Wildfire Phoenix by Zoe Chant

Chapter 11

“No!”

The dream had barely started taking shape around them. Zephyr didn’t have a chance to get more than the briefest impression—sirens, strobing lights, a sky full of smoke—before Blaise’s violent psychic rejection threw them both back into gray clouds.

“Nope,” Blaise announced. She dropped his hand, backing away. “Absolutely not. Screw that.”

From the glimpse he’d caught, he couldn’t blame her for being unenthusiastic about the prospect of returning to that dream. If he’d had time, he would have tried to change it for her—but the clouds were swirling now, thinning. He was down to minutes at best.

“You have to go back, Blaise,” he said urgently. “That’s your dream. Your animal is waiting for you there. Can’t you feel it?”

“Of course I can!” She clenched her fists, shoulders bunching. “That’s why I’m damn well staying here!”

Her breath came in shallow pants. He was fairly certain she’d take a swing at him if he tried to pull her through to her own dream again. She wasn’t just frightened. Underneath the aggression and bravado, she was terrified.

“Oh,” he breathed, understanding at last. “Oh, Blaise. You have nightmares too.”

“Yeah, and given the choice, I’d rather not sit through my stupid brain showing yet another replay of Blaise: The Absolute Worst.” Her words and tone were flippant, but the whites showed all around her eyes, betraying her panic. “I mean, you’d think my subconscious would be able to find some new material, what with all the crazy shit from the past few years. It could at least throw in a nice relaxing nightmare about fighting demons in my underwear or something. You know, just for a change of pace.”

“I’m sorry.” He took a cautious step toward her. “I wish I could banish your nightmare, or at least endure it with you, but I can’t. We’re out of time. I’m so sorry, Blaise, but you have to go.”

“Sure, but not there.” She attempted a grin, which looked more like a trapped animal baring its teeth. “Hey, just drop me off at Callum’s beach, okay? Now that looked fun. Sun, sand, alcoholic turtles. What more could anyone want?”

“I can’t. That’s not where you belong.”

“No, but at least it wasn’t on fucking fire!”

Zephyr took her face between his hands. She didn’t pull away. He could feel the trembling tension in her body.

“Blaise.” For the last time, he looked into her eyes, wishing there was time to say all that he wanted to tell her. “I know you are frightened. But I also know that you are strong, incredibly strong, stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. That’s why I’m asking you to do this. I need you to be strong now, for both of us. Because I am scared. I am so, so scared that I won’t be able to control what is coming. I’m terrified that I might hurt you again. That’s why I need you to go back, away from here, away from me. Right now.”

She went absolutely still. Her eyes focused on him, the glassy fear clearing to reveal sudden comprehension, and feral determination.

“No,” he said, heart lurching. “Blaise, no—”

And that was as far as he got, before the storm swept over them.

The fog of dreams shredded in shrieking winds, revealing the endless sky beyond. Storm clouds boiled and seethed, blotting out the stars. Lightning flashed, a bright heart within the dark mass of the looming thunderhead.

Blaise yelled, grabbing at him as the storm closed over them like a fist. He pulled her close against his chest, trying to shield her with his own body. They clung to each other as the wind roared around them—yet it didn’t so much as ruffle their hair.

“Go!” Zephyr shouted, in the calm at the eye of the storm. He could still see the narrow trail of black fire that led back to her own dream; her link to her animal, trapped in her slumbering body. He tried to shove Blaise down that tenuous path. “Go, Blaise! You have to let me go!”

“Like hell!” She gripped his arm, shifter-strong fingers digging into his flesh like talons. He would have bruises when he woke up. If he woke up. “Damn it, Zeph, you weren’t even going to tell me?”

There was no chance to explain that he’d been trying to protect her. Thunder roared, drowning out the world. Trapped lightning boiled in the depths of the storm, snapping in frustrated arcs. Searching for a conduit; searching for a path from sky to earth. Searching for him.

“Don’t fight it.” He locked eyes with Blaise, willing her to listen to him. “Whatever you do, don’t try to stand in its way. You have to let it take me.”

She was stronger than him in the waking world, but this was his realm. With a twist of his mind, he ripped himself free from her. Before she could try to stop him, he launched himself into the void.

Just as he had fifteen years ago, he fell.

The line of black fire that connected him to Blaise streamed behind him as he plummeted. He could feel it stretching, fraying in the ferocious winds. When the lightning struck, it would surely snap.

So be it.

In his heart of hearts, he had known that he would not be able to return. At least he’d had this brief time in the light of day; at least he had spoken with his uncle and seen his nightmare end at last. At least he had met Blaise, and felt the heat of her touch. That memory would warm him, in the cold heart of the storm.

The storm clouds split, spreading into jagged wings. Vast talons opened. Lightning formed blazing eyes, fixing on him.

Yes, Wakinyan.Zephyr tipped back his head. He opened his arms, embracing the wind, making himself a lightning rod for all that terrible, dispassionate power. Strike through me. I am your path.

“Zephyr!”

Something hit him, hard as a striking eagle, knocking him aside as lightning split the air. Blinded by white light, Zephyr felt a hand close around his wrist, right over the ring of black fire. Her touch seared through him, heat without pain, like holy fire.

Cold dread seized his heart. “Blaise, no! Don’t!”

Blaise ignored him, still holding fast. The bond between them blazed up, fire without light, as black as her wings. Lit by lightning, she was an angel of midnight, facing the storm without fear.

“Mine!” Blaise howled at the Thunderbird, her beating wings dwarfed by its vast pinions. “I won’t let you take him! My mate!”

The Thunderbird should not have even noticed the tiny scrap of human defiance opposing it. A storm paid no attention to human wants, or needs, or prayers.

Yet the great head turned, blank white eyes fixing on Blaise. Captive lightning flickered in its eyes. All around, the storm clouds thinned, starlight showing through gaps.

The Thunderbird beat its wings, lifting higher into the no-sky between dreams. As it rose, its burning stare fixed on Zephyr once more. Thunder rolled through his mind—

* * *

—And Zephyr awoke.

The Thunderbird’s final words echoed through his skull, like a slowly fading dream. For a moment, he could only blink at the ceiling, his confused mind trying to work out why it wasn’t storm clouds.

“Blaise,” he breathed. “Blaise!”

Her touch still burned on his wrist. Zephyr hurtled out of bed, ignoring his uncle’s groggy, confused query. He shot down the stairs three at a time, bursting out into the pale light of early dawn.

“Blaise!” he shouted, not caring who heard. He broke into a dead sprint, heading for her cabin, his heart in his mouth. “Blaise!”

She met him halfway, barefoot, a phone pressed to her ear. He nearly grabbed for her in relief, before remembering that would only make things worse. Every instinct cried out to hold her, but he made himself take a step back.

“Are you all right?” he asked urgently. “Is he all right? Your father?”

She gestured him to shut up, still listening to her phone. Zephyr held his breath, fingernails digging into his palms. The memory of her midnight wings filled his mind. They had been black, black as the space between stars, not a hint of fire. But still—

Blaise closed her eyes, the taut terror fading from her face. She drew in a shaking breath.

“Never mind,” she said into her phone. “It’s nothing. I’ll explain later. Love you.”

All the air rushed out of him in explosive relief. “He’s okay?”

Blaise nodded, clicking off her phone. “Didn’t even notice anything, apparently. Guess I didn’t draw on the Phoenix’s power after all. Thank God. I was sure I had.”

“Whatever you did, it got the Thunderbird’s attention.” Zephyr tried to rake a hand through his hair, only to encounter the bristling strangeness of his short cut. “I don’t understand. The Thunderbird’s overriding purpose is to oppose the horned serpents. It needs a conduit to this world in order to do that. It shouldn’t have been able to let me go, not even for a little while.”

In the dawn half-light, Blaise’s expression was haunted. “Zephyr… all that was real, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t have to answer. She knew the truth already. He could tell by the way her fists clenched, and the bleakness in her eyes.

“Yes,” he said anyway. Once again, he heard the Thunderbird’s parting words, shaking his soul. “The Thunderbird is alive. And it’s going to return for me.”