The Phoenix Prophecy: Nova

IN hen I wake, Kole’s leg is draped across mine. Heavy. Cutting off my circulation. But I don’t move it. I turn and look at him. He’s huge, taller than all of us — even Mack — and covered in tattoos. Some from before I knew him. Some after.

His dark hair fans out beneath his head. He looks peaceful now, but in the brief hours we slept, he was not peaceful. He moaned, thrashed, and cried out. I don’t know if he was seeing the future or the past. Whatever he was seeing, it was torturing him.

It’s light outside. I reach for my phone. Eight a.m. I’m back on shift at the hospital in six hours. Sitting up, I push my hair from my face, then pick up the glass on my bedside table. We’re in my room; we only ever sleepover in my room.

There are just a few drops of water in the bottom of the glass, so I fix my eyes on them and stare until they swell and multiply. When the glass is full, I stop, drink them down, then fill it again and leave it for Kole.

I’ll let him sleep a little longer.

Padding down the hall in my underwear, I head for the bathroom. The door is closed. Steam billows out from under the door; Luther’s been turning up the heat again.

I knock and lean against the door frame. After a few long seconds, the lock turns and Luther steps out. He stops and looks at me. While I’m still half naked, he’s dressed for work — black pants and a dark gray shirt, the gold emblem for the Phoenix Falls division of the Supernatural State Police stitched onto his upper sleeves.

“You’re working today?” I ask.

He nods.

“Mack?”

“Nah. He was sensible enough to book the day off.” He pauses, then looks back toward the bedroom. “Kole okay?”

I rub the back of my neck and shrug.

“Did he tell you who he thinks the girl is? What he thinks she is?”

I tilt my head. Of course, Kole told me. But I didn’t realize he told Luther too. “The Phoenix,” I say quietly.

“You believe him?” Luther’s using his cop voice.

“I don’t not believe him.” I sigh and wrinkle my nose. “There’s something going on with her, Luther. I felt it too. If Kole thinks it’s to do with the prophecy, then…”

“Prophecy?” Mack’s question comes floating down the hall. I hear him before I see him. When he emerges from the shadows, he looks like hell. His salt and pepper hair sticking up in tufts, bruises on his torso — presumably from all the tree-bashing he did last night — shadows under his eyes. “What’s happened?” He walks toward us.

I’m about to tell him when Luther interrupts me. “We need coffee before we have this conversation. And we need Kole.”

I look at my phone for the time. Nova could have been awake for hours. My hunch is that she needed a long, proper sleep. But it’s entirely possible she’s sitting in the apartment right now, on her own, wondering what the hell to do. Or she could have gotten up and left. Changed her mind about trusting two mages she doesn’t know. “Meet at the bar? Nine thirty?”

“The bar?” Mack’s brow creases into a frown. “We don’t got coffee here?”

“Luther will explain.” I duck into the bathroom. “I’ll bring Kole.”

As I close the door, I hear Mack’s voice rumbling. “Girl? What girl?”

It’s just past nine when we convene in the empty bar. The Cross always feels strange to me in daylight.

Everyone looks beat, having had barely a few hours’ sleep between us. Kole makes coffee and slams the pot down in the middle of the table. Mack is wearing dark glasses, despite being inside. He pours himself a cup and barely takes a breath before downing a large thirsty mouthful.

I catch Kole glancing up at the ceiling and wonder if he’s thinking of Nova. If the effect she has on him can take hold through walls and floors or if he’s safe while she’s up there.

By this point, Luther has given Mack a brief breakdown of the situation. A girl arrived late last night, passed out in front of the bar, and is now sleeping in Kole’s apartment. What he hasn’t explained is why Kole thinks she could have something to do with the prophecy.

“Hadn’t you better check she’s still up there?” Luther asks, looking from me to Kole.

“I’ll go.” I push my chair back from the table. “Wait for me before you…” I wave my hand at them. “Get into it.”

Upstairs, I knock on the apartment door and wait. Without meaning to, I let the veil slip, just a tiny bit, and I feel her. Nerves, but not fear. Apprehension, but not worry. And as she approaches… excitement? Anticipation?

She opens the door a few inches, nods at me, then steps back to let me inside. She’s wearing one of Kole’s white t-shirts. It’s long enough to reach the middle of her thighs, but despite the Viking’s broad frame, it pulls tight across her breasts. My cock is paying attention. I resist the urge to adjust it.

“Did you sleep okay?” I ask as she leans against the arm of the couch.

She tucks her hair behind her ear. It’s pale gray, almost silver in the way it shines. But she’s young. My age, I’d guess — no more than mid-twenties, for sure. So, it has to be dyed that way. “Yes, thank you.” She glances at the door. “Are you alone?”

“Kole’s downstairs, our roommates, too. They want to meet you.”

“Roommates?” Her demeanor hasn’t changed. If anything, she’s less nervous now that she’s in the same room as me. “Is it okay if I shower first?” She rubs her arms and shudders a little. She’s right; it’s cold in here.

“Of course. I’ll see you down there. Coffee?”

She grins. “Thought you’d never ask.” Damn. That smile.

The door’s closing behind me when I realize something is in front of me. “Shit, Luther. What the hell?”

In the shadow of the stairwell, Luther points toward the apartment. “She’s in the bathroom?”

“Yeah, she’s showering.” I pat his upper arm. “Don’t worry, she’s coming down.”

“Get in there.” Luther nudges me back up the steps.

“What?” My mind races. Suddenly, I’m picturing her in the shower. Water cascading over her body. The body of a goddess.

“Get in there and check out her stuff.” Luther’s speaking through gritted teeth, glaring at me like he can tell where my mind is going.

“She doesn’t have any stuff. We told you that. Nothing but the clothes on her back.”

“So she says.” Luther raises an eyebrow at me, then reaches past me and silently pushes the door open again. “You want to know who she is? Go check.”

Mumbling under my breath that he’s the cop, so he should be the one snooping, I step back into the quiet gloom of the apartment.

The shower is running. My heartbeat quickens in my chest as I cross the living room. In the hall, I stand between the bathroom door and the bedroom door. My mind snags on a mental image of her turning her face to the stream of hot water. Droplets clinging to the ends of her long silver hair, which dangles loose above her waist.

I clench my jaw and growl a little. I sound like Mack.

Inhaling a deep breath, I turn to the bedroom. The sheets are tangled on the bed. The pillows to one side, like she wrapped herself around them for comfort.

Her coat is hanging over the back of the solitary chair in the corner of the room. Her sneakers are below it. I tiptoe over and check the coat’s pockets. No wallet, but about two hundred dollars in cash. A smile flickers on my lips. So, Luther, she’s not lying.

But as I turn to leave, something catches my eye. One of the pillows doesn’t look right. It’s… lumpy. Weirdly lumpy. I cross to the bed and feel it. There’s something inside the pillowcase. I open it up and peer inside. What the…? It looks like a bunch of rags. Burned rags. I move them aside. There’s something else; buried in the middle of the rags is a lump of black plastic. I narrow my eyes, then inhale sharply. At the exact moment I realize what I’m looking at, I also realize the shower has stopped running. I grab my phone, snap a picture, then drop the pillow and run for the door.

When I reach the bar, Luther’s back with the others. They all look up as I hurry over.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Fruitful?” Luther asks, a smug smirk on his face as if he just knew I’d find something.

I take out my phone and swipe open the photo. “She was telling the truth about having no ID, but I found these hidden inside one of her pillows.”

Luther takes the phone and tilts his head. “What am I looking at?”

I tap the screen. “Her clothes. Burned to a crisp. There’s a phone in there too.”

As Luther passes the phone to Mack, he takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes. “She was in a fire before she came here?”

“Except there isn’t a burn on her. Anywhere.”

“You checked? Everywhere?” Luther asks.

I bite the inside of my cheek. He gets on my nerves when he’s like this; talking to me like I’m the baby of the group when I’ve seen and done more shit than he could even imagine.

“For her clothes to look like this.” I say tightly, “she’d have to have second or third-degree burns all over her body. Apart from being lightheaded last night, she was fine. Plus, I just saw her in nothing but a tee. She has no burns.”

I cast a glance at Kole. He’s rubbing his beard, lost in thought.

“Well, what happened to her before she arrived here isn’t the only thing she’s lying about,” Luther says smugly, flattening his palm on the table.

I wait for him to continue.

“I checked the buses. Nothing is scheduled to arrive any time past midday on a Sunday. So, either she arrived at midday and spent thirteen hours wandering town before turning up at the bar, or she lied and she got here some other way.”

I shake my head. That doesn’t make sense. I’d have known if she was lying. Omission is different. I knew she was holding back. But I didn’t feel a lie.

“How is it that a human can be engulfed in flame and come out without a mark on her body?” Kole’s voice is deep and gravelly. He scratches the table with his fingernail. He looks at each of us in turn. “Magick. The answer is magick.”

Luther opens his mouth to speak, but Kole cuts him off.

“I know you don’t believe in the prophecy. I’m not asking you to. But you’re a cop. So, be a cop. Find out what’s going on here, Luther.”

In a matter-of-fact tone, always the peacekeeper, Mack says, “The way I see it, we have three possible scenarios. Either she’s a fire witch like Luther and she can’t be burned by fire, she’s a human and a mage attacked her with fire — purposefully leaving her unharmed…” He sucks in a sharp breath and looks at Kole. “Or Kole’s right and she’s the Phoenix.”

“She has human blood,” Kole says, his grip tightening on his coffee mug. “I wouldn’t feel this way if she didn’t.”

“Okay, so then we’re likely looking at options two or three.” Mack takes out a notebook from his jacket and scribbles something inside it.

Under his breath, Kole whispers, “A witch born to humans. The Phoenix is She.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Mack says. He gestures to my phone. “Tanner, send me that picture. Luther and I will look into it.”

Luther looks like he’s about to object, but Mack shoots him a sharp stare. “Kole could be right. We came back to Phoenix Falls because we believed the prophecy was possible.”

Kole is nodding.

“But the other possibility needs to be ruled out, too. Because if a mage or a witch did this to her.” He looks around the table at each of us in turn. “If a super used their powers against a human, then the treaty is breached. And we’re all in a shitload of trouble if the humans find out.”

“If the humans find out what?” Nova’s voice makes us all turn around. She’s standing by the bar, still wearing Kole’s t-shirt but now with a pair of hugely oversized sweats.

Quick as a flash and smooth as fuck, Mack stands up and pulls out a chair. “If they find out the secret to our magickal coffee,” He says, smiling a pearly white smile at her while smoothing his finger and thumb over his neat goatee beard.

I study Nova’s face. She’s smiling, but as she walks over and introduces herself to Luther and Mack, I exchange a look with Kole. She knows we’re lying. We know she’s lying. Whose truth will be the first to come out?