Blue Ruin (The Phoenix Series Book 1) Read online

  Maura grunted. “A girl can’t take a piss in something other than a bedpan?”

  “How far did you think you were going to get?” Neil chuckled.

  Sarah gathered Maura’s feet into her arms and swung them onto the mattress. Her less than gentle touch stung healing edges of flesh. Maura clutched the bed rail until the pain subsided.

  “Will you let us give you the damn pain medicine?” Neil snapped, locking the rails in place.

  “Will you let me leave?”

  “I guess that’s a no.” He fumbled with detached leads, untangling the mess of wires, and shot a pointed look with his blue eyes. “Some people are here to see you. After you speak with them, we can talk about your discharge.” The last of the leads now connected, Neil wagged a finger. “Behave yourself.”

  Sarah and Neil left as three others walked in.

  Two men with black spiked hair and matching blue uniforms walked behind a strawberry blonde woman. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, showing off her slender neck. The pale blue uniform – a thick suit jacket with silver buttons and trim – matched her eyes. The silver thread spinning around the outer rim of her irises gave away her Mystic abilities.

  Keep officials.

  One man scraped a chair along the fake tiled floor and presented it to the woman. As she sat, both men stood guard at the door with their arms folded across their chests. The second man released a Seal spell over the locks, preventing anyone from entering or leaving.

  Maura’s breathing hitched. “Who are you?”

  “Maxine Robins. That’s Lenny.” The man to the left of the door nodded. “And that’s Derek. We are part of a private protection agency–”

  “Aegis,” Maura groaned.

  Max smiled, fishing out a file from her messenger bag. “You know who we are. That makes my job much simpler.” She placed a folder across the bed. “Heidi found you and contacted us. She suspected you would need our help.”

  Maura scanned the notes Elixirs had made. Third-degree burns. Lacerations. Torn ligaments. Countless amounts of potions used to nurse her back to health littered a once clean medical file.

  “Elixirs caring for you are in agreement,” Max said.

  “They won’t let me leave unless I say I’ll go with you, right?”

  “This is a severe matter.” Digging deep into her bag, she yanked out a silver sheet and inkless pen. The silver absorbed the invisible ink, downloading all written information into an encrypted database.

  Max activated the spellbound pen with a click of a button. “There are some preliminary questions we need to take care of.”

  “I’ll need to see some form of proof that you are who you say you are before I start giving confidential information.”

  Max reached into her breast pocket and retrieved a thin card.

  Maura stroked its plain canvas, waiting for the blue hologram to appear. Gold rimmed the edges of the turquoise, spinning in and out to piece together Max’s name and identification number. After a quick shake of the aged card, the official seal of The Keep floated behind her profile picture.

  “Name: Beth Hollings,” Maura said. “Collector identification number: 7799.”

  Max asked for an address, phone number and wanted to know how long Maura had lived in Connecticut. As she rounded to more detailed questions, Maura tried to keep answers as simple as possible.

  What division had she been assigned? The Collectors.

  How many years had she put on as a Collector? Twenty.

  Who were her primary leads? Adrian Wilhelm.

  And when it came time to fill out a personal biography for her files, Maura tried to maintain a steady voice.

  Family? No.

  Children? No.

  Any significant others that needed to be contacted? No.

  “Elixirs documented that your Signet has been damaged.” Max pulled a metal tube, the width of a thick pen, from an outer pouch of her bag. Red beams from its glass end wiggled in the space between them. “I need to scan what’s left for our records.”

  “When I was hired as a Collector they scanned me. Surely if you have access to my restricted files, you can find that information.”

  “Your work records are twenty years old.”

  “And?”

  “It’s time for an update.” She activated the scanner.

  Maura rolled her eyes and pulled up the hospital gown. Faded silver lines, masked by pink scars, rested beneath a healing wound beside her ribs. The mark of her family had been tattooed with magic into her skin. It was once a Phoenix coated in a layer of shimmering silver. Now it was a tangle of old and new scars.

  Max’s eyes widened. Her fingers loosened, and the scanner fell. She spun in her chair to the door. “Lenny, Derek, would you excuse Ms. Hollings and me.”

  They departed without question and resealed the door. The archway glowed turquoise until the charm soaked in and disappeared.

  “What is your age?” Max asked.

  Maura lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Pinprick holes, like someone had thrown thumb tacks into the air, marred the plaster tiles.

  Max glided the scanner over the remains of the Signet.

  “My family lineage dates back to the late 1700’s,” Maura said, rolling the gown down, catching Max’s stunned eyes.

  “And yourself?” Max said. “I won’t hesitate to use a Clarity Stone to get the answer from you.”

  Maura clenched her fists tighter. “1792.”

  Max leaned on the bed, crumpling papers under her elbows. “What was your family? You can't tell me you're a Mystic. You and I both know the oldest Mystic still alive is only one-hundred-fifty-four. So what are you?”

  Maura stiffened. Revealing she was an Abysmal was a death sentence. Revealing she was Maura Leroux was the beginning of a war. Max could arrest her, bring her to the courts. Kill her. Or try to. No one would know. No one would care when they found out she was an Abysmal.

  Max tossed the Clarity Stone onto the bed. Its translucent form filled with a faint turquoise at the sensation of nearby magic. The color rolled within its center like waves washing ashore.

  “Either you tell me what I want to hear. Or,” Max motioned with her eyes to the stone, “you'll show me what I need to know.”

  Maura set her jaw, gritted her teeth at the taste of the lingering word. She relaxed her shoulders and covered the stone with the blankets. “Vessel.”

  Max’s eyes blazed with delight. She sank into her chair. Her lips twisted into a breathless smile. “I didn’t think any of you still existed. You’ve had to kill a lot of people to stay alive for as long as you have, correct?”

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  “It’s quite relevant if I want to make sure those you are housing with are safe.” Her casual smile hardened into a tight line. “How much time did you steal from the last Mystic you murdered?”

  “Steal is a very harsh word.”

  “You didn’t exactly borrow it.”

  “Twenty-three years.” Lie. Cursed with immortality, she hadn't had to kill for life in centuries. She couldn't tell Max. Not many immortals were wandering around. Only those that were being hunted, like Adrian Wilhelm.

  Max jotted down the information.

  The life of a Vessel wasn’t an easy journey. Immorality, crime, and death littered the road they had to travel. They sacrificed their mortality to keep the world safe. When Vessels died, their black magic seeped into the world and tainted the pure. Black magic never died. It always looked for a host. As a result, The Keep established The Defense Forces, a department that hunted bodiless black magic from deceased Vessels.

  To avoid being tracked in the afterlife, Vessels were forced to use the Hands of Time spell religiously. In most Vessel homes, it was the first spell children learned. They killed another and stole their lifespan from them. All of that to keep evil bound by those who were capable of controlling it.

  But Mystics didn’t see the good Vessels were doing. Mystics only saw th
e bad Vessels could do. Vessels were evil. Constructed entirely of black magic. Unpredictable and dangerous. They were black holes, sucking the powers of those around them to make them their own.

  “Do I get to stay here in Erewhon?” Maura asked.

  “No.” Max looked up. “Vessels are not welcome in this world.”

  Maura would’ve liked to reside in Erewhon – the world of Mystics. Father always told her siblings and her the story of how a very powerful Mystic, Iden Winston, created a portal between Erewhon and the Mundane. He’d end the story by saying they should be grateful for Iden. But Mystics banned any magical being, other than pure Mystics, from entering their world.

  “Where are you sending me?”

  Beneath the sea of papers, Max retrieved a glossy pamphlet. Mystic Academy was scrolled in gold lettering over a black iron gate with cherry blossom trees lining the main drive.

  “You’re shitting me.”

  Max responded with a blank stare.

  Maura waved the thin pamphlet at eye level. “This is a boarding school for teenagers.”

  “And thanks to the young souls you’ve been stealing, you look their age.” Max snatched the brochure. “Adrian won't think to search for you in an academy.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Take classes? Learn about Mystic history I’ve already lived through?”

  “You’re more than welcome to live out your last twenty-three years in this room.” A victorious smirk flashed across her lips. “Don’t fight this. I send all of my refugees here. It’s the only school that teaches students to learn magic other than the magic they’d been born with.”

  “I’m a Vessel.” Maura flashed her fangs. “I don’t need to learn spells.”

  “You can’t continue killing others for their magic either.” Max shuffled her belongings into her bag, handing over a single sheet. “These are your discharge papers. By signing them, you agree to accept our help as well as relocate. If you do not sign these, you do not leave.” She shoved a charmed fountain pen into Maura’s hand.

  The pen's magic pulsed to the beat of Maura’s heart. Once she signed, the magic within the ink would activate and bind her name to the contract. If she disobeyed, she’d find herself in front of the courts within seconds.

  Maura scanned over the contract. The usual don't kill, harm or steal from the residents of Mystic Academy was bolded at the bottom. Scattered throughout the small text were the conditions. Be at the terminal at the agreed time. Board the proper flight. Arrive at Mystic Academy.

  “If you don’t sign, I will alert The Keep of your illegal presence here and they will be more than willing to execute you for being a Vessel.”

  She signed without protest, wanting to get the fuck out of this place. She just had to make it to Mystic Academy. Then she could leave. The contract doesn’t say I have to stay.

  “The conditions of your relocation will be discussed at a meeting with Jessica. She is the principal of the academy.” Max filed the contract away. “Your flight from Erewhon departs tomorrow at nine in the morning. I expect to see you in the terminal at eight. A limousine will be waiting for you out front at seven.” She twisted on her heels to depart.

  “I’m supposed to go like this?”

  “I’ve purchased clothing for you,” she said without turning.

  “I was talking about my identity.”

  Max swiveled around. “Is there a problem?”

  “In fact there is.” Maura forced a smile. “Adrian is looking for this face.”

  “Illusion spells are illegal here in Erewhon. We do not support the act of murder to aid in your protection. You’ve stolen time from others. Must you steal their identity as well?”

  “If I don’t get another identity, you're doing this all for nothing.”

  “I will send a disguise for you tonight.” Max silenced thoughts of protest with a stone cold glare. “You will wear that until you are in the safe confines of the academy. You have no reason to use an Illusion while residing there. It’s not like you will be leaving.”

  Chapter Five: Vera Hart

  Amy Lindbergh lugged her suitcases through security. Erewhon airports were laxer than Mundane airports her boyfriend had said, but the magic in their body scanners prickled her skin for hours after.

  She didn't understand why he couldn't visit her. For the last month, she decorated a small apartment for two in anticipation Allen would move in. To her dismay, he couldn't part with his place in Florida. Now she had to board a flight to the Mundane, spend the holiday hiding her magic from humans, and adjust to the idea that Florida was her future.

  After walking through the long advertisement-lined corridor, Amy emerged into the hub of the airport. A giant marble fountain with circular tiers shot water toward the tall dome skylight above. Balconies wound around the circular area. Janitors poured cleansing potions over spotless white marble floors and scraped brushes over black columns that made a border around the inner circle of the hub. Around the outer circle were restaurants and fast food joints. People sat in chairs on raised platforms around the fountain, eating their breakfasts and downing their coffees.

  Gwen Stefani sang from within Amy’s purse. She dropped her bags, her arm stinging from the strap cutting into her skin as it fell. She dug through the bag for her phone, tossing loose papers onto the ground. “Where the hell are you?”

  Amy found the phone in an outer pouch. She blushed, looking at the silent Mystics that watched her.

  “Hello,” she grumbled, tossing her toothbrush, hair ties, and bubble gum back into the bag.

  “Hey, babe.” Allen’s voice held a distinct smile. She pictured it on his face, the way his cheeks plumped out and eyes squinted. It reminded her why she was taking an early morning flight. Why she'd give up Erewhon for Florida.

  “You're up early. Couldn't sleep?”

  “I had to clean the house. I didn't want you seeing all the beer cans and lingerie.”

  She chuckled, swung the bag over her shoulder, and walked toward the bathroom. “Lucky for you, my flight has been delayed. I board at eleven instead of nine. You have time to get rid of your mistress.”

  “Good. I think she's still asleep in our bed.”

  “Any other girl would think you're serious.”

  “You aren't like any other girl.”

  “You're right.” She leaned against the bathroom door to push it open. “Most wouldn't leave Erewhon.”

  Allen sighed. “It's not forever.”

  Amy dropped her bags in the first stall. “It's not temporary either. My parents want to meet you. They don't understand why I keep leaving, why you never come here.”

  “The money is here, babe. Erewhon doesn't need computer techs.”

  “You could get a job as something else. Why you chose a human career still doesn't make sense to me.” Amy shimmied her pants to the ground and sat on the toilet. “You could've had a position at The Keep. Those jobs pay well. Our one bedroom apartment could be a seaside mansion.”

  “I know. I know,” Allen groaned. “Are you in the bathroom?”

  Amy stood and flushed. “Don't change the subject. Next holiday, you're coming here.”

  A set of footsteps echoed. A sink turned on, a woman humming over the sound.

  “I have to go,” Amy said. “Remember, I land at twelve. I love you.” She hung up, collected her things and exited the stall.

  A slender woman with long blonde hair and an indecipherable aura washed her hands at one of the many faucets nearby. She hunched over the sink, the edges of her shirt rising to expose the line of her bruised hips.

  Amy moved to turn on the tap at an empty sink beside her.

  “Do you know what time it is?” the woman asked.

  Amy looked at her watch. “7:23.”

  “Thanks. Nothing like a layover to make you lose all concept of time.”

  Amy laughed. “I’ve been there. What flight are you waiting for?”

  “I’ve been bumped to the first flight this m
orning to the Mundane.”

  Amy dried her hands, nodding. “I’ve been bumped to the second flight.” She tossed the crumpled brown paper into a bin. Missed. She smiled, bending over to place it in the garbage. “Best of luck catching that flight.”

  As Amy walked past, a sharp pinch radiated along her neck. Numbness followed. Her arms and legs felt as though they'd disintegrated into ash. She hit the floor hard. Panic surged with a cold sweat. Her heart pounded. The sound echoed in her ears.

  The woman leaned over her. Her black fangs expanded over blood red lips.

  ***

  Maura wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. The copper taste lingered on her lips. A taste she'd never gotten used to. Three hundred years of killing hadn’t callused her as she'd have liked.

  Numbed, she slouched against the wall, the dead girl at her feet.

  I needed the Illusion.

  The girl’s features melted away until she was faceless.

  I can't let Adrian find me.

  Maura’s skin tightened with the young woman’s appearance. Her dirty blonde hair turned black. Rounded cheeks slimmed, toned legs lengthened. The Illusion spell completed with a silver flash.

  Maura moved to a mirror. She stared into a face she'd never recognize as her own and punched the reflection. The glass shattered. Shards dropped into the sink with a series of clinks. Sharp pain sliced through her knuckles. She focused on it, allowed the pain to radiate into her bones and up her arm. She welcomed wave after wave, until the sting diminished with each pulse of her heart.

  I had to do this. The thought exhausted her.

  She clenched the edges of the sink, her grasp wet with blood. Idle tears stung her eyes.

  One breath, two breaths, three breaths in. Hold.

  Her lungs screamed under the pressure. The Void writhed. She expelled the air, the tears vanishing.

  She reached into her bag, retrieved a small silver pouch, and spilled its contents along the girl. A Hell’s Fire potion did wonders in cleaning up a mess. The liquid burned violet along the girl. In a flash, the violet flickered black and the girl was gone.