Page 59 of Phoenix Burn

I gritted my teeth and stood up. “Right. I’ll be ready to run their feet off, then.”

Cara smiled. That smile was one of her main assets. As it sent its usual wave of calm energy through me, I acknowledged just how much trouble it had landed me in.

Because no matter how I looked at it, I be about to sink deeper into the tar pit that Fate had bestowed upon me.

17

Anna

I sat in the back seat of the SUV, staring out the window at the swirling snow.

I knew right away that I was in trouble—I’d had this dream so many times. From where I was seated, I could look between the front seats to the driver. Light brown hair, eyes focused straight forward, hands gripping the wheel so tight the fingers were white.

My father. It was just a title, now—the connection between him and me had disappeared, along with my life before this.

Yet I was filled with fear. Beside me was the person who must be my brother, although he looked nothing like me. His wiry hair and thick brows were much like the woman’s seated ahead of me. Her hair radiated out from her head as though it were alive, but it was her scent that pierced me to the core. Powerful, and swirling within it was a terror that equaled my own.

My mother.

When I named her as that, there was the faintest twitch within me, as though some part of me remembered her. Or, at least, remembered what she’d been to me.

The doctors had told me we’d been in a terrible accident while on vacation in Northern Ontario. Yet the emotions that ricocheted around within the vehicle were not those of happy vacationers. And our fear seemed too wild, too panicked, to be simply due to driving in a snowstorm.

If I were to peg it, it felt as though we were being chased.

I had experienced parts of this nightmare many times, but had never come to that conclusion before. Yet having come to it now, it fit.

Outside the vehicle was nothing but darkness and driving snow. I leaned over to peer between the seats and saw that the highway was deserted except for our twin beams focused ahead. The snow swirled thick and fast into the lights, coating sections of the pavement in ice.

Then, suddenly, the highway wasn’t empty. Something sat in the middle of it.

My brain struggled to interpret what I saw through the wind-driven snow. My memory insisted it was huge, but my experience now told me it wasn’t nearly as big as Tyrez. But it wasn’t a Dragon. It had wings with feathers that reflected almost purple in the headlights, and a long scaly tail, but its front half was fur, and its head and neck were feathered around a wicked, hooked beak.

I’d seen the pictograms—it was a Gryphon, in the middle of the highway, its breath steaming in the cold. And on its back sat a cloaked form, the hood thrown back to reveal a woman’s face with long white braids.

She held up her hands, and they glowed blue. She wanted us to stop. But my mother’s scent spiked with terror.

“No!”

The word echoed through the vehicle, and my father spun the wheel, intending to veer around the Gryphon. But the tires lost traction on the ice and skidded. My mother screamed as we ricocheted clear off the road.

Freefall.

Then impact.

The rending of metal, and the darkness rose to claim me.

I shot upright, streaming sweat and shaking all over.

Mari’s snoring from the bed beside me was like an anchor for my sanity. And Trix rose from the foot of my bed to reposition within range of my hand. My fingers in her warm fur enabled me to catch my breath.

I lay back down, my heart hammering, but my mind pushing the fear back where it belonged. Despite my worries, exhaustion had driven me straight to bed after supper, and I’d fallen immediately asleep. Slept deep, until the nightmare.

Hardly the first time I’d had it, but it was the first time it had run like a film from beginning to end. And I’d never remembered the cause of the accident before now.

Mind you, I wouldn’t have made any sense of it before now either. AWatcher. Mounted on a Gryphon. And why were my parents so terrified that they would risk an accident rather than stop?

Mari’s snores didn’t break rhythm as I switched on the tiny light over my bed and leaned over to open the dresser drawer. I pulled out the stack of photos I’d tucked in the corner.

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