Phoenix Team One: Selected (Mythical Alliance: Phoenix Team Book 1)

by Claire Luana

  “I am a fragment of your father’s consciousness. Left here to guide you through the memories available.”

  I pressed my lips together. “So you’re really…him? A piece of him?”

  “The only piece left, it seems.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself, struggling to hold it together. Seeing him—it should be better, to have even the smallest piece of him right here before me. But it wasn’t. It was worse. He was here, but I couldn’t touch him, I couldn’t hug him or pound my fists into his chest for what he’d done. It just reminded me of how much I’d lost. “I want to go now."

  “Very well,” Dad’s form said, unperturbed. “If you ever wish to return, you have only to touch the sword and ask for a memory. I will supply it to you.”

  And then I was back, blinking away the light of Auntie’s kitchen, my hand closed around the buttery leather of the talwar’s hilt. She hadn’t moved an inch. It was like I’d never been gone.

  I dropped the sword back into the case like I’d been burned.

  Auntie was there, her hand on my shoulder, her green eyes searching. “Are you all right?”

  All I could do was shake my head as the tears poured forth. She wrapped me in her arms as I sobbed, feeling like I’d lost him all over again.

  I thought I’d already reached the bottom of my well of my grief, but I’d been wrong. It went deeper than I knew—miles of dark and cold.

  Auntie held me as I cried that night, her own tears perfuming my hair as we spooned in her big four-poster bed. The sun was rising when I finally fell into a fitful sleep.

  I woke exhausted, my head tight and pounding, my heart rung dry.

  She fed me coffee in the morning with dosa bread smeared with fig jam and ricotta cheese.

  The folder sat on the countertop, next to the tightly closed case bearing the sword. I’d forgotten all about it. So I opened it and read while I ate.

  “What is that?”

  “The report on Dad’s death,” I admitted.

  Auntie froze for a moment in the act of returning the creamer to the fridge but then recovered. “What does it say?”

  I scanned it with a strange mix of eagerness and trepidation. “They found evidence of magical charges on the pillars of the building Dad drove by—C4 explosives with a spelled trigger. They said it looks like Black Moon Coven technology, but they’re still investigating.” The Black Moon Coven had been officially declared a terrorist organization by MASC two years back.

  “So he was killed on purpose. You always said.”

  “You’re the one who taught me to follow my intuition,” I retorted.

  “There’s that sass. You must be feeling better.” A ghost of a smile crossed Auntie’s face. “I should have listened.”

  “It’s okay. I get why you didn’t want to believe me. I didn’t really want to believe me.”

  “Any other clues?”

  I finished scanning the report. “Just one. They discovered a strange circle imbedded on the concrete behind the facade that collapsed. Large—as if the stone had been imprinted upon, but the imprint was raised. Markings of some kind. Lettering? Runes? I can’t make it out.” I showed her the grainy black-and-white photo in the report.

  We both peered at it, our heads together, as if getting closer to the image would make it reveal its secrets. “I have never seen its like,” Auntie finally said. “You make them show you the details of these markings. We will find whatever magic did this.”

  “I will. If I pass, that is.” My stomach flipped. The test would start tomorrow at 6 a.m. What had I gotten myself into?

  “You will. You have your father’s memories to aid you.” My eyes flicked to the black case. It was beyond weird to think that I could access Dad’s memories whenever I wanted. I was torn between desperate curiosity and my low-burning anger at him. “I’m not ready to go back in.”

  “Then you have friends who can help prepare you.”

  “I’m not asking Kiki or Alviya for help. I don’t even want to see them.”

  Auntie clucked her tongue. “I know you’re angry, but what did your father always say?”

  I pursed my lips. “Use every resource at your disposal.”

  “There are times in life when the line between ally and enemy becomes blurred. In those moments, practicality must govern, not emotion.”

  “Thanks, Sun Tzu,” I muttered. “I never thought I’d hear you advocating logic over emotion.”

  “We have both for a reason, curlicue. And I am still a naga. We keep to the three-fold path.”

  “I know.”

  For a second, I could see Dad in front of me. I was small, and he was down on one knee. I’d just gotten the crap kicked out of me by two human kids who lived three houses up, and green blood dribbled from my nose. He was wearing his fatigues, back before he’d started wearing business suits instead. When I sobbed at him that I wanted to learn to fight, he shook his head calmly and asked, “Do you think muscles make you strong? Training?” I nodded, wiping the back of my hand across my nose. He shook his head gently and poked me in the belly. “Nagas know that strength comes not from might, but from here. Your intuition. Let it guide you.” He poked me gently in the breastbone. “Here. Your heart. Where courage and compassion lie. Let it guide you.” He poked me between the eyes. “And here. Wisdom. Let it guide you. This is the three-fold path. Let it guide you, and you will always have what you need.”

  Tears pricked my eyes and I shoved them down. I wanted to scream at him, to flail against his memory. I don’t have everything I need, do I, Dad? Because you’re gone.

  But as much as I felt wrung out and raw, I knew Auntie was right. I needed an edge if I wanted to pass whatever test they were planning for me. Using Dad’s memories was the smart play, but I didn’t know if I could see him again without falling apart. Kiki and Alviya were my other option. I didn’t want to face them, either, though; I was still so furious about their lies.

  Either way, I had fewer than twenty-four hours to decide.

  Just after noon, I let Auntie wrap me in a hug and hand me a bag full of fragrant leftovers and called myself and Dad’s talwar an Uber. I was still angry at her, but I was beginning to see that Dad had made a decision a long time ago that had shaped all of the lives around me. I couldn’t cut out everyone in my life for toeing the line he’d set. Or I’d have no one left.

  I went to wait for my ride outside in the fresh spring morning, closing my eyes to bask in the sun.

  That was why I didn’t see the car until it was almost upon me. Tires squealed and my eyes flew open to reveal a black SUV with tinted windows skidding to a stop directly in front of me.

  Four black-clad soldiers with face masks and assault rifles burst from the car. Coming at me. Coming for me? Either way, it couldn’t be good.

  I launched into a run, sprinting down the street.

  Something hit me from behind, square between my shoulder blades. I went down—hard. My chin scraped against the pavement, taking the brunt of my fall.

  My lungs rebelled against me, unwilling to pull in breath. Had I been shot?

  I hazarded a look over my shoulder.

  Two sets of black-booted legs were approaching—their steps tight and precise.

  I tried to push up to my hands and knees, but my muscles were frozen. Weak. Another tranq dart? Auntie’s food had spilled over the sidewalk before me, and the case for Dad’s sword had busted open. The talwar was lying just a foot from me. If I could reach it…

  The men were almost upon me.

  I rallied every last drop of energy and lunged forward. My hands connected with the hilt. And I was whisked away.

  14

  The memory palace was just as it had been. Dad stood calmly across the stone space, regarding me.

  I, on the other hand, was freaking the fuck out.

  I’d come in on hands and knees—I pushed to my feet. “Dad, someone’s attacking me.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

/>   I growled. “That’s it? You’re sorry?” Where was Dad’s fire? His righteous fury?

  “The fragment that was preserved does not include emotion. But perhaps I can help you another way?”

  Yes. I needed help. “Memories.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  I didn’t know what the hell was going on, or who the hell these people were. All I knew was that I was splayed out on the sidewalk like old take-out and when I returned to my body from the strange time of this place, I’d probably be loaded into that car. Or killed. Or loaded into the car and then killed. This might be my only chance to learn what Dad knew. To benefit from his wisdom. “Everything. Show me everything.”

  Dad shook his head. “That’s unadvisable. The weight of that many memories being added to your neural pathways at one time—it could overload your circuits, so to speak.”

  “I might not have any circuits left to overload if we don’t do this. Give me the memories. Now.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Very well.” He stepped in close, looking so much like Dad that it made my heart seize. The green of his eyes, the flecks of gray at his temples, the strength and authority that radiated from him…

  He held out his hand, as if to shake mine.

  “I thought I couldn’t touch you.”

  “You may only during the transfer.”

  So I threw my arms around him. He was solid and real and Dad.

  Then the onslaught began.

  I came to in some sort of warehouse. Cold concrete floor beneath me, a tall ceiling with dim, buzzing lights above. Someone had hung plastic to section the space off into a sort of macabre room. Horror movie chic.

  I took in the space, catalogued what I knew. Tried to ignore the fact that I was chained to a chair. That my chin smarted like hell from where I’d smacked it on the pavement.

  My head felt like it might split apart from the weight of new knowledge. I didn’t know if this was what it felt like to have my circuits overloaded, but I suspected it might. It was like there were two people inside me.

  Zariya, who was practically peeing her pants in terror right now. I’d been kidnapped.

  And there was Vizol. Calm. In control. He’d gotten out of situations ten times worse than this without breaking a sweat. Was this how Dad had felt all the time, supremely confident and sure of his own abilities? It was a heady feeling, especially compared to the stress ball of doubts and insecurities that was Zariya.

  But Dad’s fearlessness had gotten him killed. He hadn’t been invincible, and neither was I.

  I desperately wanted to explore my new knowledge, to swim through the waters of Dad’s memories like a fish. Flashes of his memories of me surfaced—me with pigtails and a gap in my smile, me flying a kite on the seashore with a look of pure childhood delight on my face. I could feel his love for me. His pride. It was like oxygen to my suffocating heart.

  I’d thought Dad had wanted another family because I hadn’t been enough. I knew now how wrong I’d been. He’d built Veil Force because of me. Because other supes deserved safety too. Lives where their children could grow up and join the world as equals.

  A man in black military gear slipped under the plastic, startling me out of Dad’s memories.

  I gave myself a mental kick. I should have finished analyzing my predicament, not taken a stroll down memory lane.

  The man dragged a chair across the cement floor, dropped it across from where I sat, and settled into it. He was tall and muscular, with a chiseled, handsome face and chocolate-brown hair cut short. Though he looked human, he moved with a preternatural grace that cried supe. I wondered what he was. I didn’t recognize him from any of Dad’s memories.

  I opened my glands and quested out to see what was around. The building was large, with six bodies within. It must have been located in a fairly deserted area, though, because I couldn’t make out any other people or supes nearby. The building smelled faintly of oil and gasoline. So some sort of auto storage or repair facility. That was helpful but didn’t exactly narrow the location down. That could put us in any one of a thousand places in the Tri-State area.

  The supe in black was examining me, one booted foot resting on the other knee. His body language wasn’t particularly hostile. More like curious.

  The silence between us was itching at me, but Dad’s memories said to stay silent. Let him take the lead. So I stared back, meeting his brown eyes.

  “Zariya Chanji,” he finally said.

  “Gold star for you,” I retorted.

  I could practically feel Dad smacking his forehead in exasperation. I supposed antagonizing your enemy with futile snark was not part of the Veil Force handbook.

  “I apologize for the force with which you were brought here. My men got a little…overeager. They have been disciplined.”

  “Who are you? Why am I here?”

  “We are an organization that acquires objects of value.” So…thieves. “We keep a close eye on what goes on in the supernatural law enforcement community. You came to our attention as the newest member of Veil Force.”

  Not if I didn’t get the hell out of here and back to Tartarus base by 0600 tomorrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a member of anything.”

  The man pursed his lips. “Now, Zariya, let’s dispense with the facade, shall we?”

  I said nothing, which I guessed he took as assent.

  “We would benefit from having a woman on the inside. Someone who could help us understand where Veil Force was going to be next. Help us keep a few steps ahead.”

  I scoffed. This guy had a pair of cojones on him. “You want me to spy for you?”

  “I understand it may seem distasteful, and so we’re prepared to make it worth your while. Our clients pay handsomely for the items we procure for them. We would be willing to pay half a million dollars per year for you to serve as our eyes and ears inside Tartarus.”

  Half a million… My eyes goggled. Damn, that was a lot of money. Corrupt, wrong, never! Dad’s memories practically shouted at me.

  Well, yes, obviously, I wasn’t actually going to do it. However nice a cool half a mil might have sounded. I’d never betray what Dad had built, what Veil Force stood for.

  I shook my head. “No way. If I knew what you were talking about, and if I were a member, there’s no amount of money that would turn me into your mole.”

  The man frowned, rubbing his strong jaw. “I urge you to reconsider, Zariya. You see, we will have you for our spy, one way or another. We’d prefer you to cooperate willingly. It’s easier on everyone. But we’re prepared to do this the hard way.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose. “You can’t make me do anything.”

  “Unfortunately for you, that’s just not true.”

  He stood and ducked under the plastic. My pulse roared to life, my senses on high alert. What was he doing? What was he getting?

  Feeling out with my glands, I saw that he was returning with someone else. A smaller, female form. So not what was he getting…but whom. A supe.

  I threw up my mental walls, forming them tightly around my mental space. Dad had been through serious anti-interrogation training from both human and supe adversaries, so I added his knowledge to my own, using the techniques he’d been taught to fortify my walls even stronger. Until they were as sturdy as steel. Impenetrable.

  When the black-clad man reappeared, I was ready. For the woman at his side, not so much.

  She was petite and lovely, clad in a suit of pink herringbone. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded in curls over her shoulders and her makeup was perfect. She looked like she belonged ruling the boardroom of a fashion empire, not in this dank place.

  I wanted to laugh in relief.

  But not Dad. He had known her. And for the first time since his memories had poured into my mind, a rare sensation surfaced from the depths. Fear.

  15

  Konstantin’s phone rang for the second time. Damn it. He ignored it, pulling t
he pillow over his head. Didn’t a man deserve a few hours of peace?

  He felt a shudder against his mental shields, as if a giant were pounding on the door. That could only be Kiki. Which meant it was Kiki who was calling.

  He dragged himself from bed and grabbed his phone. “What?”

  Kiki sounded near tears. “Konstantin, I think you should get down here. Cyriaque…I don’t know what he’s thinking. This is super fucked-up.”

  The remaining fog in his mind cleared. “Calm down. What’s going on?”

  “The test Cyriaque is putting Zariya through. He called in the mara.”

  He froze. “What test? Zariya’s test isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “No. It’s happening right now. They took her to some warehouse. Konstantin, she’s torturing her.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Konstantin threw on jeans and a T-shirt and was out the door, wishing the elevator from his penthouse apartment was quicker. Vampires in modern literature always had astounding powers like the ability to fly, to turn into a bat, or to run as fast as the speed of light.

  The elevator doors opened to the garage, revealing the sleek lines of his Audi R8. While he did have incredible strength, speed, and stamina, if he needed to get somewhere fast, this was how he did it. He liked to think his true superpower was in having made six centuries of wise investments. The compound interest alone made him stupidly rich. As much as it galled him, in modern life, money was power. And freedom.

  Konstantin shot out of the parking structure onto the streets of Manhattan. At this time in the early afternoon, traffic hadn’t reached complete gridlock, and he maneuvered his way towards Four Freedoms Park.

  His mind circled over what Kiki had said, again, and again. Cyriaque had told him the test was tomorrow. Had told Zariya. So what the hell was he playing at?

  He shifted into high gear, the engine purring to life beneath him. He was going to fucking find out.