Chapter 1

Chapter

One

PHOENIX

S tanding on the small balcony off her bedroom in her family's Garden District home in New Orleans, Phoenix's eyes flickered to the shadows outside. She couldn't help but feel it—something was coming. Something dark. Something unstoppable. And she was running out of time.

In the distance, thunder rumbled. And in the heart of the city, inside her, the magic stirred.

The hunt had begun.

T he New Orleans night pulsed with an energy most couldn't feel. Phoenix felt it, though—a dissonant hum beneath the drone of traffic and the distant wail of sirens. She perched on the edge of a gargoyle, forty stories up, her leather jacket snapping in the wind. Below, the city sprawled like a glittering circuit board, oblivious to the predator in its midst.

Her senses were hyperalert. It was as if she could feel the elemental energy of the city creeping along her flesh and seeping into her bones—never a good sign.

Phoenix rolled her shoulders, gritting her teeth. "I know," she whispered to the wind. "I feel it, too."

The wrongness grew stronger. Somewhere in the tangle of streets and alleys below, something that didn't belong in this world was making its move.

Phoenix's eyes, unnaturally green even for a faery, scanned the city below. There—three blocks east. A flicker of sickly yellow light pulsed from an alleyway. If she squinted, she could almost see the miasma of corruption spreading from that spot, invisible to human eyes but clear as day to her heightened senses.

"Showtime," she muttered, a grim smile tugging at her lips.

Without hesitation, Phoenix stepped off the gargoyle's head. For a heartbeat, she plummeted, the wind screaming past her ears. Then, without conscious direction, her wings sprang to life, unfurling as they did so to beat silently against the night sky.

Phoenix flew through the concrete canyons, exhilaration surging through her veins.

This was what she lived for. The hunt. The chance to keep the darkness at bay for one more night.

She landed in a crouch at the alley's mouth, the asphalt cracking beneath her feet. The stench of brimstone and rotting meat assaulted her nostrils. Phoenix's lip curled in disgust.

The thick, humid air of New Orleans clung to Phoenix's skin like a second layer as she moved silently through the narrow streets. It was well past midnight, the time when the city's heartbeats slowed, but the darkness? The darkness never truly slept. Especially not in the Crescent City, where the shadows whispered of danger and magic alike.

Her boots clicked against the uneven cobblestones, the weight of her weapons a comforting presence against her thighs. The twin knives sheathed at her hips hummed with an energy that only she could feel—a magic older than the city itself, passed down through her family line. Tonight, that magic would be tested.

Something wasn't right.

Phoenix could feel it deep in her bones, the same way she had felt it on the night she first received her Grimm File. The pull of demonic energy slithered across her skin, a dark, oily sensation that made her stomach churn. The wards she and her sisters had set up around the city were supposed to keep such threats at bay, but demons were clever. Persistent.

And the one she tracked tonight? This one was too bold.

She paused at the edge of an alleyway, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows. The demonic presence was stronger now, thickening the air with a malevolent pulse. Her breath slowed as she centered herself, muscles tensing, ready to strike. A faint flicker of movement at the far end of the alley confirmed her suspicions.

A low growl escaped her lips. "All right, ugly," she called out. "Let's dance."

A shape detached itself from the shadows. Eight feet tall, with too many limbs and eyes that glowed like embers. It opened a maw filled with needle-sharp teeth and roared.

Phoenix grinned; her own teeth suddenly sharpened in the dim light. "That's right," she purred. "Come to mama."

As the demon charged, Phoenix answered the challenge. This was just another night for Phoenix, one of those who secretly protected New Orleans. Without hesitation, Phoenix moved, her body a blur of motion as she darted into the alley. Her knives slid from their sheaths with practiced ease, the cool metal flashing in the dim light. The demon stood waiting, a hulking, grotesque figure with leathery wings and eyes that glowed with the red fire of hell itself.

It snarled as she approached, its sharp teeth gleaming. "Faery."

"That's right," Phoenix said, her voice steady. "And tonight's your last night in my city."

The demon lunged at her, its massive claws swiping through the air with deadly intent. Phoenix dodged with a graceful twist of her body, her knives cutting through the space where the creature's head had been moments before. She struck fast, slashing one of its wings. Black blood sprayed into the air, sizzling as it hit the ground.

The demon roared, spinning with surprising speed for something so large. Phoenix barely had time to block the strike as its claws raked toward her again. Her arms burned with the effort of holding the creature off, but she used the momentum to pivot, ducking low and slicing at the demon's legs.

It howled in pain, staggering back.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Phoenix taunted, flipping her knives with deadly precision.

The creature bared its teeth and lunged again, but this time she was ready. She rolled beneath its attack, coming up behind it, and plunged both blades deep into its back. The demon screeched, writhing as its body began to disintegrate into a pile of ash.

Panting, Phoenix wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. That had been too close. But she wasn't done yet. Something about the encounter gnawed at her; the demon's behavior more reckless than usual. Almost like it had been driven by something—or someone.

As the last of the ash settled, her gaze caught a glimmer on the ground. A faint, glowing symbol etched into the dirt. Her blood ran cold as she recognized the intricate lines of a summoning circle. But this one wasn't demonic. It was human made. Carefully crafted, likely by someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

"Shit," Phoenix muttered under her breath, crouching down to examine it more closely. The symbols were precise; the incantations were hidden within the design, which were too familiar for comfort. Whoever had summoned this demon wasn't some amateur dabbling in dark magic. This was planned. Calculated.

Dangerous.

She stood, her mind racing as she replayed the encounter in her head. This wasn't just a random demon attack. Something bigger was happening in New Orleans, and she needed answers. Fast.

The best place to find those answers was The Thorny Rose; fortunately, it wasn't far from where she was standing. If anyone had their ear to the ground when it came to the city's supernatural happenings, it was Finn O'Riley. The fae had his fingers in just about every piece of shady business in town, and while his tavern catered to the city's magical elite, it wasn't uncommon to find humans there as well. It was also a place for information.

Phoenix sheathed her knives and took off in the direction of the bar, her thoughts swirling like the thick fog rolling in from the Mississippi.

When she pushed open the heavy wooden door to The Thorny Rose, the familiar scent of smoke, whiskey, and magic filled her senses. The bar was dimly lit, its patrons a mix of fae, shifters, and humans who had no idea they were rubbing elbows with creatures out of their nightmares.

Finn was behind the bar, wiping a glass with a rag, his tall frame hunched over as he listened to a shifter complain about something. His sharp green eyes flicked up as Phoenix entered, a smirk already forming on his lips.

"Well, if it isn't our city's very own demon-slaying faery," he drawled, setting the glass down and crossing his arms. For the most part, humans who patronized The Thorny Rose found Finn to be highly amusing and thought he was just being ‘colorful.' ‘Colorful' characters were a staple of New Orleans' society. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Phoenix?"

She made her way over, ignoring the curious glances from the patrons. "I need information," she said, leaning against the bar. "Something's going on. Demons are being summoned—and not by other demons."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Human summoners? That's a bold claim."

Phoenix nodded, her fingers tapping against the bar's surface. "I found a summoning circle. Human-made. It's precise, Finn. Someone knows what they're doing."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. "That's... troubling. But I haven't heard anything specific about human involvement. At least, not yet."

Phoenix frowned. Finn's network of contacts was vast. If there was a hint of unusual activity in the city, he usually knew about it before anyone else. "Are you sure?"

He gave her a slow, measured look. "I'll dig deeper. See if anyone's heard whispers about new players in town. But Phoenix..." His voice lowered, concern flickering in his eyes. "Be careful. If humans are getting involved in demon summoning, it's going to get messy. Real fast."

She nodded, pushing down the uneasy feeling curling in her chest. "I know. Just... find out what you can."

Finn gave a curt nod, already turning to pour a drink for another customer. Phoenix turned to leave, but a voice from the back of the bar stopped her in her tracks.

"Couldn't stay out of trouble for even one night, could you?"

She stiffened, recognizing the deep, gravelly voice instantly. Griff Broussard. Detective. Dragon- shifter. And a thorn in her side for as long as she could remember. She turned to find him leaning casually against the bar, his piercing dark eyes locked on hers.

"I'm not the one causing trouble, Broussard," she said, her tone clipped. "I'm the one cleaning it up."

He grinned, the sharp edge of his smile sending an annoying jolt through her. "That's not what I hear. Word on the street is you've been stirring up quite a bit of action tonight."

"Word on the street should mind its own damn business," Phoenix shot back, crossing her arms. "What are you doing here?"

Griff shrugged, his muscular frame shifting as he straightened up and joined her at the bar. "Same as you, I imagine. Looking for answers. You're not the only one who's noticed the demon activity picking up."

Her pulse quickened, though she refused to show it. Griff was good at what he did, and as much as she hated to admit it, he had a way of getting under her skin. And not just in an infuriating way. "And have you found anything?"

"Not yet," he admitted, stepping closer, his presence taking up more space than she was comfortable with. "But I've got a feeling we're on the same trail."

She met his gaze, a mixture of frustration and heat simmering beneath the surface. "Then stay out of my way. I don't need your help."

Griff's grin widened, a flash of something dangerous in his eyes. "That's funny because I think you might."

Phoenix glared at him, refusing to let the fire in his eyes distract her. "I work alone."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke. "Not tonight, you don't."

Before she could respond, the sound of breaking glass shattered the tension between them. Phoenix turned just in time to see a figure in the shadows by the door, darting out into the street.

Without thinking, she bolted after it, Griff hot on her heels.

The night air hit her like a wave as she burst out of the bar, her eyes locking onto the retreating figure. It was fast, but she was faster. She sprinted after it, her feet barely touching the ground as she closed the distance.

"Phoenix!" Griff's voice was close behind, but she didn't slow down. The figure ducked into an alley, and Phoenix followed, her senses sharpening as the darkness closed in around her.

She rounded the corner just in time to see the figure disappear through a partially-concealed door at the end of the alley. Phoenix skidded to a halt, her heart pounding in her chest. This wasn't just any alley. It was one of the old parts of the city, the kind of place where magic was steeped into the very bricks.

Griff caught up to her, breathing heavily as he glanced at the door. "Looks like we found our lead."

Phoenix nodded, her grip tightening on her knives. "And it's not going to wait for us."

With one last glance at Griff, she pushed the door open, stepping into the unknown.