Phoenix Reborn (Woodland Creek)(32)

“Then we’re at an impasse,” he said, pressing into her once again. “But I have you naked, and am therefore at an advantage.” He kissed her.

“You’re right; there’s nothing I wouldn’t agree to right now,” she laughed. “But you have a film to make, and I have to sort out the rest of my life, now that I understand who and what I am. I suppose it makes sense in a way — if I’m a bird whose feathers are essentially made of fire, I can’t exactly conceal myself in the secrecy of the shifter world. Maybe the Vulture has a point, after all.”

“No — but you can learn to control your power. You can hide when you need to, just as everyone does. There is no excuse for violence, based only on your being different.”

“Speaking of different,” she said, looking around, “we should probably find some clothing.”

“Allow me,” said Hawke. “Having the eyes of an Eagle is very convenient when it comes to spotting hanging laundry. Wait here, and don’t get into any scraps when I’m away. And remember: you can fly if you need to.”

“Got it. I can fly.”

In a flash he was gone, heading once again for the vast sky. Ashling watched him go, thinking how different her life had become over the last few days. She was the envy of every woman in town and somehow a reluctant threat to every shifter. A part of her wanted to return to anonymity, but a larger part felt empowered, strong. As though nothing could take her on now.

But perhaps that was what the Vulture feared in her. Too much power would be a corruption, and in risking her own identity she risked that of Hawke and of every shifter in existence.

Hawke was back after a few minutes with some clothes: a dress that fit her fairly well, some jeans and a t-shirt for himself. Ashling was sorry to see him cover his gorgeous body as she watched him dress.

“So,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head. “I think we should hike to town. It’s getting light out, and you don’t want people seeing the firebird version of yourself. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave your camping gear where it is for now.”

“That’s okay. I’m hoping not to need it for the near future.”

As they walked the two held hands, discussing their hopes and dreams from childhood, and how differently things had worked out for each of them. Both agreed, though, that whatever negative experience had occurred, everything had led them to this moment, to each other. And for that reason alone, neither had anything to regret.



* * *



When Ranach opened the door he threw his arms around Ashling, who grinned in surprise and affection as she hugged him back. He was a kind man, but shows of affection like this were rare from him.

“I had a bad dream — a vision, really,” he said, his voice filled with relief, “that someone had gotten to you, my dear girl.”

“No one got to me, thanks to Hawke,” she said. The young man followed her into the silversmith’s living room, and they sat down next to one another, opposite her mentor. “Ranach, tell me why they’re after me. There has to be more to it than my shifted self.”

“Ah, yes. The Phoenix,” he said. “I saw it in my mind as I slept. Your shifted self is very beautiful, Ashling. And yes, there is more. Things that I’ve never told you, because I didn’t feel them relevant. It’s a sticky business, this.”

“What is?”

“I have never wanted to alter your perception of your parents, who loved you very much. But they, like the rest of us, were imperfect. There was your father: he was strong. Like you, he had the blood of a firebird. One day, years ago, when a young man — another shifter — tried to take him on, he grew angry.

“This was far away, and before you were born — before your parents were married, or had even met. There were quite a few shifters around that day, and as men will do, the two sparred. Had they been regular men, a few punches would have been thrown, perhaps. And ugly words. But your father’s temper occasionally got the better of him, and on that occasion, he blew up — literally and metaphorically. Needless to say, he hurt people.”

Ashling gasped, recalling her moment years before, when she’d burned that young man. Nearly killing him.

“Some were hospitalized for their burns. The man — the one after your father — set himself on a personal quest for vengeance against him. For years he searched for him, not knowing that he’d come here, to the safety of Woodland Creek. When he discovered that your father had settled in this town, the other man arrived and found him and your mother together. He issued threats against them both, said that he and his cronies would seek revenge. Fortunately, the man didn’t know of your existence. And so your parents left you with me in order to protect you, and went into hiding. The one thing that neither could abide was the idea that you could be hurt.”

“My parents — are they still alive? Did that man ever find them?”

“I believe they have evaded him to this day, Ashling, though we are not in touch. We can’t be — it would have been too dangerous for you to know where they were, or for them to seek you out. Your father believed that the man who wished to harm him didn’t know of your existence, as did I. But it seems that word has gotten out now, and that others see you as a threat.”

“I want to find my parents,” she said. “I want to talk to them…”