Blaze of Wrath (Phoenix Rising Book 5)

by Harper Wylde

  The girl whimpered and I turned back to her. Grabbing the rolling stool nearby, I sat on it and spun around, making her smile again and easing her fear.

  “Now then,” I addressed the little girl. “Why don’t we say goodbye to Mister Grumpy Pants over there and see if we can help you feel a little better?” A smirk tilted my lips and she giggled.

  I cast a wide smile in Rune’s direction when I heard him grumble, but I didn’t miss the look of approval in his eyes as he and his medic exited the room.

  Rini chuckled. “I can’t believe you challenged him like that.” She shook her head.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t.” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Hey… respect your elders and all that sh—” Rini nearly cursed, but quickly redirected her speech. “And all that stuff.”

  Quiet laughter sounded from the little girl, but it quickly ended in a cry of pain.

  Holding my hand out, palm toward the ceiling, I motioned to the girl. “Do you mind if I take a look at your arms first? See if I can help heal these cuts? They must sting.”

  Slowly, she tucked her wings back behind her and reached toward me. I waited, holding as still as a statue until one, furry little hand landed in mine, and I didn’t miss the wince the girl gave as she extended her arm, gripping her abdomen with her other hand to ward off the pain she was feeling.

  Hovering my palm over the girl’s arm, I hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?” Rini whispered and I swallowed, the vision of the black tendrils of power that had appeared on the island when I’d tried to save Nix plaguing my mind.

  “I…” I gulped and closed my eyes.

  “Ry?” Rini prompted, worry lacing her tone. “She’s hurting.”

  Angry determination surged through my veins and I slammed the memory of the dark power away. I was so tired of feeling completely out of control of my life, and I grabbed a hold of that feeling as I tapped into my healing magic and let my hands heat and glow blue.

  Waves of power pushed into the girl’s body as I assessed what was wrong with her. Cuts knit back together and bruises eased as my magic identified and touched each one. Carefully moving my hands over her body, I felt for the pain in her abdomen.

  “She has a broken rib,” I murmured, my eyes tightly shut as I focused.

  “You can fix it, right?” Rini inquired.

  “I can, but it’s going to hurt. Can you—”

  “Out of my way.” A little boy’s gruff voice cut off my question, and I opened my eyes to see a normal looking eight or nine-year-old boy wheeling his IV pole over to the girl’s bed. He clutched a wound on his abdomen, which had bled through the medical grade gown he was wearing. A serious scowl creased his forehead as he neared the edge of the bed before gingerly climbing onto the mattress. It dipped slightly under his weight as he crawled to the girl’s side and wrapped his available arm around her shoulders.

  “Hold tight, Sia. This dude is going to fix you, alright? But it’s going to hurt. You can do this, and afterward, you’ll feel so much better, okay?” he soothed her, though he was in pain himself, and she leaned into him, nodding with wide, frightened eyes.

  Right away, I could tell this boy was the leader of their little group. Together, these kids formed a little family, and he’d kept them together and alive. My respect for the kid, despite his age, grew tremendously.

  “I’ll make this quick,” I promised Sia, then laid a hand over the break and unleashed my magic. Her rib snapped back into place and sealed itself together, good as new. Sia grunted and buried her ridged nose into her friend as she bore the brunt of her pain. When it was over, she sighed and swiped at the few tears that wet her furry cheeks.

  One down, three to go. I held my hand up and raised my eyebrow at the boy, who narrowed his gaze on me. For a full minute we sat still, and I waited until he relaxed and finally nodded. Maneuvering closer, I moved the gown aside to see a festering, infected wound surrounded by a severe blue and black bruise. The kid hissed through his teeth and threw his head back, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I told him, wondering if anyone had told him that, or reassured him while he stayed strong and comforted the others. “You did good, kid,” I praised, just before my hands heated. It took a little time to combat the infection, but once it was gone, the wound was easy to heal. Sia pressed her small form against his body in support, and once he was better, he sagged in relief.

  “How did you survive out there?” Rini asked in her soft, feminine voice that was as soothing as a warm blanket on a winter’s day.

  The boy let his tired gaze run over Rini, and he must have decided she was safe enough because he answered, “We found a few logs that we used as a raft.”

  “I tied them together,” another girl, who looked about eight, chimed in from across the room, and it took everything in me not to react to her looks. Silver scales shimmered over her skin, and she had pointed ears colored orange at the top. Her eyes were sharp and shifting as if she never missed a movement, and they glowed an eerie yellow in the basement lighting. She had an elongated nose and mouth, almost like a snout, with two sharp teeth that protruded over her bottom lip.

  The fourth child, a little boy around four, lay still on the bed across from hers, his chest barely rising and falling. Alarm shot through me and I crossed the room quickly. Sharp, horn-like protrusions jutted from his otherwise bald head, four in total, but what was even more unsettling was the long, curved, scorpion-like tail curled on the bed beside him.

  “He’s been like that for a few days.” The older girl’s voice cracked as she spoke. “Can you… do you think you can…” She trailed off, her unspoken question hanging in the air between us.

  I shook off my shock. “I don’t know,” I answered her honestly, “but I’m going to try.” My Ceraptor pawed the ground in my mind in agitated worry over the youngest child, and he pushed a surge of magic through my body, down my arms, and into my hands. They heated and glowed brightly as I placed them on the little boy’s chest. He was in rough shape, but I moved quickly from cut to cut, bruise to bruise, and worked to fix the effects of dehydration. However, it was his mind that bothered me the most. Head injuries were always tricky to heal. My hands cupped the sides of his head next, pressing against his temples. I let my hands heat slowly this time. If I pushed too hard too fast, it was possible I’d cause more damage when working around the most sensitive organ in the body. Minutes ticked by ever so slowly, until I felt the brain swelling recede. When I’d done all I could, I stepped back, a ragged breath shaking through me.

  We all waited with bated breath for the boy to respond, and I huffed a sigh of relief when his blue eyes finally opened. Panic slashed across his features as he looked around his unfamiliar surroundings and, with a whimper, he ripped the IV and blood pressure cuff off and scrambled from his bed, hopping onto the bed of the eight-year-old girl. She welcomed him with open arms, like a little mother, rubbing her hand down his back protectively. Silent tears tracked down her cheeks, revealing just how much she cared for the little one.

  Moving to her bed, I offered to heal her next, and luckily her injuries were less drastic than the others. When I was done, I retreated, giving the little boy some space. I could tell he was scared and I didn’t want to him to feel threatened by me. I reclaimed my seat on the rolling stool, feeling a little drained.

  “That’s Natia and Taavi,” the older boy informed us, “and I’m Aaron.”

  A small smile curved my lips. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

  Aaron narrowed his eyes on me and tilted his head. “You’re not going to ask like all the others?”

  My eyebrow rose and I waited for him to elaborate.

  “What their creatures are,” Aaron continued, rolling his eyes at my apparent denseness.

  Instead, I offered him a gentle smile. “That’s none of my business. If you or any of the others would like to tell me more about your t
ime on or off the island, or share any personal information, I’d love to listen, but I won’t push, prod, or poke answers from you.” I could see the wheels turning in Aaron’s mind as he processed my sentiments, and after a few minutes, he settled.

  “I’m a hippocampus. I’ve mastered my shift, so you can’t tell what my alter is, but it’s how we made it through the ocean. I’m a good swimmer and I pushed the raft with the others on it.” He puffed up his chest, clearly proud of what he’d accomplished.

  “That’s incredible,” I praised him, and I meant it. “You saved their lives.”

  “That was very brave of you.” Rini sat on the edge of their bed and gently reached out until she was rubbing a soothing palm over Aaron’s arm. “You’re safe now. We won’t let anyone hurt you—any of you—ever again,” Rini assured the kids.

  “Thank you for healing us,” Natia spoke up, and I felt the sincerity in the depth of her words. “What happens to us now?” she asked, and I didn’t miss the quiver in her voice.

  I looked to Rini, wondering the same damn thing.

  “We’re going to find you homes with rebellion members. We already have a list of potential families,” Rini answered the girl.

  “No one wants a broken hybrid like me.” Sia’s small voice nearly broke my heart.

  “Or us,” Natia chimed in. “No one wants a freak. They said so on the island. The others… they always took the normal looking kids and left us behind, even though some of those kids already had moms.” Tears clouded Natia’s yellow eyes.

  My heart beat in my chest, every thump audible in the quiet basement, and my hands shook as I thought about my sister being one of those moms, and about my niece being rehomed. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I forced myself to focus on what I could do—get answers in the here and now.

  “Hybrids?” I questioned, glancing first to Rini and then back to Natia.

  “They’re genetically altered, mixed breed children—hybrids,” Rini started, and Natia picked up where she stopped.

  “We’re mutts. Mashed up mixes of different mythologicals.” Her eyes looked sad, her entire countenance defeated as she continued, “I’m a naga,” she pointed to the glimmer of scales covering her arms, “and part kitsune.” Her ears twitched and my mind practically exploded.

  “I’m a minotaur, but my wings are gargoyle,” Sia interjected timidly.

  “And Taavi is a scorpion mixed with some kind of dragon,” Aaron answered for their youngest member, who was too shy to speak for himself.

  “They’re fucking experimenting on kids.” It had been obvious when I walked into the basement that these kids weren’t ‘normal’ and had been mutated somehow, yet I’d been so focused on helping heal the children, that reality hadn’t fully sunk into my brain until now. Rage sparked inside of me and quickly consumed the majority of my emotions, turning into a pyre that was ready to burn the world down. I’d never wanted to destroy the Council more than I did now. Somewhere behind all the anger was a pulsating devastation of what they’d done to my family. They’d ripped us apart and I would never be whole again until I could piece what was left of it back together.

  “We were born this way.” Natia rubbed absently at her scales.

  “Sia, Natia, and Taavi are stuck in their partially shifted forms. Because of their unique genetics, shifting doesn’t come intrinsically. It takes them time to learn how to naturally move between their human forms and their alters,” Rini explained.

  “We’re their failed trials, but they’re getting better.” Aaron had a hardness about him that no nine-year-old should have, and he nearly spit his words.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to fully wrap my mind around the extent of what has happened at the island.

  “I heard them talking about their formulas.” Aaron shrugged. “Every time they try to merge our creatures together, they learn from the parts that went wrong and they change their tactics. Their most recent creations can actually shift back and forth from the start, while it took me three years to learn how to shift to my fully human form. Natia, Sia, and Taavi are still learning how to shift.”

  “It’s painful,” Natia admitted, and Taavi nodded emphatically.

  My head was spinning, and I felt the room closing in on me with the more I learned about the shithole these kids grew up in. “Did you happen to know a little girl? A blonde. She’d be around four years old, I think. They… they took her recently,” I stammered, my heart pumping wildly in my chest as I waited with baited breath to learn more about my niece.

  “What creature would she be made out of?” Aaron’s eyebrows pulled together as if in thought.

  My throat felt like it was being squeezed by a boa constrictor as I thought about the answer. “Ceraptor. I… I’m not sure what else.”

  “What’s a Ceraptor?” Sia cocked her head to the side, looking adorably perplexed.

  “It’s like a unicorn,” Natia said dismissively, and a laugh bubbled out of Rini.

  The comment eased some of my overwhelming emotions like a balloon with a small pinhole, releasing its air slowly to relieve the pressure. Finally, I shook my head and let a small smile slip onto my lips, although I knew it didn’t fully light up my expression. “Something like that. My mate likes to call me My Little Pony names.”

  “What’s My Little Pony?” Natia tilted her head to the side with an inquisitive expression, and my heart broke all over again. Rini and I exchanged a look, and my despair was reflected back to me in the depths of her eyes.

  “It’s a TV show. It’s hard to explain, but I promise I’ll show it to you sometime soon,” Rini replied, smoothing over the cultural differences caused by their enslaved upbringing.

  “Ceraptor,” Aaron murmured and leaned forward slowly, until he was much closer to me. Then he inhaled, scenting me and my alter. “My sense of smell isn’t the best but yeah, you smell a little like her actually.” Aaron shrugged and leaned backward like he hadn’t just delivered the most gut-wrenching news.

  “You smell stronger than she did.” Sia peeked up at me, and her ridged nose wrinkled upward as she also breathed deeply. “She was nice. She was my friend.”

  “What’s her name?” I wanted to know like I needed my next breath.

  “Emersyn.” Aaron eyed me critically as I repeated the name after him. “She’s your family?” His voice rose at the end of his question.

  “I didn’t know she existed until just recently, but yes. I believe she is.” I ran my fingers through the strands of my purple hair, gathering the strength to ask the question brewing in my mind. “Her mother…” I trailed off, and saw the children turn their faces away or cast them downward. It was telling enough. I stood, forcing my legs to bear my weight.

  Turning away, I closed my eyes and gathered myself. It wasn’t new information. Logically, I knew that, but the constant confirmation that my sister was really and truly dead was like a dagger being thrust into my heart repeatedly. Each reminder hurt more than the last. I’d been mourning my sister’s loss for years, but now the Band-Aid I’d placed over the wound had been ripped away to show the ugly, bloody mess underneath. The reality I faced was raw and painful, and for once in my life, I didn’t know how to heal.

  Taking a deep breath, I pasted as real of a smile as I could muster onto my face, and finished what I’d come to do. With Rini’s help, we fed the children and I checked each of their vital signs. Giving orders to Rune, I made sure each of the kids would continue receiving their saline drip to keep them hydrated. By the time I was done, I was somewhere between numb and enraged.

  On the way out of the house, I promised I’d be back soon to check on the children before they were rehomed, and gave strict instructions to Rune to call me the second they needed me if anything else cropped up with these children or anyone else.

  When I finally burst through the front door back into the cold Alaskan air, I didn’t know what to feel. I thrust both hands into my hair and pulled hard, the physical pain barely
offsetting my internal ache.

  “Are you alright, Ryder?” Rini asked gently, and I turned to her with a hardened expression.

  “No,” I whispered, swallowing back the outburst that wanted to escape my lips, conscious of the kids in the house and how fragile they were. If I let loose, they’d definitely hear me, and they didn’t need to be exposed to my wrath. It had nothing to do with them and everything to do with the evil that had been waged against them.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to handle that. I know what you’re going through with your sister and your niece. You blew me away back there, Ryder. You were incredible with those kids,” Rini praised, with a glimmer in her eyes.

  I looked toward the low hung sun, squinting into the light it provided across the wintery landscape as I refused to look at Rini. I needed a moment… just a second… to compose myself before I lost it.

  “I’m not sure I’m handling it.” My jaw twitched as I gritted my teeth. I took a deep breath and blew it out, the heat contrasting with the cold air and puffing around me in a foggy visual. “The shit they’ve done… and for what? To create the perfect mythological? What the fuck were they doing on that island, Rini? Why take shifters and force them to breed? Why fucking mess with genetics? What are they trying to accomplish?” I whirled on her, and she straightened her shoulders, prepared to be the whipping boy for my verbal outburst. “They’re ruining people’s lives. Stealing women and breeding them like shifter chattels. Do you know how wrong that is? How sick and twisted someone has to be to kidnap a woman and take away the rights to her own body? And those kids! Those fucking innocent little kids! What did they do to them?” My shift roared down my spine, and I shook with the intensity of my Ceraptor’s power.