Air rushes into my lungs, and I choke on two syllables. “Keenan.”
“He still doesn’t believe me?” Daniel shakes his head and grasps Keenan’s neck. “Very well, I’ll show you.”
Rage surges forth, propelling me forward. “Leave him alone!”
The two blockers at my side grab my arms, restraining me between them.
Keenan’s eyes flare open as Daniel’s fingers tighten around his throat. But I know it’s because of the memory Daniel is showing him. My pulse rushes to my ears as I scramble to guess what images are unfolding in his mind. When Daniel finally releases him, he gasps and sucks in a deep breath. His gaze falls back on me, sending a chill through my body. It’s the same look he had given me the first day we met. Suspicion mixed with hostility.
Daniel rests a hand on his shoulder. “Now that you know who Moira is, it’s time I repay you.”
He pulls back his other hand and drives his fist into Keenan’s stomach. Keenan doubles over and clutches his waist. Another blow to his face, and horror grips me as blood flows from his nose. A strangled growl rises from within. I barrel into one of the blockers’ mind and persuade him to release me. The command settles in, and his hand falls to his side. I don’t waste a second before storming into the other blocker’s mind and forcing him to let go of my arm. He frees me just as Daniel strikes Keenan in the stomach.
Keenan falls to his knees, clutching his abdomen. Pain pulls his expression into a tight grimace.
I rush forward and kneel beside him. “Keenan.”
His name leaves my lips in a whispered plea.
He recoils from my touch, and my heart withers beneath his glare. As tears threaten to spill from my eyes, I remind myself I deserve his resentment. I had betrayed him. With the evidence presented to him, he has every right to draw the conclusion he has. In his mind, I’ve been with Mr. Hayes all along. Everything that has happened has all been part of a plan to deceive him. He doesn’t believe Icarus is in the hospital anymore. He thinks I tricked him into thinking the Phoenix was defeated.
The hoarseness in his voice muffles his words. “Everything was a lie.”
And even though he doesn’t speak it, I know what he fails to say out loud: You never loved me.
My voice leaves me in a broken whisper. “I can explain.”
“As much as I enjoy seeing you both like this, I’m afraid I must interrupt.” Daniel snaps his fingers and gestures for the blockers to separate us. “The Phoenix has been asking for you, Moira.”
Two blockers grab my arms and haul me up to my feet. They drag me along, pulling me toward one of the halls. I push out with my feet, but my boots slide across the floor. I jab my elbow into one of the men’s side, and receive the sting of a slap on my cheek. Twisting my neck, I glance behind us. Keenan remains on his knees with his head bowed in submission. Dark blood trails down his nose, over his mouth, and drips to the floor. At first sight, he looks broken. But when I peer closer, I notice the quick rise and fall of his shoulders. Each breath fuels the chaos in his mind.
The sight feeds my own resolve, shoving the panic to the deep parts of my mind.
“What are you going to do with him?”
My voice echoes in the foyer. Daniel lifts his gaze away from Keenan, and the manic glee in his eyes pulls a gasp from my lungs. Keenan was right. I was a fool to think of Daniel as harmless. He may lack the intelligence and patience of Icarus and Jonathan, but he makes up for both with his brutality. A surge of panic causes my pulse to race. My previous worries of forgiveness and love are wiped away by the fear for our lives. At any moment, Daniel could kill us both.
He rubs the knuckles on his left hand. “Don’t worry, Moira. I’ll take good care of the detective.”
The blockers tug me down the hall, and Keenan vanishes from sight. I swivel my head around as a flurry of thoughts bombard me. Icarus was in the hospital. I felt the absence of his mind. He was gone, trapped in a dreamscape. His power had exceeded beyond anyone I’ve ever known, but even he has his limits. He would have never succeeded in the Dream House. So the only way he could have escaped was with the help of a dream weaver, and Keenan made sure only a select few of the Elite knew of Icarus’s incident.
The door to Icarus’s office opens. A young man steps out into the hallway and lifts his gaze up to mine. I fall limp in the two blockers’ arms and take in the dream weaver’s appearance. Evan’s white tunic and trousers stick out from the dark panels of wood around him. Worry tightens the corners of his eyes. My mouth parts as shock and understanding crash into me at once. All this time, I had trusted him. But he had never been on my side. A scream threatens to tear from my throat as his betrayal sinks in.
Another truth slaps me in the face. He’s the one who has helped Icarus out of the dream. Doubt creeps in, making me wonder if he had locked Icarus in a dream at all and had only faked it.
I throw him an accusatory glare. “I trusted you. But now I know why you were so eager to help me.”
“Moira, it’s not what it looks like.” Evan’s gaze shifts to the two blockers, and his apprehension morphs into stoicism. “Release her. I’ll take her to the Phoenix.”
“Fine with us,” says one of the blockers. “We know how much you like the Elite whore.”
Both men loosen their hold and shove me forward. My ankle buckles, and I stumble into Evan’s arms. My shock morphs into anger as I push against his chest. He stops me by seizing my wrists, and his mind strokes mine in a silent message. I ignore it and prepare to enter his landscape, but a wave of calm settles over me, blinding me from my intent.
When the two blockers retreat, Evan whispers into my ear. “I didn’t betray you.”
“It certainly looks that way. All this time, you’ve been working for the Phoenix. You’re the one who helped Jonathan and Daniel escape from prison.” My eyes widen, and I push away from him. “You’re the one responsible for Mr. Darwitt’s death, aren’t you?”
A burst of red surrounds him as his anger bleeds into the air. “I did what I had to, like you. The Elite need to pay for what they’ve done to us. I won’t be a slave anymore.”
His words ring true. How can I accuse him when I was one of Icarus’s pawns, too? But I don’t care what he did in the past or the fact he helped Jonathan and Daniel escape. What stings is his betrayal. He didn’t just keep secrets from me. Our whole friendship has been a lie. My heart hardens with rage, but a tiny prick of guilt stills my thoughts. This must be how Keenan feels.
When I don’t respond, he lowers his voice. “Listen, I’ve spoken with the Phoenix on your behalf. I’ve told him you can be convinced to work alongside us. I know you don’t want to be a slave, either, Moira. It’s better for all of us if you join us. Please, think about it.”
My eyes narrow as a single thought sears my mind. I’ll do no such thing.
His fingers unwind from around my wrists, and he steps back. For the first time since I arrived, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. Another wave of tranquility washes away my fury that I can’t even summon a glare at him for affecting my emotions. After a moment, I accept the serenity, drawing it further inside. I can’t break at the sight of Icarus. He thinks he’s won, but I’ll die before I let him. Evan retraces his steps and knocks on the door once before opening it. He stares off into the room, waiting for me to move. I inch forward, biding my time.
When I near the corner, I step into the room and lift my gaze, knowing exactly what I’ll see. Icarus will sit behind his desk, wearing one of his pristine suits as usual. The light streaming in from the large window will highlight his blond hair, and he’ll greet me with his typical smile, the one only mimicking civility.
But when my eyes adjust to my surroundings, a different man looms before me. He stands behind the desk, with his legs apart and his arms crossed over his chest. Tension tightens his large shoulders. Though he wears a suit, his jacket rests against the back of the chair, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He lacks the height of someone li
ke Jonathan or Keenan, but his bulk accentuates his presence. The short black hair on top of his head makes his ears stick out a little.
A current of dark emotions trickle out from his control, filling the room with black strands, tinged with gold. I nearly choke as invisible fingers wrap around my throat and squeeze the life out of me. Images flash in my head. Instead of Icarus’s office, the dark, moist walls of a cellar surround me. A soft glow flickers in front from the lantern on the floor. I can sense him, even if I can’t see him. His scent—leather, sweat, and the oranges he loves to eat—mixes with the musky earth. The crack of a whip punctuates the air a moment before pain seizes my back. I cry out and dig my nails into the ground.
He whispers into my ear. “Get up, whore.”
I blink, and the image fades. But the sharp sting of the whip remains. Several of the scars on my back tingle with the memory. My body may have healed, but the wounds in my mind still fester. The calm Evan had instilled in me vanishes, burned away by the encroaching lava. I thought I was rid of him. Jonathan had made sure of that by persuading me to kill him. I had watched him die at my feet. He’s dead.
Yet, there he stands.
Though he has yet to turn around, I know it’s him. The flavour of his mind has haunted me all these months. A mind like his is not something you forget. I fumble backwards and shake my head as disbelief clouds my thoughts, making me doubt everything.
“No.”
At the sound of my voice, he lowers his arms and turns around. His black eyes settle on me without sparing a glance at Evan. He stares with a blank expression on his face. No accusation. No glint of murder in his eyes. Not even surprise. Only two black orbs sucking me into their vortex. Why is he not ordering my death at this instant?
My back hits a wall, and in a haze, I realize it’s Evan behind me. The heat of his chest presses into my back, and calm trickles into me once more. With nowhere else to go, I stare back. My gaze drops to his neck, searching for a scar. Unblemished skin peeks out from beneath his collar. Questions form a whirlwind of confusion inside. How did he survive? Where has he been hiding all this time?
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You should be dead.”
“So should you.” Scott’s expression hardens, and mockery punctuates his next word. “Twice.”
17
Scott’s expression remains the same, and his eyes stay fixed on me. “Close the door.”
The sharp command catches me off guard. I glance back at Evan in time to see him retreat from the room. The door clicks closed, and my chest swells as I fumble for another breath. Within a second, Scott invades my mind, his presence worse than the times Icarus had entered the space. His consciousness fills me until I don’t know where I begin, as if I’m merely an extension of his existence and not my own being.
He travels across the grass, and each step presses the green blades into the earth, leaving deep footprints. I try to block him out, recalling the times I had entered his mind. He had used frightening creatures to chase me away. I focus on the animal with red eyes. A black shape appears, morphing into the appearance of a large dog. I summon sharp fangs and command the creature to attack Scott. He doesn’t even glance at the dog. With a flick of his wrist, the animal vanishes.
His voice fills my head. You never were good at blocking. If you behave, I might show you how.
I cringe and cover my ears with my hands, trying to impede the sound of his voice. His words reverberate and sink into my landscape, burrowing deep inside my consciousness. One word in particular whispers in the wind. Behave. I grit my teeth, and the clouds above him swarm in response to my irritation. I’m no longer his, yet he still acts as if I’m his to command. And a part of me wants to obey. If I can learn how to properly block other empaths from my mind, I could become unstoppable.
When he reaches the stairs, he stares into the cavity below him. Your landscape has improved.
My jaw relaxes, and a strange sense of pride straightens my spine. “Are you here to critique and admire? Or are you searching for something?”
Why use words when you can use your mind?
Rage swells inside me, annoyed with his evasion.
“That’s not an answer!”
If you seek answers, then enter my mind. He descends the labyrinth of stairs, guided by an unseen force. Or are you afraid?
I wrap my arms around my chest as a shiver takes hold. My fear taints my landscape. The sky above him darkens, casting everything in shadows. Icarus would have chuckled at my show of weakness or, if I were lucky, he would have pitied me. But Scott will use it against me. I force my arms down at my sides and rein in my dread before it completely transforms my layout. The sky lightens to a dull grey, and a bitter wind whips past him.
His lips twist in disgust. Weak and afraid.
My anger flares at his insult. “No, I’m not!”
Prove it!
With a growl of frustration, I plunge into his mind and smack into a wall of resistance. At the same time, he finds a door in my landscape and barrels through. Memories whirl around the cavern, revealing the past year to him. He picks the ones of Keenan and pries them apart, digging deeper into my relationship with the detective. He views the first time Keenan and I met, and discards the memory with a sweep of his hand. Images of our investigation tumble forward and vanish. He only slows when he finds the memory of the first time Keenan and I were intimate. He runs his fingers through the images, sifting for my feelings.
In only a few minutes, he has managed to see everything. His derision tarnishes my thoughts and blemishes my love for Keenan, the one thing purely mine. I know he mocks me beneath his blank façade, wondering how someone could ever fall in love with a concubine. But more importantly, how could I, an empath, fall in love with someone like the detective? My blood surges with the injustice of it all.
I punch through the invisible barrier surrounding his mind, and my voice cracks like thunder. Those memories are mine! Not yours!
The scenes dissolve, and he lowers his hands. One corner of his mouth quirks up in a hint of a smirk as his pleasure on hearing me speak mentally in his mind spills onto his landscape. He exits the cavern and continues down the stairs. I scurry across the forest floor, searching for ways to distract him. Dead leaves crunch beneath my shoes, and my steps bounce with wicked intent. Through my excitement, I scan the shadows close to the ground. A cold breeze slinks across my skin, raising the small hairs at the nape of my neck. After all this time, his mind still unsettles me.
Scott reaches the room containing my memories of Icarus. The door opens with ease, despite the locks I had placed. He peruses the images of my past before moving onto the recent ones. When he disengages my emotions from the memories, I cringe at the nakedness of my feelings toward Icarus. I turn my attention away, unable to face them head-on, and focus on my own hunt. Unease snakes up my spine as my eyes dart side-to-side. By now, he should have sent some creature after me. The fact he hasn’t means he’s welcoming me to explore. Or he knows I won’t find what I’m looking for.
I snap my gaze forward and lengthen my stride, breaking out into a run. Branches whip past me and threaten to tear my clothes. One snaps in my face, but I ignore the sting. The moon guides my way, and I soon stumble upon a clearing. A small cabin stands in the centre, tendrils of smoke slithering up from the chimney.
I halt at the edge of the clearing and catch my breath, pushing the hair from my face. Several pairs of red eyes watch me from the surrounding trees. They mimic me as I take a few steps forward, their dark shapes taking form as they emerge from the forest. They flash their teeth, and a deep growl rumbles across the space. I narrow my eyes, knowing he’s hiding something in the cabin, and continue my approach. One creature snaps its jaw at me as I pass.
In my mind, he arrives at the bottom of my landscape. He crouches and peers down at the water. I halt, no longer interested in the cabin and what it contains. His hand slopes forward, and he extends his fingers. Panic seizes me, and I abandon
his mind and enter my own, unable to bear the thought of him touching my subconscious. My nose breaks the water’s surface, causing ripples to spread across the pool. My face emerges with my breasts hovering below the waterline. I stare up at him in a silent challenge, a devious smile gracing my lips. At the sight of me, Scott snatches his hand back and shoots up to his feet.
My shoulders relax as he vanishes from my landscape.
I retreat from my mind, my nostrils flaring wide as I steady my breathing. While Scott invaded my privacy, I must have collapsed. With my palms flat on the floor, I kneel with my head hung low. My body sags with exhaustion. I scowl, appalled by how weak I appear. His shoes creep up at the edge of my vision. I snap my head up and glare at him. Anger rolls off me in waves, yet he stands, unaffected. He crouches low, resting his forearms on his knees. My gaze breaks away from his as he leans close to my ear.
His breath stirs my hair as he speaks. “The strong flourish under adversity. Remember that, Moira.”
His voice, so quiet compared to when he spoke in my mind, resounds with a hidden message. He doesn’t think I’m weak. The revelation hits me hard in the chest, and I struggle for air. He leans back, and our eyes lock on one another. I wish I could see into him the way he sees me, strip him bare until he’s nothing but a vulnerable shell exposed to my scrutiny. But I can’t. His mind remains inaccessible. I only know what he shows me, the mask he wears. Just like Icarus. He rises to his feet and strolls toward the window, turning his back on me.
Rise of the Phoenix Page 22
