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Seven Acts of Blasphemy

SOLARIS

S he’d thought she died the night of the Clash. When I had informed her that we were both alive, her face slid into a shade of disappointment so potent, it had haunted my soul ever since. From that moment on, it seemed like she’d been trying to correct what she perceived to be a mistake. And damn her if she wasn’t adamant. She quite literally threw herself into the face of death repeatedly. Each time, it evaded her.

She needed to realize the death she yearned so desperately for was spiritual, not physical.

Stubborn, stubborn creature. Clinging to the past.

After everything, her ego still hung on for dear life, remaining a fractured mask over the beaming glory of her true self.

She was getting there, though. Almost fully cracked.

I had her laid out on the counter. Seeing her like this, unconscious and soaked with blood, was enough to send the entire world into darkness. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to focus for her sake. The lack of shadows in my veins throbbed like one of the open wounds I was about to mend.

Her blood was everywhere . All over me, the counter, the ground. A trail of it led to us from the terrace.

I had to just focus. But the task at hand had me reeling. The girl lay motionless, her black shirt soaked. I needed to get it off… If she woke up, she would kill me. Again.

My fingers were numb as I gripped the wet fabric and ripped it completely down the middle. The sound of the tear matched what happened to my heart as I revealed her maimed flesh. I had to be seeing doubles. There was no way the amount of bullet holes I was looking at could be the fucking truth.

My eyes roved over her slender naked torso hysterically, counting seven . Seven acts of blasphemy against her divine flesh.

Black spots swarmed in my vision, the rage and lack of power in my system enough to make me combust.

“Fucking hell,” I hissed, as thunder shook the world outside.

Focus. One bullet at a time.

Getting what I needed was a blur. I moved with supernatural speed, knowing I had no time to waste. With my fireweed salve on ice in a bowl by her head, I worked with surgical pliers. My heart thrashed inside me, vicious and demanding retribution. The most infuriating part was that she’d already dealt with that.

My Firefly, forever the fearless heroine. She’d risked her life to save some craven whore.

I’d been flying aimlessly over the city, searching for her, when a horrifying vision was injected into my mind. I’d nearly fallen from the sky when I saw it.

A mortal man had shot her and she’d reduced the vermin to ash for it, leaving me no one to destroy for this.

I would tear through the worlds and rip him from the Afterlife just to bring him back and kill him all over again. Slower this time.

Still, I couldn’t help but be thrilled that her dragon had trusted me to save her. Not that he had much choice, but I’d still take it as a small victory. I had already known that he communicated with telepathic visions because of the threats he’d projected at me during that month when she was in her tomb. Now, he had sought me out to rescue her, and I did not take the gesture lightly.

Carefully, meticulously, I slid the tool into her flesh, holding my breath as I found the bullet and latched on. Each time I did this, I thought she would wake. She didn’t. How divine, though, that I possessed these tools. Yes, meant to be. I’d used them to try and pry off my manacles, to no avail, of course. But it wasn’t for nothing. They were meant for her. I could only hope the fireweed salve would do more for her than it did for me.

Seven bullets. Two in her left shoulder. By the grace of her Goddess, none of the three in her chest had hit her heart. The two in her stomach were deep . Nausea clawed up my throat as I removed the first one.

“What did you get yourself into,” I breathed.

I stayed hyper-focused on her wounds, as if anything else could possibly matter right now.

A magnet pulled on my cheekbone, guiding my face to turn to hers.

She was awake. Staring at me.

“What are you doing?” she demanded groggily. For a brief moment, she was oblivious. Emerging into consciousness with confusion and calmness. Then she saw the blood, the tool in my hand, and the look on my face. I watched the memories flood behind her eyes right before her ethereal face split into a mask of agony. “Ahh! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It took everything I had to remain poised. “Quite the conundrum you got yourself into, Firefly.”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” she yowled like a madwoman.

I spotted the metal bowl full of ice flying toward my head a beat too late. My vision went white, blinding pain searing from the front of my skull to the back. I roared and stumbled back, gobsmacked.

Even half lucid, she was a violent little creature.

“I’m naked!” she wailed. “Naked and shot! Fuck!”

My vision cleared. My head throbbed. I should have said something or acted right away. But the image of her writhing on the counter, naked and covered in blood, had me rooted in place.

The darkest parts of me lit on fire.

Two conflicting desires warred through me. One to lose all inhibitions and claim her. The other to flee this continent and never look back.

She forced herself upright, those plump lips twisted with pain, jaw clenched. With her hand over her bare, bloody stomach, her face hardened with focus. I didn’t realize what she was doing at first. Her neck snapped back, and she screamed her pain and fury to the heavens before the last bullet popped out of her, rising from her flesh at her telekinetic demand. She flicked her wrist, and it went flying across the room. With a sigh of both despair and relief, she slumped back down, breathing hard.

I didn’t move or say a word. I just watched her.

“Did you kill her?” Her voice was quiet, morose.

It took me a second to even understand she was talking about the mortal girl. Why did she care so much for her? They had no history, no connection.

“The fate of one mortal matters not to creatures like us,” I replied evenly.

She croaked a demented laugh. “You’re a sad, sad man.”

Her crass aloofness was astounding. I scoffed and picked up the bowl she’d so rudely smashed in my face. The jar of salve had shattered, of course. I sifted through the mess of glass and ice. This kitchen had to be cursed. One violent catastrophe after the other. I found small bits of the healing ointment which had hardened and put it back in the bowl.

“My wounds aren’t healing,” she whispered, trying to hide the fact that this alarmed her.

“This will help,” I promised. “Though it would have worked better had you not thrown it like a spoiled little brat.”

“It was worth it.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Give me the salve, I’ll do it myself. You turn around!”

“Relax,” I breathed softly. I stood beside the counter, looking down on her and keeping my eyes locked with hers. I hadn’t let them wander before and I wouldn’t now. Her lovely, lithe body remained a forbidden thing in my peripheral vision.

“ Relax ? I look like the scene from Carrie ! And you’re all over me!”

Who in the seven hells was Carrie? She was delirious. Not a good sign. “I’m helping you. Now stay still and shut up.”

She sucked in a breath, attempting to disguise her exhaustion. Forever loyal to her stubbornness, she wanted to fight this. She’d never been one to accept help, least of all from me.

“This is fireweed salve, chilled to harden. It helps with pain and healing. All I have to do is put some of it over each wound and then you wait until it melts. You’ll wash it off and be good as new.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, teeth clenched. “Fucking fine. Just hurry up.”

Her words rolled through me.

I had her permission to touch her.

When my fingers brushed her skin, she gasped. Didn’t open her eyes, though. My out-of-control heart made a fool of me, but I kept my movements even. With tunnel vision focus, I applied the frozen salve to the angered tears in her soft flesh. Golden tattoos whirled under all that blood, moving hysterically to match her heartbeat. My tongue was desert dry. Her chest kept rising and falling, tempting my eyes to slide away from her wounds.

“That prick,” she hissed, eyes still closed. “He called me a witch.”

The edges of my lips curved slightly. “And that’s what you’re upset about? Not the fact that he shot you seven times?”

“Seven times!” she exclaimed.

“That’s enough talking,” I ordered, applying salve to her stomach. Goosebumps skated across her skin, the slender curves of her body wincing. She was so dainty, so feminine. One would never know she had world-ending power scorching through her veins.

She whimpered when I placed the frozen salve over the bullet holes in her chest. Her bone had been strong enough to keep them from piercing her heart, but these wounds were by far the gnarliest. I worked with obsessive gentleness. She sucked in a sharp breath on the last one, her hand shooting up involuntarily to grip my arm for dear life. My heart dropped then raced as she locked her fingers around me, whimpering and swearing through the pain.

My head spun. I would hunt down that man’s family. Hell, I’d hunt down everyone he’d ever met. I was going to paint the town red.

“There,” I murmured stiffly a few moments later. “Once it’s melted, you can go wash.” I stepped back, away from her. Why was my heart still beating so fast? Why couldn’t I see straight?

Her black eyes opened and locked on me. “It still hurts.”

“Give it time.” I clenched my fists. Control was a creature adamant on abandoning me. She’d been alone, she’d been hurt, she—

“Can I maybe have something to cover myself up with, you big creep?” Her pointed stare and brass words made me stiffen.

Without a second thought, I took off my cloak and moved back to her. She sat up expectantly. I didn’t look away from those shiny black eyes as I slid the dark cloak around her shoulders. She shivered slightly, her throat working with a heavy swallow. The lower half of her long silver hair was stained red. She worked hard to uphold her strong front, but I could see the cracks in her facade. She was tired and hurt. She was lost.

Her eyes skipped past mine for just a beat, taking a peek at my wings. She caught herself and looked away quickly, ashamed.

I reached out with one hand and tipped her chin up with my two fingers. “You transformed, too.”

She only scoffed. “Yeah? Into what, your slave?”

“No. You will be a Drakiana.”

“A what?”

“And if you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly forcing you to do anything.”

Her eyelids fluttered, long lashes casting shadows down her cheeks. She swallowed hard then groaned. “I don’t feel so good. I’m tired.”

My brows narrowed. She should have been healing faster than this.

I slid my arms under her and scooped her up abruptly, giving her no time to protest. I charged for the bedroom, heavy double doors sliding open for me promptly. I headed straight for the attached bathroom. She wasn’t squirming or fighting me, which was so beyond alarming I could have punched a hole through stone. It took everything I had to keep cool.

But there was something not right about these wounds.

My lack of power had become an entity in itself, looming over me mockingly, laughing in my ears at all I could not do.

No.

Focus .

She was breathing, talking. There was still time. I reeled in my thoughts, forcing myself into the lowest state of mind, focused solely on the here and now.

The bathroom was a blur of beige, black, and gold opulence. A giant clawfoot tub took up one whole corner, a stand-up shower framed with glass adjacent to it. I went for the latter. I pried one arm free and opened the glass door, turning the shower on full hot. Steam filled my lungs as I began unveiling the cloak from the girl who was nodding off in my arms.

“Stay awake,” I snapped coldly, fear clutching my throat like a fist.

“I am,” she growled back, trying to be fierce through the exhaustion which stormed through her. I could see it in her face. A fire being stomped out.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes. Just fuck off. I’m fine.” She writhed out of my arms and pushed me away, gripping the cloak to keep herself covered. They way her breath sounded! Like she had a rattle in her throat. She swayed on her feet, eyes shadowed but hard. “Get out, Solaris!”

Desperation had me rooted in place. “Perhaps you should rest first. You—”

“GET OUT!” Her voice shook the bathroom, objects uprooting from their places on the shelves and counter, clashing to the floor. The violent tremors rumbled with warning, her face a startling canvas of vacant rage. Like she felt nothing and everything all at once.

I backed away from her slowly, our eyes snared together. Her shoulders rose and fell while steam whirled around her.

She cocked her head to the side and shut the door on me with her kinetic power.

My chest morphed into a bag of wet sand. I sank to my knees with a shaky breath.

The pain . Hers, mine, the world’s.

I let it back in now.

Her condition only worsened.

I paced back and forth, checking on her every few minutes. She was in my bed . The girl I knew would never voluntarily sleep in my chambers. She would spit in my face and call me a list of colorful names if I even suggested it. When she’d stumbled out of the shower in nothing but a white towel, ignored my existence and beelined it for the bed, I hadn’t believed my eyes. She had passed out instantly.

The sun was long gone now, the moon casting a silver light on her through the window. She was all curled up like a little woodland creature, clutching the silk blanket I’d put on her over half her face. Burrowed. Trying to feel safe?

Caw!

I rolled my eyes, disdain swelling in my chest as I begrudgingly left the bedroom and went to meet my familiar.

Morpheus transcended the glass door and flew toward me to land on my shoulder. I shook my head and pointed to his perch above the fireplace. He made a rude sound but obeyed.

“Where in the seven hells have you been! Do you have any idea what has occurred in your absence?” I gestured sharply to the mess of blood and glass in the kitchen.

My lord! I was searching for the Groundshaker, as you asked!

“I TOLD YOU TO WATCH MY FIREFLY.”

The bird winced. She shooed me away! Threatened to burn off my tail feathers!

My lips pulled back into a furious snarl. “She saw you! Oh, that’s rich! What has become of you, Morpheus? Being spotted ? And not contacting me? I haven’t been able to access our telepathy for hours. Tell me this instant where you have been.”

For a moment, my familiar said nothing. He shrunk down, feathers ruffled in shame.

“Morpheus. Speak.”

I was in-between realms, my lord .

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. A bucket of shame from the mocking heavens dumped all over me.

You ordered me to watch the girl until I deemed her safe. Then I was to search for the Groundshaker who is cloaked by a thousand spells! I thought if I flew through the shadows, I would find him easier. For you. Forgive me .

I couldn’t reach my own familiar because he was in the shadows. Shadows that were no longer mine. The hole inside me expanded.

I straightened, flexing my wings. “The girl was shot several times by a mortal on the very roof I had instructed you to keep watch.”

He made a sad, throaty sound.

“She’s resting now. But the slowness of her healing is jarring.”

Slow healing? Morpheus’s tone was curved with incredulity. Surely bullet wounds should be nothing to a creature like her.

“I thought so, too,” I whispered, my eyes going unfocused. “But…”

A fit of coughs from the bedroom stole me from my train of thought. I rushed toward the open stone doors, finding her sitting on the edge of the bed. She barked thick, wet coughs, blood spraying onto her fist as she covered her mouth.

My lower half turned to water.

Her eyes found mine. The fear shining in them made everything cold.

“Something’s wrong,” she choked in between coughs.

I shot at her with supernatural speed. I didn’t ask for permission when I peeled back the blanket she had wrapped around her small body. Again, she didn’t fight me off.

I didn’t mean to gasp. The sight cleaved me in two.

Her wounds were not healing. They had gone black and putrefied.

I tried to keep my face even as I scooped her up and brought her out into the suite. She kept coughing. Her body was limp. Every cell of my being came alive with electric alarm. This couldn’t be fucking happening.

“Morpheus,” I called as I stalked to the sitting area. “Her wounds.”

My familiar landed on the back of the sofa as I placed her down onto it. We examined her in complete silence.

My heart thudded slowly.

Nyx coughed, blood staining her lips.

The bullet she had tossed across the room lay beside the fireplace. I snatched it up, examining it under the iron weight of fear pressing on my chest. Under the blood there was a tar-black residue coating the metal.

“Is this what I think it is?” My voice was hardly audible.

I am afraid so.

“No.” I closed my fingers over the dark object in my hand, crushing it into dust. My chest heaved and the world around me swam with raging darkness. Shadows hissed and came alive, crying out when they couldn’t touch me.

This would kill her. I couldn’t heal her.

I was useless. Utterly useless.

Desperation raged through my veins. “The Groundshaker. Did you find him?”

My grievance, I did not. Perhaps the girl could go back to her coven. They will heal her, won’t they, my lord?

No. No, no, no. This was all wrong.

I should have been able to heal her. My breath should have chased away the death spreading through her veins.

I was the dark phoenix. The defier of death. No power formed against me should prosper.

But it did.

My sight shifted into a dark, intelligible blur. Rage and shadows and memories howled in my mind. I had been powerless before. Chained and collared like a fucking dog, forbidden from using my magic unless I was wielding it at the command of my puppet masters.

It was happening again.

The roar from my chest shattered glass and splintered iron. In response, pain attacked me like a hailstorm of flaming arrows. But I didn’t submit. I bellowed my rage against this world and the next, forcing reality to bend to my will. Thunder and lightning warred outside. Distant shores crashed under the weight of my pure, blinding fury

My knees hit the ground, and the entire city went black.

Incessant shrieking summoned me awake. My raven was crowing like a maniac, hopping up and down my chest.

Nyx was unconscious. Unresponsive.

Before I could descend into a panic so mad, that the entire planet would tremble and split in two, a vision popped into my mind. Morpheus shared with me what my Firefly had shared with him. I didn’t have time to marvel over the fact that she could connect telepathically with my familiar. Once I was shown the house nestled into the rocks by the beach, I scooped her up and shot into the sky.

We flew over the dark city. There wasn’t a single light left alive below us, but I would not let the light of my firefly go out.

She had brought me out of the shadows and I’d be damned if I let them take her from me.