Phoenix Rising (Maggie Henning & The Realm Book 1)

by Lisa Morgan

  Liam thought about my question for a moment before answering. “I believe they will leave her be. They surely know by now that you were rushed off last night by Michel. The fact that you’ve not returned home or attended school will let the revenants know we are protecting you.”

  “And what’s to stop them from running up in here, all rotten flesh-like, and trying to kill us?”

  My grandfather furrowed his eyebrows at my question, seemingly bothered by my reference to the mindless killers as if they were a cheap Halloween costume. “This estate used to be a church,” he explained.

  “Okay,” I urged him on.

  “The house of worship was torn down over a hundred years ago, but the blessing remained on the land. Revenants cannot walk on consecrated ground.”

  “Consecrated ground? You mean like places where a pastor says God is great and what not?”

  “That is an over simplification, but yes, something like that.”

  I continued, walking to the front of the desk, grandfather’s eyes following me, “How do they get bodies to bring back to life?”

  Liam chuckled at my question, which was kind of insulting. “Surely, child, you don’t believe that cemeteries are the only place where the dead reside?”

  “Well, yeah, actually I did.”

  Liam stood and made his way to a stack of newspapers. Leafing through them, he pulled out one from the middle and examined the front page. Holding it wide with both hands, he turned the paper to face me.

  “Twelve miners found dead in Western Pennsylvania,” I read the headline aloud.

  “Indeed,” Liam spoke, returning the paper to the top of the stack. “Humans die every day, in many ways and places. The revenants can sense death, as it is the root of their survival. We watch the papers for deaths like this,” he stated, gesturing to the headline. “They flock to the areas, often before any person of faith can arrive, and seize the bodies, later transforming them as decomposition begins as soon as the heart stops—”

  “Okay,” I interrupted, “I get that, but if revenants can’t go to churches, how did they meet the evening my father …”

  I broke off, finding myself unable to repeat a story we both already knew.

  Liam saw my distress and took the few short steps to stand in front of me. “That was not a real church. It was but a building with a sign out front. To the average human, it looked like and acted as a church, but it was not.”

  I studied his words. It made sense to me. The creature I’d thought was my mother had never tried to get me to go to any of the churches in town as I grew. I’d always assumed she just didn’t want to endure the whispers or the scrutiny of other people in town.

  I heard Autumn calling my name from the top of the stairs, and I turned toward the sound.

  “You seem to be adjusting,” my grandfather noted, sounding pleased. I nodded my head in agreement.

  “They’re actually pretty cool. I miss Steph, but hanging with a fairy and a witch may be interesting, too.”

  “Indeed,” he agreed, raising his eyebrows before canting his head to the side. “And what of the vampire?”

  I thought of Michel and was shocked that he hadn’t crossed my mind in a while. What did I say to my grandfather? He’s really, really hot, but I’m a little worried about his dental problems and his diet …

  For a second, a picture crossed my mind: My bleeding forehead. Michel licking it like a cat with a bowl of milk. It didn’t matter how gorgeous he was, that would just be weird. I opted to shrug my shoulders in answer. Autumn called for me again, sounding a little less patient.

  My grandfather dismissed me with a smile. “Go. There is much to learn, and Autumn is a witch with great power, more than she even knows yet. If anyone can help you, it will be her.” I nodded my head and turned to leave the room, but paused when Liam spoke again.

  “What is it to be tonight? Potions? Maybe the hidden language of the Old Grimoires?” he asked, taking his seat behind the desk once again and reaching for the quill.

  “Nah,” I answered, my smile growing. “Tonight, it’s a slumber party, all hair and nails and boys.”

  As I left the room and walked to the stairs, I heard the sound of glass shatter and was sure Liam had broken the bottle of ink.

  ***

  I followed Autumn to the closed door of my bedroom. As I reached for the knob, but she grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

  “I …” she stammered. “I mean Seatha and me. We, ah …”

  “What is it?” I asked, seeing the pained look on her face and worrying a little.

  “Well,” she went on, twirling her fingers nervously in her hair, “we’ve never had a sleep over party before. We always wanted to, but, well, we’ve known each other so long that we’re more like sisters. It lost some of its appeal, and …”

  “And what?” I asked, smiling at the witch’s stumbling words.

  “We never really felt like there was anything to celebrate,” she explained. “That is, until now.”

  I was flattered by the confession. My eyes began to get misty, as did hers. “I’m sure we’ll have fun,” I assured, rubbing the hand that held my wrist.

  “I hope you like it,” Autumn pleaded, opening the door for me.

  I was shocked at what I found behind the door, and shocked is putting it mildly. The bed was still there, as was the dresser and nightstand from this morning, but the rest of the room …

  Lights flashed off a disco ball that was suspended from the ceiling, casting rainbows over the walls. Crepe paper streamers were hung haphazardly around the room, as were paper lanterns and glowing stars.

  Wow!

  I marveled as I stepped inside, looking around the room. I could smell the pepperoni pizza in the boxes on the dresser before I ever saw them. The buttery smell of popcorn mixed with the spiciness of the pizza topping was one of the best smells to ever grace my nostrils. Music boomed from a stereo, a small blue screen with words racing across it sat on a stand nearby.

  “Is that?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in surprise.

  Seatha burst out of the bathroom, and I couldn’t contain my laughter at the sight of her. The fairy was wearing a leather jacket, cut in the back so her wings fit through, and an acid washed mini skirt. Neon pink fishnet stockings on her legs matched the fingerless gloves she wore on her hands. A microphone, studded with shiny stones, in her hand, and if her hair had been teased and sprayed any higher she would have required FAA clearance.

  “That’s right, baby,” she sang out like a member of a hair band circa 1988, shrieking the final words, “it’s karaoke!”

  Autumn and I laughed so hard my sides hurt, and I had to grab myself to ease the pain. The fairy pretended to play a guitar and bounced her head up and down, the matted mess of locks not moving at all.

  “This is fantastic!” I squealed, taking Autumn’s hands in my own and jumping up and down with her like we’d just won the lottery.

  “Really?” Seatha asked, turning down the music a little before walking over to join us. “We’ve never—”

  “Me, either,” I interrupted, “but this …” I looked around the room, turning as I went to absorb it all. “This is like … like a dream come true!”

  Both the witch and the fairy glowed proudly at their work. I wasn’t sure how they’d managed to pull all of this off while I was downstairs, but I now had high hopes for a fun-filled evening.

  “Magic,” Seatha joked. “Like Visa, it has its privileges!”

  ***

  We spent the first few hours in a heated karaoke battle. I would never have pictured timid Autumn for a Gaga fan, but she belted out a rendition of Bad Romance that left me and Seatha competing for second place.

  I couldn’t sing, that was something I’d always known, but the pair wouldn’t let me just concede to them. I rummaged through song choices and made it halfway through what Seatha termed “an excruciatingly bad” rendition of Endless Love before they finally allowed me to turn over the microphone to
the fairy, who promptly yelled more than sang her version of Welcome to the Jungle, complete with a well-choreographed performance that left us in a fit of laughter.

  Starving after our vocal battle, we devoured almost all of the two pizzas that had been put on my bed. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten, and I knew it was due to the company I shared it with more than any secret recipe.

  I watched Autumn and Seatha while I ate the last few bites of my slice. Autumn had taken to throwing her extra cheese at the fae, and in retaliation, Seatha flapped her wings so hard the witch’s soda went up her nose. None of their exchange was mean spirited, more like close sisters, which I supposed they sort of were.

  I found myself missing Stephanie. I knew she’d love hanging out with my two new friends. Maybe somewhere down the road, when this whole mess was over…

  Autumn made quick work of the clean-up. With a few spoken words and waves of her hand, the leftover pizza and garbage disappeared.

  “That would have been nice in my bedroom,” I joked. We all laughed, but bitterness crept into my thoughts.

  “What is it?” Seatha asked as Autumn took a seat on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug.

  “It’s just …” I tried to explain, pulling on the duvet. “Nothing.”

  “No, it’s not nothing,” Autumn prodded, reaching out and rubbing my knee. “What’s wrong? Is it indigestion? I could whip up—”

  “No!” Seatha and I both said in unison then laughed a little.

  “I … I miss home,” I admitted after apologizing to Autumn. “All of this is great, don’t misunderstand me. But, I don’t know …”

  “It’s all you ever knew,” Autumn added with understanding. “School, your house. This must be daunting to try to accept.” I nodded my head in agreement.

  “And guys,” Seatha offered, waggling her eyebrows up and down. “Tell us about the guys!”

  “Yeah!” Autumn pressed, sitting up and grabbing her pillow tighter.

  I smiled at their anxiousness about wanting to hear tales of my nonexistent love life in the human world. These two beings, who’d seen and experienced so much that I’d never known about before this morning, wanted me to give them stories about guys?

  “Please?” they both begged. I ran through my memories quick, trying to find one to share with them. I could tell them about Morgan Spencer, who kissed me in the third grade and then told the teacher I’d made him do it. Or I could relay the time when Dan Melendez pelted me with mustard filled balloons.

  “There isn’t anything to tell. I don’t have a boyfriend, never had a real date or anything,” I admitted. Seatha and Autumn looked at me, not attempting to hide the disappointment on their faces. I shrugged my shoulders, feeling bad that I was letting them down.

  Standing up, Seatha huffed, “Fine, I’ll tell you one of my tales.”

  Autumn smiled widely, swatting my shoulder and scooting closer to the end of the bed in anticipation. “This should be good!”

  “Go for it,” I encouraged my fairy friend.

  “Okay,” Seatha began, seeming to enjoy the spotlight. “This one time, I was on a journey by boat to America. I didn’t really know anyone except this guy, a fairy, that everyone expected me to marry, but he was a real tool. You know the type—all about himself and his station. I really didn’t want to marry him.

  “So one night, feeling all sorts of trapped, I took a little walk under the stars to clear my head, wishing I could figure out a way to avoid marrying the jerk. That’s when this drop dead hot guy walked up to me. He had blond, messy hair, and he sort of teased me, but not in a mean way, in a flirting way. He and I talked and talked for hours.”

  “Then what?” Autumn asked, enthralled with the story.

  “Well,” Seatha went on. “I invited him to join me and my companions for dinner. The guy I was supposed to marry treated him awful, just a real ass, you know? But the guy I’d met, he acted like it was nothing.

  “Later that evening after dinner, I was told not to see the guy ever again.”

  “Did you?” I asked, now also mesmerized by Seatha’s tale.

  She nodded her head and walked toward us, her voice lower, like she was sharing a secret. “We snuck off that very night, had a few drinks and danced, and then spent hours in each other’s arms.”

  Autumn fanned her face with her hand and begged to hear the rest. The fairy went on, but sadness tainted her words.

  “There was a terrible accident and people, humans and fae alike, were dying. It was total chaos. The hot guy saved me, but in doing so, he died.” Seatha wiped at a tear that hung on her lashes. “I’ll … I’ll never forget him.”

  “Oh,” Autumn breathed out, her eyes wet with tears. “Seatha, I’m so sorry, honey. I’d never heard you speak about him. Your heart must be broken! How do you go on without—”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted. There was something strangely familiar about the fairy’s love story. “You were traveling to the United States, on a boat, and met this guy who your family didn’t like, and he died saving you?”

  Seatha nodded as she took a seat on the bed.

  “Seatha,” I laughed openly, much to Autumn’s despair. “That didn’t happen! That’s the plotline to the movie Titanic!”

  Without warning, Autumn whipped her pillow at Seatha as the fairy laughed out loud in Autumn’s face. I grabbed a pillow as well, and the three of us began smacking each other mercilessly.

  “Come on!” Seatha laughed back, trying to block our attack with her hands. “It was a great film!”

  We went on laughing and attacking until a knock came from the door.

  “Thank the Gods,” Seatha said of her reprieve, sliding off the bed to answer the door. She opened it, and my heart skipped a few beats. Michel stood outside the room, his arms folded over his shirtless chest, his hair loose over his shoulders.

  “Can we help you?” Seatha asked, scowling.

  “I’m offended, fairy,” Michel answered. “A party I wasn’t invited to? Not very gracious of you.”

  Autumn and I made our way to stand behind Seatha. “Sorry, Vampire, girl’s only tonight.”

  I looked at Michel and found his eyes lingering on me. The silver hints in the emerald of his eyes danced as the mirror ball spun around the room. I took a risk and ran my eyes down his bare chest. His muscles were really well-defined now that I was taking inventory of him without the confines of his shirt. Feeling guilty, I shot my eyes back up to his face. He was smiling wickedly at me, something that didn’t go unnoticed by my two party mates.

  Michel quipped at Seatha, not taking his eyes off of me. “Too bad … I do a really great French braid.”

  Turning around, Michel strode away. I couldn’t help but note the view was pretty good from where I was standing.

  Seatha shut the door and leaned against it, squinting her eyes and looking at me carefully. I felt a little uneasy and spared a glance at Autumn. Her mouth was agape and her eyes huge, taking me in.

  “What?” I asked, turning around. I tried to walk casually as I made my way back to the bed and decided to get the subject changed quickly. “Let’s hear a real story, Seath.”

  The fae shook her head and walked toward me, Autumn right on her heels. “Oh no you don’t,” she said as she wiggled her finger at me.

  “What?” I asked again, feeling heat rising in my cheeks, and I knew both of them could see it.

  Autumn pushed past the fairy and flopped on the bed next to me, her bunny slippers wiggling free of her feet. “Spill it,” she ordered as Seatha sat Indian-style on the floor.

  “Spill what?” I was avoiding their looks by examining my nails. Maybe they did need polish …

  “You like him,” Autumn declared.

  “Don’t be silly.” I shrugged, standing up to grab a pink color for my fingers, and worked twice as hard to avoid their stares.

  “You do!” Seatha’s voice raised, pointing at me. “You have the hots for Michel!”

  “That
’s just crazy. I don’t have the hots for him,” I denied, rolling the small bottle labeled Cotton Candy between my hands.

  “Are you blind?” I heard Autumn ask sarcastically. “You’d have to be to not see that one as good looking.”

  “I mean,” I continued, sitting and opening the bottle, streaking my fingers with the paint, “he’s good looking, sure, but hello? Doesn’t he have, like, an eating disorder?”

  The girls looked confused by my choice of words, trying to figure out what I was talking about.

  “He’s a vampire,” I said in explanation.

  “So?” Seatha asked as if what type of being Michel was didn’t make a difference.

  I tried to act more casual than I felt. “Doesn’t that mean he drinks blood?”

  “Of course he does,” Autumn responded nonchalantly.

  “Admittedly, I am new to the way your world works, and I know even less about anatomy, but in creatures like me, we kind of need our blood to live.”

  “Sure you do,” Seatha agreed, standing up and making her way to the light switch, dimming the room to all light except the disco ball and the stars that hung overhead. “All living things have some type of fluid that sustains them. Plants and trees need sunlight and water. I don’t see your point.”

  “My point?” I asked, confused. “My point is that no matter how fabulously good looking Michel is, I can’t be interested in a guy who’s going to spend every minute with me wondering if he should ask for a glass or drink straight from the tap.”

  Seatha and Autumn looked at me for a few seconds, and then together, broke out in uproarious laughter.

  “Straight from the tap!” Seatha roared. “That’s hysterical!”

  “Maybe he needs a straw?” Autumn jested with her.

  “What the hell is so funny?” I demanded, which only worked to make my two friends laugh harder. Autumn gained some semblance of composure first.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you know about vampires?”

  I was getting aggravated. It’d been such a fun night until this happened. Now it was ruined.