Flameout Read Free Page A

either.
    â€œThere is a point to
everything
I do,” he replied. “And you had better remember that.”
    I snorted. “Yeah, okay. If you say so.”
    He made a low sound that was an odd mix of a growl and a curse. “Perhaps a small demonstration—”
    â€œOh, don’t feel obliged,” I said. “Because we both know it will seriously hamper your domination plans if you lost any more of your soldiers right now.”
    â€œOh, I have no intention of losing soldiers.” His tone once again held an edge of smugness, and the flames flickering across my fingertips flared brighter. “After all, we both know that if you’re incapable of making fire, you’re of very little threat.”
    And with that, an unnatural force began to unfold around me. It was a wash of energy that stung my skin and had the hairs at the back of my neck standing on end.
    Because it wasn’t
just
energy—it was magic. The type of magic that could restrict a phoenix’s fire.
    And not only would it curtail my ability to create fire, but it would also hamper my access to the earthmother, and the mother was the only force capable of utter and instant annihilation of the cloaks—or anyone else I decided to direct her against, for that matter. She was the heat of the earth, the energy that gave life to the world around us, a power that was dangerous and deadly to even those of us who could call her into being. But the risk was often worth it, especially in a case like this. My own flames, while they burned the cloaks, took longer—and that was never a good thing when fighting against greater numbers.
    And I had no doubt that, despite his words, Luke would throw more than a few red cloaks at us. He’d always favored having the odds on his side.
    I reached for my fire form, but even as I changed from flesh to spirit, the magic tore at my skin, trying to restrain me, to stop me.
    It failed.
    I surged up, away from the ground and the net seeking to encase me. Threads of energy briefly chased me then snapped away. I paused and turned, but didn’t relax. The magic was still active, even if it couldn’t get me right now. What I needed to do was find the source of the damn spell and deactivate the stupid thing.
    My gaze swept the ground, but I didn’t immediately see anything odd or out of place. I moved out of the floodlit area, my flames casting an orange glow across the ground.
    That’s when I saw them. Four stones, each gleaming a soft, almost blue-black in the darkness. Spell stones—stones that provided both a base for the magic to latch onto and a means to restrict and control the size of the spell. While the use of stones was commonamong witches, the color of these suggested the creator of the spell walked a darker path with his magic. White witches drew on the energy of the world around them in conjunction with the strength that came from within, and the stones they used tended to reflect the purity of that. Those who used black magic—or blood magic, as it was more commonly known these days—often didn’t need them, but when they did, their darkness was reflected in the stone’s surface.
    A twig snapped in the trees behind me. I spun, my flames surging in response. But it wasn’t Luke or the cloaks, as I’d half feared. It was Sam.
    â€œLuke isn’t here,” he said, his voice vibrating with fury. “He was using a fucking speaker.”
    He threw some wiring on the ground, then stopped abruptly as he spotted me. “Emberly? What the
fuck
is going on?”
    It was pointless answering, given only another phoenix could actually understand me when I was in my fire form. Instead, I spun and surged toward the nearest stone. I had no idea how the spell was constructed, but I knew it could usually be undone if one of the stones was dislodged.
    But even as I moved, figures erupted from the trees behind me. They were twisted, ugly beings