Dropping her face into her hands, Phoenix shuddered. Warmth closed in around her, strong arms, firm lips against her cheek.
“It’s over,” she whispered, barely able to speak the words.
“This part is,” he said into her hair. “The rest...”
She turned in his arms and pressed her face into his shoulder. “I know. So much left to do. So much anger, and hatred and prejudice.”
“And yet here we are,” he said. “Alive. Opir and half-dhampir.”
A helpless laugh burbled out of her throat. “I’ve never been so confused in my life.”
“Neither have I.” He kissed her gently on both eyelids. “But we’ll work it out.”
She met his gaze. “If we hadn’t made it...”
“We would still have been together. But we both have responsibilities we can’t ignore.”
Phoenix tried very hard not to hear what she couldn’t accept. “What if they have more of the pathogen hidden away somewhere?” she asked. “The antidote is gone.”
“I believe it was your blood, not the supposed antidote, that saved me.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “You think that something in my blood—”
“What if a cure could be in part derived from some property in your DNA? What if something in you holds the key to combating any future strain of this pathogen?”
She laughed wryly. “At least I’d have a real way to help, considering how badly I’ve handled everything else.”
“Is that really what you still believe?” Drakon asked, nuzzling her cheek.
Phoenix was quiet for a moment, thinking back over the past two weeks. She’d made a mess of so many things, and yet she’d at least in part convinced Drakon not to hurt Matthew, stopped an attempted assassination, helped bring down a would-be mass murderer and destroy a deadly, genocidal weapon....
“You were willing to die for the sake of an enemy,” Drakon said. “You gave me a new life. You helped me find something greater than my grief and need for revenge. And you’ve touched and saved the lives of people you’ll never know.” He gazed into her eyes. “I’m no hero, Phoenix. Maybe you aren’t, either. But it’s not always heroes who make the difference.”
Phoenix remembered what Shepherd had said to her when she’d asked why Aegis sent her out into the Fringe. “You were an unknown quantity, and that was exactly what we seemed to need. Not human, not full dhampir. And I knew you were motivated. You wanted to prove yourself. We decided to take a chance.”
He’d definitely been right about her need to prove herself. But she was done with that. Done with trying to show that she was as good, as capable, as confident as every other operative in the Enclave.
She was herself. She did the best she could. And sometimes that was good enough.
“No,” she said slowly. “It’s not always heroes.” She kissed Drakon, and they were lost to the world for several minutes. Phoenix came back to herself when she smelled the subtle change in the air, felt the temperature begin to warm ever so slightly. She looked up at the sky.
“It’s nearly dawn,” she said. “We have to get you to shelter.”
“I have my shelter,” he murmured, refusing to let her go.
“This isn’t a joke, Drakon. You have to get out of the sun, and then we have to find the others and help figure out—”
“Do you want a life with me, Phoenix?” he asked, searching her eyes.
“More than anything in the world. Haven’t I made that clear?” She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over. “But you can’t go back to the Enclave. You’ll return to Erebus, and I—”
“Together,” he said stroking her lips with his fingertip. “Wherever we go, we’ll go together. There are the new colonies...”
“Where we can spend our lives in hiding?” She shook her head. “Maybe for a while. But once the first political upheaval in the Enclave has settled, I need to return to San Francisco. I’ll have to stay away for a while, until Matthew can testify as to what happened. But I can’t leave him and those who think like him alone to handle the changes that are coming.”
“I know,” Drakon said, smiling at her with fondness and affection and pride. “That’s why I’ll go back with you, to prove that even an Opir can change and become an ally.”
“No!” she gasped, turning to grab his arms. “They’ll kill you!”
“Are you willing to let me take that risk?”
How could she refuse, when she’d asked him to let her do the same? If there was any hope for them, any chance of happiness, it had to be won openly. No disguises, no hidden identities. Only two people in—
Drakon had never said the words. He’d proven that Opiri could truly experience human feelings: compassion, shame, guilt, self-sacrifice. But that...
It was enough that he wanted to stay with her. It had to be.
“We’d better go find the others,” she said, beginning to rise.
Drakon pulled her back down. “There’s one more complication we have to work out,” he said.
“We can talk about that later,” she said, refusing to look at him.
“What about love, Phoenix?” he asked softly. “Can you, mostly human as you are, live without it?”
“I will never ask anything of you that you can’t freely give,” she said, trying to break away. “You know I love you. That’s enough.”
“No, it isn’t,” he said softly. “Not for me. Or for you. You deserve to be loved. And you are.” He took her hand between his and kissed her knuckles. “And I love you, Phoenix.”
There was only time for one final kiss. But it was a very, very good one. And Phoenix knew something new and better would arise from the ashes, as both of them had dreamed.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from RUNNING WITH WOLVES by Cynthia Cooke.
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Chapter 1
Shay Mallory felt the sensation of being watched as she walked down her long driveway, her tennis shoes crunching on the sparse gravel. Late morning fog hovered in the branches of the tall redwoods forming a canopy above her. She breathed deep the briny scent of ocean air and willed herself to relax. Not an easy task.
A twig snapped behind her. Tensing, she peered over her shoulder at the deep shadows lengthened by the soaring trees, but saw no one. She was being jumpy. There was no one there. Nothing to be afraid of, and yet she was. Fear clung to her back, digging its long sharp claws into her shoulders, a constant reminder of its needling presence.
She’d spent her whole life jumping at imaginary threats, constantly moving until one town blurred into the next. But her paranoid father had been dead a long time now. For years, there had been just her and Grams in these woods, and no reason to be afraid. No reason to jump.
A whimpering sounded behind her. Smiling, she stopped and turned.
“Hey, Buddy.” She squatted next to the large husky that had been shadowing her and rubbed the thick brown fur on his cheeks. He looked more like a wolf than a dog and had been her only companion since Grams died last year. If it weren’t for him, she’d be completely alone. She brushed off the thought and the sense of deep sadness that came wit
h it. Until she figured out what was going on with her, spending less time around people would be better anyway.
Buddy sat and she patted his head. “You can’t come with me, Buddy. You know that. You scare people.”
The dog whined and, lying down, dropped its head onto its outstretched paws, looking absolutely adorable. “I know. They’re idiots. Stay here. I’ll be right back. Promise.” She stood and, with a lighter step and a pat to her pocket to make sure she had her iPod, she hurried down the road.
She knew she should move closer to the city and try to find a job in a design firm. Home-based graphic design businesses could be tough to get off the ground since it seemed as if everyone and their brother could design a website these days. But there weren’t too many places she would be able to live with Buddy. He needed room to run, to stretch his legs, to be free where some gun-happy yahoo wouldn’t mistake him for a wolf and shoot him. She’d find a way to make the money to fix up the old house and stay right where she was.
In her home.
As Shay considered her options, she crossed Highway 1, and headed toward picturesque Main Street. Thank goodness, with the onset of school and the cooler weather, most of the summer tourists were gone and she encountered no one on her way. She passed through an alley between two buildings and walked into the hardware store.
“Good morning, Shay,” Mr. Henderson said from behind the counter. “You know, it’s not sunny out.”
Shay smiled and took off the dark shades she never went without these days. She couldn’t take the chance. Without them she’d be distracted and sometimes scared by the colors, but Mr. Henderson was okay. She already knew what his colors were, yellow and blue and happy.
She took a deep breath and looked around her. Luckily no one else was in the store. “I need another tube of Spackle.”
“More? What are you doing up there?” Astonishment raised his voice, and his grayish-green eyes bulged a little under salt-and-pepper brows.
“Grams’s place must be on a fault line. Cracks keep forming in the walls, especially on the east side of the house.”
He crinkled his already heavily lined forehead, creating fissures as deep as the ones in her walls. “You might want to get someone out there to look at the foundation.”
“I will,” she said to appease him. And she would as soon as she got the money, which wouldn’t be anytime soon. “Thanks, Mr. Henderson.” She took the Spackle and headed toward the door.
“Let me know if you need any help out there, okay?” Concern softened his voice.
She smiled, and wished not for the first time that Grams could have seen how much he’d cared for her, that they could have spent her last few years together. No one should live their life alone like Grams had.
Shay waved, slid the glasses back on and placed her iPod’s earbuds in her ears as she left the shop and hurried down the street to Annie’s Fresh Farm Grocery Store. Like so many stores in the village, the white clapboard two-story was adorned with flowers and antiques that made the building look charming instead of old and run-down. Annie’s was a little overpriced, but it was better than driving to the large chain store down the highway. Besides, how much did one girl and her dog need?
Shay picked up a dozen fresh organic brown eggs and placed them in her basket, then perused the spinach and tomatoes before adding them to the eggs. As she picked up an avocado and gave it a gentle squeeze, the small hairs on her nape prickled—the telltale sensation that someone was watching her again.
Without making it obvious, she glanced around her, holding her breath and hoping she was wrong. For the past couple of weeks, she’d barely been able to leave the house without running into some kind of problem. Not just the uncomfortable sensation of someone’s attention, which usually meant trouble, but suddenly people glowed. Everyone was surrounded by colors, some bright, some dull, some black. Black was the color she was afraid of the most. But the worst part was the noise. People’s brains hummed and if a person was excited enough, their thoughts would burst right through the hum.
Shay really didn’t want to know what people were thinking.
Mostly she heard a low buzz, all the time, everywhere she went. When it first started, she’d thought she’d go mad, but she’d learned to block it out. To never leave the house without her sunglasses and an iPod. It had been three weeks since the weird buzz and lights had started. Three weeks, and still they hadn’t gone away. No one was paying much attention to her. No reason to warrant the nape prickling.
She took a few more steps when the soothing caress of warm energy brushed up against her arm. Gasping, she jumped back, almost dropping her basket. One of her earbuds popped out of her ear. She choked on the breath still caught in her throat and saw the man standing next to her. He was tall and slim with strong arms and snug-fitting jeans. Real snug. Real nice. Thick brown hair curled around his ears and astonishing pale blue eyes stared at her in concern.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” She slapped an open palm to her chest to get the air flowing again and nodded, trying to look normal—when nothing about this situation, about this man, was normal. The most beautiful colors she’d ever seen surrounded him. Colors so bright she could even see them through the dark glasses. She couldn’t recall ever seeing those particular shades of blue and purple before. Air burst out of her lungs and a feeling of calm settled over her. Better yet, the buzzing noise was gone. Her mind was completely at peace.
She turned off her iPod. Yep, not a sound was coming from him. How was that possible?
“I think that one is ripe. Probably even bruised by now,” he said with a cocky grin.
She stared at him, stupefied, then embarrassment kicked in and she dropped the avocado into her basket.
“I—I don’t think I’ve seen you around town before,” she stammered, searching for something to say. He was awash in extraordinary colors. She could see right through the dark lenses of her glasses and it left her breathless and amazed.
“That would be because I just got here. I’ve been hired to oversee the remodeling of a new shop opening in the village—Tamara’s Candles and Incense.”
“Oh, nice,” she murmured as her tongue thickened in her mouth. Obviously, it had been too long since she’d talked to people. Especially men. Drop-dead gorgeous men.
“You realize there’s no sun outside,” he said, staring at her glasses.
Geez, was it really that dark out? Preparing herself, she slipped off the glasses and dropped them into her basket. The man’s aura was more startling than she’d first thought, and he had the most incredible bluish-gray eyes she’d ever seen.
“You have beautiful eyes. You shouldn’t hide them,” he said, staring into them with such intensity that a warm flush filled her face.
No one had ever said anything like that about her eyes before and she didn’t quite know how to respond. So she didn’t. She kept her mouth shut and her foot out of it.
“You don’t happen to know where I can find a short-term apartment?” he asked, his voice rippling through her in an unusually intoxicating way.
She was staring, overwhelmed by the colors shimmering around his head and the fact that she couldn’t hear his mind working. Not even the slightest buzz. Though for some reason he was affecting her body temperature. She let out a deep breath.
Amusement danced in his eyes.
“I’m…uh…sorry? Did you say something?” she asked, certain flaming-red must be filling her cheeks.
“An apartment?” he repeated.
“There is a real-estate office right down the street.” She pointed in the direction he should go.
He had such a wonderful earthy smell, something she could almost place. What was it? Cedar? Cinnamon? Apple? All of the above mixed together in a cornucopia of goodness.
“Thanks, was hoping not to have to deal with leases and fin
der’s fees and all that, since I won’t be here for very long.”
“Right.” What was he talking about? An apartment? Maybe she should…? No. She couldn’t. She wasn’t used to being around men who made her feel so jittery and tongue-tied. Or like a complete idiot. No, she was better off keeping to herself. And she knew it. Just like she knew she was a complete and utter chicken.
Keep your head down, Shay. You never know when they’ll find you. Her father’s warnings rushed through her mind. Not that she ever knew who they were, why they were looking or even what they wanted.
But for this man, she could easily forget her daddy’s warning. Mercy! With his dark hair streaked with a rebellious red, high cheekbones and wide, promising lips… She sighed. Not to mention strong shoulders that stretched from here to eternity. He was built and looked as if he could easily carry her and the world, and fight off whoever they might be.
And then she noticed his hands—large, strong hands. How she loved hands. Some girls liked chests and others liked butts. She loved hands. And his looked solid and capable. A warrior’s hands. She sighed again.
“Well, hope to see you around,” he said, after the long awkward pause she just realized had happened.
“Um, yeah. Right,” she murmured, but too late. He was already gone. Yep. Way to make a lasting impression, Shay. Not!
She glanced around the small store once more before walking toward the cash register. Her handsome warrior must have slipped out. Feeling foolish and distracted, she paid for her groceries, loaded up her tote bag, then walked out the door and collided into someone walking in.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, looking up into a black fathomless gaze.
Shay’s heart slammed against her rib cage. She’d been foolish enough to walk out the door without putting her glasses back on or her earbuds back in her ears. An angry buzz filled her head, growing louder by the second. She shook her head, trying to dispel the distracting noise. Color—or the lack of color, more like a muddy darkness—surrounded him. Head down, she pushed past him. Gooseflesh raising her skin where she’d touched him.
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