Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

PHOENIX

T he air was thick with the scent of incense and magic, swirling together in the cramped, hidden basement beneath one of the oldest buildings in New Orleans. Phoenix stood in the corner, her breath steady but shallow, her back pressed against the cold, damp stone wall. Disguised beneath layers of glamour and magic, she blended into the sea of dark robes that filled the room, the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face. Her heart raced, not out of fear, but with the exhilarating pulse of the hunt. The demon cult she had been tracking for weeks had finally gathered, and tonight, she was going to find out exactly what they were planning.

She hadn't been sure what to expect when she first infiltrated the group. A few whispered words, a symbol drawn in blood, and a darkened meeting place—it all pointed to something big. But as she stood here amidst the cultists, the weight of the dark energy suffocating the room, she realized it was worse than she'd anticipated. Far worse.

The leader, a tall figure whose face was hidden beneath a bone-white mask, raised his hands, and the room fell into a tense silence. His voice, deep and resonant, echoed off the stone walls, drawing the attention of every robed figure in the room. Phoenix kept her head bowed, pretending to listen, but her mind was already working, cataloging the strange symbols etched into the stone floor and the glowing sigils that adorned the walls. Magic, dark and potent, pulsed through the space, making her skin crawl.

"The time is nearly upon us," the leader intoned. "We have infiltrated every level of this city's power structure, and soon, the final ritual will be complete."

Phoenix's ears perked up at that. Infiltrated the power structure? Her blood chilled at the thought. Her instincts had told her something was off about the city's recent string of demon attacks, but she hadn't expected this. This wasn't just some rogue group of demon worshippers. This was organized. This was systemic.

As the leader continued, she heard the murmured name of a high-ranking city official. Her breath caught in her throat. Councilman Victor Fontaine. The man was a well-known philanthropist, a respected figure in New Orleans politics. If he was involved in this…

"Soon, we will no longer need to hide in the shadows," the leader continued, his voice taking on a fervent edge. "The demons will walk among us, and the old gods will rise again. With the councilman's help, no one will be able to stop us."

Phoenix's mind raced. This was bigger than anything she had anticipated. If Fontaine was involved, it was going to be far more complicated than just taking demons down. She was going to need someone on the inside—someone like Griff. She needed to get this information to him—he would know how to handle the political fallout—quickly she sent Griff a text. Now, she needed to get out of here. She had already overstayed her welcome.

Carefully, she edged toward the back of the room, her gaze darting toward the exit. If she could slip out unnoticed, she'd be able to regroup, but just as she reached the threshold, the door creaked open. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

Griff. What the fuck was he doing here? She needed to get him out before he got himself killed or she had to expose her presence to save his sorry ass.

He moved like a shadow, his eyes scanning the room with sharp intensity, unaware that she was watching him. Phoenix's breath hitched as he slipped through the door, his movements fluid, practiced. He was following a lead, of course, and somehow, he'd ended up here. His dragon instincts had clearly pulled him to the same place. But this was dangerous. He had no idea what he was walking into.

Without thinking, Phoenix raised her hand, drawing on the magic that she used as both a weapon and a shield. She whispered the incantation, feeling the glamour wrap around her like a second skin, cloaking her from view. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched Griff move deeper into the room, oblivious to the fact that he was heading straight for the heart of the cult.

He was going to get himself killed if he wasn't careful.

From her hidden vantage point, Phoenix watched as Griff paused near one of the columns, his body tense, alert. She could feel the shift in his energy, the dragon within him stirring just beneath the surface, ready to spring into action. She had always admired the way he moved, how effortlessly he could blend into the shadows when he wanted to. But this wasn't the time for admiration.

Her stomach twisted with concern. If the cult discovered him, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him. They had the numbers—and the dark magic—to make sure of it. Phoenix wanted to step out, to warn him, but she couldn't risk blowing her cover. Not yet.

Griff lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the symbols on the floor. He slipped back into the shadows as silently as he had arrived. Relief flooded through Phoenix as she watched him leave, but her muscles stayed tense. She knew Griff, if he'd started linking things together, he wouldn't give up. He wouldn't let it go. Like it or not, she was stuck with him. She couldn't let him go it alone.

The moment he was out of the room, Phoenix moved. She kept the glamour in place, her form flickering as she passed through the crowd, and exited the building into the cool night air. Her eyes immediately scanned the sky, searching for any sign of Griff. He'd tucked his Harley into a space under a fire escape where it wouldn't be easily spotted. It would seem the dragon-shifter had taken to the skies. Above her, silhouetted against the dark clouds, his wings beat powerfully as he soared in the starry night, his dragon form cutting through the night like a shadow.

For a moment, Phoenix hesitated. She shouldn't follow him. She needed to head for The Thorny Rose, regroup, wait for Griff and then figure out how to deal with the fact that a city councilman was in league with demons. But something pulled at her, a force she couldn't ignore. It had always been like this, from the moment they'd first met, and it was getting worse.

Without another thought, Phoenix called on her fae nature, letting her wings unfurl from beneath the glamour she had used to disguise herself. The rush of magic was intoxicating as her wings beat against the air, lifting her effortlessly from the ground. She ascended into the sky, her eyes locking on Griff as she followed him higher and higher into the night.

The sky wrapped around them like a velvet blanket, the stars twinkling overhead as they soared above the city. The tension that had weighed down on her in the cult's lair began to ease, replaced by the exhilaration of flying. It was a sensation she rarely indulged in—flying was freedom, a release from the weight of her responsibilities. And tonight, she wasn't alone. Griff was there; his dragon form a powerful silhouette against the moonlit sky.

He spotted her then, his massive wings faltering for a fraction of a second before he banked to the right, gliding toward her. For a heartbeat, they flew side by side, their wings cutting through the air in perfect harmony. Phoenix's heart raced, a heady mix of adrenaline and something else entirely.

Griff let out a deep growl, more playful than aggressive, and before she could react, he surged forward, dipping beneath her and then soaring up to her left. Phoenix's lips curved into a smile as she followed his lead, the two of them spiraling and twisting through the sky, their movements perfectly in sync.

The world and all the danger below them disappeared as they danced among the stars, their bodies moving as one. The wind rushed past her, cool against her skin, and for a moment, it was just the two of them—no demons, no cults, no darkness. Just the feeling of flight and the crackling tension between them.

When they finally began their descent, the ground rushing up to meet them, Phoenix felt the shift in the air, the moment of transition from sky to earth. They landed in a secluded alley behind The Thorny Rose, their feet touching the ground in unison. The world snapped back into focus, the weight of reality settling on their shoulders once more.

Before she could say anything, Griff was there, moving faster than she expected. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, pinning her against the brick wall of the warehouse. His body pressed against hers, his breath hot on her skin as he stared down at her with an intensity that made her pulse skyrocket.

"You followed me. You saw them," he growled, his voice low and rough.

Phoenix swallowed, the heat of his body against hers making it difficult to think. "No, I was already there. I was just leaving when you got there. I stayed because I wasn't about to let you get yourself killed."

His eyes darkened, and without another word, Griff's mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was hard, desperate, filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire that had been building between them for years. Phoenix's arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer as the world fell away. If she'd ever questioned whether he found her as arousing as she did him, his naked body, with its hard cock pulsing between them, removed any doubt.

Heat exploded between them, the kiss deepening, his hands gripping her hips as if he couldn't get enough of her. Phoenix's mind spun, her body responding to him instinctively, her own desire rising to match his. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, locked in that fierce embrace, but every second felt like a delicious eternity.

A soft cough interrupted them, pulling them back to the present. Griff froze, his lips still on hers, as they both turned to see Phoenix's Aunt Maeve standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in clear disapproval.

"Well," Maeve said dryly, tossing a pair of jeans and boots at Griff, "this is certainly an interesting development. You might want to put that thing away."

Phoenix pulled away from Griff, her face flushed as she tried to catch her breath. "Aunt Maeve?—"

"I think we'll discuss this later," Maeve interrupted, her eyes flicking between Phoenix and Griff with a knowing glint. "But right now, you and I need to talk."

Phoenix groaned inwardly, shooting Griff a quick glance before stepping away from him. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her as she moved toward her aunt, and despite the interruption, she knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

As Phoenix followed Maeve, she could still feel the heat of Griff's kiss lingering on her lips, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't look back, but the awareness of him standing there, watching her every move, weighed heavily on her. The moment between them had been raw, electric, but now reality was crashing back in, and with it, the gravity of everything they'd uncovered tonight.

Maeve led Phoenix through the back door into The Thorny Rose and to a shadowy corner. One look from her aunt and the two patrons who'd been there first, scrambled away, her usual sharpness tempered with something more serious now. Phoenix had seen her aunt this way only a few times before—when the stakes were at their highest.

"I'm not going to lecture you about your... extracurricular activities," Maeve started, her tone clipped but not unkind. "But I am going to tell you that you need to focus. The demon cult you've been tracking is more dangerous than we initially thought. It's not just rogue summoners dabbling in dark magic anymore. The city's power structure is deeply involved."

Phoenix's stomach twisted at the confirmation. She had overheard the city councilman's name earlier, but hearing Maeve confirm her suspicions made it all too real. "I already know, Maeve. Fontaine's part of it. I heard them mention him tonight."

Maeve's eyes darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Shit. Then you know how bad this is. The fae have worked with others to keep the balance in this city for generations, Phoenix, but if a man like Fontaine is working with a demon cult, all of that could crumble. The cult's influence is spreading faster than we thought."

Phoenix nodded, the weight of the situation sinking in. She had known something was wrong with the sudden increase in demon attacks, but this went far deeper than she had anticipated. "What do we do next?"

Maeve's eyes softened slightly, her hand resting briefly on Phoenix's shoulder. "We prepare for war. The cult isn't going to stop until they've achieved their goal, and now that we know they've infiltrated the political structure, they'll have resources we can't match alone. We need to strengthen the wards around the city, gather our allies, and prepare for whatever they throw at us."

Phoenix's jaw tightened. She hated the feeling of waiting, of not being able to charge in and tear the cult apart from the inside. But she knew Maeve was right. They couldn't rush this—not with so much at stake.

"I'm with you," Phoenix said quietly, her eyes burning with determination. "Whatever needs to be done, I'm ready."

Maeve's gaze lingered on her for a moment before she gave a small nod. "I know you are. But be careful, Phoenix. You're powerful, but you're not invincible. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment—especially where Broussard is concerned. He could prove to be your greatest strength and largest vulnerability."

At the mention of Griff, Phoenix stiffened and rolled her eyes. She hated it when her aunt was being inscrutable. Phoenix's mind flashed back to the heat of his kiss, the way his body had pressed against hers, demanding and fierce. "This isn't about him."

Maeve raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "It better not be. We can't afford distractions right now. Not with the city's soul on the line."

Before Phoenix could respond, Maeve looked to the bar where Griff had been standing. Obviously, he'd followed them inside and gotten a shirt from someone, which was a shame as he really had a gorgeous, chiseled chest and washboard abs.

Maeve's eyes took in the same sight, and she sighed. "I'll leave you to it. Be careful, Phoenix. This family has sacrificed a great deal in the name of love."

Maeve turned on her heel and disappeared into the throng of the bar's customers, leaving Phoenix sitting alone. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, but Phoenix's thoughts were tangled in the aftermath of what had just happened with Griff and what they had both seen. Her body still thrummed with the memory of his touch, and it was taking all her willpower not to let it distract her from the mission ahead.

But as she turned back toward the spot where Griff had been standing, she found herself disappointed—he was gone.

Phoenix's wings stirred beneath her skin, the urge to chase after him, to finish what they had started, clawing at her. But she couldn't give in. Not now.

The night was far from over, and the darkness looming over New Orleans wasn't going to wait for her to sort out her feelings. There were too many moving pieces, too much at stake, and too many unanswered questions. But one thing was certain: she couldn't face this alone.

With a frustrated sigh, Phoenix left the tavern and took to the air, her wings unfurling as she soared above the city once more. The sky welcomed her, the cool night breeze kissing her skin, but her mind was anything but calm. She had to focus. The demons, the cult, Fontaine—it was all connected, and she was going to tear it apart, piece by piece.

But as the city sprawled out beneath her, glittering in the darkness, her thoughts drifted back to Griff. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were entwined in ways she couldn't yet understand. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was becoming more than just an ally in this fight.

A storm was coming, and when it hit, Phoenix knew that she and Griff would either be standing side by side—or at each other's throats. Either way, the battle lines had been drawn.