Free Sable Book 1 of Chaos Time (Chaos Time Series) by Marie Hall Page B

spitting, but along her arms it was the deep blue of intense heat. She laughed. Flames shot out her mouth. Her hair crackled and snapped around her face like medusa’s snakes.
    It didn’t hurt this time, and with that thought came a wave of relief.
    Her tree shivered, becoming shrouded in a dense heat wave. It rippled off the bark like asphalt under a hot desert sun. The leaves exploded, snapping with crimson sparks and fire burned. With a cry of joy, Sable jumped into the air and right before her feet touched ground she shifted, powerful wings flapping and finding a current to ride. She shot up, a graceful dancer surveying her land and then with a glass shattering call, dived in a tight spiral into the heart of fire.
    The phoenix had returned.

Chapter 8: Betrayal in the dreaming
    Eyes scanning, scenting the air and smelling no others about, the phoenix dropped to the rocky cliff’s ledge and shifted back to her alter form. She was several miles above ground, surveying an endless expanse of hot jungle below. The earthy richness mingled with the fire smoke burning in the distance. Though it was well past midnight the people’s steady chanting continued. A superstitious lot. The sight of the blood moon had immediately demanded worship and sacrifice. A god was about.
    She snorted. He’d like to think so anyway. But a god wouldn’t hide in a cave like a coward. He was here. After all these years, finally, finally she tasted victory.
    She ignored the nagging suspicion that it had been too easy. All the near misses and battles and this was how it would end?
    She turned and entered the impossibly dark and yawning stony mouth. She hugged the rock as she walked along, tiptoeing, making no noise. She was a predator in any form. Killing was what she did and she did it well.
    A constant drip of water echoed like a hammer striking a nail. The acoustics were amazing in this place. She couldn’t smell him. Couldn’t see any light, but she heard the scratchy skip of a record player dragging along vinyl. The almost diabolical energy of Beethoven’s symphony pulsed with low frequency waves even she couldn’t hear, but could feel rush electric along her skin. Pebbles skipped and bounced in tandem.
    She took a breath every five steps, keeping to her pace. Not rushing herself, knowing one wrong move and he’d vanish.
    She was so close.
    Hunter had told her to wait for back-up. But how could he even ask her that? She was a hunter, a killer that was not only good, but loved what she did. Watching blood spill for her was like being given diamonds to another. It was her high. Her obsession. She would take him down. Then maybe Hunter would finally see how powerful she really was. Maybe then she’d finally earn his respect. But then again...maybe she no longer wanted his validation.
    After twenty years of near misses, finally they knew Dragden’s location. Excitement welled up inside her, making her skin tingle. All she kept picturing was sinking her curved dagger into his neck and watching with glee as he gave up the ghost and her phoenix bathed in his blood. Her fingers curled just thinking about it.
    What felt like a thousand breaths later, she finally saw a faint blue glow creep along the rock face. Heart pounding and adrenaline pumping so high she could almost taste it; she rounded the final bend and saw him.
    His back was to her and he was kneeling, head bowed. He wore all black; black so deep it seemed to absorb the light around him, shrouding him in an inky well of semi-transparent shadow.
    Blonde hair hung long and free down his back. But to only call it blonde would be an understatement. The stuff gleamed in differing shades of it—from buttery soft yellow, to a burnished golden hue, and everything in between.
    Even a good fifty paces away from him her sensitive nostrils picked up his faint scent of sweat mixed with an earthy musk all his own. It was appealing and right then a conflict began to brew deep inside her soul. A worm