Rise of a Phoenix (The Nix Series Book 3)

by Shannon Mayer

  Killian tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Tokyo makes sense. And except for Dubai, the others are all places Genzo’s Yakuza were working into, as far as my contacts knew. Shaitan . . . that’s the name your brother mentioned.”

  That was the thing, Shaitan’s name had come up twice now in matter of a few hours. I highly doubted it was a coincidence. I tapped my finger on the final word.

  “What about the other name? Brikoff?”

  Killian shrugged. “Russian mobster. Very small potatoes. Mostly works in liquor, and last I heard, had all of ten men working with him. He might have had something to do with Genzo, maybe as a supplier but nothing else significant.”

  Still, that name stuck out to me as much as Shaitan’s, and I tapped my pencil on it, finally circling the name. “He’s important. I just don’t know how.”

  “Then perhaps I need to make a call. I’ve spoken with him before. He’ll talk to me,” Killian said.

  I frowned at the single page, circling Brikoff’s name over and over. “Tell me about him, anything, even if you don’t think it would be something that would be of importance.”

  Killian took a breath and seemed to gather his thoughts before he went into it. “He’s an abnormal, and like a large percentage of Russians, he is talented with metal, able to bend it to whatever he sees in his mind. He started out life as a blacksmith, making high-end replica swords and other weapons in between shoeing horses.”

  I frowned and Dinah shivered. I put a hand on her. “Dinah, talk to me.”

  “I don’t know if I can talk about this,” she said softly. “He . . . made my parts.”

  I whipped my head sideways to look at Killian to see his eyes fly wide open. “Brikoff made the gun?”

  “Yes,” she said. “He can . . . imbue metal with power.”

  I wondered if Brikoff had made Linx as well. “Can anyone else work metal like him?”

  “Not that I know of,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure exactly how Brikoff would play into things. I only knew that he was a key here. And that I had to figure out where he fit. Damn it, one more puzzle piece.

  Abe shoved his nose forward under my arm as I flipped the diary to the first page. I skimmed the words, looking for something that jumped out. This was the first chance I’d had to so much as look at the words my sister had written so many years ago. Her inner thoughts, her secrets she shared with no one.

  The first half of the journal was Bianca’s day-to-day, who she met with, what tasks our father gave her. And then the entries began to change about three months before her death. She started seeing someone.

  “This can’t be right,” I said, flipping the pages faster. All thoughts of Brikoff and how he’d made Dinah fled from my mind.

  “What is it?” Killian asked.

  “Bianca was seeing someone before she died.” I kept skimming, disbelief propelling me through the pages.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Killian asked.

  I looked up from the pages, horror filling me because what I was reading was in her own hand, and yet I still could barely believe it.

  “She was seeing a man named Strike.”

  “Not exactly a gentle name but—”

  “No,” I cut him off, “he is my father’s third guardian from Hell, and she was fucking him.”

  5

  Bear

  My eyes were gummed together with sleepy dirt and my nose felt like it was full of snot that had been dry for days. Had I been sick? Distantly I recalled writing a letter in crayon on a plane, a letter that told me who I was, and that my mother loved me, and that my grandfather was evil. That had been in case I lost my memory to my uncle Tommy. But that . . . that was all a long time ago. I couldn’t remember anything else more recent than that for a moment except for pain and . . . heat like fire. Why was I thinking of fire? And my dad . . . I was sure I’d seen him, that he’d walked toward me, that maybe had he crouched down to me even? My heart leapt at the thought of him being alive, of him somehow having come back to my life like my mom had.

  I groaned as I tried to move. My limbs were stiff and it took me a moment to take in the sensations around me, the sounds and smells that were unfamiliar, the brush of something against my skin.

  A light, incredibly soft blanket was on my body, and I lay on something equally soft that held me in a bit of a cocoon.

  “Kid, you awake?”

  I lifted a hand to rub at my eyes, dislodging the gunk enough that I could open one of them. Rooster leaned over me. Bodyguard, belonged to my grandfather. My grandfather had tossed me aside, thinking I was dying. That I was no longer useful. His brown eyes were gentle, though, and I clung to that image.

  Apparently, I’d made it through. I scrubbed at my eyes squinting against the grit that fell away.

  “Where are we?” I asked, my voice hoarse and raspy

  “Well, you got your wish. You’re free of your grandfather.” He grunted and sat beside me, the chair creaking under his weight, groaning as if it were going to give way. He wasn’t fat, but he was big, pretty much solid muscle.

  I pushed up to my elbows. “What happened? Why are you still with me?”

  “You were dying, kid, and I . . . I tried to help you.” He shrugged and looked away. “Romano shot me, and then pushed us both out of the car. No doubt he thought the desert would finish us off. Sometimes his ego gets the better of him.”

  If my eyes could have bugged out, they would have, but I didn’t have the energy even for that. “But we’re both alive.”

  He shrugged again. “Both of us are abnormal, kid. It’s going to take a lot more than a single bullet to kill either of us. He forgets that because he thinks everyone is disposable, because he himself can’t be killed.”

  I rubbed at my face, knocking off the last of the crud on my eyes. We seemed to be inside a large square tent made of a light khaki material held up on posts in four corners, with a peaked roof. Outside there was a quiet nicker of horses and the stamp of hooves. If not for the sand and rugs on the floor, it was almost like being back on the ranch.

  “I’ve got to find my mother,” I said.

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” He twisted around and produced a cell phone from his back pocket. “Here. You can call her. See if she can come get you. Think you can keep her from killing me while you’re at it?” He rubbed at his neck with one hand as if he were imagining a noose or something.

  The fear in his voice was heavy and I knew why. My mother was the Phoenix and was very worth being afraid of, from what I understood. She’d been the boogeyman for the abnormal world long before I’d been born. I wasn’t afraid of her, of course, but that was different. I was her son and I knew she loved me. Unless she thought I really hated her. My heart gave a funny bump inside my chest as if it were trying to get out. The last time I’d seen her, I’d told her I hated her. I’d done it to save both her and me in the moment, but would she understand?

  I swallowed hard, trying to push the new fear aside. “You tried to save me. She won’t kill you.” I took the phone and hit the power button. I had to believe she would come for me still. “She was with Killian the last time I saw her. Do you think they might still be together?”

  Rooster scratched at his chin and gave a small nod. “If they’re both still alive, yeah. I wouldn’t put my money on Killian—slick Irish prick that he is—but your mom should be alive still.”

  My throat tightened as an image of my mother laid out, bleeding, not breathing, raced through my mind. I could see it all too easily, but once more, I pushed the awful thoughts away, not wanting to think about that possibility. I stared at the small screen, dredging up the last number I remembered, the one I’d seen flash on Killian’s phone when he’d handed it to me to talk to my mom. Carefully I pushed the buttons and hit call.

  The phone rang twice and then someone picked up.

  “Who is this?” a voice growled.

  I recognized him right away. “Uncle Tommy? Why do you have my
mom’s phone?”

  “Holy shit, Bear? Where are you? Are you with Romano?” His voice lowered into a whisper.

  “No, he threw me from the car. I think he thinks I’m dead.” I shivered and clutched the sheet around me. “Where are you?”

  “I’m going to come get you. I’ll put a tracer on the call, okay? Don’t hang up.”

  I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “You got out of the jail okay, then?”

  “Your mom pulled me out. Even healed up my eyes,” he said softly.

  Warmth spread through my chest. Of course she did. She might seem tough to everyone else, but I knew her and she would never leave him there if she could help.

  “The tracer is on, don’t hang up.” Tommy repeated his instructions. “Is Romano close to you?”

  I looked to Rooster and he nodded, waved at me to tell Tommy what I knew.

  “Not far, I think. He was talking about a meeting with Shaitan, though it likely wasn’t a meeting Shaitan wanted,” Rooster said.

  Before I could feed that information through to Tommy, there was a screech on the other end of the line that made the hair on my neck stand up. “Tommy, are you okay?”

  “You motherfucking piece of shit! How dare you steal me from Nix! Your mother was a whore and she should have tossed you in the river the second she shit you out!” A woman’s voice echoed down the line as Tommy tried to shush her.

  “Listen, you are part of the equation. You are the one meant to kill Romano. He’ll never expect me to shoot him with you.”

  “I did shoot him, you idiot! Phoenix shot him in the jail with me!” she screeched, and I just stared at the phone. What had Uncle Tommy stolen from my mom besides the phone? And why? Why wouldn’t he just help her find me, help her deal with my grandfather?

  “Shut up!” Tommy roared, and then the woman’s voice was muffled like he’d put his hand over her mouth. “Kid,” he breathed hard into the phone, “I’ve got your coordinates. I’ll be there as quick I can, just sit tight and stay out of trouble.”

  And then he hung up. I stared at the phone. “I don’t think he’s going to make it through this.”

  Rooster nodded. “He thinks he can take out the big man on his own. That’s not smart. Stealing one of your mom’s guns ain’t too bright either. They don’t like other people.”

  I blinked up at him. “My mom’s guns . . . are people?”

  “Nah, but they can talk. And that was one of them you heard. Eleanor, I think.” He tipped his head toward the phone.

  I didn’t know how to react to that. I stared at the phone. “I don’t have any other number for my mom.”

  Rooster held out his hand but I didn’t give him the phone. He rolled his eyes. “Kid, I’m not taking it from you. You got nothing to put it in.” He laughed at me, his head shaking. Almost like we were friends.

  I looked down at my body and the sheet over me. I was naked under it except for a thin pair of shorts, no pockets. But the shorts weren’t even mine. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Burnt off as far as I could see when I came to. You got a nasty sunburn on your ass while you were at it.” He laughed again, and I didn’t want to laugh with him because he’d been one of my jailers. But for now, we were on the same side, and I let the laughter flow, slowly at first and as rough. All was good until I remembered where the flames had come from exactly.

  I choked on the laughter and stared at my hands. “The fire is in me, isn’t it?”

  “Well, you are an abnormal, kid.” Rooster leaned back in his chair. “Nothing to be afraid of. You just learn to use what you’ve got to survive. And considering who your family is, that’s going to be an important tool. You’ll outlive a lot of people you know.”

  I looked at him. “You never hated me, did you?”

  His eyes slid to half-mast. “Nope. You were just a job. You don’t hate your jobs. You take care of them; see them through to the end. I’ll do right by you yet, kid.” He rubbed a big knuckle over his even bigger nose.

  I slid my legs around, setting my feet onto a deep red and gold woven rug. “I’m guessing this isn’t your tent then.”

  “Nope. Belongs to a desert sheikh. Name of Shaitan,” Rooster said. “Scary dude, but he took to you like a man takes to a puss—I mean, he took to you right away. I didn’t have much choice and knew that we were going to need some help to get out of here alive. Just play it cool with him and I think we’ll get through this.”

  I liked that Rooster spoke to me like an adult, like I wasn’t just ten years old. Then again, I’d been through a lot in the last six months. I sure didn’t feel like a kid anymore.

  “I thought you said my grandfather was meeting with Shaitan?” Fear spiked through me, but Rooster shushed me.

  “Romano used his last guardian, Strike, to boot Shaitan out of his own home. That’s what I meant by what I said. Shaitan is not our friend, but he isn’t our enemy either. We just have to play it cool. Got it?”

  I stood on wobbly legs and pulled the slippery sheet around my body like a toga. “Got it.”

  Rooster didn’t stop me as I made my way to the flapping doorway and pushed it open to peek out. The sun was brilliant and I was forced to close my eyes.

  “Ahh, I see the young master is awake.” A smooth, cultured voice with a light accent I couldn’t place spoke to me as though we were longtime friends.

  I opened my eyes and blinked to see a man striding toward me, and for a split-second, I wondered if this was who I’d thought was my dad, but no, I’d never mistake the two of them. This man had long black hair that curled at the edge of his shoulders, and wore a well-trimmed beard that came to a neat point. He was lean, his limbs moving with a grace that made me think of the large hunting cats near the ranch, and that image was only accentuated by the loose clothing he wore. Dark pants and top, and he had a scarf around his neck, but I could see a tattoo curling up the side of his throat. It looked like a flame before his movement covered it again.

  “Did you save me?” I asked.

  “No, you saved yourself, young master. You have a name? Your manservant would not tell me. He’s very loyal to you. That’s a good thing to have in this world.” He stopped in front of me, his energy swirling around him so intensely that I almost took a step back.

  My eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Why wouldn’t Rooster have told him my name?

  I dug my toes into the sand. I thought about what Rooster had said, to play it cool.

  “I’m Bear. Thank you for taking us in.”

  He gave me the slightest of bows from the waist, tucking his hand over his middle. “I am Shaitan, the leader of this tribe, young Bear. Anyone who is an enemy of Luca Romano is a friend of mine. In your sleep, you screamed at him that you hated him.” He smiled at me, but I knew there was no true friendship in the gesture. What would he do if he knew I was Luca’s grandson? Kill me most likely, or try to use me the way Luca had tried to use me against my mom.

  “Right,” I mumbled and ducked my head. “I phoned my uncle. He’s coming to get me so you won’t have to keep us here very long.”

  “You phoned someone without my permission?” he snapped and my eyes shot to his.

  He glared down at me.

  I found myself glaring back, my body tensing. “No one said I had to have permission. I don’t belong to you.”

  His lips twitched and his eyes sparkled with humor. “Strong. That’s good. Though, I knew that when I saw your fire.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face, my skin cooling. “You saw . . . my fire?”

  “That is what saved you.” He pushed past me into the tent and I followed, stunned by the change of direction of the conversation.

  “How did it save me? I don’t understand.” I tightened the knot holding my sheet around my body.

  Shaitan turned and raised both eyebrows. “As far as I understand it, you carry the flames of the Phoenix within you. We have other names for that fire, but that is what you would recognize it as, yes?”


  I didn’t recognize what he was saying, but I nodded, my throat tight. “And that flame inside me . . .”

  “Burned off whatever poison was in your system. You might still have died if we had not come across you and your man because the desert is a harsh mistress, but such as it is, you are alive. You have great luck, I think. But again, that comes with the Phoenix.” Shaitan went to a table I’d not noticed before and poured himself a drink. My mouth ached for water and I went over without being invited and poured myself a drink too.

  “Camel milk,” Shaitan said as I took a gulp. “It has great healing properties.”

  I would have drunk filthy water at that point, my body so craved fluids. I gulped the cup down and went for a second, but he put his hand over mine.

  “Not a good idea. You need to let it rest in your belly or you risk bringing it all back up.”

  I took a few steps back and stared at the man who likely held my life in his hands. I hated the feeling that once again, I was forced to trust someone I truly didn’t.

  I stared hard at him. “What do you want from me? I don’t think you saved me out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “Ah, now we are to it. Like a grown man, you get straight to the crux of this.” He sighed and put his cup down. “We hoped that when the Phoenix came, he would be full grown. We did not realize we would find you as a child. In some ways, that is better, as I can train you, mold you. You can help me rule the desert.”

  I swallowed hard but kept my mouth shut.

  He went on. “We know your fire is what is needed to kill Romano and the demon that controls him. They have caused me far too much grief.”

  “That sounds too simple,” Rooster said. “I’ve known the man for many years and a simple fire won’t be enough to take him out.”

  Shaitan turned and looked Rooster over, his body tensing. “You are one of his men?”

  Rooster nodded slowly as if he were realizing the error of his words the same as I was. I didn’t think it was a good idea to admit a connection to Luca Romano. Nothing about this was a good idea.