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Us? “What do you mean, us?”
“I’m not who you think I am.”
“Phoenix?” I’m so confused by how this has suddenly turned. Phoenix is perfect. Is she saying she thinks she is—
She spins and glares at me. “I lied to you.”
“What?” What is she even talking about? “How? When?”
“Every day you’ve known me. I’m a lie!”
I try to reach for her, but she snatches her arm away before I can touch her.
“Then tell me now.”
“You thought I was nineteen when you met me, but I was much, much older.”
I frown, not understanding. “Okaaay,” I say, but she shakes her head.
“I’m ancient. More ancient than you. But most of my life was spent in a dark, dark place.” She shudders, and again, I want to reach for her. “There was only darkness and no light, and it was so cold. I didn’t know how cold and freezing it was, only that each moment was a misery until I finally glimpsed light and warmth.”
Her eyes close, and her features twist in a mask of horror. “They say that hell is a hot, fiery place, but I know it’s cold. Frozen with no light. So, so dark.” She’s shuddering so hard now, and all I want to do is take her in my arms. She’s in so much pain, I can’t stand it. But again, when I try to hold out a comforting hand, she yanks back.
“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“I was a spirit!” Phoenix says, flinging her arms out. “I am one. I come from another realm. I glimpsed this realm when some mage or other was fucking around like Sabra does with her circles, trying to make contact with planes beyond this one. It wasn’t even a mage, just a woman with mage blood who kept crying out in powerful desperation to whatever spirit might help her. I latched on to her and answered. I gave her instructions on how to save herself, but it came at a terrible cost. Because I was desperate, too. So hungry I would have done anything to get into this world.” She flings an arm out again. “Just like those spirits breaking through now.”
“Wait,” I hold a hand up, so confused. “What are you saying? You lied about Vlad taking you from your mother and father? You’re not related to Vlad at all? Is he another spirit, too?”
“No, no,” she shakes her head impatiently. “I used him. I used all my ancestors.” She looks at me, her eyes wild as if she’s desperate for me to understand. “I felt the warmth coming from here when I was in the other realm. And I felt their pumping blood with its potential and all the life here. I didn’t know much, but I knew the blood… the blood was the key. It was the way in. It drew me like a moth to a flame.
“That first human with mage blood that made contact with me was the real Vlad Dracul’s wife. She called out into the darkness of the spirit realm, begging for help, and I answered. I made a bargain with her. A blood oath just like Vlad used to imprison Sabra’s mother and your family and countless others. It started with me. I made a blood oath with her—to save her life in exchange for the baby boy in her belly once he became a man. A son named after his father. Vlad. The first vampire.”
Phoenix’s voice is a dry, horrified whisper as she continues. “But I didn’t bargain only for him. It was for his son, too. And his son, and his son, and his son. They would drink the blood of humans for generations, feeding me until I had enough power to finally, finally get myself born into this world twenty-nine years ago.”
Holy shit. So that’s where vampires come from.
I have so many questions.
But right then, a loud beeping alert comes from the computer behind Phoenix. We both turn to look, and then Phoenix leaps for the mouse to click on the alert. “There she is! We finally found Ammit.”
“Where?”
Phoenix clicks through to get to the feed that caught Ammit’s image and clicks play. Then she swears. “I’ve got to call John Paul.”
“John Paul?” I ask, confused, then remember that’s Professor Dickhead’s first name. “Ammit’s at the university?”
Phoenix stabs at the buttons on her phone in a panic. “Headed straight toward the building where he’s got class in a little bit. Maybe he was trying to hunt her down himself and somehow managed to make contact with her? Or she heard about his research? It can’t be a coincidence that she’s there, can it? Dammit, pickup!”
The phone’s on speakerphone, and I hear it go to voicemail.
She grabs me by the hand, fear in her eyes. “We’ve got to get there now. We’ve got to help him.”
I nod, and together, we sprint for the garage at the opposite end of the compound. Me and my goddess wife, who bargained and lied and stole her way into this world through a path paved in blood.
Chapter Eighteen
