Phoenix (28 page)

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Authors: Dawn Rae Miller

BOOK: Phoenix
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"My brain is just fine, thank you." It's a lie, but I don't want Ryker - fearless Ryker - to see how scared I am of the whole ordeal.

"Let's call it a day. You're exhausted, I can see it in the way you hold your shoulders," Ryker says. "You didn't get enough sleep last night and that's the first rule of being an assassin - always be well rested with a clear mind."

A long yawn rumbles out of me. There's no point in hiding it. "I could use a nap."

Beck offers me his arm. "Shall we?"

I link my arm through his and allow him to drag me into the nothingness of transporting.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

No sooner do we land in my foyer, then Annalise and Landon are at my side, shoving tablets at me. There's no break, no hellos, just work. No one cares that I'm exhausted and need sleep. All that matters is the job. The never-ending job.

I take Annalise's tablet from her hands. "What am I looking at?"

"Food production from the six Ag Centers."

"And?" I say, reading the graph.

"Production is at the highest levels we've seen in years. The Eastern Light witches are doing a fantastic job." My sister-in-law is too perky, too upbeat. "There seems to be no indication of deception on the part of Eastern Society. And," she says, tapping the screen. "Some of our own Light witches have come back."

I narrow my eyes at this news. "Who and why?"

"I think they're seeking refuge." Annalise runs down the list of names, but the only one I recognize is Crispin.
 

"What's the bad news?" I ask.

Landon hands me his tablet. "The refugees. Until recently, San Francisco has been predominately a Dark strong hold. We had Light witches - like Henry - but they were few and far between."
 

"So?" I ask, wondering where this is going.

He licks his lips. "Neither side trusts the other, and it's manifesting into scuffles in the street."

"Scuffles?" I read down the tablet. "There were sixteen instances of conflict yesterday? Why am I just hearing about this?" Suddenly, that nap I so desperately need feels farther and farther away.
 

"We have it under control, Lark," Annalise says. "Eloise has even managed to convince a few to take positions within the State. None have been offered Council seats, but things are going to be okay." She rests her hand on her stomach and moans.
 

Both Landon and I move to her side. "Are you okay?" I ask.

She moans again and grips my arm so tightly, her fingernails dig into my skin. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Ryker," I order my guard. "Call for the healer."

"Do you want to sit?" I ask, not sure what to do.

Her ponytail whips back-and-forth. "No," she pants. "I think the baby is coming."

I laugh, not at her pain, but out of excitement. "I think you are right."

#

The healer couldn't arrive soon enough. He and his team set up shop in Annalise's bedroom and gingerly move her up the stairs and down the hallway. Every so often, she gasps in pain, but for the most part, she's silent. Her face is a stone mask of determination.

"Wait out here," the healer orders Beck, Ryker, and me. "The room is too crowded."

Relief washes over Ryker's face, and I teasingly punch him in the side. "What's wrong Mr. Tough Guy? Can't handle a little blood and pain?"

Annalise lets out a long wail, and Ryker blanches. "Can we sit downstairs?"

"Sure," I say, leading everyone down the long hallway to the stairs. "You go ahead. I'm going back to check on Annalise."

The two boys scurry away as if having been just released from prison. I suppress a laugh and turn back toward Annalise's room.

I don't bother knocking, and when I enter, I'm shocked at the scene. Poor Annalise is crouched down on her bed, tears running down her face. She doesn't notice my arrival.

"It hurts," she cries. "Can't someone make it stop?"

"Not now, Annalise. You're too far along." The healer stands next to the bed. "You'll feel better soon."

I've never seen a baby be born before and am fascinated. I move deeper into the room. My magic tingles along my fingertips as I soak up Annalise's pain.

"You're not supposed to be in here," an assistant tells me, pushing me back out the door. It slams shut on me.

Normally, anger would boil inside me, but today, in this moment, I simply turn around and walk downstairs.

"How's she doing?" Beck asks. Ryker is missing.

I shrug. "I didn't get to see much. I was kicked out."

He laughs. "That doesn't happen often, does it?"

"Never."

I pace before the large picture window, stopping only when Annalise's cries infiltrate our silence. "Are you nervous?" I ask. "About what we need to do?"

Beck stands up and crosses the room to where I pace. He places both hands on my shoulders. "Yes, I'd be liar if I didn't admit I'm terrified. But not about facing down Callum. He doesn't scare me."

I wrap my arms around his torso. "Then what's frightening you?"

"What if I can't turn it off this time? What if I tap into my Dark magic and hurt you? What if taking Callum down brings me closer to madness."

I blink. I hadn't thought of that.

"We need a better plan," I say. "What if you're the distraction since your so much more stealth than me, and I do the actual dirty work."

Beck unwinds himself from me. "That's asking a lot of you, Birdie. Do you think you can do it?"

In the past, when I unleashed my hideous magic on another, I didn't plan it. It just happened. This is so different. I actually have to acknowledge that I'm planning on taking my brother's life. "Yes," I say. "I have to."

"You know, maybe we could capture him and imprison him for life."

I shake my head. "That wouldn't solve our problem. He'd still have followers and still be able to cause us problems."

"So you're sure?"

"Absolutely," I answer. Even though I wish Beck's suggestion would work, I know in my heart there is only one way for us to ever be safe from Callum.

A shrill yell of pain pierces the silence between Beck and me, and we both jump.
 

"Poor Annalise," I say. "But just think, there's going to be a baby after all this. And that's something to look forward to."

Beck's wide eyes grow even wider. "I don't think I could stand to see you in that much pain. It would kill me." Like me, Beck hasn't been around babies or laboring women, and his reaction amuses me.

"See," I say. "Women
are
tougher than men."

He dips his head in agreement. "You've already proven that to me."

I smile and stand tip-toe to kiss his cheek. Then I take his hand and lead him over to the couch. When he's seated, I curl onto his lap, and Beck's hand tangles in my hair, gently pulling it. I moan, and he kisses my neck. "Maybe if we had a baby of our own, the witches would unite behind us."

I laugh. "I'm not going through that," I tilt my chin up toward the ceiling. "Just to get a bunch of stubborn witches to work together. And besides, we have more important things to worry about."

Beck runs his hands over my arms and back up to my face. He cups my chin and kisses me softly. "Are you sure?"

A giggle tumbles out of me. "Positive." I rest my head against his shoulder. "At least for now. Let's right the world first, then we can talk about babies."

From the doorway, someone clears their throat. I turn, expecting to see Ryker, but am greeted by a healer.

"Miss Lark, she's asking for you."

I spring out of Beck's lap and bounce across the room. Beck's deep laugh envelops me. "Someone is just a little bit excited."

Looking back over my shoulder, I flash him a giant smile. "Maybe just a little."

My feet can't carry me up the stairs fast enough, and I nearly trip in excitement. The healer must think I'm crazy.
 

When I reach the end of the hall, I hear it: the soft mews of a baby. I pause outside the door, waiting for an invitation inside. Annalise spies me, and a wide smile stretches across her cherry red lips. In her arms is a tiny bundle. Her raven black hair falls like ribbons over her shoulders and pools on the baby's head.
 

"What is it?" I blurt.

Annalise laughs. "
It
is a baby. A little girl."

I inch closer, curious about the small bundle, but nervous I may somehow hurt the tiny infant with just my presence.

"It's okay, Lark. She won't bite you. She doesn't have teeth." My sister-in-law laughs at her joke.

Standing next to Annalise's bedside, I peer down at the baby. Her gray-blue eyes stare up at me, and her pink lips pucker in a funny way. She's not exactly cute, but she's the most adorable thing I've seen.

"Have you named her yet?"
 

My sister-in-law nods. "Olivia, after her father."

"That's sweet. I like it."

"Would you like to hold her?" Annalise asks.
 

Honestly, I'm a little afraid I may drop her or break her in some way. "I don't know. Are you sure it's safe?"

"I have absolute confidence in you," she answers.

With shaking hands, I reach down and gently pluck Olivia from Annalise's arms.
 

"Just rest her head in the crook of you arm," Annalise instructs. "It's easy."

I stand stiffly holding my sort-of-niece, watching her watch me. At least I think she's watching me. Her eyes look glazed over and sleepy. After a few moments, I hand Olivia back to Annalise.
 

My sister-in-law doesn't seem offended. In fact, she seems enraptured by Olivia, tracing her fingertips over the baby's tiny, curled fingers.

"How are you going to take care of Olivia and work? Are you going to send her to school?"

Annalise's blanches. "No. No, my daughter will stay home with me."

"Then what are your plans?"

"My plan is to go back to work and hire a caretaker for Olivia." When I begin to object she holds up her hand. "I need to earn money somehow. Besides, I like working, Lark. It gives me purpose."

"Doesn't Olivia do that now?"

Annalise shakes her head, "It's a different kind of purpose. I feel like I'm making the world safer for her." Her steel blue eyes meet mine. "You're making the world safer for her."

The enormity of the statement sinks in. I am responsible for hundreds, if not thousands, of little Olivias. If Callum wins, they will grow up knowing only strife and conflict.

I can't let that happen.

My gaze bounces between the baby and Annalise, and my resolve hardens.
 

I have to confront my brother, if not for my own safety, then for all those depending on me - even if they don't know it.
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

After I leave Annalise and the baby, I quickly summon warmer clothes and change. Next, I ping Beck and Ryker, alerting them to my sudden change of plans.
 

Ryker catches me in the hallway as I'm striding toward the stairs. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"Preparing to eliminate the target," I respond, using his language. "I have to do it now."

"Is Annalise okay with this?"

I sit down on the stairs and pull on my warm boots. "She doesn't know."

"Lark-"

I hold up my hand. "I have to do this."

"At least let me come with you and Beck." Ryker pleads. The desperation in his voice is obvious. It's funny that not so long ago, I worried about him killing me, and now he's fighting to protect me.

"We'll be fine," I lie as I run through a mental checklist of what I know: Callum is in Vancouver, he can transport, he likes to hide behind others...which means Beck and I may run into the whole of the Splinter group.

"Lark, you don't have to do this. Really, you don't." Beck slides up behind me. "We can wait him out, make him come to us."

I furrow my brow. "No," I say. "That's what he expects of me. It's how I always behave."

"So we're really going to chase him across the frozen North, just so you can prove a point?"

"The point, Beck, is that I'm trying to keep our kind - no, actually everyone - safe." My hands are on my hips. "If you're not on board, then don't come."

He recoils slightly. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just worried we're walking into a trap."

Ryker offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. "Be safe," he says. "You too, Beck."

With a flick of my hand, I cast a warming spell around Beck and me. Temperatures this time of year in Vancouver hover around negative ten. If we're worried about our warmth, we won't be able to focus on the task at hand.

"Lark," Ryker says. "Do just like we practiced. Let Beck draw Callum out. Wait."

"I know," I say. "I'm impatient, not stupid." But all I can think of is that I am impatient. Very impatient.

What am I getting into?

I hold out my hand to Beck, who has also changed into warmer clothes. His large hand dwarfs mine, making me feel somewhat safer in an odd way.
 

With a quick dip of my head, and before I loose my nerve, I step and spin into the black vortex of transporting. When my foot strikes solid ground, I open my eyes slowly, woozy from the movement through space. Once I'm positive I won't tip over, I survey my surroundings. Huge cliffs line my right side and the violent ocean is to my left. Beck is no where to be seen.

I'm on the beach where we used to play at as children. Looking now at the steep cliffs, I wonder how Beck and I ever got down here without hurting ourselves. We must have been using magic and not realizing it.
 

How vulnerable Mother made me by not telling me the truth. How vulnerable all the witch children in my society will be if Callum wins.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, and transport to the top of the cliffs. Beck is standing on top of the bluff, a few yards off from me. He yells something, but it's lost in the never-ending howl of the violent wind.
 

To my left, the Pacific Ocean stretches before me like an untamed animal. It slams into the coastline and drags away half the beach. In the distance sits Mother's house, lit up like a thousand people are inside. Which there may well be. Beck and I have no way of knowing until we get closer.

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