Hell's Phoenix

by Gracen Miller

  Zen, she hoped he could hear her telepathy inside the Demon Lock. I need my gun. She caught his gaze and nodded toward Micah. It’s over there, behind Micah, on the floor.

  No expression acknowledged her request. The first clue that he heard her was the dime-size sphere that surfaced around the pistol. The weapon disappeared and materialized into her right hand.

  As Micah and Nix stepped through the rip, she placed the barrel of her weapon against her temple.

  “He might not have the balls to kill me, but I sure as hell have the nerve to pull the trigger.” She flipped the switch and clarified her action. “Safety’s off.”

  Nix halted Micah with a forearm to his chest. “She’s serious, Micah.”

  Zen, figure out how to get us the fuck out of here or I will pull the trigger.

  “She’s left-handed,” Micah argued. “The pistol is in her right hand.”

  “I shoot as well with my right as I do my left hand. Ask Nix.”

  Micah shot Nix a questioning glance. Nix nodded. “Zenny’s made sure she is proficient with both hands.”

  Found the Demon Lock, Zen’s voice coiled through her mind. The ball in his hand struck the floor and wood spewed outward like a mini-bomb had gone off underneath. In a burst of rainbows, Zen teleported them before either man could try to stop them.

  A moment later, they arrived at her rental home and he dropped her in a chair. Madison slumped into the seat and breathed through the violent protest of her stomach. Zen’s teleport amplified her dizziness.

  “Oh, thank God,” Alessa spoke from somewhere in the room. Madison focused on regulating her breathing as Zen extracted the gun from her tingling fingers. “I was afraid Zen wouldn’t get there in time. Are you okay?”

  “No.” She took a deep breath. “Zen tells me my eyes have altered.”

  “Holy hell.” Petra gaped. “Why are her eyes pink and pupils red? Only a King’s eyes are that color.” She shot a nervous glance at Zen, whose expression remained pensive.

  He shrugged, the creases at the corners of his eyes delineating his ambiguity. Zen not having answers alarmed Madison.

  “Where’s Amos?” Madison scanned the room.

  “I told him to stay in the video room until I called for him.”

  Madison could only guess he’d given those instructions telepathically or before he rescued her. A low-grade throb emerged at her temples.

  “I feel a weird urge to bow down to you.” Petra’s foot tapped nervously against the floor and she edged away from Madison.

  “You always bow to my dictates, Petra.” No point in spewing unnecessary drama.

  “Not like this. You’re succubus, but I’ve never seen a succubus wear pink eyes before. It’s gotta be significant.” Petra crossed her arms over her chest and gawked. “I know eye color has a direct bearing upon power. The red pupils I assume indicate your status as Queen, but the pink?” She shook her head. “I have no idea. The reverence I’m suddenly feeling, I think it means you’re a really powerful succubus.”

  “Could Nix’s freaky powers have something to do with the freaky peepers, Zen?” Madison rubbed her temples and winced.

  “No.” He held her stare. “Only the demon inside you can emerge, nothing more.”

  She sighed. “After all this time trying to avoid my demon and all it took was Nix’s freaky power to alter me?”

  “The transformation isn’t complete.”

  Did Zen think that would mollify her disappointment? “Can I reverse the progression, or halt it?”

  “It cannot be reversed. You can halt the turn by denying your inner demon freedom.”

  Madison wanted to hit something. Micah would be an excellent punching bag. “What’s the likelihood of that happening?”

  Petra took several more steps away from her. “With your succubus awake, you’ll have to feed it, Madison.”

  “Go to hell, Petra. I’m not fucking anyone for any reason.” The idea made her stomach churn. Madison pulled her feet into the chair, wishing she held more answers. “Can I get some good news for just once?”

  “Good news, hmm?” Alessa tapped her chin. “Well, you won’t be steamrolled with Nix’s new power when we enter Hell.”

  “Awesome.” At least now she somewhat understood why Micah made the deal for Nix’s heritage. “Speaking of Nix’s power, what’s up with that, Zen?”

  “Phoenix is the Ark of Heaven.”

  Petra hissed in a shocked breath and sidled back into the room to drop onto the nearest chair.

  The headache pounding against her temples could be the cause for her slower mental process, but Madison failed to comprehend.

  “What does the Ark of Heaven mean?” Alessa wrapped her arms around her waist as if she were suddenly cold.

  “It means Phoenix has become priority number one and must come out of Hell immediately. He’s an heir of Jesus.” Zen walked to Madison and used a finger beneath her chin to tip her head back. “His blood can open a doorway to Heaven.”

  And that is why Micah covenanted for his lineage. Madison put the heels of her palms against her eyes, the throbbing growing near to unbearable.

  Precisely, Zen agreed telepathically.

  “Your head is growing worse because you lost too much blood and your demon can only completely heal when you’re fully fed.”

  Madison turned a mutinous glare on Zen. Feeding her demon would create bigger complications. She held his gaze long enough to be sure he heard her thoughts, before rising and moving in the direction of the stairs. First the seclusion of her bedroom, followed by a long bath. She hoped a soak would put everything into perspective.

  “Madison?” At the sound of her name, she stopped in the doorway. “You’ll need to feed before you enter Hell. You cannot face Micah without being fully charged.” She half turned and glanced at Zen over her shoulder. “We haven’t time to waste. If I’d known Phoenix was the Ark of Heaven, I’d have tossed you to Micah as a distraction and saved Phoenix. He’s that important.”

  No one could accuse Zen of sugarcoating the cold-hard truth.

  “Why didn’t you do that today if he’s so important?”

  “Because I cannot bring him back from Hell’s grip. Only you and his lucky charm can do that.”

  Everyone counted on Madison and Alessa to save Nix from Hell. Pandora was like a loose thread on a sweater. One good tug and Madison’s control over the entity would unravel. This new emergence of her demon created further complications. The succubus in her wasn’t just raw, but explosive. Fighting her demonic nature while going up against Micah would create bigger problems in Hell, not to mention reduce their likelihood of success.

  It’s hard to keep your demon contained because you’re too stubborn to feed it, Pandora chided. I prefer you don’t feed it before you go into Hell.

  They needed a Plan B.

  Madison placed her hand on the door frame. No doubt she wouldn’t resist Hell’s allure long if she entered in her current state. But…Madison wouldn’t sleep with anyone to get what she needed.

  She gave a small shake of her head. Desperate for a respite, she’d think about it later. All of this could’ve been avoided if she’d never met Phoenix Birmingham. The blame for his predicament lay at her feet.

  Your logic is riddled with inconsistencies, Madison. Zen’s telepathic words were of little comfort. Without ever meeting you, Micah would’ve discovered Phoenix’s lineage and fought for it. You’re not to blame.

  She kept her back to them because she didn’t think she could face them without letting her emotions fall apart. “Alessa, if you’re still committed to this suicide mission, prepare to barter your soul to me.” She would require at least twenty-four hours to attempt to recoup some energy before squaring off with Micah. “Zen, I’ll give you my soul as well. You will vow to me to destroy it if I don’t return.” Blinking back tears, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “I won’t destroy the world by handing Pandora to Micah.”

  Pandora hissed in her
head and Madison walked off without further communication, her heart so heavy and heartbroken she wished she could wander off and die like dogs did.

  Chapter Nine

  Instead of retiring to her bedroom, the overwhelming need to visit with Amos led her to his room. She knocked on his door and pushed it open. He paused his video game and turned to face her.

  “May I come in?” She fought against the overwhelming sense of defeat.

  “Did you see Nix?”

  “Knew that was coming?” Why hadn’t he forewarned her?

  “Not until it was too late. Y’all were already gone. I tried a telepathic call but couldn’t get through.” The hand holding the controller settled in his lap.

  “Yeah.” She sat on the edge of his bed. “That would be the result of a Demon Lock that trapped me. Why didn’t you send Zen immediately?”

  “I was about to when Alessa’s call came in. But it was something you had to face and nothing I had any business stopping.”

  Madison nodded, unsure how he could know that, but she could do without a confrontation with her son.

  “You smell different, Momma.”

  “That would be my succubus.” Madison put her palm in between her breasts. Her chest ached. “Apparently, it’s been roused.”

  “How?”

  “Nix healed me with his new power.” She braced a hand on the bed. Her palm hit something hard. Power arced from the item. Adjusting her position, she glanced at the object and discovered there were several stones, all etched with various symbols. Four of the marks represented earth’s natural forces—air, wind, water, and fire. There were some she didn’t recognize.

  My son is dabbling with his power. Terror gripped her in a chokehold at the possibility.

  On the periphery of her vision, Amos stood and tossed his controller aside. As she inspected the multi-colored stones, his hand shot out to nab the items, making it obvious he hadn’t wanted her to find them. She caught his wrist and shifted her focus to him.

  “Ten power sources.” Each vibrated a little different than the next one. “For what purpose, Amos?”

  Amos blanked his expression, but she recognized the mutiny in the jut of his chin. “I haven’t used them yet.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I had a relationship built on lies with your daddy. I won’t tolerate one with you.” Amos winced and she realized she squeezed his wrist too hard. Releasing him, she scooped up the stones and dropped them into her lap. “Fess up. Whatever you’ve done—good or bad—just tell me.”

  “So you can fix me?”

  Where had this rebellion come from?

  “No.” Madison shook her head. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression you needed fixing. I have certainly never believed that you did.”

  “Now who’s lying? You forbid me to use my power, Momma. Except to heal you. I know you think it’s bad.”

  “They’re dangerous, not bad, and you don’t know how to utilize them. I was trying to protect you.” Maybe not a good decision to keep his wings clipped so tight. And definitely not wise to exploit those they needed, but not the others. When would she stop failing him as a mother?

  He snatched a stone off the bed she hadn’t realized she missed. A bloodstone, dark green mottled with red, known as the martyr’s stone in the paranormal community because Christians once believed Christ’s blood created it as the liquid dripped to the earth from the cross. Its other known mystical uses were to assist the movement of energy and to remove spiritual blocks.

  The side facing her was engraved with the emblem for Om, Sanskrit letters that represented the eminence of all incantations. A powerful totem, if he knew how to use it, one that often regulated dream-walking. Astral projection should be taken seriously and never harnessed by the untrained. Madison wouldn’t pretend to understand the craft, but her son had no business playing with it.

  He flipped the bloodstone over so she could see the other side.

  My sigil engraved on the back!

  Her attention flew to his face. Amos answered her unspoken question, “I use it to keep me grounded when I”—he shrugged—“dabble.”

  Dear God, he plays with his magic without anyone to help if something goes wrong. Astral projecting without someone to guide him back if he got lost!

  Madison didn’t push because she wanted answers, not to alienate him. She motioned with her hand. “Give it here.”

  “Momma! Please….”

  “I’ll give it back.” Disbelief scrunched the corners of his eyes and his bottom lip vibrated with anger. “Angel, that stone can ground you only so much. Allow me to feed my power into it and it’ll stabilize you better.”

  His eyes widened. “You would do that?”

  “Yes.” Anything to protect you, angel. And she recognized the determination in his features, the hard set to his jaw, and the frown forking his brow. Mother’s intuition screamed he needed to practice his magic. “I wish you would talk to me, explain why you’re testing your magic without telling me.”

  Amos dropped the bloodstone into her palm and she curled her fingers around the cool surface. As she stripped away the enchantment in a swift, easy mental smack, he shifted from one foot to the other. She hoped he contemplated telling her what he’d been doing.

  Taking a deep mental breath, she rolled the stone between both of her hands as she might a set of dice. A shimmer in her mind surfaced, near to blinding, but haloed with a red haze. She recognized it as the center of her devilry and infused strands of it into the pebble.

  “I promise not to freak out,” she said, reminding him she’d asked a question. She promised not to freak out openly, but she didn’t vow to remain levelheaded out of his presence. The stone grew warm in her palm as she energized it; Amos gawked as he concentrated on her hands. “Can you see my magic?”

  He nodded, which proved his demon mojo was stronger than she’d known. A small grin surfaced as he peeked at her. “Yours is kinda pretty, Momma.”

  Her power materialized as a rosy glow, interlaced with gold and bright streamers of pink. She wouldn’t exactly call those ‘boy’ colors. One side of her mouth quirked. “Kinda pretty, huh?”

  He nodded and teased, “For a girl.”

  She laughed and extended her arm. Palm up, the stone rested in her hand. “Take it and tell me what it feels like?”

  Joy crinkled the corners of his eyes and stretched his mouth into a full-blown grin. Amos ran his fingertip across the pebble before plucking it from her palm. He clenched the stone in a fist so tight his knuckles turned white.

  “Momma!” He threw his arms around her neck. “Thank you.”

  She squeezed him tight but couldn’t speak for the sudden knot clogging her throat. One small personal gift of herself pleased him more than any gift she’d ever bought him.

  He withdrew from her embrace and relaxed his fingers to peer at the bloodstone. The grin still captured his face. “You taste spicy like peppers on my tongue.” Interesting, but he would divulge more. “Kinda wild and rebellious, too, but a sugary sweetness that makes me think of thirst instead of candy.”

  It made sense that he associated thirst with her succubus. “Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to now?”

  The stones knocked together, creating a tinkling sound, as she dipped them off her lap and dropped them back on the bed by her hip. He shuffled his feet and looked everywhere but at her.

  “Promise not to get mad?”

  Oh, this is bad. The bad news kept piling up today.

  “I swear.” She crossed her ankles and watched him tuck the bloodstone into his pocket.

  “I’m curious about it. The magic’s always there, a constant tug to play with. I try to ignore it, but sometimes I ache in my teeth to use it. When I focus some of it out of me, the pain goes away.” He shrugged and her heart broke for him. “I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

  “You didn’t trust me enough to find out if I’d approve or not.” Hurting him never hit her agenda. She understood temptation and curi
osity, but she couldn’t relate to it, since she’d never ached to use her alchemy.

  “How’d you feed the sorcery into the stones?”

  “I didn’t. Petra gave them to me for my last birthday.” Madison would kill Petra first chance she got. Amos went on, thankfully not realizing her volatile emotions. “She said they were Azura stones, and they’ll only work for the person they were intended for.”

  She’d never heard of Azura stones, but there were many things she held no knowledge of in the paranormal world.

  “We have to make our trip to Hell in the next day or two, Amos, but after”—she cleared her clogged throat—“I return, we’ll work on your magic together.” If she came out and if she wasn’t screwed up when she exited the fiery locale.

  “Seriously?” His voice came out high-pitched with excitement.

  “Yeah, seriously.” Madison smiled. Maybe they’d bond testing his limits. “We’ll practice as often as you like, so long as there is no solo practicing. Zen or I must be with you at all times. Deal?”

  “You’re the coolest mom in the whole world!” He kissed her cheek and took off for the door. “I’m gonna go tell Petra.” At the door he stopped. “Momma?”

  “Yes, angel?”

  “I used to see one clear future. Now, there are two distinct futures. I don’t know which one I prefer.”

  Her mouth grew gritty, as if the windswept sands of a desert had relocated inside. She swallowed twice to replace the moisture, but it only helped a fraction. “And?”

  “I’m trying to let you decide the road we take, trusting you to make the right one. But it’s getting harder to do every day.” His hand moved in his jean pocket, she guessed fiddling with the bloodstone. “I—I—feel a pull to the side you don’t want.”

  Amos fled the room before she could ask more questions. Unprepared for the level of his honesty, she slumped against the bed. She needed a break from her complicated life. That wouldn’t be happening. Micah must be neutralized soon. Her son’s soul was at stake and his confession proved he suspected it.