by Lucy Auburn
You could say that again, and maybe add a few choice curse words. “I just don’t get why he didn’t take all the phoenix hearts he could while he was here. What exactly was the grand plan? Why wait so long to strike?”
“That,” Ezra says, “is the pertinent question... for tomorrow. After you sleep.” Stepping forward, he reaches up to loop my hair behind my ear, and slips the journal back into his jacket pocket. “And after you and I get reacquainted in what little time we have.”
“Little time?” I raise my brows at him.
“The other guys will be pissed if I take much longer than this,” Ezra confesses. “It wouldn’t be fair, after all. We did have an agreement. Everything equal, everything shared... especially you.”
I swallow. “It does seem like if I kissed the others before dismissing them I should at least kiss you goodbye as well. In the interest of fairness.”
Grabbing my hand, Ezra laces his fingers with mine and tugs me so close that I can feel the heat of his body through my clothing.
“Though to be honest,” he says, voice roughened by arousal, “I don’t give a damn about fairness if it might come between you and me. I’ll take what I can get... and if it’s more than the others get, well, life isn’t fair and neither is the afterlife.”
Tilting my head up, I let him tease my lips with the brush of his mouth against mine, close to a kiss but not quite satisfying. A thought flits through my head, and I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “What happens if you die?”
“Ah.” He stiffens. “That.”
“Well.” I lick my lips, suddenly regretting my ill-timed curiosity. “We can save the question for after.”
“Let’s.”
Ezra’s mouth is on mine in an instant, hungry and firm. He pushes open my lips with his tongue and lays claim to every inch of me, his hand on the back of my neck coaxing me closer, forcing his way inside me. My moan is swallowed by his lips; his fingers press against my neck hard enough to make my pulse soar. Tilting his head, he guides me through a kiss so rough and absolute that by the time it’s over I’ve forgotten every thought in my head, lost every breath in my body.
So it takes me a moment for my mind to catch up when he says, “Are you sure that you want me to answer your question? Death isn’t very sexy. At least, to humans like you.”
“I want to know everything about you,” I answer, fighting through the fog of desire to remember the threads of our conversation. “Including if I should be afraid of you, any of you, leaving me again. I know all about you dying as humans... but what about as demons?”
“Ah.” He clears his throat, fingers moving gently through my hair, which has gotten longer since we last saw each other, the dark dye fading in countless washes. “If I die as a demon, I come back.”
His words should reassure me, but the tone of his voice makes it clear there’s a catch. “And then?”
“I don’t know...”
“Tell me,” I insist.
Ezra sighs. “If we die, we come back, but not in our same bodies. And we lose all our memories, our previous connections... it’s never happened to me, but it happened to someone I knew.” A pained expression crosses his face. “It’s irreversible.”
“Oh.” Fear fills me; I fight to keep it down. After coming so close to losing them forever, not to mention seeing someone die only hours ago, I can’t help but morbidly imagine that it could’ve been them. “But you’re hard to kill, right?”
“Yes.” He strokes my hair, then presses a kiss against my cheek, near my left eye. “We’re very, very hard to kill. Demons are fast, and strong. We heal quickly. You can dismiss us if we’re hurt. And I’m never, ever going to leave you.”
The promise, as impossible as it is to keep, settles around me like a fluffy blanket or a comforting hug. It’s something to hold onto in this dark, wretched world.
“Thank you.” I kiss him softly on the mouth, then stare up into his green eyes, which have crinkled at the corners just a little with happiness. “You’re right that I can dismiss you guys if you’re injured. And you can heal in that nowhere place, right?”
His expression flickers for a moment. “Of course.”
“So really I have nothing to worry about. Meyer can’t kill you. And if he does...” I chew on my lower lip, trying to banish the thought even as it swims around inside my head. “Well, if he does, at least you won’t be dead dead. Just... different. Maybe the bond will survive.”
“Maybe,” he echoes. “I don’t know all the rules. I just know it isn’t something you should worry about, Dani. You have enough worries in that head of yours. What you are, the Grim you’re descended from... well, you’re special, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” His fingers press against the base of my neck, making my eyelids slip half-closed. “I should go now. Lock that door of yours, alright?”
“Always do.”
“And summon us the instant anything happens.”
“That part happens reflexively,” I point out.
Ezra gives me a very stern look. “Still. You’ve been without us for a while. I don’t want you to forget that we’ll be there if you need us. Especially if he comes back, not that I think he will, since he hasn’t yet. Whatever he’s up to, whatever he’s planning, the instant you figure it out I want to know.”
“I’ll text you,” I joke. “Or slide into your DMs.” He’s still got that serious look on his face. “Fine, yes, of course I’ll summon you if my murderous cannibalistic centuries-old dad comes a’knocking at my door. I super double pinky swear promise, okay? Cross my heart and hope to die. Again. A third time.”
Chuckling, he shakes his head at my shenanigans and steps back, preparing for me to dismiss him. “See you tomorrow, Dani.”
Closing my eyes briefly, I let him go, watching him fade away.
I’m alone in my room.
And suddenly, all I can feel is an overwhelming, stifling panic.
I dismissed them. All four of them. So soon after getting them back. Even though I have no idea—no real, true understanding—of how our bond works. Sure, there’s fate and destiny and my Black Phoenix nature, but it’s all a fucked-up swirl of Meyer’s lies and half-truths and misunderstandings. For all I know I sent them back to Purgatory and they’ll never, ever come back to me again.
Fuck. Fuck-a-duck. Fuck-a-rub-a-dub-duckie.
“Dani.” As the panic bubbles up into my throat, I blink, and I’m not alone anymore. The four of them are in front of me, shoulder-to-shoulder, in various states of concern and amusement. Ezra raises a dark brow in my direction. “Dani, it’s only been a few seconds. Did you miss us that bad?”
Instead of answering, I fling myself towards him and loop my arms around his neck—and Sebastian’s shoulder. Then I reach down to tug Mateo close, and bring Lynx in, except my arms aren’t wide enough, and their shoulders are so broad, really do they only make demons out of underwear models or something? Lucifer would have a preference for uber attractive dead sinners.
But they’re warm, and they’re here, and ah fuck I can’t stop smiling. Will never stop wanting them next to me.
As the panic subsides in me, I kiss them all on the cheek and make myself step back, move away, and calm down a little. In a half-joking voice I say, “Just checking!”
Lynx reaches out and cups the side of my face with a large, warm palm. “You don’t have to check. We’ll always be there.”
“Yeah,” I say, a knot of tension unwinding in my chest and warmth easing through me, “I’m starting to get that.”
Chapter 5
Shoving my borrowed mug underneath the spigot of the headmaster’s coffee maker, I fill it up with as much dark, complex, wonderful coffee as it’ll hold. Behind me, Petra, Sam, a tired Liam, Yohan, McKinley, Fisk, and Kade are pulling folding chairs out of the office closet so we can have an impromptu strategy meeting and brief everyone on what’s going on. Above me, through the headmaster’s domed skylight, the rising sun puts out tendrils of soft light.
Yeah, the rising sun. You know, the one that comes out way too fucking early for a reasonable person to witness its ascent. Don’t ask me how Petra got me out of my bed so early; I barely remember, but I’m pretty sure I bit her. Serves her right for interrupting my sleep. I hope I gave her rabies.
“Alright everyone.” The headmaster finishes off her mug of coffee and faces the assembled crowd, looking shockingly well considering the fact that last night she had her chest cracked wide open and her heart straight-up stolen. “Now that we’re all here, I want to brief those of you who know a little of what happened on the full story,” her eyes flick to the teachers, who look both groggy and concerned, “and talk about what our next steps will be with the front line warriors who bravely took up the fight.”
Liam clears his throat. “Olivia wanted to come, but her healer said she shouldn’t go up stairs yet.”
“That’s very devoted of her, but there’s no need.” Lana smiles beautifully. “The main reason why I wanted you, Sam, and Petra here was so that I could let you know I’d like to officially name you Dani’s Shields when your training is finished. Starting with Petra at the end of this year.”
I blink. Petra makes a small, choked-off sound of distress. Sam sits up straight and puffs his chest out like he’s Popeye the Sailor.
Taking a long sip of coffee to wake myself up, I comment, “I didn’t think I needed Shields, what with the Grim powers and four demons.”
Sam deflates, and Liam frowns, making me regret my words almost immediately. So I quickly clarify, “I just don’t want to take an opportunity away from another phoenix student. Especially in times like these.”
Those were the wrong words, because the headmaster pipes in and says, “Not to worry, Dani. It’s far from a burden for you to be assigned Shields. And the partnership is about far more than day-to-day protection. Historically, of course, Shields and their Chosen fought side-by-side during the phoenix wars. Something I’m sure you’ve learned in history class.”
“Yes,” I admit, “I have. But I didn’t think... I mean, we’re not at war.”
In a grave voice Yohan says, “Aren’t we? Grims on campus grounds, four students dead in one semester. If this isn’t a war, it’s the precursor to one, and we’re losing the battle already. We need to prepare to take the fight to them. No matter the cost.”
His words send a chill through the room. Even I can feel it.
Suddenly, I find myself imagining that every night of the rest of my three and a half years here might be like last night, and the thought is enough to make me wish that I’d paid more attention in the few Group Combat classes I did have. Fisk would be delighted to know I’ve found a sudden reason to value his lessons above all others.
“Let us hope that war is preventable,” the headmaster says gently, “if we cut off the threat at its source. I have reasons to believe that Leo Meyer may in fact be the head of a Grim clan, not only powerful in his own right but well-connected to the other clans. He would be a useful asset to capture and contain on Darkness Island."
Darkness Island is the poorly-named prison colony I’ve heard rumors about only from other students. It's the kind of name you would expect from people who brand every available surface with gold phoenix, just in case we forget what magical school we're attending.
“If there’s some way we could simply nullify Meyer as a threat, I have the feeling the whole house of cards will fall down. Which is where you come in.” I struggle not to fidget as her eyes flick to me. “Dani, you spent the most time with him these past few months, while the rest of us were... indisposed.”
“I still don’t believe that I could have possibly been hypnotized,” McKinley mutters. “It must have been some sort of mistake.”
Fisk agrees. “Something in the food.”
Sighing, the headmaster shakes her head. “Believe it or not, it happened. And the only one who wasn’t taken in was his closest student. Why do you think that is, Dani? Is it because the two of you have overlapping abilities? Or do you think there’s some other reason?”
It’s uncomfortable having so many eyes on me at once, especially when I feel like the last person in the room to be an authority on, well, anything at all. “It could be because of our connection,” I venture.
The headmaster frowns at me, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “Connection? You mean the fact that both of you were born Grims, even though you’re a Black Phoenix?”
This is the moment when I realize she wasn’t around—or at least, lucid—when Meyer dropped the Luke, I am your father bombshell on me. I start to tell her only to freeze with my mouth half-open like some kind of goldfish, uselessly breathing out air.
Petra rolls her eyes.
“Well.” I clear my throat. “He, uh, he said... I don’t know if it’s true,” though the guys, who have spent even more time with him than me, said it was, “but he claimed that he’s my... father.”
Talk about awkward. You could hear a pin drop in the room. Even Sam and Petra, who were there to hear this news, look distinctly uncomfortable. Liam seems to be confused, and the teachers are all frowning in puzzlement—except Yohan, who strangely enough is nodding his head, like he suspected as much from the start.
“Interesting.” The headmaster recovers from her confusion quickly. “You know, we could use that, I bet.”
Petra makes a distressed sound. “Use... what?”
“Their connection,” she says simply. “It could be for the best. In fact, I think I have the perfect idea. But before I run it by our chief strategists,” she nods towards the four teachers, “I want to hear from the four of you exactly what happened last night, in your own words. Dani, you start first. Tell me every single detail—don’t leave anything out. Even if it seems unimportant. I want everyone here to know everything that we missed. Including what happened with those four demons.”
It’s a good thing I filled my coffee mug to the brim.
Apparently I’m going to be here all day.
Nearly two hours later, I’m on my third cup of coffee and vibrating slightly as I listen to Liam wrap up what little details of the night Petra, Sam, and I weren’t able to cover.
“And then I took Olivia to the infirmary. I missed the rest of what went on.” He shoots me a guilty look. “I’m sorry about that, Dani. Maybe if I’d been there...”
I open my mouth to tell him not to worry about it, but the headmaster gets to it before me. “I don’t want you to be burdening yourself with those kinds of thoughts, Liam. What happened recently was more responsibility than we expect any of you to shoulder before you even graduate.”
“Right.” Liam looks relieved and so does Sam, though I notice that Petra seems annoyed about something, her fingers drumming rapidly against her knee.
“In addition to taking things from here,” she says, motioning towards the four teachers, “I’ve asked that your instructors either wave your finals, assess you based on how you fought last night, or consider an alternative final. Of course I’ll speak to Ocean Johnson and Heidi Castle as well,” she adds, naming the shifter teacher I’ve never taken a class with. “Although I imagine Mr. Johnson will expect you to show at least a little knowledge of history.”
There’s a knock on the door behind us, growing insistent by the second. The headmaster lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Speak of the devil and he shall come before your door.” Louder, she calls out, “Just a moment, Mr. Johnson!”
“Lana.” There’s an urgent, aggrieved sound to the history teacher’s voice, a tone I’ve never heard from him before. Usually he’s either droning on in a monotonous voice that makes him sound like a stoned hippie even more than his name does. So it’s a shock when he follows up with, “For fuck’s sake, I need to speak to you. I know half the faculty is in there.” A pause. “Leo Meyer isn’t there, is he?”
Looking guilty, the headmaster calls out, “Come in.” As Mr. Johnson strides through the door she murmurs, “We should talk about Mr. Meyer, i
n fact. He isn’t here. He no longer works for the school, for various reasons.” Various murder-related reasons. “I haven’t had the chance to brief you, but you should know—”
“That he’s a lying fuckwit who's nearly three centuries old?”
Everyone in the room startles, and I guiltily realize I didn’t tell them about Ezra’s hunch. Well, there’s a good reason for that—I doubt they’d be into the whole a demon told me so thing—but it still feels like I lied by omission. I’m just so used to my quartet being a private secret that I forgot to mention they told me my evil biological father is the Crypt Keeper.
“What are you talking about, Mr. Johnson?” The headmaster frowns in his direction. “Three centuries... that sort of thing isn’t a part of Grim physiology.”
“If you had bothered to invite me to what was clearly an important meeting,” his eyes skim the other four teachers, all of whom squirm a little, “you might've received important information I’ve been gathering in my research. Using my extensive knowledge of history. Knowledge that would be a great advantage to you if you’re going to go up against someone who was instrumental in the Phoenix Wars. Did it occur to you that my reconnaissance might be valuable? That I’ve fought as a Shield myself, and might be useful as well?”
The flummoxed look on Kade’s face reveals that the weapons combat teacher hadn’t even considered this as an option. Sheepishly, he admits, “I told the headmaster not to invite you because you were sleeping off a hangover.”
Which was, based on the irritated look that crosses the history teacher’s face, true. I glance at Sam, who appears to be holding in his amusement with at least as much difficulty as me.
