Ghost Phoenix (24 page)

Chapter Twenty

Using her phantom power, Marian snuck them out of the hotel at the break of dawn. They left most of their stuff in the room, save for her laptop, phone and all their necessary documents to leave the country. Bringing their passports, she decided, was being very optimistic.

No, that was negative thinking.

Their rental car sat in the same spot in the parking lot and there was no sign of a watcher. Maybe the police weren't looking for them. Hah. More likely, it was Rasputin saying, “Come to mama.”

She stayed phantom, as planned. Richard took the wheel. She phased through to the back seat and only become solid when she was lying flat across it.

Their enemy couldn't know she was with Richard. Everything depended on it.

She closed her eyes as Richard drove down the mountain's winding road. Unexpectedly, her stomach grumbled. She smiled, remembering how Daz claimed eating a proper meal whenever possible was always smart when on duty. That lunch had been their last meal together.

She stopped smiling.

“Richard, I've made it clear that I can only stay phantom inside you for so long and that something may go wrong anyway. I'm pushing myself to the limit.”

“You've expressed doubts several times. I trust you. Now, just trust yourself.”

“Hah.” She wished for the right words again to tell Richard
thank you
, to tell him how glad she was they were trying to rescue Daz. Except now she was terrified she'd made the wrong call. What if fighting instead of doing what Rasputin wanted got all three of them killed, plus Richard's Queen? She sighed.

“What?” he asked.

“This is my plan, I got you into it. What if it doesn't work?”

“Richard Plantagenet, Prince of England, lets no one ‘get' him into things. He gets into them all by himself.”

His face was reflected in the rearview mirror and she saw him smile. He was making fun, teasing her, to relax.

“Yes, sire,” she said.

“That's better. We've chosen the opponent, the objective and the field of battle. No more room for nerves. That's what my teacher, Marshal, would say.”

“I'd like to meet him some day. And your Queen too.”

“You will.”

In far too short a time, they parked at the farmhouse. She concentrated, went phantom and sat up to take a look around.

It was deserted, the same as yesterday, save that it had rained last night and the brown grasses were wet.

Richard zipped up his hoodie and pushed up the sleeves.

“Preparing for battle?”

“Preparing for victory.” He looked around. “They're waiting inside, no doubt. Ready, Angel?”

“Ready.”

Once again, she became a phantom. This was the easy part. She sent up a silent prayer for the hard part and wafted from the car and inside Richard.

He shivered, only slightly. Oh, don't do that, she thought.

“Interesting,” he said.

Interesting hardly covered it. It was chaos hiding in a living, breathing body. Blood zoomed here and there. Air went in and out. Tiny electrical impulses zinged her.

Yet she could hold this. She had to. If she lost it inside Richard, she'd cut him to pieces from the inside. She loosely molded her phantom self to the contours of his body. She could see because her eyes looked out from his.

Richard put his hoodie over his head against the wind, got out of the car and strode toward the farmhouse.

Vaguely, she heard the wind ruffle Richard's sweatshirt. She thought of looking around but decided it was best to simply move with Richard, for as long as she could.

This time, the door to the farmhouse was unlocked. It opened to a kitchen empty of furniture.

“In here, Prince Richard.”

They walked past a stairwell that led to a basement and into the living room.

Rasputin, his cowl over his head, sat in the lone chair in the room, next to a great fireplace full of crackling, burning logs. A small army of monks framed their leader, their heads bowed.

Daz was on his knees in the middle of the room. His feet were bound and his hands were tied behind him. A monk had a sword to his neck. Dried blood covered a nasty scratch on his arm and a purpled bruise surrounded his left eye.

Daz! She fought the urge to run to him. For the plan to work, she needed to wait for the right moment.

“I brought him, as you wished. A gesture of trust,” Rasputin said.

“Release him,” Richard said.

“You cannot still hope to save the one who is your enemy?” Rasputin said.

Daz looked up at Richard. “So now I'm your enemy, Prince?”

“It seems the fates have decreed this to be,” Richard answered.

She wanted to yell at Daz that they were trying to save him, that he should praise Richard instead of insulting him. But how was Daz to know? She still had a kernel of doubt in her own mind.

Focus on staying hidden, she told herself, or things would get very messy.

“If you want the alliance with my court, you must tell me why you fear Alec Farley so much and why you refer to him as a fire demon. And having foreseen it is not an explanation, Monk.”

Rasputin stood, and Marian realized he was taller than Richard or anyone else in the room. Rasputin's eyes were round, unblinking saucers that almost glowed under the darkness of the cowl. If she had been in regular form, she would have shivered.

Richard was a rock.

“I have foreseen that a fire demon in the West will destroy our faith,” Rasputin said in a voice that Marian thought was far too mild. “This world will go up in flames if he's not stopped.”

“Have you always been right about the future, Gregori Rasputin?”

Rasputin nodded. “I see what may happen and work to prevent it for the good of all. If the czar had listened to me, his family would have lived and chaos could have been avoided.” He walked to stand next to Daz. “Here is the demon's emissary who set out to destroy me. Is that not proof enough of my prophecy? He came to me.”

“I'm here because your people shot at me in New York,” Daz said. “Talk about your self-fulfilling prophecies.”

“Do not question our saint!” One of the monks standing next to the fireplace brandished a dagger.

“Fuck that,” Daz said.

Richard smiled.

Rasputin put his arm up, signaling to his acolyte to still. “Peace. Prince Richard will become a believer as soon as his Queen is healed.”

“And what assurances do I have that you will save her?” Richard asked.

“What assurances do you have that she will survive without my help?” Rasputin pushed down his cowl.

Not an improvement, Marian decided. His skin was sallow and his eyes seemed almost buried in the sockets. Stringy hair hung from his skull.

Richard stared Rasputin down. Marian realized he was trying to be as still as possible, so she could hold her phantom form as long as possible.

“You came to me because there were no other options,” Rasputin said.

“I came to find your DNA, not your living self.” Richard flexed his hand and made a fist. “I can still obtain DNA from your body once I kill you.”

“Posturing,” Rasputin said. “You are outnumbered and outclassed.” His voice lowered to a more friendly tone. “I understand your pride, Prince Richard, but you will see I was right in the end, once your Queen is healed and we destroy the fire demon together.”

Richard said nothing. Rasputin walked over and put his hand on Richard's shoulder. It was all Marian could do not to flinch and reveal herself. Richard showed no sign of any emotion.

“It has been long since I made allies,” Rasputin said. “You may not realize this, but I'm glad to see you.”

“Says the spider to the fly.” Richard scowled.

Rasputin gestured, and two of the monks in the room leveled handguns at Richard. “Stubborn. Fine, here's your test.” He snapped his fingers at the monk holding a sword to Daz's neck. The monk handed the sword over to his leader.

Rasputin took Richard's hand and placed it on the pommel of the sword.

Oh, hell.

“If you want your Queen healed, kill the fire demon's follower. Else I will kill you and destroy the Queen in her New Orleans sickbed along with the rest of your people.”

“That's a threat, not an offer of alliance.”

“Threats seem to be all that will work with you.”

Richard took the sword. He flexed his hand on the pommel.

“Attack me with that, and you and Montoya are both dead,” Rasputin said.

Richard, no, Marian thought. Maybe he'd been faking. Maybe he knew Rasputin would ask him about this. Maybe he'd planned to betray Daz all along.

No, she would not believe it.
Stick to the plan.
Wait until the last possible second to reveal herself. Trust me, Daz, she thought.
Trust us.

Richard looked down at Daz. “You would do the same to save your people.”

Daz glared back. “Easy to say when you're the one with the sword.”

“I hope that your ghost doesn't haunt me.” Richard raised the sword to strike. “A phantom can do all manner of damage.”

Richard wasn't talking to Daz. He was talking to her. She slid out of him and into Daz.

Rasputin blinked, as if he'd seen her.

“What was that?” he asked Richard.

“What was what? You have the foresight. You should be able to tell me,” Richard said.

Marian settled in Daz's body. So far, so good. His heart was beating far faster, his blood pounding more than Richard's had been, and there was a searing pain in his shoulder from something Rasputin had done to him. His internal maelstrom threatened to throw her off track. Just a few more seconds. She thought back to her ghost impersonation in the abbey. This had to be something like that, something to make even Rasputin question himself.

“Ugh.” Daz said, his voice thick. “Just get it over with, prince guy, before I lose my cookies on my shoes.”

Though Daz didn't know she was there, he still felt her inside. She looked through Daz's eyes at Richard and Rasputin. The monk focused only on his supposed ally. Richard glanced down one more time at Daz and brought the sword down on his neck.

Chapter Twenty-One

As the blade descended, Marian clenched her jaw and exerted all the power she had into Daz.

He turned into a ghost. The blade passed right through his neck and sank into the floor with the force of Richard's blow.

“Holy fuck,” Daz whispered. He rolled to the side and snapped to his feet. “Marian?”

That was too much movement. She lost focus and dived out of Daz just before she became solid inside him.

She fell hard onto the floor, too exhausted to keep the phantom state. She blinked to clear her blurry vision. Her hands shook, the price of using her ability for so long.

When her vision cleared, all was chaos.

Richard cut a swath through the monks with the sword, striking them down left and right. Blood splashed against the walls. No more surfer dude, he was a warrior now, ducking one blow and releasing death with the next movement.

A monk rushed at him from the other side. He merely lifted the man and tossed him hard at his fellows, knocking them down like tenpins.

Daz, now armed with a dagger, stabbed a man attacking Richard from the rear.

Where was Rasputin?

“Daz!” Richard yelled. “Get Marian out of here and to the car! She's exhausted.”

Daz scooped her off the floor just as someone crashed down next to her. Blood dripped on her cheek.

“What about you?” Daz yelled.

“I'm for Rasputin. Go! Help's coming! Follow me when they get here.”

Richard kicked at the bricks in the fireplace, knocking an entire section aside and revealing a passageway beyond the fire.

He plunged into the opening.

Marian's energy returned about the time Daz reached the car. He set her against the car while he opened the door. “Get in before they come after us. We need to get clear.”

“We can't leave Richard!”

“We're not, we're just going to find some safe ground. You heard him. Help's coming. I believe him.”

So do I but…

She took a deep breath, feeling energy return to her limbs. “He could be dead if we wait!”

“You've done your part. It's his fight now and you're in no shape to continue this.”

“The hell I'm not.”

Daz grabbed for her. She sidestepped him and ran back to the house, changing back to a phantom as she ran. She floated through the outer wall and into the living room. Robe-clad bodies littered the floor. Bile rose in her throat at the smell of spilled blood and urine.

She swallowed down the revulsion and floated through the gaping hole in the fireplace bricks.

It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the dim lights overhead. This tunnel was in better order than the one between the museum and the Church of the Rock. The sides were smooth and the lighting even.

A loud crash echoed up to her, as if rocks smashed against metal.

Richard.

She let go of her phantom form, saving that energy for later, and ran toward the sounds, never so glad that she was a practiced runner. When she heard voices, she slowed, not wanting to stumble into a fight unexpectedly.

At a curve in the tunnel, she went phantom again and poked her head around the corner.

Richard, still armed with the sword, faced off against Rasputin. The monk raised his hand, and a rock flew through the air. Richard batted it away with the sword.

Damn. Rasputin was a telekinetic, a foreseer, maybe a telepath and seemingly impossible to kill. How long could Richard last against the onslaught?

Rasputin laughed. “You've gambled and lost everything, Richard the Spare Prince, Richard the Forgotten. I wanted your alliance but I'll settle for the destruction of your court. I should have known better than to trust a royal.”

Richard lunged for his opponent. Rasputin slashed a hand at the air, and fire engulfed the sword blade. Richard swore and tossed the weapon aside, his hand obviously seared by the heat.

“Richard the Strong,” Rasputin taunted again.

“Exactly.”

Richard leapt and tackled Rasputin, sending them both to the floor, hard. Richard's fist came down on Rasputin's face. Bones cracked. Marian cheered Richard on. Rasputin could rot in hell, as far as she was concerned.

There must be some way she could help beyond cheering from the sidelines.

The ground beneath them began to shake. Marian grabbed the wall for balance, lost her concentration and became solid again.

“Your woman is here. Good, you can die together,” Rasputin said.

The ground beneath them shook harder, sending Marian to her knees. A large piece of rock fell onto Richard's back, knocking him away from Rasputin.

“Marian, get out of here,” Richard said through clenched teeth. He tossed the boulder away, rolled to the side, grabbed the still-flaming sword, stood and ran Rasputin through.

“Survive that, Monk.”

Rasputin collapsed against the wall, his hands clutching at the blade that impaled him. He gurgled low in his throat. “Now hell will rain on you, false prince. This has only started.” With every word, he spit out blood.

A fireball grew above the Mad Monk, blasting heat through the tunnel. Rasputin raised his arm. It was engulfed by flames that quickly spread around his whole body.

“Now who's a fire demon?” Marian said.

Rasputin glanced at her but tossed the fireball at Richard.

Marian leaped into Richard, turning them both immaterial as the fire roared through them. Hot needles stabbed at every pore of her body. She closed her eyes, counting, all her focus on keeping them safe from the fire.

She looked up just as the ceiling came crashing down around them.

Richard woke coughing from the dust on his tongue. He opened his eyes to nothing but darkness.

“Don't move,” Marian whispered.

She was curled against his side, her hands wrapped around him. He blinked again and still there was nothing but darkness.

“Where?” he whispered.

“We're in an air pocket that's about seven feet across and four feet deep. I couldn't make my way to the surface, not carrying you, so as soon as I found a clear space, I rested.” She sighed. “I'm sorry, I should've gotten us out. But I didn't know what way was up or down at that point. I just knew we needed air.”

She babbled. It meant she was nervous. Or terrified. How could she not be, after Rasputin dropped a mountain on them? If only Richard believed that had been his death throes. He didn't, not after the madman seemed convinced he'd survive.

“Angel, it's a miracle we're alive. Thank you.”

“No, you saved me first.”

“A good partnership.”

He closed his eyes, thinking about his limbs, wondering how badly he was injured. Little pockets of healing energy tingled all over him, especially at the hip, but molten heat enveloped the hand that had grabbed the sword. Badly burned but healing, he thought.

“We might not be okay for long,” she whispered. “The pocket is unstable. It could collapse. And we're going to run out of air soon.”

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“Not long, I think, but I don't have a watch or my phone.”

“I could try and dig us out.”

“Do you think you could do that without somehow collapsing all this on us?”

“I don't know.” Carefully, he reached his arm around to pull her closer. “Damn.” They could not die like this, trapped like animals in a lair. “There must be a way out. I would guess this is a collapsed shaft in one of the closed mines.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means there might be an easy way for searchers to find us by digging parallel to the old shaft.”

And there was no need for her to stay with him. “Angel, go,” he whispered. “You can make your way through the rock, to a clear shaft. He paused. “And then bring help to me.”

That was a lie. There was no guarantee she could bring searchers back. But she would be safe.

“I'm not leaving you.” She hugged him harder. “I don't know which way is up. I could get lost searching for daylight and then die trapped inside the rocks. One of my ancestors died that way, or so I'm told. That story always gave me nightmares.”

“You will succeed and live.”

“Stop trying to get rid of me.”

In the darkness, he felt for her lips with his finger. He bent his head and kissed her.

She laid her head on his chest. “It's my fault. If I hadn't talked you into doing things differently…”

“Then Daz would be dead and you would hate me.” He rested his hand on her curls. “I could never live with your hate, Angel.”

“I love you,” she said.

“That would be mutual.” He closed his eyes. Breathing seemed more difficult.

“If I go phantom in here, it will save air for as long as I can hold it. That could buy us more time, if you think they're searching for us.”

“Excellent idea.” It would keep her alive longer.

Spots appeared before his eyes, a sure sign the air was getting thin. He felt Marian vanish from his arms but he still felt her presence. He could die here but, God's eyes, she must live.

He clenched his fists, so angry that they would end this way, that he would never have a chance for so much with her and that she would never have the chance to live her own life, with her own choices.

I won't leave you, she'd said.

“I love you, Angel.”

“Richard?”

He blinked. A voice inside his head? It must be a hallucination that signaled the onset of death.

“Richard, this is Beth Nakamora. I'm here with Alec and Daz, and we're going to get you out.”

“Get Marian out first.”

“I can't read or talk to Marian. Her mind is opaque to me. It has to be both of you or neither of you.”

“The air runs low. You don't have much time.”

“We came as quickly as we could after your phone call last night. You can hold on. Alec is moving as fast as he can to find a way for his TK to pull you out. You have to hold on for just a few more minutes.”

He licked his lips. “Angel?”

“Yes?” She floated above him, living up to the name he'd given her.

“Help's coming. Daz, Alec Farley and Beth Nakamora.”

“Okay.”

She doubted him. She thought he was hallucinating or making up something to comfort her. Maybe he was. But he would hold on to hope.

He felt the weight of her against him again, curled in his arms. “I couldn't hold it,” she whispered. “I'm too exhausted.”

“Help is coming. Rest now.”

“Beth Nakamora? Still there?”

“Here. There's a way but it's tricky. About two feet below you is an underground river with headroom. Alec can drop you both into that. But the current's fast, he says, and it will dump you out in the river underwater. He can try and hold on but there's no guarantee of it. You might have to make it to the surface on your own.”

He could barely hear Marian breathe anymore. Time had run out.
“Do it, Nakamora.”

He twisted Marian around, so her back was against his chest. If they ended up in the water, this was the best way to keep her head above the surface, at least until they hit the river.

It was also the best way to hold her and make for the surface.

And instant later, the ground crumbled under them. He fell, but in a split second, they plunged into cold water and went under. He kicked hard, his grip tight around her waist. They broke to the surface and its welcome air. His hair brushed lightly against the top of the underground channel where the stream flowed.

The stream swirled, turning them sideways. Nakamora had been right. It was a wicked current. Don't fight it, he told himself, remembering Marshal's advice about surrendering to the water rather than forcing control on it.

The stream dipped, and they went under once more. When they came up for air again, Marian sputtered.

“What's going on?”

“Farley dropped us into an underground stream. We have air. For a moment, as we're about to spilled out into the River Nehe.”

“What?” she asked. “Farley? He made it this fast?”

“Not now. Take a deep breath, suck in as much air as you can, Angel, and trust me.”

They filled their lungs just as they were dumped into a much larger body of water. He saw nothing but murky depths. Up, he thought, but which way? He kicked but it only spun them around. He felt Marian's hold on his arm tighten.

Let the water be an extension of him. All right. He relaxed and felt them spin free of the depths. He kicked again, hoping he was going up. He caught the glimmer of sunlight above, or thought he did.

His lungs burned. Marian was limp and lifeless.

“Richard, hang in there. Alec's trying to get you.”

He held Marian close.
“I see the surface. I'm headed up.”

He kicked, over and over, hoping his new psychic strength was still in effect. The spots appeared before his eyes again, but he only kicked harder.

His head broke the surface.

Water spit into his eyes. He took a deep breath, holding Marian above the waves.

“Breathe, damn you, Angel! Breathe!”

He looked around. No boat, no helicopter. Marian needed resuscitation now!

As soon as he finished that thought, they were lifted out of the water. Farley.

Stellar.

In a few seconds, they landed on the river's banks. Farley and Nakamora were there.

“Help her!”

Farley lifted Marian from Richard's arms and began mouth-to-mouth. Impossibly long seconds passed by. Someone tried to slap an oxygen mask on him. He pushed the prying hand away.

Marian coughed and spit out water. Farley turned her on her side as she expelled the last of it. He moved over and held her head as she finished retching.

He pulled her against him. She still breathed heavily, but she breathed. She was alive.