Page 61 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)
Epilogue
Eliza
Doors rose from the misty, stony ground, encompassing the space and surrounding me from every direction. All doors were made of wood, and each had, or didn’t have, a certain appeal. I’d already learned the nature of four doors from many years of traversing Lonaria, the Realm of Dreams.
The door directly to my left, which had a serene yet somewhat tense feeling, would lead me to Aderra, the Realm of the Living—which were all big words that meant planet Earth.
To my two o’clock, a door wearing a faint smoke was bound to a certain person’s subconsciousness. I’d mentally bookmarked that door, knowing I would use it often in the near future.
Directly behind me, there was a door with a soft halo that was both gentle and blood-chillingly dangerous. That was a door that, unlike the other three I’d memorized, I only used once, when I was younger and much more reckless.
That was a mistake I would not repeat.
The fourth door, out of the dozens that had appeared around me, that I was intimately acquainted with was right in front of me. It was the simplest door, not giving off any sort of feeling, which had tricked me, once upon a time, into thinking its inhabitant was harmless.
I’d learned the hard way that, like everything in my life, anything that seems innocent never really is.
I steadied myself, preparing for what I was likely to find, before I pulled the door open and stepped through the threshold into searing brightness. Squinting, I kicked the door shut behind me and allowed my eyes to adjust. Once they did, I blinked and stared.
No matter how many times I came here, I could not get used to the sight.
It wasn’t that the scenery was interesting; the place was like a large ballroom, with marble floors and walls and iridescent chandeliers dangling from the dome-shaped ceiling.
It was that in the center of the ballroom, on a throne made of bronze leaves, was a sight no living being should behold.
At first glance, it looked like a human man. He had pearly white hair trickling like a waterfall into a pool on the floor. He was tall and slender, with unblemished skin the color of deep indigo, and he sat draped in a toga-like silk cloth almost as white as his hair.
If that wasn’t enough to make this manlike existence seem ethereal, then the eyes did the trick: The sclera was as black as the night, the irises the color of pure lavender, and its pupils entirely silver.
No matter how many times I saw the Spirit of Providence, I was always dumbstruck, needing to process what I was seeing, for no human had skin nor eyes like his.
“Hello, Eliza,” the Spirit now said, my name a song on his lips. He tapped on the floor with his bare feet. “Come sit.”
Obediently, I walked toward him and pulled myself down to my knees on the marble floor at his feet. With my arms resting at my sides, I bent my torso forward and said, “Greetings, Marduk.”
Marduk wriggled his toes, motioning for me to straighten.
I did, and stared into his inhuman eyes, holding my hands near my belly.
His unusually ethereally beautiful face split into a wide smile.
“You must wonder why I called for you,” he said in a deeply masculine voice that, had he been a real human man, would’ve made me think dirty thoughts.
But that was far from the case with Marduk, and with a being like him, one is advised to take caution.
He was the most intelligent being I’d ever encountered.
He didn’t alter his tone of voice just for the heck of it.
Everything he did was a calculated move meant to bring him the advantage in every social setting.
Even though I’d known him my whole life, I had yet to figure out how to navigate the labyrinth of Marduk’s mind.
He crossed his legs and gave me a look that, on anyone else, I would’ve said seemed like urgent concern. But I’d learned that with Marduk, assumption wasn’t just the mother but the entire damned family of all fuckups.
“The Phoenix has appeared in the Realm of the Living,” Marduk now said, and even though I’d witnessed it myself, the shock of his words, of my own memories, stiffened my spine. “You must eliminate its host.”
I knew it was coming, and yet the words still came like a fucking wrecking ball. I’d told Aileen Henderson that once her threat progressed beyond two, she would be in danger. At first, I thought it would be because she would resurrect the Morrow Gods.
But Aileen Henderson went and did something even worse: She became a Spirit’s host, and not just any Spirit—the Phoenix, a being that, if it so wanted, could bring destruction to the Realm of the Living.
“We can’t let the Phoenix have free rein in Aderra, Eliza,” Marduk said, probably sensing my consternation. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how much is at stake here.”
He was right. The Phoenix was a literal catastrophe. Back at the Hecatomb arena, just seeing it made my other self rise, putting a target on the Phoenix with the awful, terrifying label, enemy .
I’d also witnessed the dance of the Phoenix, though in its smaller, less brutal form. It used it singularly on Atalon, but it could just as easily use it to massacre hundreds of thousands if it so wished.
There were five levels of threats in the Realm of the Living.
The first level included regular supernatural creatures, like vampires, Dryads, Malachi, and the like.
The second level involved more complicated cases, like Aileen Henderson, being the awful Morrow Gods’ descendant.
Level three usually pertained to supernatural creatures who developed extremely dangerous powers.
Ragnor Rayne was such a creature, but since he had no ambition to use his powers for mass destruction, his threat level was considerably lower.
The fact that the Phoenix was level five, the highest of all levels, was enough to cause a collective apoplexy among the shadow leaders of the Realm of the Living, with Marduk being their spokesperson in this instance.
So I had no other choice but to say, “I understand.”
Marduk was quiet for some time, giving my face a long look that made me fidget before he suddenly asked, “How is your eye?”
It took everything in me not to flinch. He was talking about my left eye. The one that was sewn shut by a long scar. “Fine,” I somehow managed to grit out. It had been years since he mentioned my left eye. Why now?
He grinned knowingly, and it made my stomach churn in warning. “How about this?” he murmured. “If you eliminate the Phoenix’s host within the next six months, I will give you back your eye.”
I stared at him, confused. It took me a full minute to comprehend what he was saying. My lips parted, and sweat trickled down my temples. I should’ve been happy; having my left eye back was the one thing I wanted more than anything else in this world.
But in all forty years of servitude, not once had Marduk promised me such a thing. Until now. And that fact could only mean one thing.
If I kill Aileen Henderson, he will kill me.
Why? Why did Aileen have to summon the Phoenix from Esheer? Why couldn’t she just stay put and act like a normal fucking vampire? Why was she insisting on making Ragnor my enemy?
Ragnor, the man who was like the brother I never had. A man I trusted with my life—but not with the knowledge I held.
Before Aileen appeared in Ragnor’s life, I had no trouble. I did my job. I acted like a good apostle of Marduk. I made sure to keep the other in check. My left eye barely even itched.
Now, my left eye itched constantly, as if to warn me of what was to come. The other took control over my body, pushing me into my mind, unable to leave my mental chamber but for visiting Marduk, like I did now.
And the worst thing yet was, I was now considering betraying the being that was my everything. The being that had been there for me. That had hurt me and built me up. The being I served with my own entire fucking being.
How could I betray him? How could I betray my god?
Yet how could I possibly kill Ragnor’s Alara Morreh?
Sucking in a deep breath, I dared attempt a different way. A different path. I asked, “What if I manage to banish the Phoenix back to Esheer without harming its host?”
Marduk looked at me with his horribly beautiful face frowning in evident disapproval. “I did not expect my most excellent apostle to question my command. Especially not with the promise of a long-sought-after reward.”
“Please,” I blurted, looking down and bowing yet again. Don’t give up, Eliza. You have to try. “Let me punish the Phoenix directly, not its innocent host.”
“Innocent?” Marduk’s voice was incredulous, and I winced but kept my bowing position, despite the uncontrollable trembling of my body. “The host has summoned that fiend . Nothing about them is innocent .”
“The end result would be the same,” I said, voice shaking. “The Phoenix will be removed from Aderra, and ... and we’ll prevent a death—”
“ You dare go against my words? ” Marduk’s voice suddenly grew, making my trembling worsen. “ Your insolence knows no bounds! ”
I couldn’t do this after all. I just couldn’t. “Forgive me,” I whispered, crying at the terrible aftershock of his words. “Forgive me, Marduk. I did not mean to be insolent. It was a suggestion—a bad suggestion. Please ...” I bowed deeper, tears falling to the floor. “Have mercy.”
Marduk made a hissing sound that made my trembling even worse.
“The only mercy you will receive is by bringing me the host’s head,” he said in a smooth, silky voice that made shivers cascade down my spine.
“There is no other suggestion .” He spit the word as if he didn’t even want to utter it.
“My word is law, Eliza. You will do as I say, like you always did. You will not question my motives. You will not make any other suggestions . You will do what you are told as my chosen apostle.”
His words were laced with venom and authority. There was no room for negotiation. As he said, his word was law.
And I was a mere apostle. A half-human hybrid who was forced to submit to her maker. Her destroyer. Her everything.
I wouldn’t be able to save Aileen Henderson after all. And neither would Ragnor Rayne.
My life as I’d known it, the life I’d worked to cultivate outside of my role as Marduk’s apostle was officially over.
Grief tore me apart from the inside. Grief for the life I thought I could have. The life I thought I deserved. The life I thought I could make for myself.
What a fool you are, Eliza Wains.
And so I did the only thing I could. I bowed again, staring at the floor, and in a barely audible whisper, forced out, “Yes, Spirit of Providence.”