Ghost Phoenix

by Corrina Lawson

  “No way. I’m not letting him walk into this unless I know what the hell is going on.”

  “But you’re content to let me walk into this?” Richard said.

  “Why not? It’s your thing too.”

  Marian walked over and took Richard’s hand. “Where you go, I go.”

  Whatever happened next with her life, good or bad, it would happen with Richard.

  He hugged her and bent his neck to kiss her. “Thank you, Angel,” he murmured into her ear. “All right. Let’s roll. I’ll drive.”

  “Where?” Daz asked.

  “I said I’d drive,” Richard answered.

  They packed, checked out of the hotel and settled in to the car. Richard, for the first time, took the driver’s seat.

  It took all of five seconds for Marian to begin clutching the armrest tight.

  “You like speed, Prince?” Daz asked from the backseat.

  “Who doesn’t?” Richard said.

  Though the countryside zipped by, Marian soon realized they were headed toward Normandy.

  “We’re going to talk to Lord Romanoff again?” Marian asked.

  “I’m going to chat with Lord Romanoff,” Richard answered.

  Marian doubted when Romanoff warned her about curses he’d realized that he was dealing with an immortal prince who obviously could hold a grudge. All she could do was hold on now and wait for what happened.

  In what seemed like no time at all, they pulled into the driveway of Romanoff’s estate on the cliffs. Richard parked on lawn at the back of the windswept mansion. Overhead, dark clouds hung in the sky. She heard the distant sound of thunder.

  Richard got out of the car and took off his hooded jacket. He tossed it inside the vehicle and slammed the door.

  “Let’s coordinate tactics,” Daz said as the rain started to fall around them.

  “I’m going in alone,” Richard said.

  “I know how to handle him, I can—”

  “No, Angel. I’m going in. Wait here, both of you.”

  Richard walked up to the stone fence surrounding the back deck and leapt over the seven-foot-high fence. He pulled open the back door. Unlocked? No, he probably used his enhanced strength.

  “What, we just wait here?” she asked Daz.

  “Prince boy obviously has a plan. Let’s give it a few minutes and see what happens.”

  Marian drew her coat tighter around her as the raindrops grew heavier. “This is idiotic. We should be helping him.”

  “We are. We’re guarding his back,” Daz said.

  Daz’s phone rang. “Gotta take this,” he said as he looked at the display. “Keep watch.”

  She stared at the home, undecided whether to disobey and go inside or wait. Beside her, Daz’s end of the conversation was a lot of uh-huhs, and got its. Obviously, he didn’t want her to overhear.

  Lightning split the sky. Marian blinked, and when she refocused, Richard and Lord Romanoff stood on the patio. Richard had his hand on Romanoff’s shoulder and was leaning down to speak to the shorter man.

  Romanoff put up his hand, as if in surrender. Richard whispered something in his ear. Romanoff nodded slowly. Richard watched with his arms crossed over his chest as Romanoff backed up to his door and went inside his home.

  Richard came back to the car the same way he’d left it, by vaulting over the fence.

  As he drew closer, she noticed blood dripped from his arm, though the rain had already started to wash it away. A thin scar from his elbow to his wrist was disappearing even as she watched.

  “Let’s go.” Richard pressed the keys into her hand. “Angel, you drive now.”

  Thank God, she thought, and took the wheel. Richard sat in the back and closed his eyes. Daz shook his head and took shotgun.

  Lightning crackled again as they pulled out of the driveway. “What happened in there?” she asked. “Is that blood yours or his, Richard?”

  “It’s my own blood, but it could easily have been his if I wanted,” Richard said without opening his eyes.

  “What’d you threaten him with?” Daz asked.

  “I threatened nothing. I told him he should be far more worried about the curse of an immortal prince than a curse from the pretender, Rasputin. And some of my blood might have dripped on his tiger-striped rug. After that, he talked freely.”

  She could well imagine Romanoff’s worry for his precious Elvis room. What she couldn’t imagine was Richard being terrifying. But he must have been.

  “What did Romanoff tell you?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, not much. He said the source called him from Germany, from a local museum in Idar-Oberstein and he also gave me a current address for the family of the empress’s nurse. But he claimed that’s all he knew. I choose to believe him, as he knew if he lied, I’d be back.”

  “That’s the same area of Germany your source gave us,” Marian said. “I guess that’s our next step.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s it? We just drive to this museum or this house and see what happens? That’s the plan? We become bait to draw them out?” Daz asked.

  “Do you have a better plan?” Richard asked.

  Daz sighed. “No, not really.”

  Marian’s hands tightened on the wheel as the road became slick in the rain.

  Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “Now leave me be. I’m tired and need to sleep. Marian, stop for the night somewhere in Germany close to our destination. I want to be fresh when we reach Idar-Oberstein.”

  And that was that. As the French countryside passed by in the dark of the storm, doubt crept in about being with him, the most impulsive decision she’d ever made. She’d worried about the consequences of smuggling. The consequences of Richard’s quest could be far more dangerous than being arrested.

  Argh. Maybe she should have listened and gone back, as Richard had urged.

  But then she wouldn’t be with him.

  Because after years of dreaming of a life of her own choice, a normal life where she used her phantom ability for the right reasons, she had fallen completely for an immortal prince and would likely do whatever he wanted.

  She’d do anything he asked, make love to him every night for the rest of her life and follow him to the ends of the Earth if he only whispered Angel in her ear a few times a day.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Because while he might care about her, Richard couldn’t be in love with her. She was interesting and he was curious, and he enjoyed sex with her, and he loved seeing her use her power. Okay, he loved her power. Look at the way he insisted she make him a phantom this morning.

  But in love with her?

  Hah. Look at the way he unilaterally made decisions. Look at how he’d simply taken charge of Romanoff’s interrogation. How could their relationship even be close to a partnership?

  The day Richard walked out of her life, it would be bad. Awful. Heart-wrenching.

  She wondered if being with him, even for a short time, would be worth that heartache.

  Yes.

  In a few hours, they reached the border crossing to Germany, and they had to provide identification and passports. Daz joked with the young woman checking their identification. Marian’s sense of humor abandoned her. She handed over the documents without a word and clutched the steering wheel tight, worried about arrest warrants or orders not to leave the country. Sweat drenched her back, soaking her sweater.

  Richard woke up and handed over his documents without comment, disinterested and seemingly unworried about being caught. He’d probably done this sort of thing many times. He couldn’t die. Why should he care if they were caught?

  Unfair, she thought. He cared about finding Rasputin. And he did care about protecting her. She meant that much to him, at least. Maybe she was the equivalent of a very good dog to him.


  No, he cared about her as a person. She was being unfair. And stupid. And insecure.

  She nearly squealed the tires as she pulled away from the border crossing.

  Daz snorted. “And here I was worried about his driving. Take it easy, there, Speed Racer.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she mumbled.

  “It’ll be all right,” Richard said.

  She nodded. No, it would never be all right again. She began flipping through the music channels, hoping for an American station to distract her. Their speed climbed on the autobahn. Her death grip on the wheel loosened as the fear dissipated.

  “Wait, keep that! Turn it up,” Richard said as she almost went past a song.

  “‘Call Me, Maybe?’ Immortal Prince Richard likes ‘Call Me, Maybe’?” Daz said.

  Richard began singing in a nice tenor voice. Daz grinned and joined in. And then she couldn’t help laughing because the song was so happy and they sounded so silly singing it.

  She joined in at the chorus.

  Yes, she had just met Richard and this was definitely crazy. But so what?

  Marian stopped for the night at a bed and breakfast that had been recommended highly by her father when she called him. “It’s out of the way, in this nice quiet town, no fuss, no muss,” he’d informed her.

  He’d asked how things were going. She’d said fine, because otherwise he’d worry. He’d feel guilty, and why bother him when he could do nothing about it?

  Dad’s recommendation was spot-on. The B&B practically screamed peaceful Bavarian country dwelling. The downstairs lobby reflected the exterior, all warm hardwoods and sturdy German furniture. The second-floor rooms consisted of a big bed, a dresser and an attached bathroom. No television and no phones, though they did have wireless Internet.

  She paid for two rooms, thinking the men could share one and she would have the other. After all, Richard needed the bodyguard, not her.

  Richard changed her internal arrangements without consulting her by carrying his luggage and hers into one room. Daz grabbed the room at the front of the hallway, across from the top of the steps.

  “Are you planning to sleep with that door open to see if anyone comes up the stairs?” she asked.

  “No need for sleep. I napped in the car, so I’m good. I’ll leave the door open while I read,” he answered.

  “To guard us,” she said.

  “Yep. It’s what I’m here for.”

  She lingered in the hallway, uncertain of whether to go into her room with Richard just yet.

  “You might want to keep it down a bit, tonight,” Daz said as he tossed his gear onto his bed. “The fräulein who runs this place looks like she wouldn’t take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night.”

  Marian glanced down on her shoes. “Uh, okay.”

  Daz moved closer. “Hey, Marian, I’m sorry. Relax. I’m used to teasing people. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Not really, not if it bugged you. And I’m sorry about the crossed signals last night. I should’ve realized you were hung up on the prince. I get it.” He stood between her and her room. “What I don’t get is why you’re lingering in the hallway?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t voice what she couldn’t comprehend yet herself.

  Daz pointed to his room. “You can sleep in here if you want. And that’s not a come-on.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed out. “But it’s not necessary.”

  “The offer stands all night long.”

  She stepped inside and poured a glass of water from his bathroom. She swallowed it all down in one gulp. “Daz, you’re friends with Alec Farley.”

  “Yeah. And?”

  “Why?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I’m saying this all wrong.” She shook her head. “What I meant is that I work for the firm because they’re family and they need me. Richard is doing this for his court, who are also his family. But, you, you’re walking into danger for Alec and the Phoenix Institute. I don’t understand why. I know you owe him and I know you’re a soldier, but that doesn’t explain why you’re so loyal.”

  Daz arranged the chair so it set against the door to the hallway. He sat down, staring out the door and to the stairs beyond.

  “Alec’s team. Team sticks together.” He crossed his legs at the ankles. “Team takes care of each other.”

  “How did you get to be team?”

  “Like any other relationship, it takes time and shared experiences.” Daz smiled. “When I left the service, I lost my team. They scattered to the winds. It wasn’t the same. But Alec and my F-Team aren’t going to scatter. We’re in it for the long haul.”

  “You’re a family,” she said.

  “A family more loyal than my given one.” He turned his gaze on her. “You could be team too. You could be part of the Phoenix Institute. I thought Alec was a little touched at first, trying to find other psychics with abilities and teach them. But I keep meeting more people with powers and I see exactly why Alec thinks the institute is needed. People feel like they’re found a home or they’re grateful to know they’re not alone. You could join us. I was talking truth last night when I asked that. Okay, I was also coming on to you. But I meant that part. We could use you.”

  She leaned against the doorframe, focusing all her attention on Daz. “I’d be team too?”

  “After a while, yeah.”

  She would belong to a different family, one that used her abilities to help others, not for money. It wasn’t her dream of archeology, but it was good, honest work.

  She leaned over and kissed Daz on the cheek. “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

  “A sweetheart who’s sleeping alone tonight.”

  “You said you didn’t need to sleep, remember? And, Daz, thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  She turned away and walked to her room and the very big bed that awaited.

  The room’s sloped ceilings made her feel trapped. Richard ducked his head as he came out of the bathroom to avoid a rafter. “What did Daz want?”

  “He’s standing guard duty. He wanted to let us know.” That was a lie, dammit. “And he wanted to make sure I was okay sharing the room with you.”

  “I assumed you would want to share with me.” Richard sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her. “Do you not?”

  “I want it more than anything in the world.” Oh, no, she’d said that out loud.

  He reached his hand to her. “Angel,” he whispered.

  That night, she managed not to scream. Only just barely.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The alabaster stone church of Idar-Oberstein loomed above them on the massive cliff face. The view as they drove up the winding road from valley to the hills was spectacular.

  All her traveling in Europe and yet she had never been to the gem capital. She dealt mostly in historical objects, art and statutes and other items. Rarely did she deal in gems. The family line was that precious gems attracted too many crazy people, so Doyle Antiquities steered clear. She wished playing “stalking goat” as Daz put it, hadn’t brought her here for the first time. She’d have liked to view it on its own merits.

  Her eyes widened as they drove closer to the mountain and the scope of the Church of the Rock became apparent. It appeared the cliff itself had given birth to a pale child, one still attached by a cord of stone.

  It must have taken local craftsmen years, no, decades, to construct it. She guessed there were all sorts of handmade touches inside the Church. So often, medieval craftsmen left something personal behind, to sign their work. She wondered if Richard’s court contained immortal stonemasons and metalsmiths. She would love to talk to one.

  “Hey, I’ve been here on vacation,” Daz said from the backseat. “Forg
ot that.”

  “When?” Richard asked.

  “Yes, when?” Marian echoed.

  As striking as a medieval Church built into the side of a cliff was, it was not a well-known tourist destination, at least among regular American tourists. She knew about the city because of the gemstone trade. Precious gems from years gone by often could be tracked to Idar-Oberstein as the source. Once, her grandfather had falsified documents, claiming the unusual gems bought on the black market for a client’s collection had come from Idar-Oberstein’s mines originally. It was a plausible explanation. The client and the customs agents bought it.

  But Grandfather had been spooked by the scrutiny, and they’d never done it again. And he called her a coward.

  After that, she finally started to think about exactly what she was doing. No one ever gets hurt, her grandfather told her over and over. But that seemed too simplistic. She was a looter, a grave robber, a tomb raider.

  “I’ve definitely been here,” Daz repeated.

  “You seem more the type to go camping or to the beach for a vacation rather than visit a quaint German town,” she said.

  “I visited with a girlfriend who was stationed at Ramstein Air Force base. She loved everything about this place. When she was a military brat growing up in Germany, her family had visited and she wanted to go back. It’s popular among U.S. military families. My girlfriend used a German name for that church. Felsenkid, Felsenkind, no, wait, Felsenkirche.”

  Marian nodded. “That’s German for Church in the Rock. Or, the Rock Church, to use an easier English translation.”

  “It sounds more impressive in German,” Daz said.

  “I know.”

  “I wonder if there are tunnels into the cliff from the church?” Richard asked.

  He had been mostly silent this morning. No more singing. She had half expected him to demand to drive on the autobahn, yet he’d seemed content.

  “You have to enter through a tunnel to even get into the Church, so there’s at least one. If I remember right, it’s quite a climb,” Daz said. “I imagine you could tunnel to other places in that cliff. It’s damn thick rock, though. Any modern tunneling techniques would make a lot of noise.”