3 Minutes to Midnight: Urban Fantasy Midnight Trilogy Book 1
Page 22
The paper was old, edges fraying, with dark splattered stains marring the surface. In the far recesses of her mind, she recognised the shiny surface of a photograph, and she was overcome with a sudden need to see what secrets it held.
Her fingers fumbled ineptly, shaking so badly she was terrified she’d rip it. Ethan’s large hand appeared before her, and she hesitated for a second before handing it over. She watched him unfold it, gently, as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.
The picture revealed itself and her breath left her completely. The smiling green eyes of an innocent child and the loving gaze of two adoring parents. The scene burned itself into her mind, searing open old wounds even as new, deeper scars were forming.
So many memories. So much happiness. All buried deep in order for that innocent child to survive.
A scream of anguish left her throat raw.
Strong arms enveloped her as the tears began to fall in earnest, blurring her vision. They tried to pull her close, but she resisted, recognising his scent. Recognising the arms that had restrained her while her parents sacrificed themselves.
With a cry of fury, she beat her fists against the solid wall of Ethan’s chest. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to make him feel even a fraction of the pain that was shredding her apart. But he didn’t budge. He stood before her, making no move to stop the blows, arms ready and waiting to hold her.
Eventually the sobbing slowed and a bone-aching weariness washed over her. She slumped against him, empty and shivering. The heat that burned through his blood-soaked t-shirt did nothing to chase the chill away.
“It should have been me.”
Ethan’s body tensed at her whispered words, and he pulled back so suddenly Phoenix almost fell over. He grabbed her shoulders in a bruising grip as fire blazed in his brown eyes.
“Don’t you dare say that.”
Anger wrapped around her like a familiar blanket and she clung to it eagerly.
“It should have been me! My blood, Ethan. It should have been my blood that closed the tear. And you stopped me.”
“Dammit, Phoenix. Don’t you get it?” Ethan yelled, his voice cracking. “I had to do it. I couldn’t lose you.”
He pulled her forcefully to him. His lips crushed hers and stopped her anger in its tracks. His hands were like fire as they pressed against her back, pulling her tight against him. The fierce eagerness of his mouth created a luscious contrast to the softness of his lips and her head swam with the muskiness of his scent.
She couldn’t think straight. The cold that had overtaken her body shifted to molten lava as shock was replaced by an almost primal need. She gave herself over to the sensations, and for a moment, the world became little more than lips, and teeth, and hands.
And then once again the world was empty.
Ethan stood away from her, breathing ragged with an uncertain look in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists by his sides, almost as if he needed to stop himself from reaching out for her.
The silence in the chamber was deafening.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears, and her lips burned with the memory of him. She was suddenly acutely aware of all the eyes that watched them.
“We need to get out of here.” Shade’s voice was cold as he pushed past her on his way to the stairs.
Phoenix hovered by the bedroom door, nervously twining the platinum medallion around her fingers. For the first time since she’d come to the pub, she was unsure of her welcome.
She’d stayed away for twenty-four hours, but even with Lily’s assurances, she needed to see for herself that Abi was okay. And she needed to say goodbye.
Ignoring the sickening twist of her stomach, she pushed open the door and peeked hesitantly into Abi’s bedroom.
“I was wondering how long you were planning on loitering outside the door.” Abi smiled up at her from the bed where she lay engulfed by soft, fluffy cushions spanning the colours of the rainbow.
Her naturally pale skin held a deathly hue that made her seem almost green. Fortunately, the shade nicely accentuated the mottled bruising which formed a patchwork over her cheek. Her arm was held tight against her body in a sling. Much of the damage had been minor or superficial, thankfully. But psychological damage was always harder to quantify.
That had been Darius’s pleasure – psychological torture. It could last so much longer than mere physical pain, and hurt in so many ways the body couldn’t.
“You’re awake.” Phoenix fidgeted nervously. “I wasn’t sure you would be.” The attempt at casual sounded pathetic even to her own ears, but for the first time, she didn’t know quite what to say to her best friend.
Sorry I’ve lied to you for all these years?
Or, how about, sorry that lie almost got you killed?
“Would you come sit on the bloody bed. You’re making me feel like I’ve got the plague.” Abi’s tone was light and teasing as she scooted over awkwardly, but her eyes were serious as she watched her friend.
Phoenix stepped fully into the room and steeled herself for what was to come as she shut the door behind her. She deserved whatever Abi threw at her.
She perched on the edge of the bed, itching to reach out and take her friend’s hand. To apologise. To find any way that might make her understand. But she kept her hands clasped firmly in her lap.
“I should have told you –”
“Yes, you should have.” Abi’s blue eyes turned to steel.
Phoenix looked down at her hands, unable to face the anger that blazed behind those eyes. “I wanted to apologise. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but I needed you to know how sorry I am before I left.”
“You’re leaving?” Abi sat bolt upright, only just managing to disguise the wince of pain.
“I didn’t think you’d want me around after –”
“Phoenix,” Abi said firmly, “Phoenix, look at me.”
The hand that grabbed her arm looked so frail and pale, yet it held an unexpected strength as Abi demanded her attention. “I’m not angry that I got hurt – well okay, I am, but not at you – I'm angry that you didn’t trust me.”
The words registered, but they didn’t make sense. Confused, Phoenix raised her gaze to meet blue eyes that had softened considerably, but still held firm with resolve.
“Phoenix, I don’t care if you’re a vampire, or whatever the hell you are –” Abi stopped for a second, a confused look on her face. “Actually, what are you?”
“I –”
“No, no,” Abi shook her head, waving the thought away with her hands, “it doesn’t matter. You can tell me later.”
It was Phoenix’s turn to shake her head as her confusion increased by the minute. “Abi, what do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters.”
“Why? I know who you are, Phoenix. You’re my best friend. Sure, you’re irritating and stubborn as hell, but how does any of that change?”
You’re my best friend? Present tense?
Phoenix stared at Abi in complete and utter disbelief, the tears that burned the back of her eyes coming on so suddenly she had to swallow hard to hold them back. But Abi wasn’t planning to let her off the hook that easily.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you should have told me.” The stern look was back, chastising her like a bold child that had just written all over the newly painted white walls. “You should have trusted me.”
There was nothing Phoenix could say in her defence. How could she explain to Abi that she’d grown so used to the idea of being rejected that it never even occurred to her to try? Of course, with Abi being a human, it was slightly different, but that didn’t make it right.
As Abi continued to berate her, Phoenix watched her friend silently. There were so many things she wanted to share with this wonderful human being. A huge part of her wanted to embrace the acceptance and forget everything else. But she couldn’t. And Abi wasn’t going to like what she had to say next.
“He’s still out there,” Pho
enix said softly. “Darius. He’s out there and he’s dangerous.”
Tentatively, she took Abi’s hand in hers and allowed, for once, the full force of her fear to show on her face. No more hiding. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants. And now he knows he can get to me through you.”
Abi squeezed her hand tightly. “What are you trying to say, Phoenix?”
“Ethan knows a place, a safe house you can go to. It’s run by shifters. They can protect you there. He won’t be able to find you.”
“No.” Abi pulled her hand away and sat further up in the bed. “I have a life here. A business. I’m not going to run scared.”
“Dammit, Abi. You could have been killed!”
“Don’t you think I know that? I was there, remember.”
“This isn’t your fight.”
“Yes, it is.”
Abi relaxed against the headboard of the bed with a look of utter surety settling over her features. “I know what he’s planning, Phoenix. You can’t tell me this isn’t my fight. It’s humans that will suffer if he succeeds. We have more right to be counted in this than anyone.”
And just like that, every argument Phoenix had was taken from her. Because Abi was right. “I can’t watch you die too,” she whispered as the tears began to fall for what felt like the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours.
Abi smiled as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “Then you’ll have to teach me how to kick some serious ass.”
Phoenix laughed, her first genuine laugh in what felt like a very long time.
The gentle smile on her friend’s face turned devilish.
“So, when are we going to talk about that kiss?”
*****
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Author Note
Thank you for joining me on this new adventure through Ireland’s hidden supernatural world. If you enjoyed this book, I would be very grateful if you could leave a brief review (it can be as short as you like) on the site where you purchased your copy.
As an author, reviews are the most powerful tools in my arsenal when it comes to getting attention for my books. Honest feedback goes a long way in increasing visibility and helping me to reach other readers like you, so thank you in advance!
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A Quick Thanks
I’m sure most readers will skip this section, but I couldn’t finish the book without saying thank you to the people who are most important to me. I’ll keep it short and sweet, so no one can accuse me of getting too mushy.
For my Mam, who instilled a love of books in me from as far back as I can remember, and will read this book from front to back even though she has zero interest in urban fantasy. And my Dad, who probably won’t read a word of it but will be proud of me nonetheless.
For my partner and my baby girl, who support me in everything I do (well the baby doesn’t really have a choice, but she’s adorable so she has to get a mention). I hope I make you proud.
And for Sandra, who I can always count on to be my cheerleader. Thank you for being the best sounding board through this process.
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