Phoenix

by Dawn Rae Miller

  "You're welcome." I glance up at Beck and his facial expression shifts in an instant. Gone is the calm, almost concerned boy. He's replaced with something deep and sinister. It's in Beck's eyes. They flash darkly.

  From his place near the fire, Ryker says, "Hiya, Beck. It's good to see you, again."

  Beck laughs. "Are you sure about that?" Sarcasm drips from his words.

  With a flick of his wrist, Beck lifts Ryker from the chair and forces him into a kneeling position. Ryker's hands are locked behind his head.

  "Is this what you want?" Beck asks me, his husky voice wrapping its way around my brain and lulling me into bliss. This is the Beck I've come to love – the one who sees me as his equal. To him, I'm no longer the little girl who needs protection; I'm a grown witch who can bring the world to its knees. I'm a force to be reckoned with. I'm his mate.

  I tilt my head and study Ryker's calm face. He gives away nothing. But his feelings do. He's terrified of us. Both of us - together.

  "He came here on his own," I point out, somewhat remorsefully. Torturing Ryker would get us the information we want quicker. Unfortunately, it would also bring my guards running, and right now, I want this to stay between Beck, Ryker, and me. "We should hear what he has to say."

  "He came because I told him to." Beck moves closer to Ryker. In his upturned hand, a small flame dances.

  "What's that?" I say, even though I know. Memories of Mother torturing me with similar fireballs flash through my brain.

  "A little helper to get to the truth."

  I recoil in horror. This isn't Beck. It's my evil magic flooding him. I set Ryker on fire once before, and I don't want to do it again. "Put it away, please," I beg. "It reminds me too much of my own ordeal."

  Beck turns toward me. "What's wrong, Birdie? Have you gone soft?" His lips curl into a smirk I want to slap away.

  "Do you see, Lark? Do you see what your magic is doing to Beck?" Ryker says from his spot in the middle of the room. "Is saving him something to die for?"

  "You admit your role in the attacks?" I ask. "You were seen with the Splinter group and somehow avoided being put in one of those cement ovens."

  "I escaped, so they took Lena instead – to lure me out." Ryker shakes his head. "No. I had nothing to do with the attacks, but if I knew this would happen – that Beck would be feeding off your magic - I would have taken care of things much sooner."

  Fabulous. He's admitting he'll kill me now. "Ryker, watch how you say things."

  Beck yanks Ryker to his feet and slaps him across the face. "Don't ever threaten Lark. Do you understand?"

  Ryker spits out blood-tinged saliva. "I'm not threatening her. I'm pointing out what no one wants to say to you – you're going Dark. Look at you!"

  With a shove, Beck releases Ryker. He stares at me in confusion before throwing his hands over his ears. "Make it stop," Beck begs. "Please, Lark, make this stop."

  Ryker and I stare at each other in horror.

  It's true, Beck is going Dark. Darker than even me. Or am I so far gone, I have no idea how bad off he is?

  Does any of that matter?

  My Dark magic is somehow corrupting beautiful, brilliant Beck and making him into a monster.

  I slump to the ground and wrap my arms around Beck's legs. For so long, I've used him as my rock, but now, he needs me. I need to be strong for him.

  But I've lost my way. It's hard to admit that, but it's true. I've forgotten who I truly am. I'm not just Lark Greene, daughter of the State, but I'm a loyal friend, a devout mate, and most of all, a compassionate, loving person. I'm not the girl who sets people on fire and manipulates things to get her way.

  I'm not.

  Or at least, I hope I'm not.

  I push a stray hair off my face and stare up into the two eyes watching me. Olive with freckles.

  I'm a wreck. I need to know the truth – is Beck's craziness me, or is it just madness. And where is that madness coming from?

  I've lost all sight of what's important. When I first started this journey, all I wanted was to clear Beck's name; then I wanted to save myself; and once I realized I may kill Beck, my priorities shifted to keeping him safe at all costs. Now I'm back to protecting him from me.

  How am I going to find me through all this?

  My heart burns. Slowly consuming me from the inside out. It's Beck, nibbling away at my hard fought sanity.

  Help me, Birdie, he cries out over and over again, until I force my hands over my ears.

  Ryker leans over me and pulls me to my feet. "Acting like this won't do either of you any good," he says matter-of-factly. "You know what you need to do, Lark."

  I lift my chin and narrow my eyes. "Not yet. Not now," I order. Not that Ryker will absolutely listen to me, but he may waver enough to give Beck and me more time. "Have you forgotten you're a wanted criminal, and I just saved you from some fun with flames? I'd think twice before putting any demands on me."

  I'm not going to let Beck go down a Dark path. I'm going to keep him from destroying himself. I will keep him safe from me.

  #

  After calming Beck down, I waste no time summoning Henry, Annalise, and Eloise to my room. I keep Ryker hidden, in the sitting room with Beck - just until I'm ready to reveal him.

  "There are things I need to know," I say. "First, when we find Ryker, what will happen to him?"

  Annalise keeps her face still, but her eyes flash with curiosity. "We'll detain him until we extract the truth."

  "What measures would you employ?"

  "It's best you don't know, Lark," my guard says. "Malin never dirtied herself with these things for a reason."

  My stomach drops. Torture. "I don't want him harmed."

  Everyone stares at me quizzically.

  "Please tell, what should we do with a criminal with Ryker's abilities? Have a sing-a-long?" Annalise retorts.

  I give a tense smile. "Question him like a normal person."

  Annalise's face is an emotionless mask. "I don't question normal people."

  This line of discussion is going nowhere, so I say, "Second, I want Beck sent to the Eastern Society as soon as possible. We need to cement the treaties, and hopefully secure more food for our people." It's the furthest place I can think to send him.

  Henry's shoulders sloop. "Lark, I'm afraid Beck isn't in the best shape to be traveling."

  "What do you mean?"

  "That he's showing more Dark tendencies. Haven't you noticed?"

  Actually, I have. "He's just shaken from the attacks. It's normal behavior. Remember how I was after leaving Summer Hill?"

  "I'm afraid I have to put my foot down," Henry says. "Beck needs to stay close to home for now."

  "What? You can't do that."

  Henry holds onto the back of a chair. "Yes, we can. And we will."

  Beck emerges from the sitting room, leaving Ryker alone and unattended. Excellent. Now Ryker can escape and kill me. Or us. It's his choice.

  "You can't, not without our cooperation." The vein in Beck's neck bulges.

  We stand side-by-side, facing down the people who conspire against us. I hold out my hand, magic bubbling inside me. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'll be damned if they refuse to obey me. When I glance to my right, I notice Beck has assumed the same position.

  Henry sighs and shakes his head. "Very well then. He's free to come and go as you wish."

  "Good. As soon as possible, Beck, I want you to head to the Eastern Society." I don't say the real reason, but I know he understands. We need to stay away from each other. "You may leave," I say, dismissing Annalise and Henry.

  After they leave, Beck and I head into the sitting room. Ryker, to my surprise, is still there.

  "This," he says, making a circular motion with his finger. "Is the safest place for me to hide. Don't you think so, Beck?"

  My mouth gapes open. "Beck just tried to kill you. Why do you want to stay here?"

  Ryker smiles at me, the way he used to when we were friends. "Be
cause he's leaving soon, and you don't want me dead."

  "So I'm supposed to live with my former-mate-turned-possible-assassin while Beck's gone?"

  Beck leans down and pecks me on the forehead. "Just for now, Birdie. Just for now."

  I glance at the two of them. "You're both crazy."

  "Then that makes three of us," Ryker jokes.

  "Not funny, Ryker," I hiss. I sit opposite of him. If this is going to work, I need to take control of the situation. "Here are the rules. You stay in this room. I'll keep my staff out. You will grant me privacy and not venture into the bedroom unless you ask permission first. This includes if you have to use the bathroom."

  Ryker bobs his head. "Got it."

  "No jokes about Beck and me."

  "Okay."

  "And you must stay here. No coming and going. No visiting Lena."

  He pauses before nodding in agreement. "Done."

  I stare at the two boys. My life just got infinitely more complicated.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Every once and a while, I enjoy arriving to the State's offices like a normal human - by walking. Today is one of those days. After alerting Landon of my plans, I select my warmest jacket and ask Beck if he'd like to join me.

  "Another chance for the people to see us together?" he asks as we stroll toward the State building.

  "Another chance for them to grow used to us being a team." I reach down and grab hold of his warm hand.

  Beck stops and drags his foot across the ground. "You know, we've never been officially bound, and you're still bound to Ryker - at least in the eyes of the public. How can we change that?"

  I look into his olive eyes, and my heartbeat speeds up. "You want a real binding?"

  "Yes," Beck answers before looking away. "A State affair. Something grand – like we were supposed to have."

  I shake my head. "It was bad enough admitting Ryker and my binding was false, and I'm not sure an elaborate binding will help people forget. We can't have that risk. Not now."

  We cross the street and off in the distance I spot a work crew of Sensitives. Their bright red wristlets visible even at this distance.

  "So we'll just go on like this forever?"

  "I'm yours, Beck. Flashy ceremonies and official bindings won't change that." I kiss the back of his hand. "Don't forget, I have your magic locked up tight in my heart. I couldn't not be with you."

  Beck runs his fingers through his hair. "A real binding would show the Light and Dark witches we are united. That it is possible to work together."

  He has a point. "I'm trying to make this all work. You and me, and the public. It's a lot to balance on top of my job responsibilities. We don't even know if we can be around each other right now without you suffering." I pause and look into his eyes, remembering the tormented way he begged me to help him. "I want you, but I can't worry if you want an official binding right now, I need to focus on my job. And appearances."

  "Appearances are all we have at the moment, if you haven't realized. As long as the public loves us, we're safe from being overthrown." He leans down and taps his head against the top of mine. "Let's give the people something to be excited about. Something other than the Founders' Ball."

  I slap my forehead. "Stupid me. I thought fresh bread and eggs would be enough to make them like us. What they really need is another State expense and an elaborate binding."

  A few familiar strands of Alouette carry on the wind, and I jerk my head toward the line of Sensitives repairing a stonewall. One of them keeps his eyes locked on Beck and me.

  "Did you hear that?" Beck demands and swivels his head toward the work crew. "That Sensitive over there was whistling it."

  He drops my hand and sprints toward the group. The man keeps his head held high. I can't hear what Beck is saying, but he's clearly agitated. His tense shoulders and rigid posture give him away.

  I look to my guards to see if any of them are going to put a stop to Beck's confrontation, and seconds later, when my gaze swings back to Beck, the man is lying on the ground, convulsing. Landon and another guard are yanking Beck away.

  "Don't threaten us again, you trash!" Beck yells. His recklessness scares me. If he's willing to attack Sensitives with magic – which I think he did - what else will he do in public that will compromise our secret?

  I close my eyes and focus on wiping the incident from the other Sensitives' minds. They blink blankly at me.

  "Miss Lark," one of them says before dropping to his eyes and staring at the ground.

  "Nothing happened here," I order. More blank stares.

  Good.

  Neither Beck nor I speak as our guards hurry us up Golden Gate Avenue and toward the State building. Its golden dome looms over us.

  "Beck," I say between gasps for air when we reach the building. "What was that?"

  "He threatened you. I could feel how scared you were, so I took care of it."

  He's so matter-of-fact and cold that I can't speak. I literally can't form sounds. Like both Henry and Ryker said, Beck is acting more erratic and out-of-control.

  But only with me.

  Only around me.

  We climb the marble steps to the giant building. Once inside, the normal hustle of Statesmen and women pulls us deeper into the heart of the action until we arrive at the internal staircase. Every so often I catch a whisper or a look, but mostly the crowd around us seems pleasantly surprised to see Beck and me out together.

  "Are you ready for work?" Beck says, as if nothing has happened. It's like he flipped a switch back to calm and mellow.

  My mind is racing, and Beck wants to know about my day. I feel like I'm going crazy.

  At the top of the staircase, I turn toward Beck and dip my head politely. His office is in the left wing, mine is in the right. For security reasons, we need to keep our distance while at work.

  "What time are you leaving today?" It can't be soon enough. He needs to be away from me.

  "After the Council meeting." He smiles, a bright gleaming white grin. "To my surprise, Callum actually has good ideas. We've already begun initial conversations with their Head of State, and I'm allowing him to oversee that. He seems happy."

  I suck on my lip. All these years, my brother was relegated to Mother's errand boy because of his Light magic, and I assumed, his incompetence. But Beck is saying Callum is up for the task of helping lead this mission.

  Did Mother really hate the Light witches so much she punished her son for being born that way?

  "See you in twenty minutes for our briefing?" he asks.

  "Of course," I say before turning and walking down the hallway toward my office. The plush carpet stifles my frantic footfall, but I'm hurrying – running really – away from Beck. The farther away from me he is, the better.

  My office feels empty and cold. Once, before they were killed, Dawson and Oliver would spend most of their days here with me. Teaching me about magic and other vital facts about our Society. But now, I'm alone. Landon and my other guards stay stationed outside my door and down the hallway.

  Still, there is work to be done, starting with how to grow more food, faster to prevent another uprising like the one last month. I don't have time to worry about Beck right now.

  With my hand, I draw a circle in the air and a large map appears on the far wall. All the Ag Centers are located along what we call The Fertile River. Once it had a longer name, one almost unpronounceable - the Mississippi, but that was before the Long Winter. Now, our centers are strategically arranged along the Southern half of this mighty river where the sun is stronger, and the snow less frequent.

  Putting all of our crops in one area seems risky to me. I wonder why Mother did it. The first rule of agriculture is to maximize space and replenish the soil. If we keep growing in the same spots, the fields may very well under-produce or produce nothing at all.

  I study the map. There's another river, The Colorado, which also flows into the Southlands. Perhaps we should set-up a center there too. J
ust one at first, as a test. I make a note on my tablet to bring it up during the Council meeting.

  The popping noise of a transporting witch catches my attention. Since my office is secure and only a handful of witches can transport in, I'm not completely surprised find Annalise staring back at me.

  "I thought you were off today," I say.

  She shakes her head. "Since when do I have days off? I'm not Kyra."

  I have to smile at that. For as much as my friend loves her job, she loves her days off even more.

  Annalise hands me my tablet. "You should be up-to-date before the Council meeting."

  I quickly scan the reports of uprisings and food riots that fill my tablet. Annalise leans over my shoulder and reads.

  "What are you going to do?" she asks.

  "Get them food. It's our best weapon. Whoever can feed the people, holds the State."

  Annalise turns my chair around. Her tiny, rounded stomach is at my face level. "Lark," she says, leaning her dark head close to mine. "Before the Council meeting, I need to tell you something." She pushes the button behind her ear, shutting down her wristlet feed. I take this as a cue to cover up my wristlet with my dress sleeve.

  "What is it?"

  Annalise touches her stomach. "I'm pregnant, Lark."

  "How? I thought you and Callum--"

  "It's Oliver's." Melancholy fills her voice, and my heart breaks.

  A pause. Then another. A blush colors my cheeks. "I didn't know...ummm...congratulations...you'll be a great mother." The words tumble out of me nonsensically.

  "When Callum finds out-"

  "He'll punish you." I finish her sentence. Knowing my brother all to well, he won't take kindly to Annalise's news. "Do you feel you need my protection?"

  Tears well in my sister-in-laws eyes. "Yes. For the baby. I'm strong, I can protect myself, but the baby..."

  Poor Annalise. This baby is the last piece of Oliver she has left. "Do you want to move into my home?" I say this more as a last favor to Oliver than out of love for Annalise. After all, I'm the reason he's no longer with us.

  Annalise nods. "I think it will be for the best."