Chaos Bites (Phoenix Chronicles, #4)

I was soaked to the skin, my hair plastered to my head; Sani’s fur dripped. Within the circle, mud welled over my turquoise necklace, bubbling as if the rain were hot as lava.

Sani curled around my legs, rubbing his wet, musty coat against my pants; his muzzle nuzzled my thighs. I fought a shudder of disgust.

“Now the lightning,” he whispered, his breath so hot against my crotch I thought steam might rise from my wet jeans.

I reached for the lightning, felt it crackle then die.

“Again,” Sani shouted.

I closed my eyes, imagined the bolts tearing from the sky, slamming into the ground; the fire would blaze and then die, the smoke would create a curtain, and when it disappeared Sawyer would be here.

I inched my fingers higher, reaching with all the power I had for a single, solitary flare.

Zzztt!

The smell of spent fireworks fell with the rain but no lightning came. I lowered my arms, opened my eyes, and admitted the truth. “I can’t.”

Sani growled and sank his teeth into my hand.

Pain erupted, so deep I fell to my knees. “What. The. Fuck?”

The coyote’s snout appeared in front of me, and he breathed in deeply, as if trying to catch a whiff of . . . my pain? Then he licked my wet face and cocked his head. “No tears?”

“I never . . . cry,” I managed. Except when Sawyer died. Fat lot of good that crying had done me. I’d learned long ago that tears were a sign of weakness, and the weak did not survive.

My uninjured hand crept toward the silver knife at my belt. Sani latched on to it before my fingers got anywhere near.

“Dammit!” The wounds would heal quickly. But they still hurt enough to make me gasp, even when he released me.

“My power, little girl, lies in pain.” His breath cascaded over my face; I caught the scent of my own blood and my demon howled. “You want to bring that lightning, give me some agony.”

I gritted my teeth. “No.”

“You said you’d do whatever was necessary.”

“I thought you meant sex.”

He laughed. “You’d rather have sex than cry?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

His laughter died. “I’m not Sawyer.”

Sawyer got a power boost from sex—like me. That had seemed kind of sick. Until I met this guy.

His power lay in pain, which might be the reason, or at least one of them, that Sawyer had banished him. The old coyote was lucky Sawyer hadn’t killed him. Of course, if he had, I’d be shit out of luck right now. How many true skinwalkers were trolling this earth? I didn’t think very many.

“Fine,” I muttered, and screamed as if the pain in my hands wasn’t fading by the second.

“Very good,” he whispered, his voice breathless. He was enjoying this far too much. “Now try for that lightning again.”

I stretched for the sky with one hand; Sani chewed on the other. I shrieked, and the lightning burst from the still-streaming clouds, slamming into the ground so close to us my scalp tingled.

The mountain trembled. Ozone sizzled. Smoke billowed from the black mark in the earth, and when it cleared— The turquoise still lay alone in the circle.





CHAPTER 21

Sani released my hand, and before I could stop myself I twitched my wrist. The coyote flew several feet and smacked into a tree.

“Whoops,” I said.

He got to his feet and shook his head, stumbling sideways a bit. “Don’t do that again.”

“I thought you liked pain.”

“Not my own.”

The rain stopped; the clouds blew away on a heated wind. The thunder moved off to the east with the remnants of the lightning.

“Where the hell’s Sawyer?” I demanded.

The coyote crossed to the turquoise, albeit a little unsteadily. “That should have worked.”

“It didn’t.”

He lifted his head. “You’re sure he’s dead?”

“Yes.” I frowned.

And no.

“You don’t sound sure.” His dark eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

“He disappeared.”

“Into thin air?”

“Maybe.” I hadn’t actually seen him go poof.

Sani cursed, using words I didn’t know. “He’s alive.”

My heart leaped at the words, even though I knew they weren’t true. “He can’t be.”

“Why not?”

I clapped my hands and thunder answered, flicked my hand and a nearby tree toppled over with a resounding crack. “That’s why not.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “You gained your magic through his death. If he weren’t truly dead, you wouldn’t have it.”

He sounded relieved. I wondered what Sani had done to Sawyer while he’d been teaching him. If that, perhaps, as well as Sani’s command of black magic, was why Sawyer had cursed him.

“If he were in the afterworld,” Sani continued, “the land to the north and beneath the earth, he would be compelled to stand in the circle and answer the questions of the one who raised him.”

“But he wasn’t, so what does that mean?”

The coyote collapsed onto the ground with a huff then laid his chin on his paws. I scooped up the turquoise and flipped the chain over my head.

Sani raised his snout. “Have you dreamed of him?” I started. “You have!”