Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Phoenix
The first thing I register is his breathing. Slow, even, steady. The second is the ache in my body. The echo of last night sinking into my bones. The burn in my chest from a mark that isn’t visible.
Ghost is still asleep with his arm draped loosely around my naked waist. His pace is peaceful, for once. No worry lines, no tension. Just the man, wrapped in sheets and whatever fragile calm we earned in the wreckage.
I watch him for one breath, then two.
Last night, I chose him. Not for survival, not for strategy, just for me. And now, I’m already halfway gone. The cold edge of the world has crept back in.
I carefully shift, sliding out from under Ghost’s arm.
Out of habit and survival, my feet hit the floor silently.
My jeans from yesterday are stiff with dried blood.
Some of it mine, most not. I don’t flinch from the sight.
Instead, I find a clean pair and tug them on.
My boots follow, laced tight. I slip a clean t-shirt on and sheath my blade, followed by my Glock, loaded and ready to use.
I throw my leather cut over my shoulders like armor, because that’s what it is.
Ghost barely stirs. A twitch of his hand in the sheets, like he’s seeking me out. I pause and watch him.
I almost reach out. I almost brush my fingers over his chest. I want to let my lips touch his forehead, like he did to me. But I don’t. Instead, I slip out of the room without a sound. I don’t look back.
The hallway is quiet, save for the low murmur of voices from some of my sisters downstairs. Poison’s voice cuts through the haze. Orders are being formed, plans breathing in the walls. The world waits for no one.
I pass a mirror near the stairwell and catch my reflection. My dark hair is a mess, bruises paint my collarbone, and the bags under my eyes are darker than usual. Something glints on my neck, then I notice a piece of it missing.
Shit. One of my dog tags. It must have fallen off somewhere because I never take them off. Since the first day of boot camp, these tags have never left my neck.
One must have come off last night in the heat of the moment.
It’s still in the room, still with him. I can’t take a chance and go look for it, so I leave it with him.
Let Ghost find it and wonder why it mattered enough to wear in the first place.
Let him feel the weight of it. Give him something of mine, in case I don’t come back.
I head downstairs, armor up, and head back into danger.
The safehouse kitchen smells like black coffee and blood. The metallic tang still clings to my skin, even after I scrubbed my hands raw. Everyone’s gathered, except for Ghost, he’s still upstairs sleeping. There are scattered chairs, mugs, taped ribs, and tension thick enough to cut through.
Poison is at the head of the table with her arms crossed and her voice cold as steel.
“Vale’s not dead.” She doesn’t pause for gasps or questions.
She just keeps going. “That chapel was a ritual site. The spiral’s not just a symbol, it’s a trigger.
Possibly a map or a doorway. I don’t care what it is right now, what I care about is who’s helping him. ”
Viper taps the edge of the tablet. “We intercepted three comms lines since last night. All of them are burners, but they all lead to one of Vale’s known caches, and two connect to MC’s out of Texas and Georgia.”
“Could be alliances forming,” Gypsy adds, her leg bouncing and her eyes are sharp. “Or black market shit. Weapons, personnel. Could be military-grade, too. Someone’s helping him move bigger pieces.”
Poison nods, her jaw set tight. “He’s not hiding anymore, he’s recruiting. That means we strike now, hard and fast, but smart.”
Everyone agrees and nods until Scissors leans forward. Her voice cuts through, “What about the spiral? What about the flash of white we saw last night?”
I don’t answer. Not because I’m afraid, but because I don’t know how to explain what happened to me, or if they’ll believe me if I tried.
Wendigo speaks up. Her arm is wrapped in gauze. Her face is half in shadow, but her eyes are sharp. “Vale called you ‘the key’, Phoenix. You froze up after the flare hit. What the hell happened?”
All eyes shift toward me. I hate this part.
Not the pressure, but the exposure. I stare at the scarred wood on the table.
I think about the way Vale smiled before he vanished.
The way the flash of white swallowed everything, how to spiral hummed in my bones like it knew me.
I don’t want to say it, but silence will fracture more than my ribs.
“I don’t know what it is,” I say with a flat voice. “The spiral, when it lit up, it wasn’t just light. It felt like it was inside me. Like it was, waking something.”
Scissors narrows her eyes. “You saying this is psychic now? Supernatural shit?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m saying it’s connected to Val and to me. I don’t know how or why. He called me “the key’, but didn’t say what I unlock, or what gets unleashed if I don’t.”
The air goes still. Gypsy’s hands stop tapping.
“And you’re just telling us this now?” Wendigo asks with a quiet but sharp voice.
I meet her eyes. “I was trying to keep you alive. We almost lost Ghost. We could’ve lost all of us. You think I wanted to bring some mystical bullshit into the middle of a gunfight?”
Poison finally speaks, calm but edgy. “We don’t run from the truth. Even the fucked up kind.”
“I’m not running,” I say. “I’m warning. If Vale’s not done, neither is whatever power he tapped. And if he wants me, then we don’t get to ignore what’s coming.”
Poison nods once. “Then we use it. Whatever this is, we twist it back on him. Gypsy, Viper, track those supply lines. See who else is in bed with Vale. Scissors, Wendigo, prep recon options. We find his next base and burn it before it breathes.”
Everyone starts moving, preparing for what’s to come. As I turn away, I catch the look in Scissor’s and Wendigo’s eyes. It’s not doubt, but it’s caution.
Like I’ve become something they can’t quite trust, and maybe their right.
We’re almost ready to go when our earpieces come alive and MV’s mechanical voice cuts through.
“One of the kids I take care of is gone. They vanished off the grid. Their last ping was in Mississippi in a roadside motel outside Ellis Creek. Poison, Phoenix, it’s starting again. You need to get there.”
Before any of us can respond, MV disappears.
My blood turns to ice. MV doesn’t use words like vanished unless they’ve already tried every back door and bypass in their arsenal.
If a kid's off their radar, it’s not a glitch.
It’s a trap to lure MV out from behind their computer and face this head-on.
Our job is to protect MV and not let them expose themselves.
Poison meets my eyes. She doesn’t look toward the hallway, doesn’t ask where Ghost is, and I don’t offer. He’s still sleeping, and I left him there for a reason. To protect him.
Poison’s jaw is set, her eyes cold and sharp. “Roll out in ten.” She turns to the rest of the club. “Vale’s expanding. If he’s targeting MV’s kids, then he’s not just building an army, he’s sending a message.”