Phoenix King

by Miranda Martin

  But he didn't react to the feel of the cool steel against his throat or the warm drip of his own blood.

  Not like I expected him to.

  "You fool," he said, grinning at me. "This was the contingency plan. Do you really believe it would be one man in a hand-to-hand situation? After all the near-misses we had?"

  He reached down.

  I pressed the knife harder against him, but he took a grip on the side of his shirt and ripped it open anyway, allowing me to cut deeper.

  "Doesn't matter what you do to me," he said, his eyes holding a sick satisfaction. "You're done."

  Frowning, I risked a glance down. He was wearing some kind of vest with wires attached. . . .

  It took me a precious second to process.

  Bomb.

  He was wearing a bomb. I shoved away from him and whirled around.

  "It's too late!" he called out, still laughing. "No use in running now!"

  The window was ten feet away.

  Seven feet.

  Three feet.

  Come on.

  I pushed my feet faster, but it felt like I was still moving through molasses.

  The window inched closer.

  "Time's out," the man taunted behind me. "Game over."

  I jumped and twisted in the air, closing my eyes and protecting my face as I held my breath.

  "You're done!" he screamed behind me.

  I dove through the window feet-first, the glass shattering easily, cutting me in a few places as I landed on the fire escape outside.

  Not far enough away.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I didn't have time to recover.

  Turning, I half-fell, half-ran down the steps.

  Why was it that whenever you need to move fast, it feels like your body couldn't even move at a normal speed? I didn't have time to contemplate that question either.

  There was a boom so loud I felt it in my stomach, felt it in bones for that matter. It vibrated through my whole body. I automatically covered my ears with my hands in a vain attempt to protect them.

  In the next instant, the heavy push of scalding-hot air directly behind me had me flying down the stairs at what I would call a less-than-controlled speed.

  The fire escape rocked under my feet, almost dislodging me completely, almost breaking the fire escape off the side of the building. I could feel it straining. I grabbed onto the railing, hanging on even as I tried to get down faster.

  Somehow, I made it down to the street, my ears ringing, the few cuts I had on me stinging. The smell of burnt hair lingered on me.

  Lovely.

  I checked the ends of my hair. Not on fire, but definitely singed. I shook my head, sending pieces of glass flying as I used the wall to support myself, taking comfort in the hard, stable surface. When I finally looked up, it was to see thick, almost black smoke billowing out of the window, tendrils of angry orange fire flickering inside. The outside of the window was scorched black.

  I could hear shouts coming from the front of the building. That would have gotten everyone's attention, nearby and otherwise. Surprisingly, the explosion looked like a small one, contained to my apartment, but probably at least damaging the ones around mine. If the fire wasn't put out quickly, there would be even more collateral damage.

  Maybe it was an odd silver lining to focus on, but I was surprised the bomb hadn't been built to take the entire building down. They hadn't seemed worried about everyone else before when they'd come after me. Maybe it was what they could get in the dome on such short notice. Explosives were even harder to procure than firearms. They could damage the dome way too much, placing everyone inside in danger.

  Also, the fact that I was thinking all of that when I'd just escaped with my life told me I was in shock.

  The world felt surreal around me as I slowly made my way to the front. I felt like my head was wrapped in cotton. Like I was seeing everything, experiencing it through a distance.

  I couldn't believe I made it out alive.

  My hearing slowly started coming back as I made it to the street, my eyes searching the crowd gathering to stare even as I heard sirens nearing. A fire was no joke in such close quarters. Everything was built to be fire resistant, but there was no substitute for the water or the foam that was used to smother the flame.

  It didn't take me long to find Ashur. He was out of the car, his head tilted back, his expression horrified as he took in the destruction of my floor.

  "Mia!" he yelled, taking a stunned step closer. And then another. Oh no.

  He couldn't be thinking of going in there.

  Even if he could heal the fire damage, it would blow his cover hard. Right in the middle of a city dome. He'd be immediately trapped.

  "Ashur," I tried calling out, but it came out in a hoarse whisper rather than the shout I wanted.

  I had to intercept him.

  I forced my legs to coordinate with me. They didn't particularly want to, but finally fell into line enough that I could move. I closed the distance between us, but not enough. He was right outside the door.

  "No!" I called out, almost tackling him as he reached for the door.

  He turned to look at me, his face angry and terrified. And then he blinked as he saw my face. It took him a moment to realize it was me. Probably because I most likely looked like hell.

  "Mia," he whispered. Then he crushed me to him, his arms tight enough that my ribs creaked. But the pain felt good. It reminded me that I was still here.

  Still alive.

  "What the hell happened?" he muttered into my hair, taking a deep breath. "I thought you were in your apartment?"

  "I was. Got out by the fire escape," I explained. "We didn't get everyone in the warehouse," I murmured. "The last guy strapped a bomb on himself and decided to pay me a visit."

  He tensed at that information. "Fuck," he said in a low growl. "I should have gone up with you."

  I squeezed him hard against me. "No, it wouldn't have helped. What would you have done? Do you know how to disarm an explosive?"

  "No. But punching that guy in the face would have been satisfying."

  Couldn't argue with that.

  The paramedics arrived on the scene then and Ashur wouldn't let me avoid them. So I sat down while they checked my wounds and asked me questions before giving me the go-ahead.

  "I'm good to go?" I repeated, making sure that Ashur heard.

  "That's right," the competent woman said, packing away her stuff. "Maybe don't be caught in any more explosions any time soon, though."

  Everyone was a comedian.

  "I'll take it under advisement," I responded, standing up and looking over at Ashur. "Satisfied?"

  "Not nearly," he said seriously. "But it'll have to do."

  I leaned against his side and he wrapped an arm around my waist to support me. I was so tired. I felt it hit me all at once. He swung me up in his arms, and I didn't even have the energy to complain about it. I just wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into the hold.

  "Back to your place?" I asked as he turned us to the car.

  "Yes," he agreed. "We're not staying in this pressure cooker a second longer."

  I wanted to defend the dome. I'd spent my whole life in it, after all. But I couldn't summon the energy, not after everything that had happened. It was kind of a hard sell at this point. Maybe after I'd had some time to recover and get some perspective.

  So I just sat down in the car, let out a sigh of relief, and closed my eyes as Ashur headed to the gate that led outside. I would never have imagined that I would feel relief leaving the city dome.

  Just another example that life wasn't always what you expected it to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "Home sweet home," Ashur said with a smile as we drove into his city. "I don't know if I've ever been this glad to be back."

  I completely understood what he meant.

  The edges of the city were ruins, skeletons of old buildings and a different civilization al
together.

  One that we couldn't sustain due to our own foolishness. They were bleached from the sun and the effects of the caustic chemicals in the air were apparent in the way the structures were eroding. All reasons why humans had to stay in the protected city domes, only venturing out with protective gear if they were smart. They wouldn't die instantly, but human bodies were more vulnerable to the result of the pollution we'd all caused. Breathing the air out here and standing in the direct sunlight would cause damage that wasn't pretty.

  Dragons and phoenixes lived fine outside the domes, however. Their—our—affinity for the sun meant we thrived in the direct rays and our bodies were hardier, able to withstand the chemicals in the air. I appreciated that a lot more once I actually ventured out of the dome for a longer period of time. Until then, my own affinity for the sun was more of a hindrance than anything, forcing me to leave the city dome at set intervals to absorb direct rays and avoid sun-sickness.

  I didn't see it as a nuisance anymore.

  We passed the empty, ghost-like border the dragons kept for security, and arrived in the thriving, gorgeous city with one of the most valuable commodities in a city dome—space. That was one of the first things that had struck me when I'd first arrived here. The space. The wide-open streets, designed with a dragon's huge wingspan in mind.

  Also how clean it all was, the sandstone color and slight sparkle to everything giving it a very desert-like appearance. The city blended beautifully with the land, because everything around the city was actually desert, the harsh rays of the sun beating down through the severely depleted ozone layer.

  We drove through the wide street and pulled up to the high rise that was Ashur's home and a general meeting center for his skein as well.

  It was good to be the Dragon Lord.

  At the moment, I was only interested in one particular person. I spotted him waiting outside. I stepped out of the car before it had come to a complete stop and heard his excited cries.

  "Mia! Mia!"

  I grinned, holding my arms out as Omari rushed into them, a big, happy grin on his face.

  "Did you catch the bad guys?" he asked excitedly. "Enzi told me you were coming back so I was waiting by the door for you."

  "I see that," I said, laughing at his excitement. "Yes, we did get the bad guys," I said. There would be time enough to tell him about the rest later, as needed. He was still so young.

  "Oh good! Did Ashur and Jacob beat them up?" he asked, stepping back and giving some pretty credible punches and kicks with his small hands and feet.

  I looked up at Enzi with a raised brow. Those weren't normal childish kicks and punches.

  Enzi shrugged sheepishly.

  "He saw us practicing and wanted to learn. I thought he was old enough, but if it's a problem . . ."

  I sighed. I guess he was old enough. And learning how to protect himself wasn't a bad thing.

  "No, it's fine," I reassured Enzi. "Thanks for taking care of him."

  "It was my pleasure," he said, smiling down at Omari. "He's a handful, but a good kid."

  "A handful of what?" Omari asked questioningly.

  I was laughing as Ashur stepped up.

  "Hi Omari," Ashur said, stepping up.

  "Hi, Ashur!" Omari greeted happily, stopping mid-badass-move to give him a hug too. "Do you want to hear what happened in school yesterday?" he asked, already distracted by something else.

  That was a relief, but I knew he'd grow out of his stage soon enough, and it would be harder and harder to distract him. Well, I'd enjoy it while it lasted. Omari talked our ears off as we all got in the elevator. I was happy to hear all of it. I'd really missed his chatter while he was gone.

  People nodded at me as we passed, somewhat reserved, even as they called out happy greetings to Ashur. He was really well-liked by his people. I was guessing they weren't exactly thrilled with how much of his time I was taking. Any time he gave me in the city dome, he was taking away from them. I understood.

  Ashur pressed the button for the top floor. I looked over at him questioningly.

  "Omari's been staying with Enzi on a lower floor, but I have a room set up for him on my floor," he said quietly. "Now that we're both here, we can all stay in my place. Together."

  I felt a nervous flutter in my chest. This really felt like a family situation. But as nervous as I was about it, it was too late to turn back. I was all in. I really hoped everything worked out. For everyone's sake.

  "Oh, wow!" Omari exclaimed as the elevator doors opened on a ridiculously high floor. "You have the whole floor?" he asked Ashur as we stepped out into a gorgeous foyer done in rustic tile with elegant end tables and chairs to the side to create a seating area. A gorgeous oil painting was set in the alcove behind it, depicting the city and two dragons silhouetted by the setting sun.

  "Yes, I do," Ashur said, leading us to the doors that opened up to his domain. "Which means the whole floor is yours too," he added with a smile.

  "Cool!"

  He keyed the doors open with a retinal scan and a print system. I guessed with so many people always wanting his attention, he'd guard his private space well. The doors opened smoothly. And we walked into what I could only describe as a penthouse. Which was exactly what it was, but I meant the feel of it. It felt . . . expensive. Sleek furniture filled the space, somehow managing to blend well with the more rustic touches in the plush carpets and the artwork. It was a blend that I hadn't seen before but that worked. It suited Ashur.

  The kitchen was in the center, with an open floor plan leading to the living and dining areas. It was done in a beautiful gray granite, the appliances shiny and new. To the left, there was a large archway that looked like it probably led to the bedrooms. The wall directly in front of us was made of seamless glass, with a discreet door to the side I almost missed. It led out to a balcony without any railing.

  Perfect for wings. Not so great for six year olds who couldn't fly yet.

  "Omari, you're not allowed out there, okay?"

  "Okay!" he said, already wandering around to touch things and stick his nose everywhere.

  "Come on, I'll show you your room," Ashur said, ushering Omari to the archway. "You like cars, right?"

  I followed behind, taking everything in.

  Back in the city dome with Ashur in my territory, it was easier to disregard the difference between our lifestyles. Well. Easier, but not easy when I saw the cars he drove. But here . . . here, it was obvious once again, making me feel at a disadvantage. But that was my issue, not his. I tried to squash it firmly.

  The room he led Omari to was a little boy's dream. Toys were already set up in the corner, neatly arranged by someone, a bunk bed was set along one wall, a slide coming down from the top bunk, and a game console with a big screen television was situated at the other end.

  "Wow!"

  Omari walked in, looking around and immediately going to the toys. "Are these mine?"

  "They are," Ashur agreed. "And you can invite any of your friends to come up and play."

  Omari continued to root through the treasure trove inside, talking a mile a minute about what he found.

  "What do you say, Omari?" I prodded.

  "Thank you Ashur!" he said, running over and hugging him, but then immediately going back to the toys. Ashur chuckled.

  "You're going to spoil him," I murmured, but I was smiling as I took in how happy he was.

  "He deserves a little spoiling," Ashur countered. "It won't hurt him." He cast a glance at Omari's progress. "Come on, he's going to be a while. Let me show you where you're staying."

  "Do I get my own room too?" I teased.

  He gave me a look.

  "You get my room," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. Not that I wanted to argue. I smiled a little at his grumbling as I followed him down the hall.

  We walked into a master suite that was easily larger than my apartment. By a good measure. Maybe three times the size of it actually, by a conservative guess. It was h
uge.

  The bathroom was complete with a spa, the bed in the center was a size I didn't even know they made, and the sitting area with cushy chairs faced a massive entertainment center looked like a small theater rather than a place to just lounge.

  And, of course, that crazy city and desert view, complete with a balcony, again without a railing. He must have seen me eyeing it because he walked over and showed the lock at the top of the door, away from curious little fingers.

  "I had the locks installed some time ago," he said. "For Omari. They're out in the living area too."

  That, right there, meant more than anything else. Yeah, he had money. But it was his heart that was worth everything.

  "That was really sweet of you," I murmured, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

  "Hmm." He wrapped his own arms around me. "Well, maybe I should put locks on everything," he said, wagging his brows.

  I laughed. "Maybe you should," I agreed.

  I pressed my lips against his.

  Just then, Omari burst in. "I'm hungry!"

  We broke apart immediately, giving each other rueful smiles.

  "I could do with a shower," I admitted. "Could you feed the beast?"

  “Sure,” Asher said. "Come on, I ordered some food to be sent up," he told Omari as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him out. "It should be getting here, right about . . . now."

  A musical bell rang through the place.

  "How did you know that?" I heard Omari demanding as they walked down the hall, his voice filled with awe.

  "Magic," Ashur whispered.

  I was smiling to myself as I walked into the palatial bathroom. It was done in creams and oatmeal, with darker wood touches. The veined tiles were covered in plush rugs that my feet sank into. My reflections stared back at me. Beat up and tired. I really needed this shower, if only to get the smell of burned hair off me.

  That’s a thought.

  I rummaged through the drawers until I came out with a pair of small scissors. They probably weren't meant for this, but they'd get the job done. Bringing my hair forward, I chopped off about three inches before I was satisfied I'd gotten all the burned bits. The length just reached passed my shoulders now. It was . . . mostly straight.