THREE
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air of the musty and dimly lit library. Across from Phoenyx, Hutton Grimshaw looked decidedly disheveled. Quite frankly, Phoenyx was perplexed by his reaction when she’d burst into his private office with the news. It hardly should have surprised him that she would barge in uninvited. That was pretty much her M.O. her entire life. Rushing in head first, with hardly any warning for what lay beyond those first few steps was how she got it done. Still, Hutton sat with his fingers folded together and pressed against his lips, a look of dismay played clearly across his distinguished features.
"You're absolutely certain?" He asked pointedly.
"Yes," Phoenyx said impatiently, her thumbnail clacking against the underside of her front tooth out of nervous habit. "For a secret society…you guys suck at keeping it that way."
For all the years she’d known him, Hutton had always been prideful in the fact that The Order had kept itself under the radar. As far as the Supernaturals were concerned, Phoenyx was a rogue agent, who just so happened to appear one day, at the ripe old age of sixteen, to kick all their asses. They had no idea The Order of the Flame even existed––until now.
Hutton couldn’t have been pleased. His eyes were on her like blue lasers. He'd given her that look before, and the result was always the same. As her mentor, trainer, friend and the man who raised her, she knew him better than most.
Thank God for body language and steely-eyed stares because even as well as she knew him, he was still the only human on the face of the planet she couldn’t read.
"I don't know why you're so upset at me, H. It's not like I asked for this." She blurted out.
***
Hutton eyed her thoughtfully. Twenty years had gone by now, and there she stood, a woman––and one of the deadliest assassins to have ever walked the Earth. Still, he couldn’t help but see the terrified little girl from so long ago, staring back at him, all eyes and silent suffering.
Where had the time gone? What I wouldn’t give to go back and do it all differently. Rebecca would be so damn proud. Quelling the softness of the memory that threatened to turn him to pudding in her presence, he scowled.
"You've been careless and sloppy," he said quietly, running a thoughtful hand over his neatly trimmed beard, long since peppered with the grey that only came with wisdom.
Phoenyx rolled her eyes and Hutton fought the urge to snap at her. The eye-rolling was a nasty habit he’d never been able to break her of in all their years of training. Yet, for all her exasperation, she’d learned enough that she could fire a crossbow at eighty yards, without so much as batting an eyelash, never missing her target.
He watched her jaw working as her teeth gnawed like angry beavers at the inside of her lips. She trained her eyes on him, waiting.
"Aren't you going to say something?" She pressed.
He knew how much she hated to displease him, but most of all, he knew how much she hated that she hated it. For an empath, Phoenyx was decidedly against her emotions in every capacity. In her line of work, caring was not supposed to be a part of her repertoire of feelings. She wasn’t supposed to have any. However, Hutton could see the inner workings of her mind more clearly than anyone else ever could. In that moment, her mind was doubled over in agony, as she cursed herself inwardly for having such a tough time taming her emotions.
"But that's what makes you different, isn't it?" Hutton asked tenderly.
He didn’t flinch when Phoenyx brought her fist down on the solid mahogany desk. There was an audible cracking sound. "Get out of my head, H! You said you would never do that to me."
The green of her eyes sizzled and ignited, and for a moment, Hutton was almost sure he’d imagined it, until it happened again. He could see a storm brewing in the emerald of her irises and his stomach dropped.
Behind their depth, he could see the evidence of his secret and frowned. This wasn’t a good sign. He cleared his throat lightly.
"I needed to know where your head was, Jane…" The moment the name left his lips, Hutton cursed himself silently.
"Don't call me that," she hissed, the green of her eyes brightening to a soft glow.
Hutton raised his hands and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. I forgot how much that displeases you."
"No, you didn't," she snapped. "You're not capable of forgetfulness. Now quit trying to remind me of my human nature and focus on the issue at hand."
Beautiful, complicated Jane, he thought, an outpouring of sympathy drawing his eyebrows together. Hutton reached across the desk and covered her fist with his warm hand. "This has nothing to do with your human nature."
She bristled slightly at his touch, but was quick to dismiss him. "Have you contacted The Order?"
She was tough as nails, his little Phoenyx. Who could have known that when they had first met all those years ago, that he would grow so fond of the girl. He’d never once entertained the thought of having children. No, his line of work left no room for family, but she reminded him so very much of Rebecca.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat and gave a tight chuckle. “Not yet. I thought that perhaps you and I could do a little more research first, a little more digging, before we brought it to them.”
Phoenyx eyed him suspiciously. "That's not like you, H. You’re not telling me something."
He knew she could tell he was lying, his brilliant girl, but now wasn’t the time, or place, to reveal hidden things. He would have to approach the subject more delicately from thereon in. If she found out the truth before it was time, all hell would break loose, probably literally.
"No," he assured her. "I simply feel that before we alarm them, for no reason, perhaps we should learn more, before we bring the issue before them."
"They tried to kill me," she said quietly.
His heart lurched. Indeed, they had. The threat to him did not go unnoticed, and he was prepared to answer––when the time was right. Until then, all he could do was convince her that nothing in her world was changing.
"But they didn't," he said reassuringly. "You're still here."
Yes, his darling Jane was still here, and that was all that mattered. She was still present behind those big, beautiful eyes of hers––so unlike her mother’s, and so much more like her father’s. Seductive and magnetic. They were calm for now––thankfully.
For now.
***
Phoenyx sighed, her thoughts distant enough that she hoped Hutton could not read them. Something wasn't right, but she had to agree to this lunacy to get to the truth.
She pushed away the feelings of distress that came with the notion that he was keeping something from her. Hutton, in all their years together, had never once lied to her, and she needed to know why he was starting now, but she had to go about it delicately. And she was about as delicate as a bull in a China shop.
"Fine," she said. "I won't breathe a word, but I need to know where to start. I'm just the muscle."
She watched a slow smile spread over his face, and a warmth enveloped her. The father she’d known as a child, couldn’t hold a candle to the father Hutton had been to her. Which is why the deception hurt so much.
Hutton patted her knee tenderly. "You're much more than 'just the muscle,' my dear. Don't sell yourself short."
It was always hard for her to take a compliment and run with it. It wasn’t that she didn’t entirely believe the compliment, but rather that she found herself far too practical to engage in the flattery. She also wasn’t the greatest with words. For all her sharp wit, ‘thank you’ was one of the most difficult things for her to express.
"So, where do we start?" She asked, ignoring the pride in Hutton’s voice.
He smiled, understanding her awkwardness. "You approached your source, and he knew nothing?"
Phoenyx nodded. "Cortez said he hadn't heard anything."
Hutton leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, nodding. "Very well, tell him to keep his ear to the ground and contact you the very moment he hears something that could benefit us."
"I will." She said, turning to leave, only to be stopped by Hutton clearing his throat.
"Phoenyx," he said slowly. "Why are you so concerned over these bumbling idiots? This isn’t like you."
She frowned. "The only reason I'm alive right now is because Mr. Armani wants me to be. He sent the Three Stooges because he knew they would fail. Which means, I'm more valuable to him alive than I am dead. He wants me to find him."
Phoenyx rolled her eyes as a grin nearly split Hutton’s face. "Just the muscle, eh?"
Turning, she threw a glance over her shoulder in return, but didn’t acknowledge the subtle compliment. "I should get going. This all-powerful, ancient vampire with impeccable taste in shoes isn't going to find himself. Wish me luck."
She could feel Hutton's eyes on her as she retreated.
"We make our own luck, my dear." Hutton replied.