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Blue Ruin (The Phoenix Series Book 1)

Page 21

by Madison, Sophia


  “The pill is unstable. It’s unknown what could occur. It’s not my hands you’re putting your life into.”

  She looked to the side, staring at the wall, gaze glassy, eyes unmoving. She turned to stone again. “Don’t make me beg.” Her eyes turned to him, body rigid. “Please.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  She jumped to life. “Adrian is going to conjure the demons I’ve been cursed with. I can’t let that happen. You can’t let that happen. You know what it means for all of us.” Maura leaned forward on the desk, eyes wide. “I need something that will make him stop.”

  Jesse saw the desperation again. It glinted in her eyes like tears, clenched her fists tight on the desk. Her eyes wouldn’t release him. He heard the words, save me, in the air that hung between them. Forty years hadn’t changed her. Beneath the surface, she was still the terrified girl he’d come across on late nights praying, pleading to the Gods for help. He’d heard her then.

  He heard her now.

  He rubbed his eyes and dug through the desk, pulling out a small bag with silver pills inside. He took a pill and rolled it in his palm. The silver liquid turned magenta with the rocking motions.

  As messengers of the Gods, priests had been graced with access to their powers at one point. Jesse had the privilege of collecting droplets of their power throughout time. By accident he’d concocted Juliet’s pill from traces of Death’s Noose and the Resurrection spell.

  He slipped the pill into a bag. “You will die. If both spells are measured right, you should also come back within twelve hours of ingesting the pill.”

  Maura took the bag.

  “I can promise you that you will die, Maura. It is what will stop Adrian and save us all. But I cannot promise the black magic within the pill will not react with the black magic within your soul, or that you will come back to us.”

  She rose and tossed her scarf and shawl on. “Let’s hope Adrian dumps my body somewhere quickly.”

  A sad smile made his lips ache. He watched Maura Leroux walk away, the vessel holding the future of the Mystic world.

  Chapter Thirty-Three: The Last Night

  Liam sat in bed with a timeline of photographs along the blankets. Pale moonlight touched the edges of the frozen memories. Most were of his parents and younger sister. Picnics, birthdays, and holidays. Their smiling faces never aged throughout the years. They'd made sacrifices, killing one to save thousands with the Hands of Time spell. Their power kept the protective barriers between worlds strong. Without the Winston's, Abysm would flood into Erewhon, Erewhon would consume the Mundane, and all divides would disappear. That responsibility, the responsibility of protecting all worlds, rested on Liam's shoulders. He sighed, exhausted.

  In times where the world seemed too big, Liam wished for his father. Iden had helped his family carry the burden of being GateKeepers with stride. The weight balanced on all of their shoulders. Now, it bore down on only him. He ran a hand through his hair. Run. Kill. Hide. Repeat. His life cycled through his head like a deranged carousel. Run. Kill. Hide. Repeat. Liam needed his father to tell him the running would end.

  The creak of the door caught Liam’s attention. He turned on the edge of his bed and smiled.

  Maura leaned against the doorframe, dressed in a large button down shirt. No pants, a pillow against her chest. “I can’t listen to Kyle’s shows anymore.”

  Liam cleared the pictures to make room for her. She sat, shyly smiled, and looked around his room. “Why do you get the queen bed?”

  He chuckled and pulled her onto his lap. Her skin was warm against his, soothing. Lavender floated into his head and intensified when she leaned against him. He breathed her in deep. His hold around her waist tightened.

  She turned and placed her lips on his. Shock froze his body. Maura tasted of peppermint, her aura on her breath. Her lips hungrily sought his, her fingers knotting in his hair.

  Liam drew his fingers beneath her shirt and cupped her breast, his other hand at the small of her back, pressing her waist to his. He hardened beneath the slight rocking of her hips against his. He kissed along her neck as she wound her legs tighter around him.

  She leaned back, the line of her neck exposed, his lips falling to her chest. She gasped, her eyes opening, blazing with desire.

  He pulled back, a lock of her red hair in his fingers. “What are we doing?”

  Maura smiled and closed the space between them. Her lips hovered over his, her words a mere breath. “Does it matter?” She tugged at his pants, tore the button free, and slid her warm fingers down his front.

  He stiffened beneath her touch, his breath stuck in his throat.

  “I can stop if you want me to.” The tickle of her whisper beside his ear tumbled down the opening of his shirt. Her cooling aura skated across his skin, producing goosebumps. He moaned into her neck as she held him tighter, moved her hand faster.

  He wanted her. All of her. He'd had casual flirtations in the past, late nights with a Siren who disappeared in the morning. But, Maura made him feel different. Her touch ignited something in him. He wanted to break down her walls and keep her close. The idea of losing her before he’d come to know her, the real her, became painfully apparent. He looked at her, at the way her eyes glistened in the pale moonlight, how her seductive smile created two small dimples on either of her cheeks.

  Her smile faded into a smirk, her eyes searching his before widening with the silence. He brushed loose curls from her eyes and pressed his lips to hers. Her taste slid down his throat, her tongue rolling over his. She moaned beneath the kiss. Her hold loosened, her arms coming around his shoulders.

  He hoisted her against the wall, her legs tight around his waist.

  Maura pulled his shirt off as his fingers flew up the back of hers. The buttons from her top scattered around the dark room followed by their shirts. She giggled, her bare skin warm against his.

  Liam slid his fingers beneath the thin lace fabric of her lingerie, her giggling turning into a gasp. Her legs tensed around him as he moved his fingers in steady strokes. He pressed his lips hard against her neck, kissing and biting her collarbone. Her moan trickled down his chest like chilled water. He smiled. Her body quivered under his touch, and he moved his fingers faster. Her legs squeezed him closer, her head back against the wall.

  “Stop,” she panted, breathless. She moaned again, biting her lower lip, eyes fluttering closed.

  “Only if you want me to,” he teased, and he retracted his touch.

  A smile sprang along her lips, a growl in her throat. She pushed him onto the bed and straddled his waist.

  He ran his hands along her sides, her mutilated Signet rough beneath his fingers.

  She kissed from his chest to his lips, sliding his pants off. Her kiss deepened as she broke the elastic band on his boxers and tossed the useless material across the room. Her body conformed to the curve of his, fitting perfectly.

  He trailed his fingers along her back. Goosebumps rose on her skin and spread to his with her wandering touch along his waist. He flipped her over, her hair fanning out behind her, their hips pressed against one another. The heat between them flushed her skin red.

  She gulped and let her arms fall to the sides. “I like you.”

  Liam smiled. “I like you.”

  Maura pulled him to her lips.

  With a quick tug, he ripped off her lace underwear. Her nervousness flooded his mind. He could hear her heart racing in his thoughts. The thrill deepened her blush and muddled her unprotected thoughts.

  He drew his thumb along her lips, over her Cupid’s bow to the edges of her smile. “Relax,” he said, his lips lingering above hers.

  She nodded, and her thoughts quieted.

  ***

  Liam brushed Maura’s crimson locks from her eyes as she slept. The flicker of flames from a dying fire in the fireplace bathed her bare porcelain skin in a warm orange glow. Her breath, slow and eased, tickled his chest where she rested her head.

  He pee
red into her thoughts, curious what her unconscious mind created. He dove beneath the sound of her rhythmic heartbeat, beyond the slow inhales and exhales of her breath, and slipped through the black curtain over her thoughts. Her mind, once a cavern of mystery and curiosity, was quiet and dark. A dreamless sleep – the best kind.

  Maura stirred in his arms and then stilled. The remains of her Signet flickered silver in the firelight.

  Liam traced the broken wings of the Phoenix to an aged scar that clipped it of its wings. He pulled the past across her skin to reform the Signet. Red and orange feathers spread along the curve of her ribs, two golden eyes sparkling at the head of the bird. The slash of a knife ran along Liam’s fingertips as time left its mark on her. The Phoenix shuddered at the absence of his magic and disappeared beneath a tangle of scars.

  He drew his fingers up her arm where her first scar stood out amongst the others. A silver sheen shimmered along the black line, which curled around her heart and disappeared deep into her skin. He followed the scar to her shoulder, the faces of her family flashing behind his eyes. Their laughter, voices, and unconditional love filled him with a sense of loss. Her loss. It gnawed at his chest – a painful reminder of his own loss.

  Maura shivered, her face scrunched in discomfort.

  Liam pulled the blankets higher, and she stilled, her body heavy against his. He kissed her forehead and held her closer.

  Chapter Thirty-Four: The Dungeon

  Max parked the car in front of their rental. It was a one-story, perched beside a lake in Missouri. She'd never lived outside of Erewhon. It would take more than a day to grow accustomed to the idea she had to use a key. Not her fingerprint. Her arms to carry her groceries. Not a spell. Everything about her life changed. All because of Beth Hollings. All because she lived. Max squeezed the steering wheel. I did the right thing.

  She stepped out of the car, groceries hanging from her fingers, and walked up the dirt path to the front door. Warm air caressed her, a small reminder of Erewhon. The sun blazed high in the sky, hot on the back of her neck. Loose curls dampened and stuck to her skin. Paul hated the humidity and bugs. Emily loved the tall grass and small animals that hopped along the backyard. Max’s opinion didn't matter to her. As long as her family was safe, she was happy.

  Max balanced the groceries in one hand while fishing for the key with the other. She fumbled with the lock and pushed the door open. Cold air spilled from the home. The faint whoosh of the air conditioner greeted her instead of her bubbly daughter. She dropped the bags and stepped into the dark home.

  Her shoulder brushed against the door. A note she'd failed to notice fluttered to her feet. She picked up the crumpled paper and flattened it in her hands. Three little words, etched in script, filled her heart with dread. You can't hide.

  “Paul!” Max screamed. “Emily!” She ran into the home. Emily’s rabbit lay in front of the muted television. Paul’s open laptop sat abandoned on the kitchen table, his newspaper on the floor. Cabinets hadn't been opened. Drawers hadn't been rifled through. Their keys, wallets, and phones were on the kitchen counter. Max drew a shaky hand across her forehead.

  “Emily!” She flipped her vision. Red auras tangled with yellow and turquoise trails. “Paul!” She followed the path down the back hall into the master bedroom. Color drained from her face. The hair on her arms rose painfully.

  Paul and Emily sat in two chairs. Their arms and legs bound with handcuffs. Their mouths sealed with a shimmering spell. Paul’s eyes widened. Her daughter’s eyes cried.

  “What–”

  A sharp blow to the back of the head sent Max spiraling into darkness.

  ***

  Adrian walked into the dungeon with blood on his shirt. Vincent, another Vampire, locked the door and moved to the right, Adrian on the left. Max watched them, bound to a metal slab, her ankles and wrists tethered with charmed handcuffs. Vincent pulled back a tattered and yellowed cloth from a table. Instruments were aligned on a tray. He handed Adrian an aged brass scissor, longer than regular scissors.

  “What are you doing?” Max stuttered. “Where’s my family? What have you done with my family!”

  Adrian took off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves. He leaned on the table with the scissor in hand. “There is an easy way. And there is a hard way.” With a curt smile, he hung his head. His grasp around the scissor tightened. “Beth Hollings is due to arrive at my party tonight, though, I cannot trust that she will with her identity now revealed. I know you’ve been in contact with Maura Leroux. She’s the one who helped you relocate your family.” He flipped the scissor into his opposite hand. “Willingly tell us where she is now, or we will make you.” Let me make you. He wanted to see her bleed.

  Max quieted, staring at the ceiling.

  Adrian inched closer, whispering. “Every one of my actions is guided by your decision to comply or not.” He straightened and smiled. “As much as I would prefer for you to tell me, I do hope you allow me to have some fun.”

  “Not as much fun as I’ll have.”

  He nodded with pursed lips. “So be it,” he said, and began to cut down the side of her blouse and pants. He motioned to Vincent, who unwrapped a thick needle and thread.

  Adrian nicked her thigh and yanked the dress out from under her.

  Vincent steadied her head in his arms. He brought the needle to her red lips and sowed the thread through. Blood trickled from the puncture wounds. Her arms and legs wiggled in the handcuffs. Adrian smirked. You chose this.

  He ran his fingers over her Mystic Signet at her neck, scowling. “I will give you the chance to change your mind.”

  Vincent tied a hard knot at the end of the thread. Max tested it, unable to pry her lips apart. She whimpered.

  Adrian chuckled. “My apologies, you can’t speak.”

  Vincent sliced a jagged knife across her lips, missing most of the thread. Blood sputtered from behind her mouth. She gagged with a deep breath.

  “Perhaps this is not the road you want to take.” Adrian leaned in. “I can promise you one thing, Maxine, you will not end this night in one piece.”

  She spat the blood at his face.

  He straightened and motioned to Vincent who sealed her raw lips with thread again.

  Adrian fingered through an array of medieval instruments along the wood table. Probes. A silver rod scattered with sharp blades. A leather rope with talons of glass and metal shards. A large pair of rusted pliers. His touch froze on a wide blade with serrated edges. Blood from his last victim crusted the dagger’s teeth. He dragged a finger down its length and curled it in his fist. He spun around, the knife lodged between two of Max’s ribs.

  She stiffened beneath his fingers, wet with her warm blood. Her aura seeped into his pores, a mixture of florals and fresh water. The chill of water tumbled down his arm. He quivered. Her invisible touch invaded his body. He thrust the blade upward. Scream. “Tell me where she is.” He dug the blade in deeper. Scream. “Comply and this will all be over.” I want to feel your scream.

  Adrian yanked the dagger out. A crack and a gush of blood escaped the gash. He flung the blade into the corner and rummaged through other instruments. His fingers curled around a steel mallet. He walked to her feet struggling against the cuffs. “I will break every bone in your body.” He swung. An audible crack echoed in the room. He moved to her other foot. With a single swing, the same crack echoed.

  Adrian dragged the mallet along the ground, Max’s blood trailing behind it. He stood at her side. She panted, the thread along her lips matted with tears. Droplets of sweat dotted her chest and forehead. Thick blood oozed from her side. He closed his eyes and relished the moment. Her blood. Her pain. His power. Satisfaction surged in his veins.

  He raised the mallet over his head and brought it down over her rib cage. Blood spewed from behind her mutilated lips. She panted heavily, grunting. Scream. “Where is she?” His fingers tightened around the handle. Scream for me. He raised the mallet again. “Where is she!” He
brought it down harder, faster. A sickening wet crack echoed in the stinging silence.

  Max stilled.

  Adrian tossed the mallet aside. “Bring an Elixir to heal her,” he said to Vincent. “Then we’ll break her again until she tells us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Followed

  In a tangle of sheets and abandoned clothes, Maura laid awake after hearing Kyle’s alarm from the next room. She traced Liam’s tattoos on his arm. She followed thick lines into the gentle curves of several black and white flowers. They blossomed and filled with color.

  She flipped over within his hold to face his sleeping form. His bangs had fallen over his eyes, and she brushed them away, lingering over his cheeks. She smiled, running her thumb over a small scar that cut into his eyebrow. Using her clairvoyance, she discovered he’d run into a door handle while playing tag with his cousins.

  Maura moved to his shoulder where a broad scar was. She traced the thick, pink line until the memory of that day played behind her eyelids. Liam had been an avid archer. His sister, never handling a bow and arrow in her life, watched him. While Liam retrieved his silver tipped bows from the woods, she’d misfired and hit him.

  Her hand fell to his bare chest. The profound and slow thump of his heart and relaxed breathing vibrated against her palm. She fought back tears, wishing she could give him more time. Tears turned to cries, which threatened to turn to screams. She curled into herself to muffle the sounds.

  Adrian will kill him. Maura sucked him into this mess. Even if Liam stayed behind tonight, Adrian was still always one step away from finding him.

  The tears soon faded into stutters.

  Maura leaned forward and kissed Liam’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.” She slipped from the bed, threw on her oversized shirt, and walked down the sunlit hallway.

  Kyle shuffled through the living room toward the kitchen.

  “How was your night?” he asked, sleep still thick in his voice, as he made coffee.

 

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