staggered, driven back by that fierce heat. “I can’t reach her! She’s losing control!”
“Blaise.” Rory’s voice was just a hoarse whisper. He was leaning heavily on Edith, still half-paralyzed, but his golden eyes were steady. “Blaise. We’re here.”
“We’re your friends.” Joe stepped forward too, holding out his hands to her despite the blistering heat. “You won’t hurt us.”
For a moment, Darcy didn’t think it would be enough. Blaise stared at them all from a nest of fire, and her burning eyes were as blank and uncaring as the Thunderbird’s.
Then she blinked. The flames around her flickered, fading. She collapsed to her knees, wings folding back into nothingness, and buried her face in her hands.
“Hey.” Joe was still swaying from his concussion, but he hurried to her side. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “It’s okay. You didn’t have a choice. He would have told you to do it, if he’d known what was happening. He’d want you to save yourself. And you did. You saved us all.”
Blaise’s shoulders heaved. She was sobbing so hard that it took Darcy a moment to understand what she was saying.
“Dad!” Blaise moaned, over and over, tears streaking her cheeks. “Dad!”
“I know, I know.” Joe rocked her, glancing up at them all. “Someone give her a phone. She needs to make a call.”
Since most of the crew were still in their pajamas, Darcy guessed they wouldn’t be able to help. She fumbled in her pocket, pulling out her phone. She barely had time to unlock it before Blaise snatched it out of her grasp.
“Please, please, please,” Blaise whispered brokenly, fingers shaking as she dialed. She put the device to her ear. “Please, please—Mom? Mom! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Is Dad—?”
She fell silent, listening. Glancing around, Darcy found all the shifters watching Blaise intently, motionless.
“Oh, thank God,” Blaise said, and all the shifters seemed to start breathing again. She glanced up at them, lifting the phone away from her ear a fraction. “He’s okay. Uncle Hugh was there. He managed to restart his heart.”
Rory closed his eyes for a moment, slumping in relief. “Ash is going to be fine?”
Blaise nodded, returned her attention to the phone. “No, we’re all okay here too. It’s not going to happen again, I swear. Is he awake yet? Can I talk to him?”
“Come on, we’ve got better things to do than eavesdrop.” Buck touched Darcy’s elbow, making her start. “I for one don’t want your boyfriend to wake up before we’ve got him hog-tied. Ideally upside-down over a barrel of holy water, and with a priest on speed dial.”
“Right.” Darcy bent to grab one of Fenrir’s arms. As she helped Buck lift him, she couldn’t help casting a glance back at Blaise. “What was all that about?”
“Damned if I know,” Buck grumbled, taking most of Fenrir’s weight. He shot Rory a narrow-eyed glare. “And after that little display, I am not being fobbed off with vague assurances that her animal doesn’t matter because she never shifts. What is she, Rory?”
“The Phoenix,” Rory said heavily. “Like her father.”
That explained the burning wings, Darcy supposed, though not the phone call. “I don’t get it. If Blaise could do that all along, why didn’t she burn the demons straight away? And why was she so anxious to call home?”
Rory’s gaze went to Blaise, still huddled over the phone. “Because there’s only one Phoenix.”
“But you just said—”
“There’s only one Phoenix.” The dim glow of the dying fires underlit Rory’s somber, exhausted face. “And when the new one rises, the old one dies.”
Chapter 37
Sound came back first.
“Is it working?”
“Sunrise thinks so. She says she can sense the poison in his blood. She’s purifying it now.”
Soft golden light crept through his veins, banishing the thick fog of the serum. His animal surged forward, teeth bared.
“What the—get back, Sunrise!”
“Fenrir, no! Don’t shift!”
But he had to shift. Because already something else was uncoiling in his soul, slithering upward, racing him for control of his body—
“Fenrir, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”
“Rory, use the alpha voice. Order him to stay human.”
“I don’t like—”
“I know, but I don’t think we have a choice. If he keeps trying to transform, he’s going to seriously injure himself.”
Pain sliced into him. There was something around his neck, his torso, squeezing his expanding form. His animal flinched, automatically starting to retreat, but he thrust it forward again. Better to rip himself apart than give his body back to her.
“Fenrir. Calm down. Don’t shift.”
His alpha’s voice, sharp as a lash against his mind.