Page 9

CHAPTER

NINE

PHOENIX

After our honest conversation about our relationship, we had a few really amazing days. Quiet. The kind of quiet and normal that Sam had been asking for. She’d started training again, but from what Chris said, she was low on energy. Was it crazy to ask her to do another exorcism?

Yes. It was. That was a shit idea.

And yet, was it? She was so much better after the exorcism at the hospital, but the effects faded. She was having trouble sleeping at night, but tonight after dinner, she’d wanted to watch a movie. So, we were in her room—newly fixed up by Cosette. The TV came up from a chest at the foot of her bed, which made lounging here really nice. I was propped up against the pillows and headboard, and she was curled up in a ball with her head on my lap. With the blankets and soft mattress, I wasn’t surprised she’d fallen asleep so quickly.

I hadn’t been paying attention to the movie at all, so I turned the volume down once I knew she was asleep and continued reading my latest pick—a book about the spiritual realm. I was pretty sure that was going to be my life now, and I wanted to understand and be helpful to her.

I flicked away a drop-down notification. They’d been nonstop all evening.

The latest one was from my agent. She’d get the hint eventually. I tilted my head back, melting into the mountain of pillows on Sam’s new bed.

The second day after becoming Sam’s anchor to this world, Chris and Cosette showed up with a delivery truck. Cosette said it was a gift from Van. What they unloaded was basically Samantha’s dream bedroom—at least according to her. Not long after that, another car pulled up. This time it was a designer who came with all the trimmings and details to make her room feel like something out of a magazine.

It was weird to me that the fey warrior dude—Van—had never shown back up, but no one else seemed surprised by that. Still, it was solid of him that he’d refurnished her room and then some.

The bed was much bigger than her old one—a massive king-sized, cream-colored, tufted linen head and footboard, beast of a bed. The mattress was the top-of-the-line memory foam with crisp white sheets and a cushy white duvet. There was a brightly patterned quilt filled with rich colors depicting a forest sunset at the end of the bed. The throw pillows pulled colors from the quilt, and that seemed to really, truly make Samantha happy. The smile on her face…it had been the best.

The walls were now painted a rich, dark forest green. They’d put up patterned blackout shades. The bed tables were light wood with drawers, and glowing lamps that looked like clear, iridescent bubbles. They’d even put down a new geometrically-patterned rug that was soft on my feet.

The sitting area was completely redone, too. The shelves were now built-in along one wall, complete with little gallery lights at the top and a sliding ladder. There were two chairs instead of one, plus a loveseat.

When I’d asked how Cosette found the designer who could get all this done so quickly, she said not to worry about it. I felt like that was code for fey stuff because when I furnished my house, it had taken a while. I’d paid to expedite shipping on everything, looked for things in stock, but in the end, it was only just finished. It took me months, but they got hers done in forty-eight hours.

In a weird way, the room made me realize how different her life was from mine. From normal. From anything I knew. I was pretty sure the fey guy had somehow made the room bigger because it felt bigger, but I wasn’t going to ask. My mind had been blown so many times the last few days, I honestly didn’t need to go looking for more things to make me feel like I didn’t belong.

Because I did. With her, I knew I did.

Samantha stirred in her sleep, and I ran my hand along her spine, easing whatever dream she was having, then went back to reading my book.

I didn’t get past one line before another notification popped up. This time from my mother.

Were my agent and my mother tag-teaming me on purpose? It wouldn’t be the first time. They both wanted something from me, but this time I didn’t feel like giving them anything. Right here was exactly where I wanted to be, and I wasn’t going to be swayed by what either of them said. Not to come home. Not to go back to play next season. None of it.

It buzzed again, and I opened my texts. Mom. There was nothing I could say to make her understand. She’d never liked Samantha. She knew about the time Sam had spent in an institution and assumed some pretty awful things, and that was before that night with the cops. I’d never seen her more upset.

Wait. That wasn’t true. She was really pissed for a long time after my father left us.

But aside from my father leaving, I’d never seen her rant about anything like she had after that night. She blamed Samantha entirely for my near-arrest and refused to hear anything I said.

After Samantha saved my sister from Astaroth, she ranted that whole lecture to me again. It felt like it was almost word-for-word. I knew it probably wasn’t, but the gist was the same. It was all fear-based. The first time, she was afraid I’d get thrown in jail and that she wouldn’t have the money to get me out. My budding career would’ve been ruined, and I wouldn’t have played professional soccer.

With Rain, well…Mom was just helpless with what had happened to my sister. She couldn’t make sense out of it and really didn’t like it when she couldn’t control something. But the spiritual realm wasn’t something to be controlled.

Even if I knew her reasoning, I didn’t think it was fair to take any of that out on Samantha. None of what happened was Sam’s fault, but Mom disagreed. The truth was—she and I didn’t agree on much. Hadn’t for a while. Abuela had been the only one that held us together.

I thought moving here and us all being together would fix things, but now, I was pretty sure the only thing that moving here did was put me back on my path with Samatha.

I glanced at the text, but it was still Mom being upset with me. Wanting me to come home. Hating on Sam. It wasn’t even worth the time to read it, especially when it made me angry. I put my phone down. I’d deal with that later.

The sound of the garage door opening told me that Ana was home. She’d gone to help someone. Thankfully, everyone was giving Sam a break. There hadn’t been any demonic activity that required her help.

I grabbed my phone, checking the time again. 2:30 AM. I’d be shocked if Sam made it another thirty minutes before waking up.

I opened my text chain with Ana. We’re in Sam’s room. She fell asleep two minutes into the movie. Sleeping soundly so far.

Good. I’ll be up in a few.

I looked down at Samantha. Her face was so relaxed as she slept, and she looked at peace. I was really thankful she wasn’t having a nightmare and was truly resting. She’d been so restless all night. But this was good. She’d feel much better when she woke up.

I heard some rustling in the kitchen below, then footsteps coming up the stairs.

Sam’s bedroom door opened, and Ana stepped through. She tiptoed to the bed and looked down at Sam. She reached out like she wanted to touch her but pulled her hand away.

That movement reminded me so much of Sam. I wondered if they knew how much they were alike.

Ana gave me a smile, one that looked just like her daughter’s, and pulled out her phone. She motioned to mine, so I opened up our text thread.

She doing okay?

I gave her a nod, then typed back. Yes. Ate some dinner. We went for a walk around the development, but she fell asleep really fast once the movie was on. Hoping that she makes it through the night.

Ana let out a soft hmm . I don’t know. I want that for her, but I have a feeling tonight will be rough.

My stomach dropped. I glanced up at her quickly. I didn’t like that at all. Did something happen while you were out?

Ana gave me a sad smile and started to type again. Not exactly. I mean—this lady is going to need a lot more help than what we could do in one night, but she’ll be okay. I think.

You think?

Unfortunately. We’ve seen that sometimes demonic ties are like an addiction. Once formed, you have to continually work to not go down that path again.

Interesting.

Ana motioned to Sam, then texted. She’ll be okay. She’s been through a lot, but she always bounces back.

I nodded. From everything I knew—everything I could see about her—that was true. But I wasn’t sure what I would do if something happened to her.

The idea had my heart racing, and I honestly thought I might throw up. I wanted to be here—there wasn’t a chance that I’d leave—but watching her suffer like that again…

Sam suddenly stirred in her sleep. Her eyes didn’t open, but her hand found mine—the one that was resting on her shoulder. She wove her fingers through mine and muttered softly. “Everything’s okay, Nix.”

“Shhhh,” I said and rubbed my free hand down her back. After a second, she settled back down.

I’d been noticing things like that the last few days. One of us would be thinking something, and the other would respond in some way. I wasn’t sure if Sam had noticed it. I wasn’t sure what to think about it, but I had a feeling this was something to do with the anchor bond we shared. It was like we were hyper attuned to each other’s emotions.

My phone lit up again.

You okay?

I looked up, nodded. I couldn’t explain what I was feeling to myself, let alone to someone else. Maybe that was why I was avoiding my mother’s texts. I had no idea what to say to her or how to explain it in a way she’d accept.

I’d told her I was visiting a friend, and that I was twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine. I’d be back in a couple of days to get some more of my things, officially putting her off for a little while longer.

I wasn’t outright lying to her. She knew the friend was Samantha, but I wasn’t elaborating it for her. Especially with how awful she was in her latest text, saying that I’d abandoned my sister in her time of need. Which I hadn’t. I’d found someone to truly help Rain when no one else could, and now Rain had the support she needed. And I was needed here for now.

I knew that for certain because I’d texted with Rain, and she was fine. She told me to stay with Samantha. That Sky was keeping an eye on her, and she’d call me if she needed me. Then, I confirmed that was true in a separate text with Sky. My sister told me that if Rain got in trouble again, I’d be her first call. Which made me feel much better. If that happened, I would go home. No problem. I’d probably bring Samantha with me, but I’d deal with Mom if it happened. There was no way I’d let my mother insult Samantha again.

My phone lit up. You okay?

She’d asked again, which meant I should probably answer. I don’t know what I’m going to do with my mom. She really doesn’t like Samantha. I hit send before I could stop myself, and then winced. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to send to the person-in-question’s mother. Ana was just so kind and easy to talk to. Nothing like my mother.

Ana sat on the foot of the bed, studying me for a second, before typing on her phone. Part of growing up means deciding who you are, who you want to be, and who you want to spend your life with. Unfortunately for your mother, you seem to have answers to a lot of those questions, that she just doesn’t agree with. But it is your life. You can only walk the path that God sets before you, which I think you are doing. Your mother has always been extremely opinionated. You might want to think about drawing boundaries for how much you let her into your life.

I read the text, but I was confused. What do you mean by boundaries?

Ana bit her lip as she typed, and again, it reminded me of Sam. A minute later, my phone lit up.

Drawing boundaries became essential for me when I got pregnant with Samantha. If my mother had her way, I’d have either aborted or gotten rid of her. But my mom helped me for a little while so that I could finish my nursing degree while Sam was a baby, but I left as soon as I could. I haven’t looked back. Letting her in even a little bit was toxic for all of us. I’m not saying that you have to cut your mother out of your life, but sometimes you have to evaluate who you let into your life and how much access they have to you. Regardless of your relationship with them.

Deciding how much access someone had to me. That made sense, and it made me feel like I was on the right path. Some of the guilt I had for telling my mom what she was allowed to demand from me and what I wouldn’t tolerate faded away.

Thank you. That’s actually helpful. I sent it and realized that I hadn’t seen or even heard any mention of Samantha’s grandparents. I bet it was hard when you left.

Ana gave me a small smile before texting me back. Life is hard, but worth it. She was worth it to me. She immediately sent another text. Not that you have to choose between Sam and your mom. Your mom never liked us. She thought Sam was trouble, that I was a bad mother, and our religious beliefs bothered her. I don’t think your mom will come around to liking Sam, but I could be wrong. It’s something that you’re going to have to work out with her. I just ask that you not pit my daughter against your mother. It would only hurt Sam. Maybe your life with Sam is something that’s off-limits for your mother? Maybe you decide when you talk to her or how she’s allowed to talk to you? I don’t know, but it’s something to think about.

I nodded. I won’t let her hurt Samantha. For sure. I want to protect Sam against anything and everything. Even my mother.

Thank you.

She didn’t have to thank me. Not for that. My mom and I…we had a difficult relationship. She was harsh, brash, rude, condescending…but she could be kind. When it suited her.

That didn’t sound good even in my head.

My phone lit up, and thankfully, it was my agent. She was likely overseas and not expecting me to answer in the middle of the night, but she must’ve seen me checking the text—those three dots screwed me over—so she decided to call me.

Not right now. I sent her to voicemail.

She called again. I sent her to voicemail again, then texted her. One second. And then I pulled up the text chain with Sam’s mom. Will you take a picture of us?

She smiled, and slid her phone into her pocket, taking mine.

She stood up and angled the phone a little to get both of us. I looked down at Sam, who was still fast asleep. Still beautiful. Still blowing my mind at the depth of my feelings for her.

Maybe they didn’t make sense, but they were there all the same.

Ana handed my phone back to me, and I smiled at the picture of us. I was definitely framing that one. I sent my agent the picture. I can’t talk right now. My girl is asleep, and I’m not waking her up.

Who is that? What the hell is going on?

Samantha. The One. I’d gotten embarrassingly drunk once and told my agent the whole story of that night. I wasn’t sure she believed me, but in the end, I told her Sam was the one. The one that got away. The one I dreamed about more often than I ever dared to admit. The one I wanted and would never let go of now that I had her.

Wait. That’s her? That’s the Samantha you were talking about? The demon girl?

What the hell. She’s not a demon girl.

Ana waved at me, motioned to the door, and then quietly tiptoed out of the room, closing Sam’s door gently. I was glad that Ana had stayed and texted with me. Her advice about my mom and boundaries really hit home. Samantha was lucky to have the mom she did.

My phone lit up again.

No. That’s her. I’ve seen her on the news. She works with the pack in Texas, right? That’s who that is, right? She’s the girl that kills demons.

Wait. Was this a known thing? I know Sam said she’d turned down interviews, but if that was true, how could my agent know about her? Sam never posted pictures on social media of herself. I checked. How do you know that?

Shit. Nix. Do you ever watch the news? They got a picture of her once, and Tessa—the pack spokesperson or whatever—talked about who she was and what she did for the pack. She’s been incredibly hard to pin down, but there’s whole online communities trying to track her down and find out more info about her.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t know this. You know I only watch sports news. Just soccer stuff though. Aside from a match, I hardly watch any live TV. The rest of the news is fear mongering and lies.

I’m not going to respond to that, but okay. Call me when you can talk. I have amazing news for you.

News? I knew what that meant. My agent wanted me to keep playing, and if not that, she wanted me to be a sports commentator.

No, thanks. I was done with that part of my life.

And it wasn’t because of Sam. I was done before I found her again. I used the injury as an excuse, but I didn’t want to go back. I hadn’t been lying to Sam on that stairwell. I didn’t love soccer. It was never my dream.

As I’d lain on the stadium floor in Madrid, it had hit me.

I’m not upset.

I’d suffered what could’ve potentially been a career-ending injury, and aside from the pain, I didn’t care. More than that, I was relieved.

And I knew I was done with the sport.

I never had a dream of my own, but as I sat there with Samantha lying across my lap in the dark of night, a movie playing softly in the background, I felt like whatever this was, it could be a pretty nice dream.

I had finally found my place. Doing something that I wanted to do. Being with the person that I never thought I’d get to be with.

And she was mine.

Maybe she didn’t understand it yet, but I did. She was mine, and I was utterly and completely hers.

Samantha gasped suddenly—a sharp, scary sound. She shot up off the bed in one movement.

“Sam?” I asked, softly. “Are you okay?”

She spun around the room, searching for what, I didn’t know.

There was a howl of a wolf.

Then another.

And one more.

Then a bunch all together.

“Shit,” she said, then she raced out of the room.

It took me a second to realize that something was wrong. I wasn’t sure why I was slow, but the 180-degree turn was hard to wrap my mind around. Other than the wolves going nuts, nothing seemed wrong.

I heard Ana call out for Samantha to stop, and I raced across the room, taking the stairs three at a time, jumping the last bit before racing out the front door after Samantha.

I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew I had to get there. Fast. Something told me she was going to need me, and I wasn’t about to let her down.

Not now.

Not ever.