Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (87 page)

room. His presence commanded such attention, it was unnerving.

He didn’t even seem to try, unlike Onyx and all his theatrics. For Phoenix, it was…natural.

He took up one side with his followers, while we took the other, standing behind Griffin. Jude remained in his corner, Azeem’s

very large blade still resting at his neckline. Jude seemed unfazed.

In fact, he had not even lifted his head, which remained covered under a hood.

“What of my men outside?” Azeem asked with a megaphone

volume.

“Some are probably dead, others might live,” said a very stoic

exile who stood directly behind Phoenix. There were twelve of

them including Phoenix, outnumbering the ten of us. Jude was an unknown.
Neither
friend
nor
foe.

Phoenix merely shrugged.

How
can
he
do this? How can he be attacking us like this?

I didn’t understand. I mean, I got the bit about him being dark and hating me, even wanting to kill me. But why was he so intent on getting the Grigori Scripture? It just didn’t fit.

I was missing something.

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“That is,” Phoenix said, “dependent on how quickly you can get

help to them.” He was smiling. “I take it you have figured out what is required.”

Griffin took a small step toward the center of the room, fearless.

“An exile of light, one of dark, and a Grigori,” he answered.

“Yes, but not just any. To lift the veil, a prince in each is required.

A leader.”

I looked back at the paintings on the wall. That was why each

was wearing a small crown.

“Well, I believe you have a problem then,” said Griffin. “You

might have exiles of light in your fold, but there is certainly no leader among them.”

A few of the exiles, obviously of light, sneered at Griffin. But he was right. None exuded enough supremacy.

“Griffin, you always were too slow,” Phoenix said. He turned,

seemingly distracted, to me. “You’re weak,” he said, as if angry with me about it.

“Strong enough to deal with you,” I said, pushing my shoulders back.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good.” He switched his attention to Lincoln. “Still think you can protect her?” He laughed and raised a hand. “No matter,” he said, before Lincoln could answer.

I could sense Lincoln stiffen beside me. He was biting his tongue.

There were small movements happening everywhere as people

adjusted, moving to get the best line on the exiles they were going to fight. I could see Nyla and Rudyard strategically positioning themselves at the far end where the most vicious exiles were

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crowded. I spotted the two whom Griffin’s intel told us were now Phoenix’s right and left: Gressil and Olivier. I could see why he’d selected them. Just the sight of them put my hair on end, and it had nothing to do with their massive stature in height and build. It was something else, seeping out from beneath the surface. Something altogether eager and…evil.

Nyla appeared unfazed. She would tackle the extra numbers and

Rudyard would have her back.

Spence made a move toward Nyla and Rudyard. I caught his eye

and I shook my head at him, but of course, he kept inching his way up there anyway. Lincoln stayed down with me and Magda was at

our end too. Griffin held his place in the middle, Zoe and Salvatore flanking him.

“I presumed you’d be here, Jude,” Phoenix said. “Still waiting

for something to trade for your return?”

Jude remained silent. But raw power emanated from him. He

was not afraid of Phoenix. Of any of us.

“Jude is a leader,” I said, starting to understand.

“Yes, the oldest remaining exile of light,” Phoenix said. “Here is your chance to play a part in history that is of your own

making, Jude.”

Jude stood and pulled down the hood of his robes. Azeem looked

to Griffin, who nodded. Azeem lowered his machete and allowed

Jude to pass. He walked to the center of the room and raised his arm over the chalice. He looked no more than thirty years old and he was…beautiful…in a most indescribably painful way.

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His dark hair, wispy thin and tattered, fell to his shoulders.

His eyes were baby blue and crystal clear beneath thick eyelashes.

His high cheekbones and slender features begged for some form

of contact. I was tempted to reach out to him and I had to force back my suddenly weightless arm that was so drawn to him. I saw some of the others actually take a step toward him before forcing themselves back.

I imagined that he would have the power to lure the love of

many and the arsenal to punish their trust with devastating accuracy. And yet, until this point, he had remained hidden beneath his robes, had withheld his enigmatic strength and power as if— and I was almost certain about this— he had no desire to use it.

“And now we just need the Grigori leader,” Phoenix said, also

stepping forward to stand before the chalice.

“I cannot permit it,” Griffin said.

Phoenix just smiled as if Griffin were doing and saying all the things he’d expected.

“Tsk, tsk.” He turned his attention back to me. “Must I force

blood from you so soon?”

The spot in my stomach where Onyx had stabbed me, the place

Phoenix now had control over, tingled with fear.

“Very well!” Phoenix said, irritated. I braced myself.

“Stop!” Griffin said, taking a step forward. “I’ll do it.”

Phoenix laughed. “You misunderstand yet again.” He swung

his hand around the room encased in paintings. “I need your

true
leader.”

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“Griffin is of a Seraph; you will not find a truer leader,”

Rudyard said.

“Of the Seraphim, yes. But your
true
leader? No.” Phoenix directed his attention back to me. “And you already know that,

don’t you, lover?” Phoenix said, looking toward Lincoln at his last word, gloating.

“
She
is not our leader,” Magda said, sounding horrified. No, mortified.

“Oh, but she is. Like I am born through a unique binding and

have chosen darkness. Like Jude has been abandoned by the light on his own say- so in order to deceive deception itself— we are both unique. Violet is more powerful than any Grigori who has come

before. Her very arrival awakened the possibility for this discovery.

Violet”— he threw his arms wide and raised his voice— “Violet is of the Graced!”

“I…What does that mean?” I asked, looking at Phoenix then

to Lincoln, who seemed…stunned. “What does that mean?” I

screamed at everyone, who stood shocked or dumbstruck or, in the case of Magda, like she was about to implode.

“It means, lover, that you are the first human to have ever been parented by one of the Sole. As a Grigori, you outrank everyone.” His expression broke. I couldn’t tell if it was triumph or sadness.

“But…I…I…” I looked around the room. Even the other exiles

seemed rocked by Phoenix’s revelation. Except Gressil. He looked like he was struggling to restrain himself. Clearly the idea of taking me on got his rocks off.

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Lucky
me!

Then I did the math and half laughed. I was such an idiot. I’d

actually thought that maybe he…And then I realized something else.

“That was why the exile at the airline factory ran away from me.

And at the farmhouse. I couldn’t figure it out.” I shook my head, angry with myself. “That’s why you didn’t just kill me at Hades.

You needed me for this.”

Phoenix moved from one foot to the other and swept a hand

quickly across his face, covering his eyes for just a moment. “Onyx and Joel were on the right track, but they hadn’t found the caves yet. It was only a matter of time, but if they’d had it their way, they would have killed you and destroyed the very key to the Scriptures.” I looked at Griffin, who had taken a step back, level with

everyone else. For some reason, that hurt more than anything else.

“Griffin,” I said, “it’s your call. Tell me what to do.”

“I don’t think you have a choice,” he said with a nod.

I knew he was right. These things always ended with me not

having a choice. “Great,” I sighed. “So I guess that means I have to divvy up in the blood donor stakes?” I looked back to Phoenix.

“What happens when we get the Scriptures?”

He raised his eyebrows and gave another indecipherable smile.

“We can all sit down calmly and discuss donating them to the

world history museum.”

I deserved that.

We would do what we always did. We’d fight.

Jude, I noticed, remained silent with his wrist over the chalice, 382

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which— now that I knew I had to bleed into it— looked really

freaking big.

“Anyone have a dagger handy?” Phoenix asked.

“I do,” said Azeem, raising his machete.

Phoenix looked unnerved for the first time since he had arrived, and I didn’t hold back my smile.

I pulled out my dagger and tried to ignore the feeling that

always came when I touched it. The one that made me feel so sick because…it felt right. A part of me.

Phoenix looked at the painting again, pointing to the hands on

each of the shoulders. “Sheer bleeds dark, dark bleeds light, light bleeds sheer.” He looked back to me, then to the dagger, then he raised his wrist above the chalice. “You’ll need to keep the dagger in there or I’ll heal too quickly. Think you can manage that?”

“Oh, I think I can manage that,” I said, as I punctured the veins in his wrist with the sharp tip. His chocolate eyes penetrated mine and suddenly I wanted to pull away. My mouth was dry and I

wanted to escape, but I couldn’t. Phoenix rotated his wrist so the inside was facing me, and blood started to trickle down. His eyes never left mine.

All too soon, the blood was slowing, his skin already healing

around the blade, and we still had a long way to go.

“Twist it,” Phoenix said, with a slight twitch of his lip. It hurt.

I didn’t deliberate for too long. Hell, he’d left me bleeding out like a pig the other day. I twisted the dagger in his wrist, reopening the wound, all the while unable to take my eyes from him. He

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barely reacted, just a slight narrowing of his eyes, not unlike the time I’d seen him eat a chili. Like then, I couldn’t tell if it was self-control or because he actually enjoyed it.

Blood flowed into the chalice while Phoenix continued to watch

me intently. I tried to look away from him, tried not to think the thoughts I was thinking. But even in this moment of violence,

somehow he invoked something so illicit in me that I was breathing a different kind of heavy.

I could feel him compelling me to keep looking at him. I knew

he was feeling it too. I couldn’t turn my eyes away, even though I was sure the entire room of exiles and Grigori knew exactly what I was thinking at that moment. And Lincoln was behind me.

“That’s enough,” said Jude, not even raising his head.

Phoenix turned his wrist upward again, in a way that caused the dagger to bite into him one last time. I quickly pulled it out and tried desperately to slow my breathing.

Jude’s hand went out.

“May I?” Phoenix said, smiling a little but not able to hide the intensity in his eyes too.

I handed him my dagger. His own wrist was now already healed.

“Ready?” he asked Jude, but he didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he raised the weapon, point down, and looked right into my eyes as he thrust it through Jude’s wrist until the base of the hilt stopped it from going any farther and the majority of the blade had gone right through to the other side.

I made a sound, but couldn’t speak as my heart thumped loudly

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over everything else and adrenaline surged through me. I feared I was going to be sick. The room started to spin and I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Girl!” Jude yelled at me just in time. My trance broke and I

managed to look away from Phoenix and from Jude’s wrist so that I only heard the scraping sound that came when Phoenix twisted

the blade against the bone.

Through such a deep wound, he bled quickly into the chalice and then Phoenix withdrew the blade, wiped it, and passed it on to Jude.

I watched the cut on Jude’s wrist quickly heal as if it had never been there. Was it miraculous? Imagination? Was anything real?

“Just you, now,” Phoenix said, his voice almost breaking.

“Violet,” Lincoln said quietly, from behind me. He was doing

everything to hold himself together too. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes.” I glanced back at Phoenix. I felt like he understood this better than anyone. “I do. I always do.”

“Jude, don’t cut her too deep. She’ll bleed freely, much faster than you,” Lincoln pleaded.

Jude nodded but didn’t say anything.

Com- for- ting! Don’t be weak. Remember the rules, Vi. Don’t run;
don’t quit.

I raised my wrist over the chalice that was now two- thirds full.

My whole arm was shaking.

Damn
it.

Jude looked up and into my eyes. He really was a beautiful