Phoenix Reborn
Page 11
Of course. He was in the tent. Hiding, waiting for her to return, knowing that she would likely come for her gear. She wished that she could somehow transmit the message to Hawke: I know where he is. But then, with his eyes, maybe he could see it already, even from the sky.
Ashling stood on one side of the crumbling stone wall, waiting for a sign of movement inside the nylon structure, but saw nothing. As she focused, though, she could hear her enemy breathing, her ears even managing to pick up the sound of his heart beating percussively in his chest. And she knew that she had only one option, with or without Hawke and Ranach’s blessing.
Positioning herself beyond the broken-down frame of an old window, she summoned another fireball, the size of a tennis ball, to her right hand, and watched it rotate slowly over her palm. This would be her only chance to surprise him, and the seconds that followed would determine whether she won the coming battle or lost it.
Rapidly she spun around, throwing the ball of flame towards the tent with all her might. She twisted again, pressing her back to the crumbling wall as she peered around, seeing the flames engulfing the flimsy structure. Within seconds, only the metal frame stood, the nylon disappeared, turned to black ash which sifted through the air. And inside, the greasy-haired man, easing out, his body hunched as he attempted to avoid the raining embers that surrounded him.
“Show yourself,” he muttered. “Let me see you, now that you’ve come into your skills.”
“I’m no fool,” Ashling replied, her voice raised. “I’m not going to make myself a target for you.”
“So, what? Did you come here to kill me then, Fire Girl?”
The man sounded pathetic now, and Ashling’s heart was torn in spite of herself. She’d never hurt anyone deliberately, and memories of the experience from her youth came surging back, reminding her what it had felt like to do someone harm. No part of her wanted to destroy him, regardless of his own malice.
“I only want you to leave me alone,” she said. “I haven’t done anything to you or anyone else.”
“You will. Your kind always does.”
With a deep inhale she stepped out from behind the wall, revealing herself. He stood before her, this time without a knife. There was no gun, even; just a man. Defenceless, injured, his arm in a home-made sling.
“What do you know of my kind?” she asked.
“I was there, when your father hurt people. I know what he did.”
“You knew him?”
“Only a little. He had a temper on him. As you do.”
He was right, of course. Twice she’d lost control and her fire had gotten the better of her. But she was older now, and wiser.
“I have learned to control it,” she said.
“Have you? And what if I told you that I will hurt that movie star boy toy of yours? What if I told you that I’ll destroy him? I’ll tell everyone what he is. Would you hurt me then?”
“If you do that, you reveal what you are as well,” she said. But the Vulture shifter was pushing her — causing her to grow irritated with the threat against Hawke. The young man’s welfare was her Achilles heel; there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect him.
“Do I look like a man with something to lose?” the man said. With that, he stepped towards her, his motions jerky and unpredictable. He moved like someone who was off kilter, clumsy.
“Everyone has something to lose. Everyone has life in them.”
“I thrive on death. My only joy in life comes with the end of others’ lives. I have no interest in your notions of life’s pleasures. But I would enjoy ruining that pretty boy of yours.”
Ashling felt the fire well up within her, even as a bird of prey cried out overhead, warning her against herself.
“You will do no such thing,” she said. She had ceased to care about her own life, her own happiness. No one would ruin what Hawke was. And certainly not this worthless waste of skin. In both hands now were spheres of flame, this time larger than last. She held them steady as they rotated above her palms.
“So you prove me right,” said the infuriating shifter before her. “You would kill me out of rage. You are a danger to our kind.”
“I would kill you to defend someone I care about — someone I love,” she said. “In a second, just as anyone would do. So don’t force me.”
But Ranach had been right; he wasn’t a reasonable man. In a flash he’d shifted into his ugly Vulture form, its wrinkled red face perched atop a neck which bent twice in a twisted S-curve, giving the impression of two separate humps.
Ashling held the fire steady, waiting to see what he might do: did he intend to fly, to attempt escape?
His wings spread slowly, stretching wide to cast a dark shadow on the ground before him. And then her question was answered. No, not escape. He intended to hurt her. The Vulture lunged at her, opening his beak wide as he began to spew acidic bile in her direction.
Ashling leapt to the side, avoiding the stream even as it hit the leaves that had lain under her feet a moment earlier. The acid ate at them, disintegrating them immediately, as it would have done to her flesh.
She flung a fireball which hit the ground before him, causing a small tower of flame to shoot up. Then another, also narrowly missing as he wrenched his body from side to side in deft, albeit awkward, avoidance.
He could no longer speak, of course, but still, she felt him challenge her, deriving his own internal satisfaction from the idea that he was controlling her; that he held the power.
No. She wouldn’t allow it. This maniac didn’t hold dominion over her.
He had no interest in Hawke. She knew that now. He was only using the Golden Eagle shifter as another weapon against Ashling. It was her that he wanted dead — and after that, he would leave. Hawke and Woodland Creek could exist in peace, as long as the Vulture got his wish.
And so, surrendering, she put her hands to her sides.
“I won’t do it,” she said. “If you want to burn me with your disgusting acid, go ahead,” she said. “I will not kill you to prove you right. I will not become what you predict. I’m not a murderer. And I control my own actions.”
She was frightened of death. But inside her, pure joy. At last, she knew that she had nothing else to fear. She was the commander of her body, of her own destiny. And never again would she fear the world or its inhabitants. Never again would she fear herself.
Seeing that she’d rendered herself vulnerable, the vulture threw open his wings, preparing for another attack.
But he didn’t see the Eagle as it shot from the sky, a missile on a rapid path to collide with the Vulture from above. As it hit, the Vulture smashed to the ground with a brutal force. He twisted his head, trying to spew his weapon at Hawke, but the Eagle had his talons around the other bird’s long throat, twisting it, squeezing the life out of him.
“Hawke,” cried Ashling. “Don’t. Please don’t kill him.”
He wanted to, though. With everything in him, the Golden Eagle shifter wanted to tear the creature’s head off, to leave him to rot in the woods. This…thing…had threatened the woman he’d grown to adore. The most innocent, kindest woman he’d ever known. This was a creature of pure evil, of cruelty and malice. He had no place in this world.
He twisted again, feeling the Vulture’s bones begin to give way under his grasp.
“Stop,” said a commanding voice from within the woods.
Ranach stepped out, approaching the two birds, who were still bound in battle. He extended his right hand towards them, unafraid. Mumbling words that Ashling didn’t understand as he pressed his fingertips towards the Vulture’s face.
A moment later, Hawke released the creature as though he himself were under Ranach’s spell, allowing the other shifter to shake its ugly head before flying off, unsteady and awkward, seemingly oblivious to his injuries.
“What happened?” asked Ashling, stepping towards Hawke. “Why is he leaving?”
“You’re safe now,” Ranach said, even as Hawke
shifted, his breath heavy in his chest.
“Are you all right?” Ashling asked, draping him in her jacket.
“I don’t know,” said Hawke. “I can’t…remember…”
“I set a spell on the Vulture,” said Ranach. “He will go back to his home, away from here. He will forget this place exists, and that you do, Ashling. He will forget what you are, if not what he is.”
“Has Hawke forgotten?” she asked, staring at the man who’d taken possession of her heart.
“No,” Hawke said, turning to her, his eyes seeming to clear. “I — for a moment I was confused, like something was clouding my mind. But I could never forget what you mean to me. Never.”
“Hawke will be just fine. And I’ll leave you two alone,” said Ranach, seeing the way that the two young people were looking at one another. He handed the Eagle shifter a bag that he’d been transporting. “Here are some clothes, young man. I wish you all the best. I think you’ll find at last that your lives can start. Together, I hope.”
He raised his right eyebrow, inquisitive, but not seeking a verbal answer.
Ashling turned to him. “Thank you, Ranach,” she said, embracing him hard. “For everything you’ve done. It’s inadequate to try and put it into simple words.”
“I’ve done all sorts of things, all of them selfish. If I hadn’t, after all, I wouldn’t have had you around all these years. Much as I hate to lose you, Ashling, I cannot tell you what joy I derive from seeing you happy.”
He smiled warmly and turned away. Ashling and Hawke watched him go, and with each step the wizard seemed to fade until he’d disappeared entirely into the woods.
“It’s true,” said Ashling, turning back to Hawke. “All my life he and others have looked out for me, and I didn’t even know it; I didn’t fully appreciate it. I’m the most fortunate woman who ever lived, I think.”
“You’ve deserved to be protected, Ashling.” Hawke took a step towards her, a hand going to her waist. “And I wish that I could have done more all these years, instead of trying to conceal from you what I was — what I am.”
“Perfect, you mean?” She smiled up at him.
He laughed. “Hardly. But you and I are cut from the same cloth. I only wish you’d always known, as I did, how entwined our fates were.”
“I don’t resent you for it, you know. I understand. You were protecting me as well as yourself, just as Ranach was. From people like that shifter. And from myself.”
“I think you’ll find that the town of Woodland Creek looks quite different to your eyes, now that you know about our kind. You’ll see how well you fit in.”
“In Woodland Creek,” she said. “And you…in New York.”
“New York? Maybe not. Do you remember when you asked me what might make me stay?” he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Yes.”
“Do you remember my answer?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
16
New York City was everything Ashling had expected and more: giant skyscrapers, a perpetually frenetic pace, people running about as though their hair were on fire.
Among its inhabitants she didn’t see the shifter population that she was now aware of in Woodland Creek. It seemed that shifters stayed away from Manhattan.
But she would always recall the day when Hawke had taken her around her hometown and pointed out how many inhabited the streets where she roamed so frequently.
“Over there, window-shopping,” he’d said.
Ashling had looked over to see a person — one that she’d always assumed was normal — and now she could see. The differences, the subtle variation in movement, in alertness.
In the days that followed, when she and Hawke weren’t staying in bed late to make love or to talk about their future together, they wandered the streets. The Demon Run, an autumn tradition in the town, was in full swing by now. So occasionally a costumed inhabitant would zip past them, dressed in a menacing mask.
But no demons frightened Ashling now. She was at peace. It felt at times as though she’d been issued a new life, offered a rebirth of sorts in a body that finally made sense. She was powerful, strong and all the more so for the man who stood by her side. The man who offered her love without condition.
And now they were in his New York apartment, packing up his things.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “This is your home.”
Hawke turned to her. “You’re my home,” he said, grabbing her by the waist as she let out a surprised yelp. “I’ll go where you are. I have no attachment to an apartment that costs far too much money. Besides, in Woodland Creek I can fly. Here I worry that I’ll get shot for less.”
“Well, I’m happy if you are. You know that,” she said, giving him quiet pecks on the cheek. “But it seems odd for a movie star to take up residence in such a small town.”
“All the clever movie stars do it. Especially the shifters.”
“There are other shifter stars?”
Hawke leaned in and whispered something in her ear, causing her eyes to go wide.
“Really? And her husband?”
Hawke nodded knowingly.
“Well, well,” said Ashling. “Isn’t that interesting.”
“Not nearly as interesting as you. Now tell me again why you’re not naked?”
“Because you told me someone’s coming over and in my experience, greeting guests while nude is considered gauche.”
“Oh, right. Damn, I hate societal restrictions.”
Just then, the buzzer for the building’s front door sounded. Hawke sprang over and pressed the button, saying, “Come on up,” before the person on the other end was able to speak.
“So you’re not going to tell me what kind of pizza we’re getting?”
“Nope.”
“Fine, then.” Ashling continued milling around, looking for items that she could pack up. “Is this…” she began, but when she turned she saw that Hawke was occupied.
He’d opened the apartment’s door. In its frame stood a man, wearing a suit and tie. He handed Hawke a small white envelope.
“Here’s what you asked for,” he said.
“Thanks, Mike. For everything.”
“No problem. I hope it helps.”
The man turned and left without ceremony, and Hawke closed the door.
“Who was that?” asked Ashling.
“A friend,” said Hawke. “He brought us something.”
“I can see that. Are you going to open it?”
“Well, it’s really for you.” He handed it to her.
Ashling opened it slowly. It wasn’t an engagement ring; of that she was certain. So why the secrecy?
Inside she found folded a sheet of paper, inscribed with the words:
Matthew and Evangeline Jones
106 Dufferin Crescent
Bradbury, California.
“Is this — is this what I think it is?” Ashling asked.
Hawke nodded, apprehension engraved on his face. “Don’t be angry with me,” he said. “I thought you should know. You never have to contact them, if you don’t want to.”
Ashling put the envelope down and laid her hands on Hawke’s face.
“I’m not angry. And I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if I should ever go to them. But thank you for giving me the choice.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her. “As for the future — I see a farm, with sprawling fields. And I see frequent reports of fiery comet sightings above Woodland Creek.”
“Oddly enough, the fiery comet will always be accompanied by a beautiful Golden Eagle.”
“A Golden Eagle who loves that comet more than anything in the world.”
THE WOODLAND CREEK SERIES
Woodland Creek Series.
30 Authors. 30 Shifter Stories.
One Epic Release Day.
www.woodlandcreekseries.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carina Wilder the
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sought by the Alphas, Seeking her Mates, Wolf Rock Shifters and The Seekers series. Her latest project is called Plenty of Shift, a Choose Your Own Romance Paranormal series.
@carinawriter
carina.wilder
www.carinawilder.com
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The Sought by the Alphas serial, which tells the epic story of Gwynne and her mates:
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Encounters
Rituals
Trial By Fire
Kinship
Dragon Queen
Seeking Her Mates Box Set: Complete Set (Five Books)
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Torn
Escape
Dragon Flight
Loyalty
Dragon Wars
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Illusions
Sorceress
The Wolf Rock Shifters Series (these are complete stories and can be read out of order):
Winning the Alpha
Bearing Up in Wolf Rock
The Right to a Bear’s Arms
To Lie With Lions
Alpha’s Hunt
The Billionaires and Curves Serial:
Billionaires and Curves (Taken With You) Trilogy
Taken With You
Crazy About You
The Way to You
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11