Page 117 of Inflamed By an Incubus

They crossed the deep moonlit snow that covered the basin of the valley in silence, heading for the trees that hugged the mountain range that spanned from the end where they were to the one where the stronghold loomed. Fenix kept his eyes on the distant glow of the fortress, on high alert even though there had to be at least a mile or more of silent snowfield separating them.

They were nearing the trees when Rosalind’s leash on her tongue failed her.

“I still don’t know why we’re expected to trust someone who has been working for Archangel.” She slid an apologetic look at Evelyn when everyone looked over their shoulder at her.

Archer was the only one who didn’t look back at Rosalind.

He heaved a long sigh and flicked his cigarette onto the snow, and for a moment, Fenix was sure he wasn’t going to rise to the bait, but then his jaw flexed and his face twisted, and Fenix saw it in his eyes as he lost the fight against saying something.

“I only worked with Archangel because I sensed the presence of strong power there and Aryanna’s voice was louder. She led me to that facility. Only I couldn’t find her. She cannot see where she is.” Archer didn’t look back at Rosalind. He looked at Evelyn instead, his gaze steady on the back of her head as she walked, navigating the deep snow. “Now I have seen her, I know why she couldn’t guide me better. I have no allegiance to Archangel. My ties with them have been severed now I know where Aryanna is… Yes… yes, I will free you. I swore to do so, didn’t I? You know, I could live without you doubting my every move. I found you. Now you could be of more help and tell me how to free you. No, I’m not going to kill Evelyn to achieve it.”

He huffed and scrubbed a hand over his tousled dark hair, rubbing the flecks of snow into it, and Fenix didn’t like the darkness that began to bleed from his irises into the whites of his eyes.

“I know you don’t know. You don’t know anything. You’re never helpful. You sit there in my head, barking orders night and day, stealing sleep from me with your incessant noise.” Archer’s voice was a deep growl as his expression blackened and flickers of violet and crimson light sparked from his fingers as he curled and flexed them.

Rosalind eased away from Archer, tugging Vail back so the distance between them and the warlock grew, and Fenix considered doing the same thing with Evelyn. Archer was throwing off aggression now, his aura tainted with fury and frustration and tinged with desperation. Fenix had seen enough desperate men in his life to know what they were capable of and he wouldn’t put it past Archer to be the sort who exploded and caused mass destruction and death when that emotion got the better of him.

Archer noticed everyone distancing themselves and began muttering things beneath his breath, fogging the air in front of his face as it chilled further. The hairs on Fenix’s nape rose as the air didn’t only chill. It crackled with energy that lit up his senses and had his instincts firing, telling him to move Evelyn away from Archer now before it was too late and the male took her out when he went nuclear.

“I can whip up a nice potion if you need one?” Rosalind offered, her voice calm and light despite the fear Fenix could sense in her. “Might help with the voices.”

Archer glared over his shoulder at her and the light leaping from his fingers grew brighter, illuminating his face and casting deep shadows around his eyes.

Or at least Fenix hoped it was the light making the area around them black.

“You know what might help with this voice in my head?” Archer snapped. “A spell that would transfer this problem to you. I think I know one.”

Rosalind stuck her tongue out at him.

Vail growled low and his fangs flashed between his lips as he spoke. “Try anything, and I will hunt you down and savour ripping you apart.”

Archer shrugged that off. “You can try. You might end up being the one ripped apart.”

Vail’s eyes only darkened further, the black slashes of his eyebrows drawing down to form a deep crease between them as he glared at the warlock. “Are you threatening me?”

“Russian roulette, gorgeous.” Rosalind patted her mate’s arm. “Crows have a lot of spells and some of them can be a touch protective of their host. I really don’t want to lose you, so you have to play at least a little nice with the Crow. Promise?”

Before Vail could swear not to antagonise Archer, the warlock began muttering again.

“I have a name. I’m sick of being called Crow. Sick of your kind thinking I’m some kind of cursed being… a murderer and a psychopath without any shred of feeling.” His eyes went all-black and the light flickering around his fingers became jagged scarlet bolts that illuminated the trees as they entered the fringe of the forest. His voice lowered further, a feral snarl. “No, I will not return. I have important business. My friend needs help. No, you are not my friend. I do not think you are anyone’s friend… and that is why you are in that prison. Cursing an entire species… there is something seriously wrong with you.”

Rosalind slid a look at everyone that blatantly said she thought there was something wrong with him and that he was psychotic, but didn’t risk saying it aloud.

“That’s it!” Evelyn snapped and rounded on Rosalind, startling everyone, even Archer. “His name is Archer. It’s not Crow or any other horrible thing you want to call him. It’s Archer! I’m sick and tired of you treating him like he’s some sort of unfeeling monster when you can see it hurts him. If you have a problem with him, then you have a problem with me.”

The air around Evelyn shimmered and the snow by her feet began to melt as she curled her hands into trembling fists and stared Rosalind down. Rosalind stared at her, her blue eyes wide and a stunned look on her face. Beside the witch, Vail growled low.

Evelyn shifted her glare to him. “Try it, elf.”

“Evelyn,” Mackenzie whispered softly and approached her, slowly raising her hands. “Calm down.”

“No, I won’t calm down.” Evelyn scowled over her shoulder at the other phoenix shifter. “I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m tired of her hurting Archer just because she can. Maybe I should find something offensive to call her and see how she likes it. Hag? How about that? How would you like it if I called you a hag all the time? I really don’t like your friends.”

She turned on Fenix as she said that, hurt and anger flaring inside her, warming the air around her.

Fenix eased towards her, aching to comfort and calm her, to make her see that Rosalind wasn’t all bad and that he didn’t want this coming between them. “I swear, love, she’ll be on her best behaviour from now on… so you just need to calm down and rein it in. Okay?”

“Not good enough,” she barked. “I want to hear it from her.”

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