by Hati Bell
Cally shut her magazine and grabbed another one from the pile. “Benn helped Logan out with the installation of the new computer system. Tonight is the re-opening. Benn’s going to support Logan. He practically organized the re-opening all by himself.”
She picked at a loose thread of the dress. “I didn’t know about the re-opening,” she muttered. Surely Drake would like to be there for his brother as well, though he hadn’t mentioned it. Did that mean he didn’t want her there? Was he bringing someone else? Jealousy cut through her like a jagged knife when she was reminded of the vision of him and Jade. No. There had to be another explanation.
“I wished someone could organize my wedding as well,” Cally chimed in. “Then I could outsource all of the planning and wouldn’t have to stress so much. We don’t even have a location yet.”
Amber pulled the dress over her hips, as she had a thought. “You could use Matteo’s ballroom if you’d like.”
“It would be the perfect spot!” Pinky agreed. “It’s big, but very elegant as well. The crystal chandeliers, the silk wallpaper…I could go on for an hour.”
Cally’s shoulders slumped. “We can’t afford Matteo’s ballroom. Or any room in this place, for a matter a fact. We’re still saving up to buy our own house.”
“I’ll talk to Matteo.”
“No need,” Pinky said, a gleam in her eyes. “According to phoenix law, everything your promesi owns is yours as well. Which means including this house.”
“Really?”
“Being besties with a law student has its perks.”
“And how do I look?” Amber asked after she’d put on the silver pumps Pinky handed her.
Pinky’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. What happened?”
She followed Pinky’s gaze to blue and purple marks on her arms and legs. “Faey is teaching me how to fight. Phoenix style, as she calls it. So far I’ve mainly seen the hard floor of the dojo.” She was about to mention the progress she was finally making when her door opened. Faey stood in her doorway in her usual black tights and tank top. This time it said, ‘Hell hath no fury like me’.
Faey frowned when she saw Cally and Pinky. “It’s time.” It was her usual greeting before a gruesome sparring session.
This time, however, Amber wouldn’t let her get away with her surly attitude. “I have a party tonight, Faey. Sorry. I just heard about it myself.” Faey stayed silent, but her cold eyes said more than a thousand words. Well, too bad. She hadn’t forgiven her yet for what she’d done to Benedict.
“Whatever. I’m not gonna invest any time and energy in someone with other priorities than, say… surviving,” she snapped. “Don’t come to me crying when you end up in an early grave. Oh, and in case you were wondering what my reaction then would be? That would be ‘I told you so’.”
“When you end up in a grave?” Pinky asked, sounding alarmed. “What is she talking about?”
Amber groaned internally and sent Faey a withering look.
Of course it didn’t even faze the phoenix. She looked as cool and collected as always, her gaze sliding over the clothes and shoes littering the floor.
“I just had a nightmare,” Amber admitted. When Pinky wanted to protest she held up her hand. “Can we please discuss this tomorrow? I just want to enjoy a normal night without any drama and without having to think about nightmares.”
“Did you tell Matteo?” Pinky insisted.
“Yes, both to him and Drake. I know what I’m doing. I’m not going to run around like a headless chicken and keep things to myself like I did last time.”
“You promise?” Cally asked, sounding worried.
“I promise. Now, do you have something with sleeves?” Faey remained standing in the doorway, looking somewhat hesitant. “Is there anything else, Faey?” Logan was right. Someone had to point out to Faey that it wasn’t okay to hurt the people around her, no matter the traumas in her past. Matteo wasn’t doing her any favors by sweeping everything under the carpet.
“I just came from Benedict again. He’s doing fine,” Faey said begrudgingly.
That didn’t sound like an apology. “No thanks to you.”
“It won’t happen again.” She curled up her lip. “The draconi reminded me of someone.”
“Of whom?”
“None of your business.”
The Romanovs. It had to be. There was no one Faey hated more. It would also explain her reaction to Logan and why she had lashed out a week ago. It was high time for her to have a night out. Into the real world, to discover there weren’t murderous archers on every corner. “Why don’t you join us?”
Faey narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need your pity.”
“And we don’t need your self-pity,” Pinky retorted. “Seems to me you have two choices: stay here all miserable and lonely or join us on a night in to town. Personally, I don’t care if you stay here, but I suppose it would be good for Amber to have a phoenix at her back.”
Faey cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t like me, do you?”
Pinky smiled sweetly. “What was your first clue?”
Instead of being insulted, Faey actually grinned. “I like the fact that you don’t like me. Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Pinky said, her eyes critically assessing Faey’s tights and tank top. “We’re going to a party. Not boot camp. Let’s find you something fitting first, Xena.”
“Who is this Xena?” Faey mumbled.
***
They arrived at the waiting line in front of the Oasis a little before midnight. Amber had eventually put on a black blouse with sleeves that hid the bruises on her arms. Her black stockings under her red mini skirt concealed the ones on her legs.
Faey had refused to budge from her usual attire of leather pants, tank top, and combat boots. She resembled someone who worked in a goth club and at night fought vampires in a cemetery.
“Xena is tough,” Amber explained while they were waiting in the line. She showed Faey a picture on her phone.
“And sexy,” Pinky added. As usual she looked great in her pink halter top and skinny jeans. Cally was dressed in a summer dress with a flower print.
“That round weapon looks interesting,” Faey said, a frown marring her face.
“That’s a chakram,” Amber said, wishing she even had a fraction of the warrior princess in her. Just enough of it to get her out of a jam when needed.
“Never heard of it,” Faey said. “And I spend the past twenty years learning how to fight. Boxing in Russia, karate in China, capoeira in Brazil, sword fighting in Japan. Name it and I have studied it.”
Pinky folded her arms over her chest. “And why was that? Why did you spend all that time learning how to fight?”
Faey copied her stance. “I don’t owe you any explanation, you little pink ball of fluff.”
“You did not just call me that.” Pinky bristled.
Amber quickly placed herself between them. She really hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a night with her playing the referee. “Remember our deal, Faey?”
“Of course. How could I ever forget? Doesn’t mean she gets to interrogate me.”
Cally, who had kept silent so far, softly said: “We only want to get to know you, Faey.”
Faey looked suspicious. “Why?”
“You’re a part of Amber’s life, helping her out. So we want to get to know you. That’s what friends do.”
Seeing the palette of emotions on Faey’s face would have been almost comical, had it not been really tragic. Amber sighed. The leather-clad phoenix really had no idea how to act around people. However, suddenly something in Faey’s stance changed. Amber attributed it to the soothing Cally effect.
“I learned to fight out of necessity,” Faey said. “I had to excel in every known martial art so I would be better than the Romanovs.”
Pinky frowned, obviously full of questions, but she didn’t ask a single one. Clearly she was giving Faey her space. Amber made a mental note to do research on the Romanovs. She wouldn’
t just stand by watching while they came after Faey again. No one deserved to live like that.
They had finally reached the front of the line. The security checked their IDs. Pinky and Cally went inside, and Amber was just about to follow them when a security guard stopped Faey.
“Show me your ID.”
“I don’t have any on me,” Faey said.
Amber hadn’t thought of that. With Faey’s history she might never have had to have one before. Did a phoenix even get registered?
The security guard was like a pile of muscles and towered over Faey, who wasn’t exactly little herself. “Too bad, sweetheart. You’re not getting in.”
“I’m not sweet,” Faey growled.
The guard’s eyes roamed over Faey’s body, a crooked grin appeared on his face. “I bet you’re not, love. I’m sure you’re a bad girl. A very bad, bad, girl.”
Oh, crap. It was like watching a train crash about to happen, but knowing she couldn’t stop it.
“You have no idea just how bad,” Faey said, with a pout. Her hand shot out and ended up between his legs. They heard an unmanly squeal—an actual squeal—and then the poor chap dropped onto his knees. “I’m a redhead, asshole. No one gets to treats me like a dumb blonde. Be glad I left my whip at home.” Her hand made a twisting motion and the eyes of the guard almost bulged out of their sockets.
Grumbling sounds emerged from the queue behind them, and it wouldn’t be long before the security guard would get backup. Just great. Her night out was about to end before it even started. “I think you’ve made your point. Let him go, Faey.”
“Yeah, listen to her,” an ice-cold voice said. Logan loomed over the guard, at the door opening. Clutching his arm was a blonde in a tight red dress, high heels, and a ton of mascara. According to her gold necklace her name was Barbara. Logan stopped the security guards rushing outside. “These are my guests. Unfortunately, the mistress without a whip belongs with them. Let them through.”
“Hi, Logan,” Amber greeted him with a smile. She could have saved herself the trouble.
His fuming eyes were set on Faey, like a spider watching a fly. “Is this the only way you can deal with men?”
Faey was inspecting her nails. “What was I supposed to do? Bake him a cake?”
Barbara nodded in earnest. “The fastest way to a man’s heart is by making him food,” she said, giving Logan an adoring look.
“No, it’s not,” Faey said in a sugary-sweet tone. “The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his chest. Roseanne’s wise words.”
Amber gave her a look. “Roseanne?” Was Faey actually quoting an eighties sitcom?
Faey shrugged. “She’s the only female on the telly I could stand. At least Roseanne has personality,” she said with a pointed look at Logan’s latest conquest.
“Barbie doesn’t need a personality,” Logan rebuked. “She has other qualities. She’s beautiful and feminine. Unlike some other so-called women I know.”
Barbie smiled, apparently actually believing Logan just gave her a compliment.
Red spots dotted Faey’s cheeks. “You conceited peacock,” she hissed.
“Frigid witch,” he snapped back. After one last icy look he left with Barbie on his arm.
Faey’s eyes shot at his back like little daggers. “He reminds me of someone.”
Whoever it was, Amber hoped they would never cross paths again. “Don’t forget our deal.”
Faey tucked a curl behind her ear. “I never promised to be nice to that peacock. Being polite and shit to you and your merry band of friends is my daily quote of niceness.” She spun around and eyed the bar.
Amber followed her gaze. She tightened when she saw Jade manning the bar, mixing drinks for the busy crowd. “Where are you going?” Usually, when Faey gave her her back it meant she was off to kick some butt, usually hers in an impromptu sparring session. She could only imagine what havoc she could wreak in the Oasis.
“Relax, little flame. I’m just going to get a drink. Didn’t you tell me to express my feelings more during one of your fluffy flower-power talks?”
Sadly, she had. “How nice, and so not you, to actually follow my advice. But how exactly is drinking going to help with dealing with your feelings?”
“Like I said. That pretty boy reminded me of someone. I don’t like memories. Worries should be drowned in alcohol. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” After one last scowl towards Logan who was standing somewhere in the back, she sauntered off.
Amber saw Logan following Faey with his eyes. He wasn’t the only man in the club. Then it hit her: why Faey seemed so familiar to her when they had never met before. She turned around, finding Pinky standing next to her.
“That leather-clad phoenix sure is something.”
“You have no idea,” Amber said. “You know, I just remembered I’ve had a vision about her with Logan.”
Pinky snorted. “Well, that can only mean one thing.”
It seemed like a logical conclusion. Visions featuring Logan were usually about him with a half-naked woman. In the shower of a sports club, in the corner of a garage, or simply in a bed. “Not this time. This one seemed different, though I can’t put my finger on it.”
“I’ve asked Matteo about Faey, but he’s awfully tight-lipped about her. The first time he just traced away. The second time I mentioned Faey he threatened to ruin my internship. Since my grades are more important to me than his crazy sister, I let it go.”
Amber knew Matteo had arranged an internship at a prestigious law firm for her. “I can’t believe he did that.”
Pinky shrugged. “He’s an arrogant bastard who thinks himself above inferi. Just like any other phoenix I have met so far. He will do anything to protect his family. To him, using his power and connections is as common as breathing.” She waved at a group that stood near a table. “Classmates,” she explained. “See that cute guy with the blazer? I promised him a dance. See you later.”
Amber saw her friend in a whole new perspective. Unlike Amber, Pinky had become a fierce, focused student, who knew exactly what she wanted. She envied her a little for that.
With a sigh she sat at a leather couch in the far back corner. Fitting, considering that her entire life seemed to play out in some obscure corner right now. No classmates for her, like with Pinky. No fiance like Cally. Her own boyfriend hadn’t even told her about the opening tonight, let alone asked her with.
A few minutes later Logan walked by and sat across her, a cocktail in his hands. “On the house,” he said.
She took a sip and her throat immediately started to burn. “Thanks. Congrats on the opening, by the way. It looks great in here.”
He leaned with his arms on his knees. “I know.”
“Is Drake coming tonight?” she asked casually.
“Everyone important to me is. That is, almost everyone,” he corrected himself.
A quick glance around the club showed her Benn was sitting near the DJ, Cally in his lap. “You mean Drake is on his way?”
“With almost I meant that my mom is missing.”
She remembered meeting Gaby Stark like it had happened yesterday. His mother was a shadow of the singer she had once been. Sadly she had exchanged her spot on the stage for drinks in her front yard. “I’m sorry that-”
He lifted a hand. “I don’t want your sorry, O’Neill. I want you to listen. My mom isn’t here tonight because she barely leaves the house since Drake’s dad died. People react differently to loss. After my father had left us she started drinking and partying. Anything to dull the pain. That was the beginning of her path of self-destruction. It’s hard to look back at your life and realize that you have lived with a sadist who enjoyed hurting his child. Drake’s father was supposed to be my mother’s second chance. However he was a bigger lush than she was and ended up under a truck. When my stepfather died, she started drinking again. My beautiful, talented mother was broken once again.”
She couldn’t stand the pain in his eyes
any longer. It was a rare occasion when Logan showed anyone how he felt. “Message received. You want me to let Drake go.”
“On the contrary, O’Neill. It’s too late to let my brother go. You do that and he’ll lose even more of his self-control.”
“Even more?”
“You know I like you,” Logan continued. “We’ve been through a lot.”
She suppressed a chill when she remembered the moment Logan’s father had threatened to stab his eye out. “How could I ever forget?” she mumbled.
“You, I like, but my brother, I love. He’s one of the three people on this Earth I would give my life for. So I can’t just stand by and watch him destroy his life. Your absence had changed him. He’s done things, taken risks, he got away with—that is, so far.”
An image of Drake’s battered body hanging from the ceiling emerged in her head. “Not always,” she said softly.
“Not always,” Logan conceded. “But he’s still alive. However, I fear one day he will go too far. Take a risk that’s too big.” He gave her a sad smile. “Don’t let it get that far, O’Neill. Stop my brother from becoming a shadow. If you can’t do that, I’ll have to find another way to help him.”
With those parting words, she was alone once again. His words were like acid in her stomach and brought back the image of Drake and Jade. One she had refused to think about so far. Was Jade tending the bar at the Oasis really a coincidence? Had Drake gotten her the job? Was she getting paranoid? She wished she could still talk to Bryan. It was at times like this she missed her brother the most. It was so unfair that he’d died so young and she might live forever. As always, whenever she thought of her eldest brother, it felt as if a spear were lodged in her heart. Perhaps Faey was right. Perhaps she needed to drown her sorrow in alcohol.
She chugged her drink. Her throat started to burn again and the booze transformed into a liquid fire coursing through her veins. Odd. Delicious. And hot. So damn hot. Sweat was pouring down her back, as the world began to spin. The sleeves of her blouse suddenly felt suffocating.
She put the drink down and went up on to the dance floor. She squeezed herself into the crowd, dancing, swirling, laughing. It was like she couldn’t stop smiling. Something inside her broke free, and for the first time she could let go. She dreamily looked up at the lights above the dance floor. They were so shiny and pretty. So pretty. What would they look like from atop the bar?
