There’s a bad feeling twisting my gut, but I don’t know what’s provoking it. I try to ignore it and focus on my work. I returned to my lab as soon as Samantha went out on her exhibition and I haven’t left it all day. Sleep seems impossible right now, because if I let my mind wander in the slightest, I instantly begin to worry about Samantha.
I wish she hadn’t gone out alone. I know she’s done it before, but she really shouldn’t have. I’m kicking myself because I should’ve gone with her, both this time and the previous time. Of course, I was being an ass the first time and hiding away in my lab, so she likely didn’t even have the chance to ask me because she never saw me.
I tell myself, though, that she’s a grown woman, and I have no hold over her to try and tell her what she can and cannot do. Still, I just can’t help my worry.
That bad feeling in my gut is still there and seems to be growing stronger and stronger with each passing moment. No matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore. It’s like this sensation of impending doom that’s pressing down on me harder and harder until it’s almost suffocating.
With a start, I realize what it is. It’s the bond. The bond is trying to warn me about something. I give in and allow myself to feel exactly what the bond is trying to tell me. I’m overwhelmed by feelings of danger.
Samantha is in danger.
I don’t know what kind of danger and I don’t know where she is exactly, but all I know is that the bond is demanding that I go and rescue her. Every protective instinct I possess is screaming to life. I stop fighting my instincts, abandon my work and rush out of my lab. Hurrying through the facility, I get to the storage area where the outdoor equipment is kept and quickly grab a suit, boots, goggles, and gloves. I quickly throw everything on and rush to the main door of the facility, yanking it open and stepping out into the sharp cold air. The sun is starting to set, which means the temperature is going to drop severely. Even bundled as she’d been when she’d left, there’s no way that Samantha will survive a night out in this wilderness if she’s stranded somewhere.
Running to the shed where the snowmobiles and other winter vehicles are stored, I climb onto one and start it up, gunning the engine in my hurry. One snowmobile is missing, no doubt the one that Samantha had taken herself when she’d first gone out. I have a rough idea of where she went, since she’d told me the area that her birds were nested. Thankfully, it’s really not far from the facility, and I find the area within fifteen minutes or so.
Bringing the snowmobile to a stop, I hop off and quickly look around as I begin sprinting toward the flock of strange-looking, reptilian-like birds. They squawk at me in agitation as I wander among them, but I ignore their furious gazes and flapping wings. My head is on a swivel as I search for Samantha. I spot her snowmobile on the edge of the flock and some of her equipment, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
“Samantha?” I shout, startling the birds further. “Samantha, where are you?”
The damn birds won’t shut-up and I’m afraid she won’t be able to hear me, or I won’t be able to hear her if she responds. I walk a little further, shouting her name several more times, growing more panicked with every second that passes.
Finally, I hear a soft call of, “Help!”
I freeze, spinning around and shouting, “Samantha! Where are you? Talk to me!”
“Help!” she cries again, louder this time, but I can hear the strain in her voice. I still can’t see her, so my panic is in no way subsiding.
“Samantha, I need you to tell me where you are,” I instruct her. “I can’t see you.”
“Ravine,” I hear her say. “I’m trapped.”
Frowning, I carefully follow her voice and come upon the slippery edge of a shallow ravine. I peer down into it and spot Samantha sprawled out at the bottom in the snow.
“Samantha!” I shout down at her.
She peers up at me and relief crosses her face, but she also looks exhausted. It’s as if she’s just been holding out for someone to find her, and now that I’m here, her strength drained from her and she falls unconscious right before my eyes. Shit, that’s not good. I don’t know if she’s hurt or the cold has sapped her energy, but either way, I need to get her out of there and back to the facility.
I look up and down the ravine, trying to find a way down there to her. There’s no easy way to do it that I can see, and if I manage to get down there, I’m not sure that I could get back out while carrying her. I grit my teeth as I realize there’s really only one way I can rescue her. Instinctively, I look around, but then quickly remember that there’s no one else around to see what I do next.
Taking a deep breath, I summon my fire from within me. My body begins to shift and change, my physical form changing as I become a full phoenix. Much of the time we don’t fully shift but maintain a partial human form but since I’m trying to keep my secret from Samantha, suddenly appearing with wings would be a dead giveaway. The other birds fall silent as they recognize the creature that has suddenly appeared among them. Once the transformation is complete, I spread my wings and drop off the edge of the ravine. I swoop down to the bottom and land next to Samantha. Lowering my head, I press it to her cheek and am startled by how cold she is.
Dangerously cold.
I realize I need to warm her up before I try to move her. She’s on the verge of freezing to death if I don’t do something. Covering her with my wings, I focus my warmth to filter through my feathers and surround her. My body pulses as I push my energy out and into her. The wind’s bite grows a little sharper as I part with some of my warmth, leaving me more vulnerable to the elements. I’m not in any danger, though, so long as I don’t give too much of my heat to her.
Suddenly, her eyelids flutter and then open. She stares up at me and I stare back as I fight every instinct in me telling me to change back before she realizes what’s going on. If I do that, though, she’ll freeze and we’ll never get out of this ravine. So, I just keep looking at her as my wings pump heat over her body. A second later, her eyes widen as realization seems to finally hit her.
“Wait…wait, what is this? What are you?” she murmurs, her tone growing frantic as she attempts to sit up once she realizes a giant bird is hovering over her. “You’re not…this isn’t possible....”
“It’ll be okay, Samantha,” I say without thinking, just trying to calm her down. How could I be such an idiot?!! Instead of reassuring her and calming her down, my words only seem to freak her out further. Which, of course they do. She’s staring up into the face of a huge bird and it’s talking to her in English. It would be weird if she wasn’t freaking out; no doubt the shock settling into her system is tamping down her reaction a bit.
“What the hell?” she yelps. “Aleixo? Is that you?”
Reluctantly, I nod. “It is. I promise I’ll explain everything later, but for now I need to get you to…”
“You’re a phoenix!” Her voice is rising as she fully digests what’s going on. “That’s what you are, isn’t it?”
Now a strange excitement has filtered into her gaze that makes me frown, but I tell myself I can’t worry about that right now. The sun is hanging low in the sky, and I’m not sure I could even survive a night out here. Not even in my phoenix form.
“You shift between forms?” she asks, her voice fast and words rambling. “No, that’s a stupid question. Of course you shift between forms. You were human earlier when I left you, or do you think of yourself as human? What do you refer to yourself as? Human? Phoenix? Shifter? Are any of those terms derogatory to you?”
She’s starting to babble, making less and less sense with each second that passes, and I let out a huff of frustration.
“I told you I’d tell you everything once we’re safe.” I snap my beak at her. “Now shut up and let me help you get out of here. Can you stand?”
She instantly clamps up, but I’m not sure it’s because of my sharp rebuke. Slowly, she shakes her head.
“Uh…no. I can’t stand up.”
“Broken leg?”
“In a manner of speaking. My prosthetic is damaged and can’t hold my weight.”
Damn it. I’d considered the possibility that she could be hurt, but the reality makes things a lot more difficult. She can’t walk, which means I not only have to lift her out of here, but carry her all the way back to the base. She’s small and so shouldn’t pose a problem weight-wise, even with the extra pounds of equipment she’s wearing. Landing will probably be our biggest obstacle, as I’ll have to do so in a way that doesn’t jar her leg. I also don’t have anything to set it with, so it’s going to dangle beneath her and probably hurt her.
The bond protests at the thought of bringing her pain, but I quickly silence it. Temporary pain is a small price to pay to keep her from freezing to death.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” I tell her.
“How?” she asks, appearing baffled. “Can you carry my weight?”
I nearly roll my eyes at her. “Of course I can, but it won’t be a comfortable ride.”
Before she can ask me any other questions, I lift my wings away from her. She begins to shiver immediately, and I know we’re on borrowed time. I quickly move behind her and lift one of my feet to carefully latch my talons into the shoulder of her coat. With a flap of my wings, I lift into the air and grab her other shoulder as well.
“Woah,” she protests, jerking in my grip.
“Hold still,” I order her. “I don’t want to drop you.”
She instantly freezes and I pump my wings to take us higher into the air. Samantha lets out a startled gasp as we rise higher and higher, but she holds perfectly still, much to my relief.
Soon, we’ve risen above the ravine and I begin to head toward the base, leaving the snowmobiles and everything else behind. I’ll return tomorrow to collect everything.
Samantha is stiff as a board, which is good, because my hold on her is somewhat precarious. I can almost feel the threads of her snowsuit protesting against my grip and I’m afraid they’re going to snap at any moment. I move my wings faster, determined to reach the base before I end up dropping her.
Thankfully, flying to the facility is much faster than snowmobiling, and we arrive within just a few minutes. Very carefully, I lower us down and let Samantha put weight on her good leg before easing her to the ground in front of the door. Her whole body suddenly goes lax and she lets out a gasp, as if she’s been holding her breath the whole time we were in flight.
“Oh, my God, that was terrifying and amazing all at once,” she declares, staring up at the sky as she sits in the snow. “Am I dead? Is this all some weird frozen brain hallucination or something? This can’t be real.”
“It’s real,” I assure her before I shift back. There’s a lot I can do in phoenix form but unfortunately opening the door to the facility isn’t one of them. She lets out a startled cry and instinctively jerks back away from me. I’d normally be insulted that my human form received this kind of reaction, but she’s been through a lot today, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Oh, sorry,” she murmurs when she realizes what she’s done.
I shrug and move to pick her up in my arms. “It’s fine. Let’s get you inside and get that leg looked at…”
“Hold on,” she shrieks, jerking away from me again.
I frown and narrow my eyes at her. “What is it?”
She stares up at me and I can see a million emotions rushing through her eyes, even through the lens of her goggles.
“I just…sorry,” she says again. “It’s just…I’m not sure what to think right now. This is…it’s a lot to take in…”
I nod. “I get that, but can we talk about this inside? After going to all that trouble to rescue you, I’d hate for you to freeze outside the front door.”
She glances between me and the door and then slowly nods. “Y…yes. Okay. You’re right.”
I bend down and slip my arms around her before picking her up. The urge to cradle her tight to my chest hits me like a face-slap, but I force myself to remain clinical and refrained as I walk to the door and carry her over the threshold. She doesn’t say a word to me as I make my way through the facility toward the small medical room adjacent from the dorm area. Once inside, I set her on the metal exam table and begin helping her strip out of her snowsuit. I’m careful not to make skin-to-skin contact, but thankfully the bond is more concerned about me caring for and protecting her than mating with her right now.
When the snowsuit is a pile on the floor, I reach for her pant-leg, ready to assess the damage.
“Stop,” she suddenly snaps, her tone agitated.
I glance up and meet her wild gaze. “What’s the matter?”
She opens and closes her mouth as she struggles to come up with a response, and she reminds me of a gasping fish.
“I…I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room first,” she insists.
I straighten from where I was bending over her leg and cross my arms over my chest.
“You mean the fact that I’m a phoenix?”
Her eyes go round, as if she’s surprised by my candidness.
“Umm…well, yes,” she said, somewhat bashfully. Then, more forcefully, “That seems like something that I’d have picked up on living so freaking close to you.”
I shrug. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ve gotten really good over the years at hiding myself from humans.”
Samantha furrowed her brow. “When you say years…?”
“I mean centuries,” I answer, picking up on her question even as she trails off.
“Holy shit,” she gasped, and I think I might have just blown her mind again.
I finally manage to get her to stop babbling long enough to remove her pants so I can look back down at her prosthetic and inspect it carefully. It doesn’t take me long to spot a large crack compromising the knee joint. I point to it.
“I’m guessing that’s the problem?” I ask.
She nods. “Yep. Can’t put any weight on it. That’s why I couldn’t stand up in the ravine.”
“I see,” I say. “Unfortunately, I’m not certain how to repair this. A broken leg I can handle, but…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Samantha tells me with a sigh. “I have another one that I brought just in case something like this happened.”
“Very prepared, aren’t you?” I tease.
That earns me a full grin at last. “Just like a Boy Scout. My leg is in my room…would you mind…?”
“Of course,” I quickly say. I sidle up next to her and offer her my shoulder. She slings her arm around me and I help her get off the table. When I offer to carry her, she declines and instead puts her weight into me and I help her hobble out of the infirmary and toward the dorms. When we reach her room, I assist her to her bed and set her down. She directs me to the small closet in the corner and I find a long black case inside that I pull out. I take it to her and set it next to her on the mattress.
I stand back and watch as she opens the case and pulls out another prosthetic. It’s not as elaborate looking as her other one. It’s almost like a spare tire – smaller and only meant for temporary use. She removes her broken prosthetic and carefully sets it next to the case. Then, she takes her spare leg and begins to attach it to the hardware implanted into her thigh.
Her eyes suddenly narrow and her jaw tightens. “Okay, you’ve had your turn, now it’s mine. You need to tell me more about this whole phoenix thing. You haven’t answered hardly any of my questions and I believe I’ve been more than patient.”
I release a slow breath. Dang. I’d hoped that I’d be able to avoid this conversation for just a little while longer. Just until I could sort through exactly what I can and cannot tell her. I know I can’t tell her about the mating bond, of the fact that we are bonded ourselves. She wouldn’t trust anything I had to say if she found out that we were linked like that by some invisible force that neither of us can control.
I need to give her something, though. I know what it is I can’t say to her, but now I have to figure out what exactly I can say.
“Alright,” I sigh. “What do you want to know?”
She appears contemplative for a moment, as if sorting through all the questions she has.
At length, she asks, “How is it that you’ve been alive for so long?”
I’m a little surprised that that’s her first question, but I suppose it’s one I can answer without fear of any real consequence.
“Phoenixes have regenerative abilities, just like the myths say,” I explain. “They keep my body from aging or decaying with old age. We’re not exactly immortal but close.”
Her brows shoot up. “Wow. That’s…amazing.”
I manage not to scowl. “It’s not as amazing as you think it is. A bit overrated, truthfully.”
She studies me for several long moments before asking her next question.
“Are you lonely?”
I stiffen, my cheeks heating with embarrassment at how quickly she’s able to pinpoint my greatest vulnerability, but I’m not about to let her know that.
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You get used to it.”
From the way she’s studying me, I know she doesn’t believe me.
“What else?” I quickly ask, deciding it’s best to push her away from this topic.
She blinks. “Oh, well, I guess I have a few more questions…”
We spend the next hour going back and forth with her bouncing questions at me and me doing my best to answer them without giving away too many of my kinds’ secrets. It’s not that I don’t trust Samantha, necessarily, but I’m so used to guarding this part of myself from humans that it feels unnatural to be revealing anything to her.
At length, the toll of the day seems to finally set in on her. Her eyelids begin to droop and flutter as she fights to stay awake, and her questions star to trail off into large yawns.
“Samantha, I think you should rest,” I tell her. “We can continue this conversation later.”
For a moment, I think she might protest, but to my relief, she slowly nods.
“You might be right…I am feeling really tired all of the sudden. It might be best for me to get some sleep.”
I try not to let my relief seem too obvious, but I have to admit, I’m pretty drained from all her questions, as well as the craziness of the day.
Giving her a nod, I say, “Alright, I’ll leave you alone for now. If you need anything, though, just call. I’ll stay close.”
The smile she gives me is so tender it makes my heart ache.
“Thank you, Dr. Pyrrhos. For everything. Saving me, and…and opening up to me.”
I hesitate before softly replying, “Call me Aleixo.”
Before she can say another word, I turn and hurry out the door.