her feet in a flash. This time she didn’t wait for him. She went straight for his face again, kicked him in the stomach, the balls—though she wasn’t sure it would do her much good, since he was clearly not human underneath. He shied away from her blows, but she wasn’t hurting him.
Edgar rushed her unexpectedly, using his weight against her, and pressed her against the wall, again, somehow contriving to pin her down so that she was rendered immobile. “You’re good,” he whispered. “And so hot. How tight are you down there? Have you ever—don’t even think about that,” he admonished her, as she tried to butt him in the head again.
He pressed his lips against hers, slipping his tongue—far too long for it to be an actual human’s tongue—down her throat. She gagged, and bit down. He yelled, “You bitch!” and slapped her, but not before she’d gotten a taste of his blood—
A bowl, filled with ashes—and her fiery blood. A whiff of sage smoke in the air. A hand on her shoulder. Her own hands, saying the words as she added the sacred earth to the bowl, a lock of her hair, and the pure water from the silver pitcher. Setting everything on the fire. Watching it all burn. Feeling the flames in her blood. Naming her secret name, whispering it to the flames .
She was reminded of who she was. She whispered her name to herself, and the flames in her blood grew and she herself began to burn. Edgar’s face lit up. “Yesssss! I knew it! You are one of them !”
She spoke words that came to her as they would from a dream, and she felt herself grow stronger and lighter, becoming a being of incandescent fire and fury. Edgar shed the skin he wore, revealing himself to be a sliver of pure darkness—a dark so complete it was a blistering cold. He slid against her, bringing her back to her human body, freezing it, killing her slowly. There’s nothing you can do , sweet bird . She wasn’t sure if he spoke the words, or if she only thought them.
It wasn’t until he was freezing the last breath from her body that he realized his mistake—in taking her flame, he’d consumed her—and she was a phoenix. She would rise again, and now that she knew her true name—
“I obliterate the darkness with my light,” she murmured, remembering the oath she’d taken. Inside Edgar, nothing could live for very long, but just a spark was enough—a spark of flame shattered the darkness, brought something into the void—and before she died again, she heard his agonized screams.
When Alexa came to again, she was on the floor, almost completely drained of energy. This was odd to her—she’d never resurrected so quickly before, but then she heard Felicia’s death rattle, and she knew what’d happened: her body, searching for the energy she needed to live had forcefully taken everything it could from Felicia, which had already been draining away since the start. “No,” Alexa croaked. She had not fought off a demon and died just to lose Felicia forever. But Alexa couldn’t move. Her own limbs were still cold and stiff from having been kissed by whatever the hell Edgar was. She did the only thing she could—she opened her heart to Felicia, and poured her life giving fire into her.
Chapter Fifteen
Felicia awoke, still on the floor. But she had been covered, at least, with a blanket. “Good to see you’re awake.”
A small, bookish man with round glasses took out a knife. The sight of the metal brought back everything that Edgar had done to her—all the cuts he’d made, the pain he’d put her through, how he’d violated her, forced her to say she wanted more—it all flooded back to her and she shrieked and pulled away. The blanket fell away, and between the humiliation and the pain she was still in, she couldn’t decide which was of the two was worse and her indecision paralyzed her. All she could do was cry.
Michael
Edgar rushed her unexpectedly, using his weight against her, and pressed her against the wall, again, somehow contriving to pin her down so that she was rendered immobile. “You’re good,” he whispered. “And so hot. How tight are you down there? Have you ever—don’t even think about that,” he admonished her, as she tried to butt him in the head again.
He pressed his lips against hers, slipping his tongue—far too long for it to be an actual human’s tongue—down her throat. She gagged, and bit down. He yelled, “You bitch!” and slapped her, but not before she’d gotten a taste of his blood—
A bowl, filled with ashes—and her fiery blood. A whiff of sage smoke in the air. A hand on her shoulder. Her own hands, saying the words as she added the sacred earth to the bowl, a lock of her hair, and the pure water from the silver pitcher. Setting everything on the fire. Watching it all burn. Feeling the flames in her blood. Naming her secret name, whispering it to the flames .
She was reminded of who she was. She whispered her name to herself, and the flames in her blood grew and she herself began to burn. Edgar’s face lit up. “Yesssss! I knew it! You are one of them !”
She spoke words that came to her as they would from a dream, and she felt herself grow stronger and lighter, becoming a being of incandescent fire and fury. Edgar shed the skin he wore, revealing himself to be a sliver of pure darkness—a dark so complete it was a blistering cold. He slid against her, bringing her back to her human body, freezing it, killing her slowly. There’s nothing you can do , sweet bird . She wasn’t sure if he spoke the words, or if she only thought them.
It wasn’t until he was freezing the last breath from her body that he realized his mistake—in taking her flame, he’d consumed her—and she was a phoenix. She would rise again, and now that she knew her true name—
“I obliterate the darkness with my light,” she murmured, remembering the oath she’d taken. Inside Edgar, nothing could live for very long, but just a spark was enough—a spark of flame shattered the darkness, brought something into the void—and before she died again, she heard his agonized screams.
When Alexa came to again, she was on the floor, almost completely drained of energy. This was odd to her—she’d never resurrected so quickly before, but then she heard Felicia’s death rattle, and she knew what’d happened: her body, searching for the energy she needed to live had forcefully taken everything it could from Felicia, which had already been draining away since the start. “No,” Alexa croaked. She had not fought off a demon and died just to lose Felicia forever. But Alexa couldn’t move. Her own limbs were still cold and stiff from having been kissed by whatever the hell Edgar was. She did the only thing she could—she opened her heart to Felicia, and poured her life giving fire into her.
Chapter Fifteen
Felicia awoke, still on the floor. But she had been covered, at least, with a blanket. “Good to see you’re awake.”
A small, bookish man with round glasses took out a knife. The sight of the metal brought back everything that Edgar had done to her—all the cuts he’d made, the pain he’d put her through, how he’d violated her, forced her to say she wanted more—it all flooded back to her and she shrieked and pulled away. The blanket fell away, and between the humiliation and the pain she was still in, she couldn’t decide which was of the two was worse and her indecision paralyzed her. All she could do was cry.
Michael
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