Beth looks at Heidi from the corner of her eye, blowing smoke through tight lips. “Nineteen years.”
Heidi lets out a surprised chuckle. “And they still don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Heidi laughs again. “Oh come on.” She places a hand on Beth’s forearm.
Beth glances down at it and then up to her, catching her blue eyes.
“Siren to Siren,” Heidi says, nudging her elbow. “Are you not a Siren?” She retracts her hand, blushing. “I just thought because of your aura.”
Beth takes a long inhale. “What about it?”
“It’s like a Siren’s. Yours comes off bitter like winter air, but warm like a summer breeze.”
Beth grinds her cigarette into the concrete steps. “I wouldn’t have a job in The Keep if I was an Abysmal. I’d be hanged from The Gallows in Erewhon.” Beth gathers her things and straightens her blazer. “Keep quiet about who you are. I don't want to find you burning from some tree by those pretty blonde curls of yours.”
“Vessel,” Adrian said.
“What?”
“She's a Vessel. She hasn't killed my men by seducing them. She has powers.”
“Then explain her aura. I know what I felt.”
“She's a mix. A Siren and a Vessel.”
“Disgusting hybrid.”
Hybrids were a rarity after Blue Ruin, a war that divided Abysmals. Heidi hadn’t met a hybrid in all her years working with Adrian. They’d been slaughtered first. Traitors.
Adrian flicked the top off a vial and pressed the rubber tip to Beth’s fang. The vial filled with her clear venom.
“What are you doing?” Heidi asked.
Adrian drew his fingers along Beth’s side and between a tear in her shirt. He ripped the blouse further and skimmed over her ribs. Old scars mutilated space beneath her bra. Faded black lines mixed with silver and disappeared beneath a healed wound. “She's old,” Adrian said, following the invisible lines of her Signet.
“So?”
He touched her with interest. Fascination. Heidi cleared her throat.
Adrian rose, pocketing the vial. “Call Aegis for her.” He walked toward the car.
“What? You're going to let her live?”
“Call Aegis. Follow her case and tell me where she is.” Adrian slid into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window.
Heidi crossed her arms. “It doesn't make any sense to kill her later when you can kill her now.”
For the last six months, Adrian paid Heidi to track Beth’s moves. Heidi had stayed late after Beth left for the day, digging through files Beth had been working on. But, she never found the ones she wanted. Needed. The files that revealed rats within the department. Files that had her name on them. Adrian’s name. Sayer and Dimitri’s name. The files existed. Heidi had seen them floating from desk to desk, only to wind up in Beth’s office. There, they disappeared into a locked and charmed drawer. She'd tried to open it – burned her fingers from a Repellant spell, knocked herself unconscious from a high voltage electricity charm. Unable to open the drawer on her own, she'd kept the discovery hidden from Adrian. He'd find someone else who could open it. Replace her. And then what? She scrounged for other files, hoping Adrian thought they were as important as erasing his name and accomplices’ names from crimes. She told Adrian what she found. Beth was closing in on him. He needed her gone.
“Keep track of her,” Adrian said. “She's going to help me.”
Chapter Three: The GateKeeper
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” Liam Winston said. “It’s been ten years since my last confession.” He shifted in the small confessional, his shoulders hunched, knees aching, feet flat against the opposite wall. The porous screen dividing him from the priest smelled of incense.
“What are your sins, son?” the priest asked, his voice hoarse like an old man’s.
Sins. What are my sins?
Ten years collected a lot of wrongs. Wrongs that were rights. Memories reeled in his head as if in rewind. Life flickered by in shades of blood.
“I've killed…” Liam said.
An image came to mind of a Vampire and a woman. It had been late at night. Too late for the average person to roam the streets alone with good intentions. He'd left work and had been walking to his car when he heard the scream. It faded into a dark alleyway where a Vampire dragged an unconscious woman into the shadows. The night ended with a splatter of blood and a throbbing headache.
“…many,” he said, staring down at his hands.
He'd killed another man – paralyzed him before using an Annihilation spell. The man had sixty years left to live. Liam only had two months. Using the Hands of Time spell, he stole the man’s lifespan.
As the last GateKeeper, he needed to live. Liam’s power kept the worlds from colliding. If his power fell into the wrong hands, the world would face its downfall.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
He held the capability to tear open dimensions that had been sealed. Dimensions like Abysm, now abandoned and desolate from decades of war. He could see beyond into the next life and beneath the sheet over protected minds.
“Son?” the priest said, pulling Liam from one thought and throwing him into another.
His breath caught when last week resurfaced. Two Vampires had broken into his home, searching for him. The red flash from the Annihilation spell tore the memory apart.
He took a deep breath, and with it came the day his family died. His house had burned to the ground. Mother. Father. Sister. Gone. He remembered a woman with long ebony hair and the way it stuck to the blood on her chest when he’d stabbed her. His fingers tensed, as if remembering the feel of the blade meeting the resistance of muscle and bone.
“Do you see the wrong of your actions, son?”
The wrongs…
He bowed his head, hoping the thoughts would fall to the forefront of his mind.
…the wrongs.
Killing was wrong, but was it wrong when it made a right? He hadn't killed an innocent being in many years. The guilt that weighed on his shoulders then felt heavier than the guilt of killing a man who deserved to die.
He sighed. His body ached, whether from the burden of his sins or the cramped confessional.
“An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind,” the priest mused.
Liam let out a breathless chuckle.
After a blessing, he left the confessional and walked through the vast church to a statue. He lit a candle and knelt at the feet of Elise, Protector of Souls. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small blade. The sharp edge pressed hard against his finger where he sliced the skin open. Drop by drop, his poisoned blood fed the hungry flame of the candle.
Mystics believed sins were like parasites, something that could feed off of their magic and make them ill or evil. Like any disease, they needed to rid themselves of it. They needed a cure. Offering blood to the Gods was their way of purifying themselves and asking for forgiveness only a God could give. Sometimes the Gods listened. Sometimes the Gods let them bleed.
Elise’s porcelain arms moved over him as the red flame turned blue. Liam healed his finger and began to pray.
Serenity filled him at the end of the prayer. A clean slate. His stomach eased with the thought. I'm not damned.
He kissed her chipped feet and exited through the main entrance. Two enchanted gargoyles sheathed their swords and turned to stone. He reached behind the first to retrieve his hidden flask. Drinking the last of his rum, he shuffled from the church and around a corner.
The sharp chirp of his radio broke his stride. “Attention all units, attention all units, requesting all Elixirs in the area to report to…”
Liam jotted the coordinates on his hand before responding. “This is Elixir 1205. ETA thirty seconds.” He tossed the flask into a nearby garbage and adjusted the collar of his white uniform.
Another long night.
He conjured The Wend, using the given coor
dinates to transport him to a crime scene. Air whipped at his sides and broke apart the quiet street. The church dissolved into a pond, the homes into a burning structure. The swirling winds stopped, and Liam found himself on a crowded street. People screamed and snapped pictures, asking questions of what had happened. The Mundane Connecticut police urged people to return to their homes. Reporters asked if the fire was another arson or an accident.
Liam pushed past them and slipped through The Veil that kept human eyes from seeing the true carnage. Fire had eaten away at a large home and most of the property. Craters, meters deep, broke apart the rolling hills and front lawn. Flares, tiny magical orbs of light, hovered in the sky above the destruction, sending light onto trails of blood and lifeless bodies.
Adrian. His muscles constricted at the thought, his fist tense at his side. With ease, the crime scene at his feet melded to the memory of discovering his family dead. The fire. The blood. The piercing silence.
Liam had spent many late nights carrying Mystic bodies to the morgue, contacting family members, explaining the situation, and comforting them while they cried. Their screams, forever seared into his mind, echoed in his lonely nights.
“Here, over here,” Jeremy shouted, a Collector who handled the clean ups.
Liam walked to the short, balding man. He peered over his shoulder into a crater. Flares spiraled to the bottom, illuminating against the bloodied face of a brunette woman.
“Why is she still down there?” Liam asked.
“We’re waiting on the pixies to get her up,” Jeremy said.
“Using The Wend isn't sufficient enough or…?”
Jeremy stepped against the crater’s edge. Rock crumbled, a chunk of earth falling beneath itself. “It's too unstable. We can get down there. No promise of making it back up.”
Liam nodded and turned to the rest of the property. Elixirs huddled over charred bodies and remains of Collectors, screaming orders to one another. Another mission gone wrong. It was happening more and more these days. Adrian's tactics had run ahead of Collectors’ capabilities.
“What a mess,” he muttered. “How many?”
“Ten in total,” Jeremy said. “Nine dead. One alive.”
He spun on his heels to Jeremy. “Alive?” Adrian never leaves someone behind.
“Barely.” Jeremy pointed to a large group of Elixirs beside the home. “Beth Hollings,” he sighed, wiping his eyes. “She was the head of this mission. Looks like Adrian got her pretty bad.”
Liam searched through the chaotic thoughts of Elixirs for Beth’s. Behind the inner screams from the living, Liam felt the small blip of Beth’s heart pounding in her mind. He dove deeper for a sense of her status, finding her lost within a depthless black, floating beneath the folds of reality. A deep growl ripped through the dark and pushed him out of her head. He stumbled back, the force palpable enough that it'd felt like he'd been kicked in the chest.
He walked toward the home. The stench of burning flesh and smoldering wood latched onto the strong breeze and filled the area. He stepped over debris and nudged Elixirs. They parted, revealing a woman on the ground.
Her clothes were tattered and burned through, her skin black along her chest and shoulders. Bones pierced through the skin of her hands and knees, fresh blood around the wounds. Blonde hair, singed from flames, matted to areas of perspiration.
Liam watched her respirations – shallow and rapid. His stomach clenched. She could've had a husband, maybe even a child or two. Another widow. Another single parent family. Another long night that would haunt his memories.
“What are we doing for her?” he asked the two Elixirs kneeling on either side of her.
“We've mended broken bones and repaired the first degree burns,” the female Elixir said. She broke open another potion bottle, cursing under her breath. “We can't do much else until we transport her to Erewhon.” She turned around. “Can I get fucking healing potions over here?”
“Which is when?”
The male looked at his watch. “Two minutes.”
Liam knelt beside him and ran his fingers over Beth’s shoulder. The third degree burns required potions only hospitals supplied. Until then, he conjured numbing spells and drew them along her wounds. Her body glowed turquoise, and he intensified the numbing charm until her breathing slowed and deepened. The male Elixir formed an air bubble in his palm, adjusted its size, and then placed it over her mouth and nose.
“Dimitri didn't approve of using The Wend to transport her?” Liam asked.
The man shook his head. “He doesn't want Abysmals to find their way into the dimension.”
“I think they have better things to do than visit Erewhon.”
The female Elixir snorted. “Those things will look for any chance to get into Erewhon.” She snatched potions from another Elixir and poured them over Beth’s legs. “They've destroyed their own world. What was it called again?”
The male shrugged.
“Abysm,” Liam said. He remembered it, even from centuries ago. Although a Mystic, Abysm had become his second home during Blue Ruin. The trees grew in a way that was foreign to Erewhon. The skies lit up with twinkling stars and comets at night. And the screams from the war guided him to the battlegrounds.
“Right,” the woman interrupted his thoughts. “Abysm. They destroyed their own world. I'm sure they don't like living with the humans in the Mundane. Erewhon looks like a mighty fine–”
A helicopter landing on the opposite side of the property cut the woman’s words. They turned their faces away from the harsh wind, and Liam shielded Beth from the flying debris. He propelled a Shield over them that blocked the wind. Pieces of the house collided against the barrier and rebounded with a thud.
Two flight Elixirs ran across the front lawn. They rounded the Shield, stretcher in tow, gear stuffed into their pockets.
“Who’s coming?” one Elixir said as he helped his colleague strap Beth to the stretcher. He attached leads and poured potions over her wounds. They glowed like sunlight, soaking deep into necrotic tissue.
“I'll go,” Liam said, and held the Shield in place as they carried her to the helicopter.
***
Liam didn't like what he saw. Beth had third degree burns, deep lacerations that cut to the bone, extensive blood loss, fractured ribs and both femurs. The first Elixir to reach her reported they'd found traces of an Annihilation spell on her skin and remnants of a shattered Shield in her palms.
Yet, she was alive.
Elixirs at the hospital in Erewhon deemed it a miracle. Elise had been watching over Beth, they’d said. Liam had his doubts. Gods didn't intervene for an average Mystic. Gods didn't intervene at all.
“Run another saline line,” Liam said.
The hospital room had calmed since he'd first arrived. Elixirs had been outside the hospital, awaiting the helicopter’s arrival. They’d rushed to Liam’s side, rattling off orders and demanding report.
Beth was unresponsive. However, respirations were normal, heart rate and rhythm steady. No signs of shock or distress. She was stable despite her injuries. She wouldn't or couldn't die. The thought sent unease deep into Liam’s bones. An urge to move, to pace tingled in his muscles.
Time, seemingly endless for Beth, was on their side. Elixirs repaired broken bones with deep concentration. Not haste. An intern sutured her wounds with care and administered healing potions while another carefully bandaged Beth’s knees.
Liam pulled up a chair and sat beside Beth. An Elixir had tended to Beth’s blonde hair, straightening it and reviving it of its sunshine color. It cascaded over her bandaged shoulders and flowed over her sides.
A bright silver gleam caught Liam’s eye. He peeled back the torn flap in her shirt to reveal the patch of skin against her ribs where her Signet had once been. A mix of scars and healing wounds masked the glowing silver lines. Liam knew the ancient tradition of branding beings. Every family lineage had a symbol that was etched with magic into their skin. One of the fir
st brandings was done on the rib cage. Soon, the wrist and neck became popular as the centuries wore on.
“She's old,” the intern said, hooking another saline bag to the IV pole. “Ancient.”
“Too old,” a female Elixir said. “You won’t find any Signets on the ribs anymore. I've been working here thirty years. This girl is the first I've seen.”
“How old would she have to be?” the intern asked.
The Elixir shrugged. “Last I knew, they stopped branding beings on the ribs two hundred years ago.”
“That's not the real question.” Liam placed his finger at the top of the mutilated Signet. He sent small pulsations of magic into the scars. They shriveled to reveal a smooth patch of skin with silver and black lines dancing along a Phoenix’s wings. The Phoenix. He pulled his hand away, the scars reforming. His breath caught in his throat. He recognized the Signet. He'd seen it before during Blue Ruin on another.
“What's the real question?” the intern asked.
A million thoughts flooded his mind. Phoenix. Blue Ruin. Abysmal. He cleared his throat. Leroux.
Chapter Four: Aegis
Maura wished she could die. At least that's how she felt the first week in an Erewhon hospital.
Pink scars colored her porcelain body. She flipped her hands, examining places where skin had been charred. Everything was still tight like someone had stretched skin over muscles and pinned the excess flesh together. The Elixir explained the lotion he’d provided would help loosen the misshapen scars.
Beeps, drips, and wailing alarms from empty IV’s droned on in the background. She pulled off the electrode leads, and the heart monitor blinked. She rose from the hospital bed and winced as painful stabs shot down her sides.
The door swung open. Two Elixirs stood cross-armed, shaking their heads. They shuffled into the room. Neil released the bed rails. Sarah, with her pixie cut brown hair and matching beady eyes, led Maura to the awaiting bed. “What do you think you’re doing, Beth?”
Blue Ruin (The Phoenix Series Book 1) Page 3
