Phoenix King

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Blurb

  When I arrive back at the city dome with Omari in tow, I knows it's going to be a challenge. My life isn't exactly ideal for a child, but I'm determined to make it work. I'm resourceful and reasonably intelligent—I'll figure it out.

  Right?

  But then my already risky life starts to turn even riskier. A job goes wrong. It happens. I shrug it off. But then another goes sideways soon after the first. And then things really start to hit the fan.

  I've never been without my fair share of enemies but this is ridiculous!

  And then I have to deal with Ashur when he gets wind of what's going on and shows up to insist I come back with him to the safety of his territory.

  To make matters worse, Ashur doesn't exactly get along with my friend, Jacob. Never mind that they're both just trying to keep me safe.

  I dig in my heels, despite everything. I'm determined to stay, to get to the bottom of what's going on. Nobody is going to drive me out of my home if I can help it.

  But things sure are complicated when there's a pissed off Dragon Lord, an ex-mercenary, and a six year old involved.

  Phoenix King

  Dragons & Phoenixes Book Two

  Miranda Martin

  Nadia Hunter

  Copyright © 2017 by Miranda Martin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Red Hot Preview: Dragon’s Baby

  Chapter One

  Principal Dorothy Simmons had a no-nonsense salt-and-pepper bob and glasses hooked onto those necklace chains that let you wear them like an awkwardly large accessory. Currently, she was peering down at the documents I was told I needed to bring, her mouth pursed, revealing the network of fine lines around her lips that were on their way to becoming deep lines. She must make that expression a lot.

  I watched, trying not to fidget in my seat. I wasn't worried about the documents. I paid a lot for those forgeries. They were supposed to be able to withstand a thorough combing by the authorities. An elementary school principal should be a piece of cake.

  She glanced up at me from above her lenses, her sharp dark eyes giving me a hard look. I tried to appear innocent.

  "Hmm." She returned her attention to the paperwork.

  All right. Maybe I was a little worried. I glanced behind me to make sure Omari was still doing okay in the little waiting area they had set up where kids could play. He was currently pushing a small train along a track, his round face utterly focused on the task at hand like only a six-year-old could be. For the first day of school, I'd gotten him a new, brightly colored t-shirt with some cartoon he was really excited about, new sneakers that matched, and some jeans that weren't so worn. I didn't want him to be at any more of a disadvantage than he already was.

  Reassured he was fine, I turned back to Principal Simmons. With nothing else to focus on while she read, I took in her clothing. A crisp white blouse and sedate brown cardigan. I looked down at my own outfit, my beat-up synth-leather jacket, t-shirt, worn jeans, and scarred boots.

  The jacket hid my knives.

  Maybe I should have dressed for the part a little better.

  I adjusted the package I had on my lap. I couldn't let it out of my sight until the job was done, so it had to come into the office with me. It was a plain box, but I guess carrying any kind of box wasn't exactly usual. That probably didn't help me blend much either.

  She finally set the tablet down, pulled her glasses off, and folded her hands on her desk with an air of having done exactly the same far too many times to count.

  "So, Mia Hill, you were just appointed Omari's guardian," she said, her eyes scanning me. She didn't seem to think I was up to the job, but it was possible that was just my own insecurity speaking. "And he's your brother?"

  "Yes," I responded, trying a smile.

  We only shared a father, but I didn't think that was relevant. But maybe the fact that we looked different made things even more suspicious. Omari's skin was a deeper brown than mine, his features more rounded.

  Simmons didn't smile back, giving me a suspicious look instead.

  Tough crowd.

  I couldn't really be offended by it either. Not when she was right to think something odd was going on. But I made sure I'd dotted all my i's and crossed all my t's. Omari needed to go to school, needed to have a life that was as normal as I could make it while running my own business, and hiding the fact that neither of us were exactly human.

  "I see." She looked back at Omari. "He is going to have to be assessed, of course, but for now we can put him with his age group."

  "Great," I said. "That would be great."

  She nodded. "Omari," she called out firmly.

  Omari looked up, a questioning expression on his face.

  "Are you ready for your first day of school?" she asked with a much warmer expression than she showed me.

  Omari looked over at me, clearly not knowing how to respond.

  "Can I have a minute to speak with him?" I asked, already standing up to go over there.

  "Yes, of course."

  I crouched in front of Omari so my back was to Simmons, shielding him and giving us a smidge of privacy.

  "What's wrong?" I asked directly. "I thought you were excited to go to school, to make new friends?"

  He wouldn't meet my eyes, looking down at the table with the train tracks set up.

  "Omari? Come on, you can tell me." I set my hand down on his shoulder, squeezing it.

  He finally met my eyes, his own fearful. "What if nobody likes me? What if I'm not smart enough? Do I have to go to school? Why can't I just go to work with you?"

  I sighed. I completely understood his fear. The unknown was scary.

  "Everyone will like you," I said patiently, fully believing it. Omari was a sweet kid. "I know that for sure, because you're amazing. And I know you're really, really smart. You know why?"

  He shook his head. "Why?"

  "Because you're my brother."

  That made him smile a little. "That doesn't mean I'm smart."
<
br />   "Of course it does," I said confidently. "It means you're very smart. Don't you think I'm smart?"

  He nodded. "Yes."

  Whew. Thank God. Anything else would have been quite a blow to the ego and ended this line of reasoning right there.

  "Then you are too. No way my own brother wouldn't be smart," I scoffed. "Not possible."

  "But why do I have to come here?" he reiterated, apparently not satisfied with that reassurance alone.

  "Because it's the law," I said firmly. "And because school teaches you things you won't learn on your own."

  He still didn't look convinced. A different tactic was called for.

  "Okay. Look—how about a deal?"

  He straightened a little, hope infusing his face. "A deal?"

  "Yes. You try going to school. If in a month you don't like it, we'll look for another one you might like better. Sound good?"

  "Um." He screwed up his face. "Is that my only option?"

  I chuckled. "I'm afraid so, kid. So, what do you say? Think you can brave the unknown?"

  He looked down, shrugging. "I guess so."

  I needed to bring out the big guns. That face was breaking my heart.

  "And after school, you can have one of Jacob's brownies."

  That had him sitting up, his face suddenly bright. "A big one?" he asked hopefully, his big brown eyes looking at me imploringly. That was a hard look to say no to.

  "A huge one," I promised.

  "Okay. I'll try."

  I resisted the urge to pump my fists in the air. Crisis averted! This one was a nail-biter. I didn't know how to be a sister, let alone a guardian. I really hoped I was doing things right.

  "Hug?" I asked, stretching my arms out.

  He immediately wrapped his around me, giving me a hug so tight I swear I could feel my ribs bend. He was going to be really strong really soon. I let out a silent breath of relief when he let go.

  "All right." I stood up and Omari followed my lead. "Let's do this."

  He nodded, his little chin thrust out in determination. "Let's do this," he parroted, marching forward next to me to Principal Simmons's desk. "I'm ready to go to school."

  I could see the stern school administrator hiding her amusement. Would you look at that? Even she wasn't immune to Omari's charm.

  "I can see that, young man," she said, standing up. "And I'm ready to take you to your classroom. You're going to love Ms. Nguyen."

  And then we were all stepping out into the hall and trooping down to Omari's class. The narrow hall was empty, class already having begun for the day. Through the doors came the sounds of kids talking in some rooms and teachers lecturing in others.

  When we stopped at the end of the hall and Principal Simmons opened the door, I peered in with Omari to take in the class. Maybe twenty or so kids were seated at tiny desks created especially for six-year-olds. The walls were decorated with colorful art projects done by little hands, and smells of glue and candy filled the air. Ms. Nguyen was at the front, a tall, thin woman with a smooth, dark ponytail, dressed in a soft yellow twinset, sensible flats on her feet. The epitome of an elementary school teacher.

  She looked over as the door opened, a smile on her face.

  "I have a new student for you, Ms. Nguyen..."

  I watched from the doorway as Omari followed Simmons in and Ms. Nguyen introduced him to the class. I could see he was feeling shy, but he waved and went over to the desk the teacher indicated without an issue.

  When he was seated, he looked over to see I was still waiting. I waved at him and he waved back.

  Then a little blond girl with pigtails sitting next to him leaned over and said something. He chuckled and then covered his mouth with his hand. I slipped away when I saw him relax a little. He was going to be okay.

  He was a tough little cookie.

  I only hoped I could do right by him.

  Outside, I hopped onto one of the automated trolleys that were built to help the population get around the city dome. With everything as crowded as it was and with space at a premium, public transportation was a necessity.

  I looked up at the large hexagonal sections of the dome above, the clear blue of the sky bright even through the panels. The sun was beating down like it usually was, but the dome was doing its job and buffering us against the harsh rays, making them gentle and human-friendly while also creating an environment where the atmosphere and air quality could be controlled.

  Humans couldn't last long outside the dome. With the ozone as depleted as it was and the caustic chemicals polluting the air, it was so unfriendly that the domes had to be built, creating pockets of safety for the most-vulnerable race. With humans mostly confined to the city domes, dragons and phoenixes thrived in their own communities in the harsh environment outside, their hardier natures and affinity for the sun meaning they didn't have the same limitations.

  When I'd first met Omari, he was a job. A job I was coerced into. I had a rule—I only handled inanimate objects, but he was still a job. He was part phoenix and sun-sick from lack of radiation exposure inside the dome. I thought I'd drop him off with his family in the phoenix territory, and that would be that.

  Finding out that the whole thing had been a ploy to get me into phoenix territory was a surprise, to say the least. Discovering that the Phoenix King was my father and Omari was my brother hadn't even been on my radar.

  After I found out Omari didn't have any real family to go back to—as far as I was concerned, King Emberich was nothing but a sperm donor for both of us—I'd thought long and hard about what to do. There was no question that he was staying with me. But could I come back to the city dome with him?

  I knew it wasn't easy living here, having grown up around humans when I was part dragon and part phoenix—another surprise for me. My mother had been part dragon but had never revealed who dear old dad was. I would never have found out if Emberich hadn't concocted that plan to get me to his territory.

  Why exactly, I didn't know. Though according to my newfound grandmother, it wasn't for any good reason. He was jealous of his power and what he perceived as any possible threat to it.

  Great guy, right?

  It was all still a trip. I was still getting used to having so much family now when I'd become accustomed to having none after my mother died.

  As with most complicated things, my decision ultimately came down to a very practical issue. My work was in the city dome. The courier business that I'd built through pure hard work. My home, my life. Everything was here.

  Ashur, Dragon Lord of the nearby dragon skein and my new...something...had wanted me and Omari to stay with him. I'd been tempted. But what if things didn't work out between us? I wouldn't be just putting my own life at risk, but also Omari's.

  I needed to provide some kind of stability, or the closest I could get to it anyway. So I'd brought Omari back here. And I was determined to give him a good life. Which meant I'd have to work extra hard to make sure any lean times didn't affect him.

  I adjusted the package under my arm. Starting with the first job today, I'd make this work for Omari's sake.

  I got off the trolley about a block away from where my office was located. It wasn't the best area and it wasn't the worst. I didn't want to cut down on my potential client pool from the get-go with a place that discouraged either end of the income scale too much. From the street, the gray-brick structure with the short stoop looked pretty bland and innocuous, which I liked. I didn't want anything too eye- or attention-catching. The dentist on one side and the consignment shop on the other added to the mediocrity of the place.

  I hopped up the short flight of stairs, opened the door, and entered the foyer. Generic flooring and lighting and a standard staircase that led up to the other businesses were the only things inside. I turned to the left, where the door with the frosted glass and my name in gold lettering was located.

  I used the retinal scanner to get in, even though I didn't have much faith in it after the office had been b
roken into so easily by Santiago, the client I later realized was working for my father. But I hadn't changed anything. No security was really a hundred percent secure. Not if someone really wanted to get in. The retinal scanner kept my stuff from being stolen, which was all I really needed. I kept items to deliver on my person for the most part.

  My office wasn't much to look at. One room, furnished, with a desk that had seen a lot of use, a wheeled chair for me, two chairs for potential clients, and cabinets against one wall that contained all the tools of the trade I'd accumulated thus far. Clothes, makeup, handcuffs.

  Sometimes I got specific instructions on how to deliver something, like a birthday party last year that had required me to wear an evening gown. Not my favorite thing to do but now I had that gown tucked away in case something like that popped up again. The only art was one ambiguous painting of what I think was a bird hung on the wall opposite my desk. That was all I'd done in terms of decoration. I didn't have a large enough profit margin to add any more.

  I logged into my computer to check emails, one of the least glamorous things about having my own business. Though still preferable to doing taxes. I scrolled through the potential clients, bills, and people trying to sell me stuff. I stopped at one that I didn't immediately recognize. The sender wasn't named. It was blocked out.

  Highly illegal.

  I clicked to open it. It was just one line, no greeting or signature.

  Watch your back.

  Huh.

  I leaned back in my chair and considered it. My first thought was that it was a threat. I'd worked for and with more than a few questionable characters. As long as I was paid, I didn't care. For the most part, they didn't mess with me and all I needed to do was get something from Point A to Point B, so I was willing to take those jobs after a little due diligence. But sometimes things didn't go exactly as planned.