CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Cameron~
Tail feathers. Use your tail feathers
Oh. Right.
He grazed the great rotting backbone of the Cerberus with his forked tail feathers. The beast flinched as if he had sprayed her with acid. Black spread through the patchwork of scarlet fire on her hide. The scent of rotting flesh grew denser. She spun in frantic circles, yowling in pain and fury as her flames were extinguished.
Frankie immediately seized the nape of the mighty neck at the juncture where it split into three. Blood spurted in a grisly fountain as Warrior Woman’s enormous beak bit deep. The three heads roared one final threat. Plaster fell from the ceiling, shaken loose by the shock wave of sound. Frankie’s dual scimitars closed. She and her enemy danced in a lethal embrace.
Yet one of the enormous heads was held clear of the engulfing fire and Frankie’s spread wings. It writhed above the phoenix. The bitch lunged, chomped. Pulled back with a mouthful of flesh and feathers.
But Frankie hung on to her foe, wrenching her head back and forth until the Cerberus’ spine finally snapped. The Hellhound went limp. All three heads stilled. The Cerberus was dead. But his Frankie was mortally wounded.
Blood flowed from the gouge on his mate’s back and her movements faltered. Her feathers sizzled where the slobber had wet them. Her heartbeat was sluggish and her brilliant eyes drooped. He was going to lose her.
You’re going to die.
Fire. Hurry.
What?
Take Fire.
Frankie used her last strength to leap back onto her fallen enemy. Her talons sank deep into the smoking flesh. And then the two were one. Both part of the same intense conflagration. The bonfire rapidly dwindled into a smoldering heap. Gradually that turned from red, to yellow, to blue, to white, as it grew ever hotter and diminished.
Frankie was now part of the Cerberus. She was in control of the fire. And it controlled her. Astoundingly, she was enjoying this ferocious burning, which he was sharing. While his skin shriveled in the heat and agony clouded his mind, she reveled in the flames. Exulted in this fiery death.
Talk about your burning at the stake.
Take fire too. Hurry.
If only I knew how.
Will it.
It finally penetrated his pain-clouded brain that Frankie was about to turn to ash. To perish in the white-hot blaze she had initiated. That she lacked the strength and will to regenerate. She needed him. And as instinctively as he had learned to take bear, he knew how to control her fire to turn it from pyre to womb.
He joined her in the flames. Wrapped his fiery arms around her and clung. Ignored the urgent summons to experience the solace of death and the comfort of eternity as nothing but spirit. Drew on his last strength and pulled her out. Became a phoenix. As did his mate. He and Frankie tangled in the inadequate space of the guest bedroom, breathing hard.
The bed was a great pile of ashes. Smoke detectors beeped wildly, but the fire was out. Frankie laid her brilliant neck against his and shut her golden eyes.
You okay?
Yup. You?
Except for the part where I don’t know how to return to human.
Her head bobbed. His indefatigable mate was laughing. Will it, Bear Boy. But not yet. First, just to be sure, we scatter the bitch’s ashes.
Together they clawed the smoking hot cinders and ashes until they were dispersed too widely to ever coalesce.
Not that I know for sure if they can regenerate. But all the old stories say so.
And then Frankie lifted her resplendent head. Its flaming plumes glittered with even more colors than he had been able to perceive when he was a bear. She opened her terrifying beak and began to sing. Her bugling victory song made his heart race with exultant power.
Sing.
He joined her. Harmonizing effortlessly. Making the ruined ceiling vibrate with the force of their triumphant celebration. More plaster flaked off and spattered them.
I should shift. Clean up this mess.
Not yet. Our work isn’t done yet.
She took off, her laughter ringing in his consciousness like the brassy hoot of a tuba. Flew out the ruined window with a graceful sideways movement that seemed utterly impossible. Surely those wide wings of hers would catch on the frames or the trees beyond?
Hurry.
How come I only get to be the size of a hawk?
More hoots. We need to go through the ritual, Bear Boy. Let’s hope when the battle is over we can turn this snafu around.
What battle? What snafu?
That bitch had whelps. We have to deal with that pack of Hellhounds. And let’s just say, you ate the egg raw.
You’re right about the Hellhounds. If one of them tracked you to Texas, others could.
Damned straight. We’re not going to wait for them to attack. It’s time to take the war to their territory.
So what’s the deal with eating the egg raw? Damned thing burned like a son of a bitch going down. Seemed hot enough to me, D’Angelo.
I’ll explain later. Concentrate on learning to fly. Let your wings catch the thermals. Don’t keep flapping. And don’t fight to stay level. Listen to your wings. Just let flight happen.
As he flew away from it, he saw George and Lincoln racing towards the cottage. They could handle the clean-up, he was going to need all his energy to handle Warrior Woman.
You got that right, Fly Boy.
* * *
Frankie~
Even though they had a battle ahead of them, she felt elated. Carefree. Triumphant. Finally she was flying with her mate. Teaching Cam to fly was a bigger rush than flying jet planes. Who would have thought that anything could top that experience?
Really? This is a bigger rush than flying test aircraft?
You better believe it, Bear Boy. Can’t you feel my trill?
Just the wind beneath my wings, Warrior Woman. And you of course. Where are we headed?
New Mexico. The Balderas Volcanic Fields. We’re going to flush those Cerberuses out of our caves.
What caves would those be?
Volcanic caverns beneath the Balderas.
Why exactly did you go there if the place is full of Hellhounds?
They are intruders. Colonizers. I’d be willing to share our happy playground with them, if that bitch hadn’t brought her fight to my home. I won’t risk another attack.
Agreed. They crossed a line. Just how much lava do Phoenixes need anyway?
Not much. I would have left with a single scrap if I hadn’t been attacked. Besides, there is plenty of magma for everyone. It’s not exactly a finite resource. The earth keeps churning it out.
This is true. I hate to mention this, Frankie, but I am getting tired.
Lift your rump, don’t let those tail feathers drag.
Easy for you to say. They’re nothing but drag. This is not an aerodynamic design.
No? Yet I can break the sound barrier.
Yeah?
Watch and learn, my love. She flew ahead, turned to face her radiant mate and spread her twin tail feathers as far apart as they would go. She brought them together with maximal force. The air crackled as if she had flicked a bullwhip.
Can I do that?
In time. Maybe not today. But soon.
I don’t think I’ve quite got the hang of this flying business. I need a break.
Don’t worry. It’ll get easier. We’ll rest and let you recover. Discuss our tactics.
They perched on a cliff overlooking a river that wended its way through the New Mexico desert. Cam was a total mess. He had lost control of his feathers and the wind had totally disrupted his plumage.
No wonder flying is so hard. You’re in rough shape, lover. Time for some preening and training in the art of feather maintenance.
Are you talking dirty to me, my darling?
Sadly, no. See that stream down below?
Yeah.
We’re going to go bathe in it. And then I am going to teach you how to keep your feathers in trim.
Sounds worse than the Academy.
Frankie took off ahead of Cam, let the thermals catch her and slowly drifted down into the valley.
Hey, this is fun!
Yup. Don’t forget what your tail feathers are for.
Setting stuff on fire?
It’s your rudder. Balance. Direction. Control.
Ah.
Pay attention. You need to get every feather under conscious control, but especially your tail feathers.
I don’t think that’s happening.
That’s what flying is. Be careful when you enter the water. Could be predators waiting by or in the water.
Jesus Murphy.
She landed on a rock that was barely wetted by the river. Peered into its crystal depths and stepped down into the cool water on her long legs, let it flow through her feathers.
Bliss.
If you say so.
Cam made a less graceful landing on her abandoned rock. Scrambled to stop from falling into the river. Stuck his wings out and fluttered awkwardly to join her. The water closed over his back and she felt his sigh of relief.
Who knew flight muscles got so hot and tired?
You’re flapping too much. You need to soar, or you will be sore.
Ha ha. Are you sure we should be raiding these Cerberuses by ourselves? Maybe we ought to have your brother and parents along for backup?
Nah. The two of us will be plenty. Plus, we don’t want to lose the element of surprise, or give the pack time to regroup. Right now, in the absence of both the Alpha male and female, the entire pack will be engaged in civil war. If we’re lucky, all we will have to do is mop up.
And you know this how, D’Angelo?
I’m not the first phoenix to be attacked by Hellhounds. Just the first in the New World. The Cerberus is the traditional enemy of the phoenix.
George Washington.
Trust me. We’ll get the job done.
Strangely enough, I believe you.
Good. Now we get to go perch on the cliff top again. None of these trees are sturdy enough for me in greater phoenix.
And do what?
Preen. Flirt. Rest. Later we’ll go fishing.
Phoenixes eat fish?
You betcha.
* * *
Cameron~
After they had gorged on fish and gone over their strategy one more time, they took to the air again. It was difficult to keep up with Frankie’s twenty-two-foot wingspan when he was only the size of a hawk. But he did love a challenge.
We’re two of a kind, Bear Boy.
You were right. Clean, smooth feathers make a huge difference.
I’m always right.
I don’t know about that, but for sure you have the best ass in Texas.
You think I have the best ass in Texas? Only Texas?
And Georgia. And for the record, also the best knockers.
Your butt isn’t so bad, either.
You had to love a woman who was that fast with a comeback.
Bear that in mind, Bear Boy. He could almost hear the snickering. I love you too. Keep your eyes peeled for a tiny hillock with a plume of smoke.
A hillock would be a small hill?
Not even. More of a bulge in the plain. In this case, the vent of an underground chimney. That’s your post.
Gotcha.
What’s our plan?
We can read each other’s minds and we still need three-way communication?
This is a battle, Fly Boy. Humor me.
I wait for your signal, enter the chimney and conceal myself until you join battle with the whelps from hell. We execute a pincer move and trap them between two jets of paranormal fire.
Correct. You enter the chimney on my signal and conceal yourself until you hear the noise of battle. We engage the enemy from two sides and clean up with fire.
Classic maneuver. Works best if the enemy has no reinforcements.
Trust me, they will be having a free-for-all. Except for the most timid ones.
Or the most cunning. In that situation, a clever hound would hang back until the dust cleared.
Then it will be two against one.
You’re the boss.
You do say the sweetest things. Here’s the smoke. I’ll go in through the entrance I used before.
Watch for sentries. Stay alert. Stay alive.
Of course.
Frankie flew off while he began his slow circle of the smoke stack. Now that he was a phoenix he could track her easily and see much further than he ever had before. His view from the clouds seemed endless. But his bear instincts were screaming. He had a bad feeling about this impulsive operation. But he was committed. He would have to follow his mate’s lead.
He had spent his entire manhood in the military. Been deployed dozens of times. Maybe hundreds. He had stopped counting. Every time you went into the field, the prospect of not returning was very real. In Special Forces every mission was beyond hazardous. Duh. Otherwise regular forces would handle it. But he had never felt anything like this terror.
If Frankie was killed, how would he survive? He was connected to her in every way possible. Even though she was not in view any longer, he could feel her. Presumably she could feel him.
Damn straight, Bear Boy. Chin up. I’m going in.
Be careful, my love.
Always.
Now was not the time for doubts but the time to prepare for action. He blanked his thoughts and set himself to the Zen of waiting for battle. He let the wind lift him into another circuit around the little hill. One part of his brain admired the gray-green landscape and the rugged beauty of the volcanic plain. Another waited in enforced calm for Frankie’s command.