bone in his hand before that happened.

  He turned sharply and leaned against the cold cement wall of the public bathroom, banging his head once, and then twice, to shake his vision free of the immense anger he felt toward the rancid little bitch.

  For years, he’d trained by her side, given the opportunity to grow up as sister and brother, within the confines of The Order’s walls, yet she shunne
d him. Even as a child she had an air of superiority over him that he could never get past, but not anymore. He wasn’t going to keep the Hutton Grimshaw’s dirty little secrets anymore. He’d heard him talking to his father over the years, and slowly, as time went on, Ian had pieced together the puzzle.

  It was going to happen any day now. She was the caterpillar about erupt from the cocoon as another creature, nothing like it’s former shape and size, and she had no idea it was about to happen. But he did. He knew all the secrets her body held. He knew exactly what the transformation entailed. Ian also knew that if she turned into something other than the butterfly those stuffy old bastards were expecting, they wouldn’t have any inkling of what to do, or where to run.

  Phoenyx came from a bloodline that far surpassed any of theirs, even those linking them to the royals. No, her blood was––ancient.

  He jumped only a little when his cell phone went off in his pocket. Reaching inside, he brought it to his ear with shaky fingers. “Hello?”

  “Did you do it?” The smooth voice on the other end asked.

  Ian stared at the ceiling, ice blue eyes glittering maliciously as he smiled from ear to ear. “Of course, darling.”

  “Excellent. Now we wait. Are you prepared for what comes next?”

  The smile on his face faltered only slightly. “Oh, I’ve been preparing for this my entire life.”

  “Good. I’ll make sure everything is in place. Now you just go on home and wait. I’ll be in touch.”

  The cell phone slowly slid down the side of his face, as his mind drifted off to what was to come. All the training, all the lessons in paranormal activity, all of The Order’s secrets––tonight, they culminated.

  Turning slowly, Ian took a long, deep breath and resumed hammering the bathroom wall with his already bloody knuckles. He punched and punched until he felt something crunch. Grimacing, he stood back and admired the bloody mess he’d left, imagining Phoenyx’s face in place of the wall.

  Smiling, he turned on his heel and quickly strode from the building.

  EIGHT

  After calling Cortez to make sure everyone was still in one piece, Phoenyx geared up and drove down to the clubhouse, on the other end of town. The compound was bustling with enough noise that Phoenyx could hear it when she pulled up in front, on the opposite side of the street. Tonight’s impromptu council meeting still lingered with Phoenyx as she sat back in her seat, surveying the task at hand. Ian’s words had cut into her brain and left a scar on the surface she was having a tough time healing. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the musings of an obvious madman. There were more important things at hand.

  She shifted anxiously in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel like a vice. Eyeing the clubhouse, she tried to recall the blueprints Hutton had given her, but couldn’t quite bring them to mind. There were plenty of entrances she could take to sneak in, but Phoenyx wasn’t one who did things on the sly.

  Upon careful inspection, Phoenyx could see that there were only four vampires out front, and it wouldn’t be too hard to muscle through them if she had to. Throwing open the door of her black Hellcat, Phoenyx slid out of the driver’s seat and purposefully made her way to the clubhouse front door.

  She had to admit, strolling onto vampire territory, with nothing but a silver stake in her boot and her crossbow, may not have been her most ingenious idea. Especially territory that was run by the one Supernatural in town who wanted her dead the most. Still, if she had snuck in, it would have proven to them that she had something to fear. And Phoenyx was anything but fearful.

  The four vamps she’s surveyed earlier were loitering around as she approached. When the first one spotted her, he slapped the arm of the vamp next to him to get his attention, which prompted all of them to turn and face her. Hips swinging, and trigger finger on her crossbow, Phoenyx strolled on past the first three like she owned the place. As she closed the distance between her and the front door, a pair of curious hazel eyes connected with hers, their blatant appraisal leaving Phoenyx uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He held his hand up as the other three vampires made a move toward her, stopping them in their tracks.

  Phoenyx cocked her hip and arched a brow at the vampire who was pulling rank with the others. He was obviously the one she needed to talk to, but there was something about him she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something, very––different.

  His hair fell over his forehead in what she would normally have called ‘the douchebag haircut’, only on him it made him look a little like James Dean. He leaned back against the wall and reached for a pack of cigarettes in his vest pocket. Slowly pulling one out with his teeth, he leaned forward to light it with a zippo. The flame caught the color of his eyes, lighting them up to burnished gold with green and brown flecks. He inhaled and half-smiled, his full lips lifting at the corner to expose surprisingly straight, white teeth.

  Phoenyx lifted her chin. “I’m looking for Spider.”

  A five o’clock shadow hugged his firm jaw as a muscle ticked there. Unlike his cavemen companions, who looked like they were growing lice farms in their beards, he simply looked like he’d forgotten to shave. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had shaved the day he’d been turned. Exhaling, he bent his knee and lifted a foot against the brick behind him, his shoulders coming forward slightly in a careless shrug.

  “He’s busy.”

  Scottish? French? Phoenyx narrowed her eyes at him, trying to place his accent, which was neither this nor that. She lowered her eyes momentarily before lifting her lashes to pin him where he stood.

  She smiled coldly. “Tell him––it’s The Phoenyx.”

  Vampire James Dean chuckled softly, pulling on his cigarette slowly, before licking his full lips. His eyes slowly traveled her body before meeting hers. He pointed at her with the fingers that encircled his cigarette. “I know who you are. He’s still busy.”

  The other vampires snickered, causing Phoenyx’s ire to spike. She pursed her lips. “You’re going to want to tell him to not be busy.”

  “What do you want?” he asked around a mouthful of smoke.

  Bristling at this smoking hot jackass’s entirely too cavalier reaction to her strolling right up to his clubhouse front door, Phoenyx ground her teeth. “I want to know who hired him.”

  “Fat chance,” he said in that strange accent, definitely more Scottish than French, before flicking the butt of his cigarette away. He nodded toward his men and they reluctantly retreated a distance until Phoenyx could no longer see them. They were alone now.

  “Look,” Phoenyx said laughing, “you’re obviously new, so––”

  She could feel his eyes trained on her like she was his prey, and he was hunting her. It wasn’t a foreign sensation to her. After all, that’s what vampires were––they were hunters, ruled by their baser instincts. It wasn’t new. What was new was the thrill that shot up her spine as he licked those incredible lips, devouring her with his eyes, like she was his last meal. She wasn’t easily thrilled, but the night was full of surprises it would seem.

  “No,” the vampire said somewhat sternly, even though his brows were knitted together in amusement. “I’m not new, darling. You’re just behind on the times.”

  “Is that so?” She asked, barely able to keep the astonishment out of her voice, or the shiver that rippled her skin so delightfully.

  “Yeah,” he smirked, his eyes drawn to the goosebumps on her arms. “That’s so.”

  Aggravation mixed with the strange allure she felt as the vampire came into the light of an overhead street lamp. Phoenyx had to fight the urge to hang her mouth open. There hadn’t even been a time in all her twenty-five years that she had been rendered speechless by someone’s looks. In her line of work there was no time to admire the opposite sex, nor had she ever had the urge to. However, this vampire was truly something to behold.

  Heat pooled in her belly and her heart began to pump blood faster through her body. He stood far taller than most men,
something she hadn’t noticed at first, when he’d been leaning casually against the building. Phoenyx found herself looking down at his feet to check for lifts.

  “I’m Ash,” he said.

  His voice brought her out of her thoughts and Phoenyx immediately bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance. Her eyes flashed defiance at the cocky bastard standing in front of her. Judging by the deep dimple popping in his cheek, he was very aware of her racing pulse. Straightening her shoulders, Phoenyx lifted her crossbow and aimed it at him furiously.

  “Tell Spider to get his dead ass out here, or I’ll kill every one of his men. Starting with you.”

  Ash let out a loud burst of laughter. “Darling, I’d like to see you try.”

  Phoenyx felt incredibly drawn to this arrogant piece of work. She felt uncommonly attracted, dare she say, aroused by him, in every sense of the word. At least she was pretty sure it was arousal. There was something mysterious about him. From the moment she stepped foot on the complex, she’d felt the vampire power immediately, but there had been something more, something she wasn’t familiar with. At first she’d thought that maybe with some luck, the vampire power she was feeling was the Ancient she was looking for. But now that she was in close proximity, the more it seemed to be coming from Ash.

  Her eyes followed him cautiously as he began to circle her. Those strange hazel eyes, more gold than green, burned a hole right through her.

  “Should I be afraid of you, little girl?” He murmured, making her skin prick at his closeness.

  “Excuse me?” Phoenyx asked indignantly, looking around. “I don’t see any little girls present.”

  “My apologies,” Ash’s voice was low and warm, like honey straight from the hive. “Should I be afraid of you, little lady?”

  Her eyes met his and something sparked, sending a lightning bolt straight into the pit of her stomach. “I don’t see any lady’s either.”