Fractured flame firebird.., p.24
Fractured Flame (Firebird Uncaged Book 1), page 24
“No,” I said slowly, still not sure where he was going with this.
“Good.” He stood up straight again and peered down at me without backing away. “Because if you have some ulterior motive for trying to get a drink in me, you should know it’s not necessary.”
“Fuck, Adrian. It’s hot cocoa. What ulterior motive could I . . .” His eyes bore into mine, and I stopped, remembering how strange he’d acted after I’d thought about messing with his drink in the club. Did he still think I’d made him magically lusty for me? Of course, I probably had done that just by thinking about it. Because the magic inside me had started going wonky when Ray had walked into the club that night—when I’d been making Adrian’s drink.
I swallowed, suddenly wanting to run far, far away from this room and this man. “It’s not necessary,” he’d just said. That could mean he found me so revolting that no amount of magic in his drink would do the trick, but the way he was standing and staring at me said it was more likely the opposite.
“Come on,” Noah whined, tugging harder at Adrian’s arm now. “You have to get a lobster in your cocoa so we can watch it melt.”
Adrian busted out a confused grin, finally breaking his gaze away from me as he looked down at Noah. “I don’t know what that means, but I’m excited to find out,” he said.
I took in a shaky breath, grateful for the interruption. “Careful what you wish for,” I said, and I managed a small smile as they left the room.
Carina gave me a look of disgust when I turned back to her and sat by her side.
“Why are you all so weird?” she asked. “Lobster?”
I chuckled. “This coming from the girl who gobbles up baby goats.”
She stuck her tongue out at me, then looked away. “You really should go find my dad,” she said.
“Okay, but why?” I asked. “What didn’t you want to say in front of them?”
“He’ll heal better if you’re there.” She let out a tiny huff. “It’s why we came all the way to this stupid city in the first place.”
“Why will he heal better with me there?” I was so tired of all the vague bullshit coming from this girl and her father. “What’s the connection between us?”
She shut up then, scrunching her face at me, and I recognized it as the same look she’d given me after being caught stalking me when I’d saved her from Possum.
“Why doesn’t he want you to tell me?” I asked.
“Because he wanted to show you. I don’t think he thought you’d believe it any other way. The book was supposed to work, but he said it didn’t because of your ugly tattoo. And then once we got it off . . .” Her eyes lit up, probably as she remembered tossing me to my death from hundreds of feet in the air. “There wasn’t enough time then. And now . . .”
“Did he say anything else about my tattoo? Why did it . . .” I didn’t even know how to phrase the question.
But Carina shook her head. “I don’t know. He might have said, but it was boring and I wasn’t paying attention. Look, I don’t know that much anyway.”
“Then tell me what you do know. I won’t help him if you don’t.”
“Fine.” She huffed again. “You guys are . . . hosts? I think that’s the word.”
“Hosts? For what?”
“Some kind of phoenix spirit. Just one, though. It lives in both of you at once. It always needs two, a brother and a sister. Usually twins, I think. It follows our god now, but it’s much older than him. From somewhere far away. Like I said, I don’t know the whole story. I just know it doesn’t like being broken apart. So Ray’s always had it tough, without you. He’s useless to our cause because he can’t control his magic. And when he and my mom split . . . they wanted to kick him out. But then I would be alone—that’s why we came to find you. He needs you close if we’re going to stay together.”
I stared at her, every muscle in my body still. I’d stopped breathing when she’d said “brother.”
They’d being throwing around the word “family” at me all along, but that word had always had a complicated meaning for me. Now, though . . . apparently they’d meant it literally.
I sucked in a breath of air, trying to process the rest of what she’d said. I’d missed about half of it because she’d said it so fast, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough. I needed to know more—so much more—if I was going to get rid of this thing in me, this hot-tempered bird who had hijacked my body and burned my friend.
And to know more, I apparently needed Ray alive.
22
I watched faceless bodies in scrubs dig into Ray’s flesh from behind the glass outside the operating room. I could barely even tell it was him, from this far away and with his body so obscured. His face was covered in tubes, and there were so many lacerations on his mangled limbs that his skin didn’t even look like I remembered it.
But it was him; I could feel the bird. And maybe something more. As much as I hated it, it wouldn’t surprise me if we really were related. A brother—maybe even a twin like Carina had suggested. I’d always wanted something like that when I was a kid. And I’d never known who my parents were, beyond the community of mages who’d raised me. So it was possible.
I touched the glass gently, wondering what would happen if I just smashed through it and fought my way to him. I’d have to take on some surgeons armed with scalpels, but I liked my chances. The only problem was that they didn’t deserve to die, and I wasn’t great at dropping bodies without also murdering them.
But I’d pissed off more than a few people just getting here, and they weren’t going to stop surgery to let me try to heal him with magic. The clinic I’d grown up in had no doctors at all, only mages; but in most hospitals, magic was still scoffed at as unreliable at best, and a huge liability even when it worked. Because who could say that the cancer you found yourself with one day had nothing to do with the magic some mage lady used to heal your broken arm years before?
I sighed, and the squealing of wheels rolling by made me turn my head. Someone in scrubs was pushing a cart towards the door to the operating room.
A quick glance around confirmed that no one else was paying much attention. But still, how to incapacitate an innocent who was just doing their job?
Before I could think much about it, I had already cleared the distance between us and pulled the green squishy out of my pocket. If Miriam had thought it safe enough to use on Noah, it was probably safe enough for this guy. Or at least I hoped so as I jammed it over his eyes, killer me having enough sense to leave his nose and mouth free for breathing.
He stiffened immediately, and I caught him under the shoulders before he could fall to the ground. Then I dragged him behind the cart he’d been pushing and started stripping him. He was a small man in loose scrubs, and I was a curvy woman in tight pants, so this just might work.
After a fair share of awkward moments that luckily no one saw, he was in my outfit of jeans and leather jacket—minus most of the weapons—and I looked like a puffy blue alien. I slung his arm over my shoulder and dragged him gently over to a bench against the wall, where I laid him down with his hands over the squishy on his face. He kind of looked like he was taking a nap. It would have to be good enough.
I shrugged my shoulders and went back to his cart, rolling it into the operating room.
No one said anything to me. Or at least I thought no one said anything to me. I couldn’t understand the nonsense they were saying, and they were all speaking with their eyes down anyway, so I had no idea who anyone was even talking to.
Oh well, better work quick before they realize I don’t belong here. Working quick was easier when I knew what to do, which I didn’t. But I could . . . oh man . . . I hated myself for even thinking this, but I would have to wing it.
I was so thankful Miriam wasn’t in my head to hear that. I made a mental note to stop with the fucking bird puns before I could slip and say one out loud.
Trying to clear my mind, I snuck in at the operating table by Ray’s feet and covertly touched my wrist to the side of his foot. I couldn’t use my fingers because they were covered by the gloves I’d stolen. His skin felt cold against mine.
I took in a breath and closed my eyes, and my heart sank as I realized I had stepped back into my old life. In a hospital, touching a dying patient, trying to ensnare their life force and keep it in their broken body. That had always been my job, the thing I could do better than anyone else. Now I wondered if it’d had something to do with the phoenix hitchhiking inside me. Was that why I was so gifted when it came to maneuvering between the realms of life and death? Was that why my adoptive family had wanted me in the first place?
Regardless, that wasn’t what I was doing now. All I needed to be doing now was connecting the thing inside me to Ray so he could heal himself. Probably.
I looked inward, at my own scrye instead of feeling for his. And I found it burning. Not a destructive burn, though. An effusive burn. It led me to his, which felt like nothing more than the glowing embers of a candle wick with not enough wax.
That was all it took.
Birdie was happy now, apparently. Appeased. Ray’s wounds healed almost instantaneously—too quickly for anyone’s comfort.
One of the surgeons screamed, his hand disappeared up to the wrist in Ray’s chest, which had closed up around it. And all those broken bones . . . I had a feeling they would need to be re-broken and set in better positions if Ray was ever going to move like a human again.
Bats. Too much healing. Birdie might not be as appeased as I’d thought. Or maybe it just had a sense of humor. I was at least satisfied now that Ray would live, so I got the fuck out of that room before anyone could question me. Now it really felt like I was a teenager again.
I tore my jacket off the paralyzed guy and bolted; everything else could be replaced. All I could think about was getting out of the hospital. As far away as possible. I’d done what I’d come here for and more, and I couldn’t stand another moment of these headache-inducing lights.
Adrian could bring Noah home later. I wasn’t sure if I trusted him to keep Noah safe, but hopefully Noah wouldn’t really need protection anytime soon.
What he would need today was someone to keep him from doing anything stupid or evil, and I did trust Adrian to be that person.
Right now, I needed to be alone. I needed to run.
After the horror show at the hospital, and after a shower had failed to take my mind off it, there was only one place I wanted to be.
The streets in Old Town weren’t empty like they’d been the day Becca had burned. Ice had slowly melted to reveal wet bricks, and the tree branches that had glittered like magic now only looked soggy and dead. But neon lights made up the difference, and drunk people were scurrying around the neighborhood like ants.
And there was no assassin following me this time, so that was a plus.
If I ever came across Shelby again, I would probably need to make a show of hating her so whoever had orchestrated Simeon’s death didn’t figure out I knew it wasn’t the Sweepers. But I didn’t want to think about that now. I didn’t want to think about anything now except hustling for tips and playing back-up for whatever dancers were ballsy or desperate enough to come to work tonight.
Who knew if our club would even stay open, now that Baz was locked up? I didn’t know what I’d do if we closed.
Kat was perched on a stool by the door when I walked in, taking covers and checking IDs while Mitch flitted about behind the bar. The room was crowded with customers, far too many for the number of dancers that were here working. The news had gotten out about what had happened to Becca, and probably even the connection between our club and the Godzilla-ifrit who had wrecked a whole city block in downtown DC.
People loved to see a train wreck, and probably even more so when it came with tits and ass on display.
Well, good. I needed to lose myself in work tonight, so I was happy to see there was plenty of work to be had.
Kat stroked my arm with her long nails and purred at me when I tried to walk past her. “Hey, little bird.”
Batty fucking hell. The last thing I needed was another predator—a vampire cat lady, at that—looking at me and seeing a juicy feathered snack. I didn’t know if Baz had told, or if she could smell the phoenix magic, or what, but this was not going to work.
My hand darted out to her neck, squeezing just hard enough and fast enough to shock her without making a scene.
“Try anything and you’ll be the next one to burn,” I said. “Only I’ll do it the old-fashioned way and cut off your head first.”
She didn’t look as intimidated as I’d hoped, just raised her eyebrows and gave me an impressive amount of side eye for someone who couldn’t move her head.
“Calm down, fire feathers. I was just teasing. I like you too much to eat you.”
I let go of her. “You . . . like me?” This was the woman who had been coming in and dancing her shifts for months without ever saying more than a word at a time to any of us. I didn’t know she had it in her to “like” anyone. Not to mention I’d drawn a fanged vagina on her face last time I’d seen her.
“Yeah.” She shrugged, the most human gesture I’d ever seen from her. “The guys don’t tip as well when Mitch is working the bar.”
That was probably true, because Mitch didn’t know how to put magic feelings into cocktails like I did. Not that I would be doing any more of that anytime soon. Now that I knew what was inside me, I would be keeping my magic to myself even more than before. Heaven forbid some terminal cancer patient come to the club for some innocent fun and end up reborn in flames because I accidentally “touched” their tequila with a little too much oomph. Nope—not happening. I’d have to find another way to open wallets.
I had no idea what to say to Kat, since I honestly wasn’t convinced she hadn’t been body-snatched since yesterday, so I just said, “Okay,” and walked over to the bar.
“Oh good,” Mitch said when he saw me. “I was supposed to be in charge if you didn’t come back.”
“What? Says who? Did you hear from Baz?”
Mitch ignored me as he finished off an Old Fashioned and slid it over to a man sitting at the bar, who gave me a big wink and a little wave.
“What the hell is Dirk doing here?”
Mitch wiped off his hands and then raised them in the air, ducking out from behind the bar. Coward.
“Hello to you too, pretty little witch,” Dirk said as he raised his glass to me.
“I’m not a—” Fuck, I might actually be a witch. “What do you want?”
“Officially . . . I’m here to give you this.” He slid a thin envelope across the bar to me.
“What is it?”
“You can’t read?” He squinted at me. “I knew there was something funny about you.” He shook his head. “She can kill but she can’t read.”
Dirk no longer seemed afraid of me in the least, and it was unsettling.
I tore open the envelope and read the words “Dear Birdie” scribbled in handwriting so florid it was almost illegible. “From Baz?” I asked without looking up. From what I could tell, it maybe said “sorry,” and the rest was anyone’s guess. “What the fuck does it say, and why are there so many swirly flowers and hearts around the letters?”
Dirk shrugged. “He wants you to cover for his ass. Not sure how long he’ll be locked up or when he’ll go to trial, but I know there’ll be no bail. Not with what he is and what his auntie did.”
I frowned. “So I’m just supposed to . . . What? Keep working? Keep everyone working without a paycheck?”
“You’ll get your pay. I think. Go see him yourself if you’re so concerned.” He took a sip of his Old Fashioned and made a face. “That boy don’t make ’em like you do.”
“Is that all?” I asked.
“Nope.” He left it at that, swiveling his seat around to watch the stage. Etty’s music was playing, but it was some newish girl on the stage dancing to it, a lizardy iguana shifter with a crazy tongue. Dirk leaned back and gestured down the bar, then grunted, “I’ll holler when I need a top-up.”
I hadn’t thought that man could get any more aggravating, but it seemed I was wrong. He sat there the entire night, through my long shift, taking up a seat at my busy bar and watching the dancers on stage without tipping anyone a single dollar.
He’d racked up a hefty tab by the end of the night, and I took pleasure in handing him the black bill holder with a bright smile on my face. I didn’t put it down in front of him; I wanted to make sure he took it.
He did so, without hesitating, slipping something inside and handing it right back to me without looking at the amount. A little disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to see him squirm, I turned around with it to face the register. When I opened it, I nearly dropped it on the ground.
A Guardian badge was staring back at me, with Dirk Quincy’s smug face pictured on it. Underneath that was a credit card.
I turned back around, glaring at him, and he just lifted his eyebrows. “What? You didn’t ID me. I could arrest you for that, you know.”
I turned back around and ran his card. I hadn’t liked dealing with this fucker when I’d thought he was nothing but an incompetent asshole, and certainly not after he’d disappeared with Etty and she’d failed to come home, but now . . . He’d been toying with me the entire time. So masterfully I’d never suspected a thing. This was bad and it could only get worse.
When I handed the bill holder back to him, he looked me in the eye and smiled. “I’ve got an extra-special tip for you tonight, little lady.” He slid a small box across the bar to me; it looked like it could have chocolates or fancy cookies inside. But I knew it didn’t.
This was Guardian protocol—not one I’d ever encountered on the job, but one I’d learned about at the Academy. It meant he had a mission for me. A covert one, and I’d never been slotted to go into covert ops.
I opened the box to take a peek, then shut it after seeing a squishy pink blob inside, along with a tiny data drive. I squeezed my eyes closed, then looked at him. “Miriam too?”
