Free Phoenix Rising by Heather R. Blair Page B

the dark river, making Miles' stomach knot.
    "Things aren't always what they seem." Justin spoke from his right elbow, his voice cautious, but calm. He knew very well his employer's temper was kept in line by slimmest of margins, and that Miles was by far the most dangerous creature imaginable at the moment, but Justin was ever d'un calme à toute épreuve . A very cool customer indeed, as Miles had reason enough to know.
    "Tell me.”
    If Justin noticed Miles' eyes had an unholy sheen as he looked down on him, it didn't show in his voice.
    "That is the car the airport has registered to Phoenix Inc., but there were no bodies found inside of it or near its position in the river. Or so the Gendarmerie say. They are not pleased at our intrusion."
    "Fuck them."
    "As you say, my Lord.” Justin's voice was beyond blasé as he held up something sparkly one of the divers had scooped up from the river bottom. "But they did find this. Do you recognize it?"
    The security officer dropped the piece of delicately worked silver into Miles’ upturned hand.
    Miles didn't answer.
    His thoughts slid back as he stared down at his palm.
    That perfect Paris night, both of them slightly drunk. There had been a gallery opening, an artist who was obsessed with hot-air balloons and had a silly name that made Kelsey giggle. The critics hated him, but Kelsey had been angry at their cruelty.
    ‘Aw, but they are so fun and beautiful!’ she'd said, tossing her head and studying the riot of colorful canvases. All Miles had been able to think, as he looked at her, was that he would never see beautiful the same way again. Kelsey had rewritten the meaning of that word for him.
    That was the first night they had made love. He'd had the charm made for her the very next day.
    He’d had no idea she still wore it.
    The tiny bunch of silver balloons dangled and dripped over his fingers as he finally raised his eyes to Justin. This time even the tough little security guard’s insides quivered in cold watery fear as he saw the white-blue flash of Miles' eyes.
    "Find her."
     
    The wind was moaning. Kelsey wished it would be quiet and let her sleep. God, but her head hurt so bad. She tried to shift it just a little and the wind got louder.
    Oh okay…so that wasn't the wind moaning.
    It was her.
    Kelsey blinked and almost screamed at the faint light of the sliver moon against her eyes. Kelsey suddenly realized that she hurt literally everywhere, but her head was so excruciatingly sensitive it was dulling everything else.
    And something was wrong. Not just in her body, but in her mind. Something was muffling the gossamer threads of her psychic powers, like a hand on guitar strings. They were silent, trying to tremble, but stifled.
    She cracked her eyes cautiously again. It was a garden. The type of walled stone garden one often finds in Paris. Trellis flowers and a fountain that would undoubtedly splash summertime fun for all on a heated August day. But now it was night.
    And cold. And silent.
    The marble statues seemed to gleam like bone. Dragons with bared teeth and goblins with leering faces and werewolves with wild eyes....oh my.
    They forgot the vampires , she thought woozily. The trellis dripped with eerie, white night-blooming jasmine that sent their heavy scent into the air and the fountain splashed over a demon's wide open mouth.
    Okay, totally creepy. Let's go.
    Kelsey tried to rise from the icy bench she seemed to be lying on, only to have a voice freeze her in place. It was whispering, high and screechy, a man, yes...but off somehow in a way that was very familiar.
    "She dies, but I dearly want to enjoy this."
    A deeper, stronger voice tinged with disgust. "Your indulgence could mean our lives. Kill her now...or he will find her—and us. " The tone of the second voice had colored ever so slightly with fear.
    "He loved her once, he will come."
    "Sure of that, are you?" The deeper voice roughened again with blatant sarcasm.
    "Silly Felix, hate and love