Frozen Vengeance (9 page)

“They are gone.”

Colt must have sensed her fear.

“We are far from the mine. How are you feeling?”

Angelica did a mental inventory of her aches and pains—sore joints and a drained feeling. The cold from the trunk of the tree seeped into her back and she shivered. “I’m fine.” She stretched her back and Colt moved away from her to the other side of the fire, reaching for more wood and fiddling with its placement as if he didn’t want to look at her.

“I suppose you saved my life?”

He snorted.

“Okay, so in your mind, it isn’t a shining good deed, but thank you anyway.”

He looked up and pinned her with a hard look.

“Don’t thank me, Geli. I saved your life so I could take it myself.”

Anglelica swallowed, he seemed so intense. He had every intention of killing her and from the look on his face, making her suffer first.

“I suppose that telling you again that I’m innocent and I’ve done nothing to you wouldn’t help?”

He glared at her, ice in his stare. “Lying will make me hate you more, and I don’t think that’s possible.”

Angelica looked down at her hands in her lap. She sat cross-legged as close to the edge of the fire as she can get.

“I didn’t do it, Colt.” Her voice was a whisper. “I’m not lying.”

He rose to his feet in one fluid motion and kicked snow over the flames, splattering Angelica with some, causing her to gasp and shift back.

“Get up, we need to get moving. We’ll reach the village today if we move fast, and I don’t care if I have to drag you by your hair, you will haul ass.”

“How very… Caveman of you,” she said in a dry tone. She got to her feet and dusted the back of her robes off. At least they’d be moving, and that would make her warm.

Angelica, Silver Lining Girl.

She almost laughed at that, but stopped herself in time. Colt would not appreciate her humor, and she’d poked that bear more than enough for one day. Pun intended.

She watched the way he moved as he put out the fire. Then, he turned and walked out of the tree line.

She sighed.
More deep snow. Yay.

* * * *

A thought hit Athera.
Man Cave
.

That described Laz’s living room. He had a huge TV and Athera didn’t even want to guess at the size, but it took up most of the wall.

Gaming consoles of every make and shape were near it and controllers of every kind were scattered around the room.

Deep over-stuffed couches and
bean-bags?

The place was dark until Laz reached out a long arm for a remote and turned up the lighting. “Grab a seat,” he instructed. “There’s drinks in the bar fridge. Can I offer you some?”

“You know what I like,” Trinity said from her place on one of the couches.

Laz opened the bar fridge and tossed her a coke.

“I’ll have one of those, too, please.”

Athera had to think fast as Laz threw the soda through the air at her. She caught it with her fingertips and looked at the bottle, afraid to open the drink in case it decided to explode all over her.

She watched Trin open hers in increments, turning the plastic cap of the bottle and releasing some pressure, then turning it a little more until she could open it without the drink inside erupting out. Trinity must be used to the way Laz served drinks.

Athera followed her example and got her bottle open. She took a sip, sighing in pleasure. Coke was always going to be one of her favorites.

“So, why am I getting this visit?” Laz grabbed a coke for himself and went to slouch on the arm of a chair. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, Trin, but, yeah…” He let it trail off as he scanned a look across the Outsiders in the room.

“I need to know if you could find a phoenix,” Trinity blurted out.

Athera watched as both of Laz’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

“What have you been smoking, Trinity? The Phoenixes are a myth.”

Trinity looked over at Ath. “How about a demo, BFF?”

Athera raised one hand and focused, letting flames burst from her skin.

Laz nearly fell off the arm of the chair, then stood and straightened to his full height. His eyes held something that made Athera nervous—a hunger, a need to possess.

“You are a phoenix.” His voice had dropped an octave, and Archer stood and placed himself in front of Athera.

“She is, but that’s not important. We need to know if you could track one.”

Athera peeked from behind Archer and saw Laz work to get his expression blank.

“I might be able to, but why should I help?”

“You owe me, Laz,” Trinity said from her couch. “And you are going to pay that debt off in two ways.”

He pinned her with a look. “Tell me.”

“One…you are going to vow to never come after any of the Phoenixes.”

His expression grew hard.

“Two…you are going to help us track down our missing friend.”

“You helped me when I needed it most, Trinity. You got me the vengeance I needed, but that is a lot to ask of a Necromancer.”

Trinity shrugged. “Deal or not?”

Laz seemed to consider it for a moment. He was clearly a male who did not like to be indebted to anyone.

“Decide, Laz, or we leave now. I will not let you have any of my friends. I don’t care how much power you could gain in court because of it.” Trinity’s voice held a wealth of warning.

“Okay, I’ll take your deal, but then we are square, that I don’t owe you jack.”

Trinity nodded her head.

“Say it, Trin.”

“I vow that if you help us and keep your word, your debt to me will be paid in full.”

That seemed to satisfy him and he nodded his head.

“There is a spell. It’s ancient, and dangerous, and it means I’m going to need Phoenix blood.” He looked at Athera who was still peering out behind Archer.

Laz rolled his eyes. “Oh, go sit down. I’m not going to eat the Phoenix.”

“How much blood?” Archer asked.

“No more than a pint.”

“No…keeping any for later use, Laz,” Trinity warned.

He made a rude sound. “Duh.”

Laz led them down to a basement, then down even lower to a sub-basement. His house was a maze of twists and turns and Athera wasn’t sure she could find her way back out again if she had to.

Deep under the house, Laz came to a solid wooden door that looked like it came out of some fantasy epic or castle. The wood was dark, stained from use and years, and it had steel bands coming from the hinges across the front of the door.

He stopped and laid his palm flat against the wood. Giving it a loving stroke, a half smile curled on his lips as he turned his face toward the group.

“This room is sacred to me, and with good reason. I don’t allow visitors inside of it. So, please, don’t touch anything, stand where I tell you to stand and don’t move.” His expression became stern. “If you don’t obey my instructions to the letter, I can’t guarantee your safety. You got it?”

There was a collective murmur of agreement and Laz turned his face back toward the door. He murmured something under his breath that Athera couldn’t hear, and pushed at the dark wood.

The door swung wide open on silent hinges and the smell assailed them. It was so thick and cloying that Athera felt bile rise in her throat.

The room smelled like old death, herbs, and…
formaldehyde?

“When we move in, go stand in the left hand side of the room by the racks and don’t move from there unless I say so.”

He led the way into the room and Athera looked around the place as she followed the others to the left.

The space was cavernous and dark. Ancient looking torches hung in intervals on the wall, and with a word, Laz lit them, the shadows dancing around the room as the flames of the torches reacted to the breeze from the door.

In the center of the room was a large circle drawn onto the floor. It had strange markings all around it, symbols Athera didn’t recognize. She didn’t know what it was drawn in either, but it had the faded dark color of old blood.

The shelves that lined the walls were interesting. The one closest to the huge worktable contained volumes so old, she could smell the ancient paper over the smell of decay. Scrolls were stacked in neat order on the left hand side of the shelf, cared for with obvious reverence. Laz moved over to the shelf and started reading spines. He was looking for something in particular by the way he was scanning the tomes.

Athera looked behind her at the shelf they were standing against and wanted to bolt. It contained jars of every shape and size, filled with milky fluid and specimens, bits and pieces of creatures that once breathed. She shuddered and took one step forward. That shelf was
not
the kind of thing you wanted at your back. Not if you had a healthy imagination—and there was nothing wrong with hers.

“Ah. I knew it was here.” Laz’s voice held a note of victory.

“Okay, Phoenix, come over here.”

Archer took a step with her, but she held out an arm. “It’s okay. I don’t think he’s going to drain me.” With a reassuring smile in his direction, she walked across the room toward Laz.

“Stop!” he yelled, holding his hand out and almost dropping the tome he held.

Athera stopped mid step.

“Walk around the circle—never walk through it.”

Athera looked down. She’d been about to step through the outside lines of the circle when she noted that the ground inside the circle was raw earth.

She put her feet together, then turned and walked around the outside perimeter of the circle, and she could have sworn she heard Laz breathe out in relief.

“You don’t know much about magic or necromancy, do you?” he asked her.

“What gave you that idea?” Athera flashed him a grin that he returned.

He picked up a blade. The handle seemed to be made of bone, and the blade was wavy, not straight.

“What’s that?” Athera asked.

“It’s called an Athame. It’s a ceremonial blade used for spells. Give me your hand.”

Athera eyed the blade with apprehension, but she reached out, depositing her hand in Laz’s big palm. She nearly jerked it back because his skin was freezer cold.

“I run at low temperatures.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.”

She nodded and heard a mutter from the other side of the room.

“Calm down, Archer. I’m fine.” Athera saw Scarlet weave her fingers through the werewolf’s fingers and he settled down. The presence of his
she
soothed him.

“This will sting.” It was all the warning Laz gave her before he used the Athame to slice into the meaty part of her palm.

Athera let out a hiss, and he tipped her hand catching the free flowing blood in a stone dish.

It felt like forever before he was satisfied with the amount. He lifted her hand again, and reached for some cotton wool and put it over the wound, pressing down.

“It should heal in a moment. The Athame stopped it from healing closed immediately. You can go back to the others now. Thank you for your sacrifice.”

The last seemed formal, and he leaned forward to lay chilled lips on her forehead, a kiss of reverence.

Athera said nothing, and was careful to walk around the circle on her way back to the others. Trinity was at her side in an instant checking the wound and muttering soothing nothings at Ath.

“I’m fine, Trin, so stop fretting.”

They watched as Laz moved between the shelves, collecting ingredients. He added them one by one to the stone bowl he’d collected Ath’s blood in as he consulted the book he had open on the workbench.

The last thing he added was a handful of salt. Then, he picked up a wooden spoon and mixed it all together well.

“You should go audition for
Master Chef
,” Trinity quipped.

“Quiet, Trin. I’m working here.”

“Oh, excuse me for breathing.”

He shot her a dirty look, and then turned back to mixing the ingredients. He muttered words in what sounded like Latin to Ath.

Then he picked up a large flat-ended brush and the bowl. He turned towards the circle and breathed in deep, exhaling with a glacial slowness.

He bent over, dipping the brush in the mixture, then started to paint around the circle, his voice rising and falling as he chanted in Latin.

He paused his chanting to say. “When I stop, you will see something that will

probably freak you out completely.”

“I need you all to keep your reactions to yourselves, you copy?”

“So, warn us on what’s going to freak us out?”

“Trinity, for once in your immortal life, can you follow an instruction without arguing about it first?”

Trinity lifted her hand to her forehead in mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He gave a weary sigh, but then, went back to his chanting, the cadence of his voice rising and falling. He completed the circle and stepped away, turning to put the bowl back down on the workbench.

Laz turned back toward the circle and bowed his head. Clasping his hands together in front of his chest, he started to chant again.

He must have chanted for two or three minutes, but it felt like an eternity as Athera watched Laz work.

With one final word, Laz swung his arms out from his chest, holding them up at shoulder height.

Athera was so fascinated, she nearly missed it.

In the middle of the circle, the ground had started to move, shifting as if there was some kind of animal burrowing up from underneath.

Athera was still trying to figure out exactly what was happening with the earth when a hand shot through the ground, fingers clawing at the air.

Chapter Nine

Athera heard Scarlet squeal, and jars rattle as the other phoenix jumped, her back hitting the shelf behind her.

“You are safe outside the circle,” Trinity said in a low voice. “But keep quiet. Laz is battling at the moment.”

“Battling?” Athera whispered to Trinity.

“He has to pit his will against the will of whoever is buried there. I’m sure it’s not someone weak or easy. Laz wouldn’t have a main soul that was weak.” Trinity didn’t turn her head toward Athera as she spoke. She kept her eyes on the scene unfolding in front of them.