by Tina Holland
Tierra turned and walked to where he was held. She licked at the wounds on his wrist before nuzzling against his leg. She bared her teeth, growling at Michael. That was his girl.
“Don’t do this.” Z held hope Tierra might change her mind and leave with him.
Her green eyes looked forlorn.
“I love you. Don’t do this.” He, whom the scientists had never broken in their labs, no matter the torture, begged.
Tierra hung her head low and padded down the path. When she reached the edge of the circle, she transformed and turned back to him. “I love you,” Z heard her whisper on the wind.
Tierra swung back to the fire and walked into the flames. She was engulfed; he watched in horror, her flaming figure raising its arms and crying to the moon.
“No!” Z’s scream was filled with anguish.
Gray smoke rose and swirled around the witches, each woman lifting her head and inhaling the smoke deep into her lungs. One by one they fell to the ground. The wolves lifted them and carried the nude women away. What the hell was wrong with these people?
Z dared not tear his gaze away from the ruins of the fire. Time stood still until the guardians doused the smoldering flames out with water. Z saw Tierra’s charred corpse clinging to the stake in the middle.
Nizhoni stepped forward wearing tribal colors of the Mojave and ushered the guardians forward. The guardians took the burned body and began to wrap her in wet cloth. Tierra’s body was like hot coals, bursting the cloth into spotted flames.
“They are wrapping her in linen soaked in a potent brew of witch hazel, chamomile and lavender.”
“Let us leave this place.” Z looked away. He refused to watch as his lover’s crisped body was covered.
“Patience. We need to wait for my mate.” Mike’s voice was one of pride.
Z’s shoulders slumped, and suspicious wetness blurred his vision. He was not patient. Z was ready to go back to the compound. Being a prisoner didn’t matter. He would endure the tests and torture, biding his time until death claimed him.
Nizhoni finished blessing Tierra before her body was laid back on the ash coals. Rocks and soil were piled and nestled around her body. An oil wick was ignited in the middle of the mound. The single flame flickered and taunted him.
When Nizhoni reached them, she stepped in front of Z. “Do not be sad, mercenary. Tierra is still with us. She lives on in the flame.”
Z was sick of this magical bullshit. “Whatever. Let’s go.” He tugged on the padlocked chains.
“You heard the man, let’s go.” Mike began walking off.
“But he doesn’t understand,” Nizhoni insisted.
“Of course he does. I explained the ritual to him, didn’t I, big boy?” Mike patted him like a dog.
“Yes.” He ground the word out.
“Is this because of the phoenix? Do you abhor her so much?” Nizhoni touched his arm, holding him from following his captor.
“Is she why all this is done?” He nodded to the ashes.
“Of course. There is no other way.” Nizhoni’s eyes glistened, but Z didn’t believe she held any sympathy for him.
“Then I hate her.” He passed Mike, yanking so hard on the chain Mike stumbled before regaining composure.
*
The three of them walked away into the night. The two wolves led the way under the moonlit sky. They took two days to arrive back at the compound, with the wolves shifting at night and dragging Z until he thought he would collapse. He was starving by the time they arrived. He needed blood or meat. His fangs dropped and his vision clouded.
The compound hadn’t changed in the years since his escape. The security system seemed the same as Michael swiped his hip over the panels, and doors opened until they reached the prison beneath.
“Do I get my same cell?” Z asked.
“I’ve got a nice silver-lined cage picked out for you. It’s been blessed and all the rituals performed.” Mike yanked the chain forward and Z stumbled.
When they reached the row of cages, he was put into the last one. The cell was decent, with a full-size bed in it and all the comforts of home. Even though it was much nicer than the last time he was confined here, it remained a prison.
“This one was my room, right after I turned; you will be comfortable here. But first we’ll need a sample.” Z could’ve sworn that giant syringe wasn’t there a moment ago. Mike ruthlessly stuck the needle in his neck, drawing too much of Z’s desperately needed blood.
The automatic door opened and shut behind Z. The moment he was secured in the jail, his chains fell free and whisked out of the cell.
“Still have the ghosts in the place, huh?” Z looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the spirits.
“They have their purpose,” Mike said before he walked away.
Z lay down on the bed, but he couldn’t relax with the only images before him being those of Tierra at the stake.
Z’s stomach growled. He would likely eat the next thing to walk near his cell.
Chapter Seven
The phoenix burst from the rock tomb in a fireball, brightening the moonless night sky. She looked down at the people below, power surging through her. She wanted to burn bright and strong, but the witches lay in wait. The cruel harpies harnessed her with their power and reined her back down to Mother Earth.
When the phoenix ceased her struggles, High Priestess Sierra stepped forward, chanting and praising the goddess for renewing the power within the coven.
Calm washed over her, and the need to destroy was reduced. Tierra forgot how much she wished to burn once she was free. The longer the coven held her, the less primitive she was. Her mother tentatively approached her.
“Drink this,” she ordered as she lifted the cup to Tierra’s lips. “My daughter, you must drink.” The priestess placed her hand on Tierra and drained energy from her.
Tierra opened her mouth, drinking the liquid. The witches released her, but she was dazed and heavy. She leaned on the altar from which the phoenix had broken free.
Sierra stepped forward and rested her hand on Tierra’s shoulder. “Lie down if you wish.” Her voice coaxed the phoenix to do as she bid.
Tierra obediently lay down on the altar, and her body entered a dream state. She drifted above her body to watch the witches chant and perform the ritual done every lunar eclipse. They stole the power of the phoenix, to live longer and retain their powers. Part of Tierra hated the ritual. The ceremony stole from her, but the larger part longed to see the coven live into the next century. Her people would not have survived without her gift. She still retained the strength of the phoenix and was able to use her influence following the lunar eclipse. Tierra felt the pull of her body as she grew weak and was lulled into deep sleep by the drugs given to her.
*
Tierra’s sleep was restless. She was starved. No, Max was the one who was hungry. Tierra shielded her eyes against the morning sun as she rose naked from the cold stones. She made her way toward the prisoner’s hut. There were no guards placed outside. Tierra saw people quickly entering their homes and avoiding her path. She ducked her head in the door to find the room empty. She crinkled her nose trying to place the scents. She smelled only the crisp air.
Tierra left the hut unhindered by the stares she gained from the people. She made her way to the temple of the phoenix. She found her mother in a state of meditation which should not be interrupted, but Tierra was impatient.
“Mother.”
Her mother’s eyes flew open.
“Why are you awake?” the priestess asked.
“I am well rested.” She needed to find Max.
“Impossible, you were only put to rest last eve.” Sierra’s look of concern did not go unnoticed.
“Last eve? How odd.” And a bit unusual. Tierra was restless but not tired.
“You usually sleep an entire moon cycle. Your early awakening concerns me.” Her mother approached and tentatively reached her hand towards her. “You are hot.”
Now Tierra was concerned.
“I must notify the council.”
“We are here.” A voice behind them spoke.
They turned to find the council of elders, a mix of witches and werewolves already entering the temple.
“Rolfe.” Her mother acknowledged the Alpha.
“Mother.” He nodded but passed Tierra.
Tierra followed her mother obediently to the adjoining council room. It was a large dome filled with circular elevated rows. The high council sat in the front on silk pillows while the rest of her people sat on the stone steps. Tierra was placed in the center, and all the council members seated around her in the circle denoting their station. She was unnerved under the scrutiny of the council.
“Phoenix,” Rolfe addressed her and the room at large. “Why have you risen before the cycle of the moon is completed?”
“Alpha.” Tierra put all reverence she could muster into her voice. Though she was the most powerful force in the room, a pack needed to maintain order, and she must defer to the Alpha. “I’m not sure. I felt a need to rise with the sun, and I’m starved.”
“Something went wrong,” a voice rumbled.
“The ritual was performed in the approved manner,” one of the witches answered.
“Perhaps the blending of lines has corrupted the spell,” another called out.
“No!” Sierra was quick to speak up. “The ritual is sound despite the subtle changes since our merger with the Lunar Pack.”
“How has the ceremony changed?” Rolfe looked as if he were evaluating the statement made by the priestess.
“We used to burn the phoenix and take all her powers in a ritual at the end of the sun cycle,” Sierra answered.
“And kill the phoenix?” Rolfe’s golden eyes widened.
“Essentially they became human. Humans are weak, so yes. There was no other way.” Her mother looked down.
“Why have we changed?” The Alpha leaned forward in his chair.
“The blending of the lines allowed the phoenix to keep some power because of her werewolf blood. She protects the coven, and she is more powerful when she rises from the ash.”
“We must return to the original spell and destroy the phoenix!” The shout echoed in the room.
“No!” Rolfe growled at the outburst.
“With all due respect, Alpha,” the Omega spoke, “your relationship with the phoenix is suspect.”
“The ritual is fine as is.” The assembly turned to see an old human woman enter the inner circle.
“What do you know of the ritual, woman?” Rolfe prodded.
“I am the oldest human in this camp, because I was the last phoenix before Princess Tierra. Perhaps the phoenix was not awakened, but the wolf.” The old woman pointed to Tierra.
Rolfe turned and looked directly at Tierra. He stepped down, lifting his nose in her direction as he walked. His gold eyes scrutinized her. Their father’s eyes.
“The old woman is right,” he spoke. “Can you not smell her?”
The werewolves among them lifted their noses and smelled the air. They broke out in laughter.
“What is it?” a bewildered voice asked.
“She is in heat!” Rolfe laughed some more.
If it weren’t for the scandal it would cause, Tierra would’ve kicked her brother on the spot. She remained still, out of respect for their father and the natural order of the pack.
“She is looking for her mate,” the Omega answered. “Her rising has nothing to do with the phoenix and everything to do with the werewolf in her.”
At the strange and disquieting look among the witches, the Omega continued. “When a bitch is in heat, she is driven toward her life mate.”
“Tierra has always gone into heat before the lunar eclipse, and we have mated her before each cycle to ensure a restful sleep. But she has only recently found her life mate.” Sierra walked up and held Tierra’s shoulder, giving her strength to speak.
“Who is this mate, sister?” Rolfe stood in front of her.
“Maximilian Z.”
There was a hush in the room.
“The mercenary hired to retrieve you?” Rolfe’s gaze glowed.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin.
“Did you know this?” he asked their mother.
Her mother lowered her gaze.
“Can you not mate with another?” Rolfe asked.
“Mating with another doesn’t always work.” Tierra put her hands on her hips.
“You cannot mate with him,” Rolfe said.
“Because he’s a flesh eater?” Tierra walked toward her brother until her nose touched his.
“No, because he’s not here.” Her brother had the gall to laugh.
The rest of the pack joined in while the witches giggled. Tierra gave into temptation and punched him in the jaw.
Her impulsive action immediately ended the laughter.
Tierra stepped back and quickly looked at her feet.
“Leave us!” The Alpha’s voice roared in the room.
The assembly quietly but reluctantly left the room.
“You too, mother,” Rolfe added.
“But--”
“Go!” he shouted.
Tierra gave her mother a small nod.
Her brother wiped the blood from his lip and spat. His eyes were blank, leaving Tierra wondering how upset he truly was.
“I’m sorry.” Tierra glanced away at the sight of his frown. “I did not mean to shame you.”
“I’m sorry to have pushed you to it.” His arms surrounded her, and Tierra released the breath she held.
“I need to go to Max.” She tried to wriggle free of his grasp.
“We have searched for him, but the wolf our cousin married is tricky.”
“I know where to find Max.” Tierra knew Max was suffering at a compound. It was his hunger she had suffered upon awakening.
“I cannot risk others leaving the mountain, now that Limikkin can pass our defenses.” Rolfe let her go and stepped back.
“I don’t need any help.” Her powers would protect her.
“I’m concerned the phoenix has awakened so early and that you have more strength that is not channeled.” Rolfe rubbed his jaw.
“Perhaps the old human was right; my waking has something to do with the wolf.”
“You’ve never before embraced the werewolf in you.”
“I’ve never needed to.” In all the years she’d been a werewolf, she was not driven to mate as others. Now her want was nearly painful.
“Do you want to mate before you travel? I’m sure Omega...” His voice trailed off.
“It will not help.”
“Mating does take the edge off.” Her brother spoke from his own experience. He had yet to find his true mate, and he might never in his lifetime.
“I’m not going to bother with another man. I need to get to Max before he suffers anymore.”
“Tierra”--he grasped her shoulders--“it may be acceptable among the witches to seek retribution for one’s mate, but I do not sanction any actions against the Mojave. Beware of those you would thwart. When you need help, you could be on your own. The Pack and Coven cannot afford to help you, and I would not risk our future to save even my sister.”
“Of course.” Tierra would expect nothing less of the Alpha.
Chapter Eight
Z sat in his cell, weak from the endless tests administered daily since he arrived. If they drew much more blood out of him he wasn’t sure he would hold on.
If the vampire had not brought him food, he would have surely starved.
So much had changed in his ten-year absence from this prison; he remembered the day well, breaking free from his cell. Overpowering a guard and killing him. He’d opened the cell doors and let all the children out. Their release created the chaos he’d been looking for, the diversion for his escape.
Apparently some children maintained the scientists’ teachings and still hunted those who were differe
nt. He remembered Michael being one of the brightest. Now he was killing off the other escapees one by one. Even Z never took jobs against the children from the compound.
Mike and Nizhoni seemed to appear as if on command, looking very sullen.
“What do you want? I’m not dead yet.” Z didn’t bother to hide his disappointment. A weight settled in his chest.
“We have to tell you something.” Nizhoni’s voice was gentle.
“I say we tell him nothing,” Mike said.
“He has a right to know.”
“Fine. You tell him, though.” Mike crossed his arms over his chest.
Z watched the pair argue and couldn’t resist the corners of his mouth turning up.
“It would seem you and Mike, well, um, are sort of related...”
Z threw back his head and laughed. When he finally stopped he looked at the couple. Their faces were solemn.
“You’re serious.” He couldn’t believe it. “I don’t believe you. I’m at least two hundred years older than you. I was around when they made you on a Petri dish. I did not donate anything to this cause.” Z gestured at his cell.
Mike remained quiet.
“It would seem that since you are the first experiment here at Fifty-One. And all the children of this facility carry your unique DNA. You seem to have all the markers that they have plus, it appears, additional shifter and vampire markers were injected into you in early childhood,” Nizhoni continued.
Z stared dumbfounded. He knew he was lab-created but he’d never suspected that.
“And the Z-virus?” He had to know.
“Humans and shifters can’t metabolize the unknown gene. The scientists hoped to create a weapon from your blood, but they found they were unable to replicate the process once your DNA was expended on their projects.” Mike finally spoke.
“You mean the test-tube children.”
“Yes. We found they tested a number of subjects, and the results were all failures. They dare not inject any children in apprehension we would either be killed or they would be forced to terminate us.”
“So does this mean you will let me go?” Z prayed only he heard the hopefulness in his tone.
