Phoenix Rising (13 page)

Zing! And she scores again.
Heaving a sigh, Artemis kissed her on the cheek and slipped away, wondering how much truth was in the last thing she’d said to him.

S
ITTING
in the back of a cab, he texted Rachel:
On my way to Bruno’s.
Meet you there
, she sent back.
Bruno’s was their precinct’s favorite watering hole and, at this time of day, sparsely populated. A couple of diehardsnot copssat at the bar with beers, lazily chewing on stale pretzels. The music was off, for which Artemis was thankful.
It felt odd, being back in the city after his weeks with Talis. It was almost claustrophobic, the way the buildings towered over him. He threw a twenty to the driver and got out. It was early afternoon, but down here in the stone canyons, shadows darkened everything to shades of blue and made it seem closer to evening.
Rachel was waiting for him in a corner booth. He slid into the seat opposite, giving her a smile. “Long time, no see.”
She made a face. “Jesus, you have a tan. How the hell did you get a tan?” Without further ado, she half rose and reached over the table to hug him. He tilted his head back to kiss her on the cheek.
“Missed me, huh?”
After regaining her seat, she said, “Tell me everything, and don’t leave out any of the tawdry details.”
So he did, and while he talked, they ordered drinks and lunch for Rachel, and when it came, she ate and Artemis kept talking. When he got to the part where he watched Talis fuck Trey, he blithely skipped over his own orgasm, concentrating on what he’d seen happen between the two men.
“There was an exchange of energy, a swirl of color from them both that comingled, combined, and then flowed into Talis’s body. It was the single most gorgeous, awe-inspiring thing I’ve ever seen… except afterward, Trey was dead.”
Rachel licked her lips, eyes wide. “But he didn’t kill him. He asked and then received. Do I have that right?”
Artemis popped one of her fries into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Yeah. That’s essentially it.” It all seemed like a dream now, some parts vivid and drenched in color while other parts slipped through his mental processes like water through a sieve.
“You realize this sounds like complete bullshit.” She ate the last bite of her burger and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I realize. Think I’ll have trouble convincing the task force to back off Talis?”
“I think when you try to explain he’s an actual phoenix, and the only one in existence, they’re going to have you committed.”
“I figured as much.” Huffing out a sigh, he slouched, elbow on the table, and rested his head on the heel of his hand. “I feel… protective of him. How’s that for insane?”
Squinting at him, she leaned closer, searching his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re in love.”
He didn’t deny it.
Swinging sideways, she slid back against the wall and stretched one long leg across the seat. “If he’s as powerful as you’ve led me to believe, he can take care of himself.”
“He can, but it’d be easier to do his job if Interpol wasn’t trying to chase him down.”
Rachel raised her hand to the bartender, who nodded and sent her over a second beer. “This job is turning me into an alcoholic, ya know that?”
Artemis ignored that; Rachel hardly drank at all, which was rare for a cop. The fact that she was doing it now, while on duty, indicated how troubled she was over what had happened to him. “When I was with Talis, I felt… influenced.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“The phoenix puts out this scent that sort of clouds the mind, makes you happy, like there’s nothing but good in the world. Talis emits something altogether different. Remember when you interviewed him at the Waldorf?”
“Distinctly. What I felt was more akin to lust than quiet joy.”
“
That
effect is peculiar to Talis. The Phoenix, well, he’s much more ‘monastery gardens’, if you know what I mean. Between them both, I needed to get away in order to know what I really felt about everything. About him.” He drank his beer. “I’ve been back, what, three hours? Four? Shit, all I can think about is being with him again.”
She smiled. “I’m happy for you, even though it means I’m losing a partner and gaining… Christ
knows
what I’ll be getting. Some green-behind-the-ears rookie who’ll insist on drooling all over me, I suppose. Thanks a lot, Artemis.”
He shrugged. “Maybe he’ll be gay. Maybe it’ll be a woman. I have every confidence you will put whoever it is in their place in the first thirty seconds, and thereafter, they’ll forever be your slave.”
“From your mouth to, well, you know. I think I’m starting to get a little looped. Shall I go for number three?”
“Why not?” Artemis decided on a second beer and considered his options. “I think… a little show and tell might be in order. Is Blackstone still around?”
“She went back to England the day you vanished. Why?
“Set up a task force meeting while I make a call, and let’s see if we can get Liz on speakerphone.”

A
T THE
precinct, Rachel continued to Numbnuts’s office while Artemis went straight to Sherlock Jones’s lab, where the tech was sitting on his usual stool, one eye locked to the microscope. He wore his usual skinny jeans and striped shirt under the ubiquitous white lab coat.

“Sherlock, I need the feather from Donny Carlson’s crime scene.”
Jones sat up and gave him a look as he put on his black-rimmed glasses. “Aren’t you being held hostage somewhere?”
“Does it
look
like I’m being held hostage?” He glanced around the cluttered lab. “Feather?”
Sherlock went to his files, pawed around, and returned with a plastic bag. Handing it to Artemis, he said, “What are you going to do with it?”
“Prove a point. Coming to the meeting?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
In the conference room, twenty people awaited him with varying degrees of impatience. Numbnuts scowled as Artemis walked past him to the whiteboard. Rachel, in the front row, grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. She looked only the slightest bit intoxicated. Doc Nolan sat calmly on the aisle, legs crossed, no doubt wondering why he’d been invited. Sherlock grabbed a seat next to Rachel. The others present were detectives and beat cops.
Artemis smiled. “Nice to be back.” His eyes met Rachel’s. “Is Liz Blackstone present?”
“Yes, via Skype.”
Artemis glanced toward the computer monitor and saw it had been turned to face the room. Liz looked pleasantly ordinary, as before. “Ms. Blackstone, welcome. Can you hear me okay?”
“I can. Please continue, Detective Gregory.”
Numbnuts spoke up. “This is irregular as hell. You haven’t been debriefed yet.”
An unexpected but welcome calm flowed through him. “I’ll fill out any paperwork you like after the meeting. This is more important.” The surprised look on the lieutenant’s face made Artemis almost reckless. He held up the baggie and addressed everyone. “This is the feather found in Donny Carlson’s bedroom. Sherlock, will you remind everyone of the results of your tests?”
His voice was flat. “Doesn’t belong to any genus of bird on record.”
Someone in the back of the room said, “We’ve heard this already.”
Artemis lifted an eyebrow. “This feather”—he waved the bag—“belongs to a phoenix.”
A long silence met his remark, and then Sherlock said, “What?”
Artemis paced, trying to decide how best to relay this information without making himself appear to be ready for Bellevue. “This feather belongs to a being who calls himself a phoenix. Most of you will recall from your childhood a mythical creature, born of fire.” He stopped walking, and his gaze swept the room. “Before you decide I need a straitjacket, listen! I was gone for how long? A few weeks, right?” He held the bag higher. “This feather came from the phoenix.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a red-and-gold feather. He held it next to the baggie. “I took this from the phoenix. Sherlock?” Artemis handed it over. “Please… run tests. Now.”
Sherlock took the new feather, eyes round, and scurried to his lab.
Silence reverberated in the room. Artemis smiled, remembering how Talis had handed him the feather the last time they were together, in Belize.
“Take it. Maybe it will help.” They were on the beach, watching the sun set.
Artemis put it in his pocket and then took Talis’s hand in his own, their fingers interlaced. The sky flamed red and gold as the sun sank into the ocean.
Rachel brought him back. “What else, Artemis?”
“Talis Kehk did not kill those men.” He drew in a breath. “It sounds insane, but they offered to die for him.” He turned to Nolan. “Cause of death: unknown. You wrote it on the file of every victim attributed to the killer. Isn’t that correct?”
The ME nodded slowly. “Their hearts stopped. That’s how I read it.”
Artemis nodded. “They offered themselvestheir essence, their souland
that
he took. He did not commit murder.”
Numbnuts scoffed. “You are so full of shit. How can you prove such a thing?”
“Can you prove he killed? Reasonable doubt, remember? I think a good lawyer could get him off, especially after they see the transformation.” Artemis activated his cell and pressed a thumb against Call. He didn’t keep the connection open; the second it went through, he put the phone away, looking at the door expectantly.
Talis walked in, his eyes instantly going to Artemis at the front of the room. He wore immaculate white jeans and a T-shirt that fit him like a second skin, and in one hand he carried more clothing.
Artemis’s heartbeat quickened. Although he’d left Talis only early this morning, it felt like a lifetime since he’d seen him.
Okay, I’m fucked. A goner. I’m in love like I’ve never been in love before, and I’ll do anything to stay with him, even if it means I never do anything worthwhile again.
Every cop in the room recognized their suspect; hands immediately darted to guns as they went on high alert. A couple leaped to their feet, weapons drawn.
Artemis raised his voice as he gestured to Talis to wait. “He’s here at my request. Please! Take your seats.” When he judged he’d regained control of the situation, he waved Talis forward.
Smiling, Talis moved to stand beside him, whispering softly enough that only Artemis could hear, “The headwinds were a bitch over Pennsylvania.”
Chuckling, Artemis turned to address the room. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Hell, if one of you was up here in my place, saying the shit I just said, I’d think you were loony, too. So I invited Talis here to allow you to meet Phoenix.” Artemis took the clothing from Talis; he would need it when he transformed back into his human self. “Whenever you’re ready.”
At that moment, Sherlock Jones raced back into the room, skidding to a stop just inside the door. “It’s a match. The feather from Donny Carlson’s apartment and the one you gave me match. They’re from the same unidentified bird genus.”
Artemis nodded. “Thanks, Sherlock. Take a seat.”
Numbnuts looked like he was about to explode. “That only proves they came from the same source. It doesn’t identify what that source is.”
“We’re about to make that connection, sir.” Artemis rarely addressed Numbnuts so politely, and the lieutenant responded by closing his mouth with a snap and folding his arms across his chest. The “show me” attitude was obvious.
Artemis took a step away from Talis, even as he ached to touch him. “Do it.”
Talis slowly looked the room over, meeting the eyes of most of the people there, smiling when he saw Rachel. “Nice to see you again.”
Rachel blushed becomingly. “Same here.”
Numbnuts rolled his eyes. “Can we get on with this?” Glaring at Talis, he added, “There are murderers to catch.”
Unaffected by the lieutenant’s surly demeanor, Talis spoke to the room. “This can be shocking to some. Stay calm, remain in your seats. The phoenix will not harm you. His purpose is to heal, not hurt.”
Artemis had seen it before, but still, it was impressive enough to take his breath away. It happened fast, feathers sprouting along arms that became wings, legs turning into appendages with claws. The hardest part to watch was when the beautiful human face turned into a bird visage, complete with beak and piercing eyes. That particular transformation underscored how alien the phoenix was.
Gasps sounded in the room, and Artemis heard “What the bloody hell!” from the computer speakers as Blackstone weighed in. Rachel’s mouth dropped open; she’d seen the transformation in Central Park during the concert but, like everyone, had assumed it was a stage trick. Numbnuts looked like he might have shit his pants. He scrambled out of the front row and backed away, never taking his eyes off Phoenix.
Guns were drawn again as several cops called, “Freeze!” and pointed them at the bird. Artemis wanted to laugh. Telling a giant bird to freeze? But in the same instant, he realized they felt threatened, out of their element, and offkilter cops were dangerous. Immediately, he moved to stand in front of Phoenix, arms slightly outstretched.
Several things happened at once. Artemis became aware of Phoenix’s light, reassuring scent as it enfolded him. Numbnuts backed into a cop holding a chambered gun, jostling him. The gun fired, and Artemis felt an explosion of pain in his stomach.
Rachel’s scream of outrage echoing in his ears, he dropped to the floor and passed out.

P
HOENIX
felt Artemis’s pain as if it were his own. Opening his beak, he shrieked in anger. The cry echoed, bouncing off the walls. Spreading his massive wings, he lambasted the air with them. The wind they created blew pens off a desk and caused papers on the bulletin board to flutter.

Not even questioning being given orders by a bird, she nodded, stood, and waved her hands for attention. “Guys! Chill!”

While she continued to talk, Phoenix crouched over Artemis, who was bleeding heavily onto the floor. Heart twisting in his feathered chest, he curled his wings around Artemis, sheltering him. No one else existed. He might as well have been alone with the detective. “You shall not die. You will not!”

His tears flowed like silver rain, falling on Artemis’s body, running in rivulets along every curve, and flowing into the gaping wound in his gut. Phoenix had never felt such sadness, or so much compassion.
You will live, you will live, you will live….
The mantra repeated itself over and over, until it became a jumble of meaningless sound.