PHOENIX (The Weaver Series Book 4) Read online

  Phoenix

  Vaun Murphrey

  This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Vaun M Murphrey

  Cover illustration and jacket design by Nathalia Suellen.

  Editing by Todd Barselow and Dr. Susan J. Nix

  Formatting by Author’s HQ

  Author photo by Sam Norman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author rights.

  PHOENIX, Book Four Chapter Guide

  Chapter One: Aftermath

  Chapter Two: Drama Llama Ding Dong

  Chapter Three: In the Flesh

  Chapter Four: Reality Bites

  Chapter Five: Switch

  Chapter Six: Something in my Eye

  Chapter Seven: Fit Hitting Shans

  Chapter Eight: The Only Constant

  Chapter Nine: The Juice

  Chapter Ten: Pissing Contests

  Chapter Eleven: Clone Wars

  Chapter Twelve: My Boyfriend’s Back

  Chapter Thirteen: Guerilla Warfare

  Chapter Fourteen: Showdown at the Council Corral

  Chapter Fifteen: Only Partly Dead

  Chapter Sixteen: Hissy Fit

  Chapter Seventeen: Let’s Do Brunch

  Chapter Eighteen: The Hand that Feeds You

  Chapter Nineteen: Don’t Start None, Won’t Be None

  Chapter Twenty: In the Dark There is More Light

  Chapter Twenty-One: The Shadows of Creation’s Destruction

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Release

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Human Landfill

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Mazel Tov!

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Mountains and Molehills

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Out of the Deep

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Ring of Fire

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: If I Go There Will Be Trouble, If I Stay There Will Be Double

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Gopher Squad

  Chapter Thirty: Knock, Knock?

  Chapter Thirty-One: The Ice Queen Cometh!

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Trust Issues

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Last Rites

  Epilogue: Daepscua-The Shadow of Death

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  I hope you enjoy the show.

  Dedication

  To my friends and fellow writers. I’m not going to list you all. There isn’t enough room.

  The Weaver Series

  ** Spoiler alert! **

  CHIMERA

  Book One Super Summary: Cassandra Rainbow is held captive by her parent’s murderers for eight years and is then liberated by an uncle she doesn’t know. Ultimately, she finds out she is a Weaver and has to learn to live with and navigate a vast world of minds, plus accept an unexpected twin while overcoming attempts on her life.

  CHANGELING

  Book Two Super Summary: Earth is not alone. Other sentient life across the universe have formed the Galactic Alliance of Sentient Planets. The Rainbows agree to live on Axsa with their Aniy guardian Kal for an unspecified period of time. Will they ever make it back to Earth?

  VECTOR

  Book Three Super Summary: The Weaver compound is attacked and half destroyed. Traitors reveal themselves and loved ones die. From the rubble of battle those that are struck with grief find the strength to journey on. Can evil ever truly be defeated?

  PHOENIX

  Book Four Super Summary: Read on, read on.

  Acknowledgments

  Along the writing way I discovered a treasure trove of different but like-minded human beings to share in my crazy. I was able to make their acquaintance because I attended the Writers’ Academy at WTAMU in Canyon, Texas in June of 2013. A good dose of the reality of publishing got smashed like a boulder over my head but I learned and I mingled and, best of all, I came away with new friends. Having attended the same academy again in June of 2014, I met more talented, sharing writers and learned even more until my head felt like it might explode. (This is a good thing!)

  Vaun Murphrey

  www.vaunmurphrey.com

  [email protected]

  www.Facebook.com/VaunMurphreyAuthorPage

  Chapter One: Aftermath

  Six months had passed and we were deep into West Texas fall, galloping into winter at full speed. The wind was cold and heartless as it refused to wend its way around the trees, instead pushing against thick trunks causing them to creak and upper branches to tremble, littering the ground with dried pine needles.

  Thankfully we couldn’t feel any of it with our shield up. I could sense the tiny filament that led off like a snail trail, connecting us to Corinne where she sat warm and snug in her room, most likely reading a book. In fact, I could sense everyone under the umbrella of the petite blonde’s protective veneer—Maggie in the clinic, the twins playing outside for recess at the onsite school with Melody, Kara going through the motions of an online college course in her room, Malcolm in his squad car on the Interstate waiting to snag a speed demon with his radar gun, and James somewhere ahead as he drew ever closer.

  We had experimented with distance all over the brick-walled enclave and beyond but there didn’t yet appear to be anywhere we couldn’t reach with the protective veneer of energy. Bending seemed to be the only sure fire way to break out and even then if you were close to Corinne it still came back on its own if you gave it a few seconds.

  Moments ago James called us to the building he’d staked out as our security offices, and yes we could have ‘ported, but the cold weather was actually pleasant to walk in when you didn’t have to feel the bite.

  Mez and Kal, our Axsian allies, had been off on a mission somewhere in Brazil for the Galactic Alliance about a month now, and my twin got grumpier with every day that passed. The metaphysical bond gluing her to Mez for life made her morose when he wasn’t near.

  “So do you have any idea what Romeo might want, Cass?”

  I shrugged and tugged down on the hem of our plaid snap front western shirt. Feeling secure on our home turf I answered aloud, not particularly worried that anyone would think us crazy. “No clue. It could have something to do with the Council, based on how tense he was. We’ll see in a minute.”

  The Weaver Council had agreed to give us a settling in period before we reassigned the two vacant seats that Gerome and Cora’s deaths had caused. Cora Harris had held the Coyote Seat and our uncle had held the Fox Seat. The Council’s patience was suspicious.

  Local authorities had spent some time grilling all of us about our mini cafeteria battle at the old compound until Agent Chavarria stepped in, taking over jurisdiction of the case and quelling further investigation. There’d been exactly one article in the local paper and it’d quickly been retracted. The officer who’d given a statement about aliens on Earth was brushed under the rug as needing mental help and the whole thing was cleverly and humorously written off. Now we were going to owe the Agent or his organization and that debt didn’t sit well at all.

  I was so engrossed in our conversation and mental meanderings that our boot almost caught on a slab of sidewalk pushed upwards by a tree root. Just ahead, James rounded the corner of the brown brick security building with a group of four men at his back. His body was ramrod straight from the starched collar of his white dress shirt to the seams on the front of his khaki cargo pants. If he were a
ny crisper or more pristine, I’d hazard to say he ironed himself with his clothes on.

  Since our arms were extended mid-flail it was hard to look composed or dignified as we trip hopped back into a regular walk so I nonchalantly dusted our palms on the thighs of our faded wranglers. Two of the older men following James wore forbidding disapproving demeanors. Their sunbaked skin reminded us of clay pots. I wondered where they were from, since to our knowledge, there didn’t seem to be a big Native American population locally.

  The other two men were younger with more youthful versions of the same attitude plastered across their frowning faces. They all looked related and their clothing wasn’t high end. They presented like farmers out for a necessary but hated trip to town. Mustard colored canvas Carhartt jackets and worn faded denim tucked into the tops of scuffed boots gave their profession away.

  Silver rummaged in the collective memories of our relations in the Web for information, avoiding Gerome’s, which seemed silly, but I wasn’t going to argue with my twin as she hit pay dirt in our grandmother’s remembrances.

  “Businessmen not farmers, Sister. The Diamond Desire Casino has been the bread and butter of the Tohono O’odham Nation since 1994, but I’m sure they could have some agricultural ventures. Maybe they dressed all country so we’d think they were bumpkins? They’ve been a part of the Council since before Europeans really got entrenched in the Americas. There are some hard feelings lingering even today because they blame the Weaver clans of Western Europe for the invasion of their continents—North and South. Power base wise, they own lots and lots of land. I’d say they’ve got influence. They hold the most seats of any clan and I think we’re looking at two Council members right now. From Noemi’s memories I’d guess Cow Seat and Bull Seat.”

  James made an exasperated eye flick to the sky at our clumsiness and then gave a quick glance backward at our visitors before offering us a look of warning. Apparently caution was required.

  Silver gave an internal crow. “When it gets to the pissing off stage let me handle it. Until then, you go play nice!”

  I whined back, “Why do I always have to be the nice one?”

  Smug, my sister replied, “Because you’re better at it.”

  I observed, “Somehow I always end up being better at things you don’t want to do…hmmm.”

  Silver gave a dark chuckle. “Pure coincidence, Sister.”

  The shield around James flexed and rippled, adjusting to his rapid movements as he increased his stride to pull ahead of the group with ease. While the foursome was distracted by their surroundings, James put on a one second burst of enhanced speed blurring to our side to place a hand about our waist, halting our forward progress. His lips brushed up against the shield covering our earlobe.

  He murmured, “Be respectful, even if they aren’t. Let’s see what they want before you tell them to go fly a kite.”

  Silver turned our head into his face, forcing James to pull back. “Who invited them?”

  My twin tended to pitch her voice to carry, even when she was trying to whisper, so the oldest gentleman in the group was close enough to hear her question. He looked to be in his eighties, with wrinkles around his eyes entrenched like a miniscule map of the Grand Canyon on his skin. Perhaps his hearing aids were turned up full blast?

  Regardless, his raspy dry voice cut through the wind with no hesitation. “No one invited us. We came to offer aid and make sure leadership is restored in the proper fashion. I assure you that we would rather be tending to our own clan than driving six hundred miles to fix yours.”

  Silver opened our mouth to put the old fart in his place and James stepped on our foot. It didn’t hurt but the pressure through the shield reminded us to think.

  I responded with thinly veiled impatience. “From where we stand nothing seems broken. The compound transferred smoothly from one location to another, with a minimum of casualties we might add, after a natural disaster and an unwarranted attack by the Warp Faction and two renegade Axsians operating in concert.”

  Waving an arm like a severely under dressed Vanna White, I gestured at the buildings and trees inside the enclave. “Six months later and most regular operations have resumed. We’ve begun assimilation back into Outsider society and hope to reawaken the quest for spontaneously occurring Weavers. Down the road we’ll likely wipe out the Warp Faction so you don’t have to worry about those pesky killers anymore. You’re welcome. Have a nice drive back to Arizona.”

  James growled low under his breath in frustration at our lack of diplomacy.

  Four sets of dark brown assessing eyes stared blankly at us from under the brims of their faded baseball caps. One of the younger men, and by younger I mean middle-aged, had a much abused Cardinals cap on. I relaxed back onto the heels of our new cowboy boots, a gift from Kal to replace our old lost pair, and unfocused our eyes to stare glassily back. We had an edge—Corinne’s shield protected our eyes from the wind, they had no such advantage.

  Silent intimidation attempts we could handle.

  Just to see what would happen I held out an ungloved hand to say, “Perhaps we started off on the wrong foot? Our names are Cassandra and Silver Rainbow. We’re the leaders of this clan and James Lee is our head of security. I imagine Silver will take up our mother’s Panther Seat and I’ll assume the Fox Seat after Uncle Gerome. Corinne Harris will inherit her murdering Mad Hatter mother’s seat. Thank you for taking the time to check on us in person. How may we help you?”

  Grand Canyon Eyes blinked and cocked his head. No one recognized our extended hand as it held steady between us like the barrier at a railroad crossing. I gave it about ten more seconds before I straightened our elbow, lowering our bare hand down to dangle loosely as if we weren’t tense from this face-off.

  As one they all lowered their lids to confer in the Web.

  Rude.

  I risked a glance up at James and noticed his lashes were creating a long shadow making his light green eyes look pinched but exotic. He felt the weight of our consideration and let the back of his hand bump into ours before running a long finger briefly on the inside of our protected palm. A small smile bent the corners of our mouth.

  Silver’s presence popped out in our head as she went to spy on the men rudely excluding us from their conversation. Their hesitance at our offered handshake and the way they’d treated it as if it where dipped in fecal matter let us know word of our Vector gifts were spreading. With our veneer of energy in place we weren’t catching, but they didn’t possess that little nugget of knowledge, obviously.

  Our uninvited guests didn’t know everything—they just wanted us to think they did.

  Silver returned with a pressure pop and a whistle of appreciation. “Talk about attachments spreading back to beyond and then some. These guys have been Weavers since there were Weavers. It’s impressive. Our family tree even intertwines with theirs on Noemi’s side here and there. These are our distant, nigh on almost untraceable, cousins or something.”

  I snorted and James gave a chin hitch in question.

  Out loud I said, “Silver says these men are related to us distantly.”

  Cardinal Cap opened his eyes to say, “Very distantly, but yes you are.”

  We stared into his hostile consideration, waiting for an elaboration. Our eyebrows crept up as our head cocked to the side in an unspoken request for him to continue.

  When he didn’t speak Silver jumped in control of our mouth. “If you’re family you could introduce yourself for a start…?”

  Surprisingly he reached up a work roughened hand to doff his cap and thrust forward his other empty thick fingered hand in greeting. “John Reno, Jr. and the elder you insulted so casually is my great grandfather, Manuel Reno.”

  Silver played nice as she slid our smaller delicate looking hand into his saying, “Our apologies, we weren’t expecting guests today. A call ahead would have been appreciated.”

  Though the shield protected us from the increased pressure we could still
feel it when John tried to dominate the handshake by crushing our knuckles together. It seemed only fair to return the squeeze and his lids flinched as we smiled brightly, applying a more than equal reciprocating pressure. The taller man tried to let go first and we allowed it, after a half second hesitation to make sure he knew who’d won.

  Grand Canyon Eyes, aka Manuel Reno, barked something in Uto-Aztecan or O’odham that sounded annoyed, and John gave a blink of acknowledgment before backing away to stand behind his great grandfather.

  Silver snickered. “Some-bo-dy done got told.”

  James’ smooth calm voice split the tension as he suggested, “If you gentlemen would like a tour of our facilities I would be happy to oblige.” His lids drooped in a bored, patronizing way as he stood stolidly by our side.

  The other elderly gentleman that could’ve just been in his late sixties tried to play the ‘old card’, shook his head side to side with a slight tremor, which we didn’t believe for a second. These dudes where tough, like an antique razor strap.

  He asked, “The trip has worn us down. Would you have a place we could stay to rest for a bit?”

  His eyes were wily even if his face was just as hard as the rest of them. Perhaps he was the grandfather who acted mean in front of company but snuck you candy when nobody was looking. We’d never had a grandfather around, so we’d hardly know from personal experience. Our exploration of the Web and the life stories it held gave us a glimpse into a different way of living.