From the Ashes (Phoenix Prologue)

He nodded, looking over his shoulder at the approaching enforcer. "Yeah, I remember," he said sullenly. He hated Brock as much as she did, although his dislike of the overgrown bully came from when he'd caught him cornering Aella one night on watch. Her little brother was almost as protective of her as she was of him.

"Just meet me there tomorrow morning, OK? As soon as you can get there. Right after you get dropped off."

He turned back to her. "If Derrick finds out..." he started.

"I know," she murmured, just as Brock got within hearing distance. "Just trust me."

"Trust you with what?" Brock asked, crossing his arms as he pushed Cody aside to stand in front of her.

"Just that she'll kick your ass if you try groping hers again so I won't have to," Cody sneered, stepping between them. Aella pressed her lips together, both exasperated and amused, as Brock narrowed his eyes at him.

"Beat it, kid," he snapped as Cody dodged the fist he lodged at his arm.

"No way. You're on watch with me tonight, not her."

She grabbed Cody in a one-armed hug as she planted a kiss on his cheek, grinning when he swiped at it disgustedly. "See you in a few hours, Sprout," she said softly, turning a warning gaze on Brock as she stepped away. Not that it would make a lick of difference. They both knew there wasn't anything she could do to him.

One more night, she told herself. Just one more night.

..............................................

Aella twisted her fingers nervously, pacing back and forth in front of the boathouse where she was supposed to meet up with Trevino and Cody in less than an hour. Her eyes darted between the little stretch of beach and the parking lot, waiting for them both to arrive. She was early; she hadn't wanted to risk Derrick keeping her behind, so she'd left before Cody, slipping out before Eric came to wake them both up. She was old enough to pick her own hunting grounds, but one of the enforcers always escorted Cody somewhere at dawn. Derrick's way of keeping them separate.

She spun away from the parking lot and walked closer down the little stretch of beach toward the water, kicking up waves of sand in nervous, jerking movements. She wouldn't be able to breathe easy until Cody was with her. Her shoulders slumped in relief at the sound of a car door slamming shut behind her, just as she spotted a small figure approaching from the head of the trail that led up to the main front street. Trevino had pulled through. He'd come for her. And Cody...

Her brow furrowed as the figure got closer, but it wasn't Cody. Todd, a boy Cody's age and one of the kids she'd taken with her two weeks ago, slowly approached her, a guilty expression on his still-bruised face. "Todd? Where's Cody?"

"He didn't make it," a voice said from behind her. Cold dread settled like a dead weight in her stomach.

No. Oh god, please no.

A hand brushed against her shoulder and grazed down her arm, gripping it to turn her gently, almost tenderly. Derrick's dead eyes looked down at her with mock sympathy.

He tsked. "Oh sweetheart. I thought we were past this."

She fisted her hands to keep them from shaking. "I don't know what you mean," she said softly, somehow managing to keep her words steady.

Derrick breathed a laugh and shook his head, peering down at her sadly. "Tell me something. Did you actually think someone like him would be interested in a little dock whore like you?"

Aella froze. "What?"

"I said," Derrick drawled in a condescending tone, like he was speaking to a child, "did you really think someone like Trevino would be interested in a cum slut like you?"

Something inside her cracked down the middle. Her chest ached. She just stared at Derrick, who seemed to be taking great pleasure in the breaking of her sanity.

"Come here, sweetheart," he crooned, opening his arms. Just four years her senior, Derrick towered over her by more than a foot and a half. Numbly, her feet shuffled her forward of their own accord. He stepped into her, wrapping her into a hug that was just a little too tight, one arm across the middle of her back and the other against her neck. He squeezed her to him to the point of pain.

"You didn't even make it hard for him, did you?" he whispered against her ear. "All he had to do was buy you breakfast, and you were ready to spread your whore legs for him, weren't you?"

Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes as she tried to shake her head. Derrick's arms tightened around her, making it nearly impossible to breathe. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart. We both know you would have offered him your pussy on a platter in that boathouse if he hadn't stopped you."

Tremors were now running up and down the length of her body. Had it all been in her head? That thunderclap of recognition, the impossible chemistry, the little sparks of electricity that combusted in response to his touch... Had she really made it all up?

"Where's Cody?" she rasped, her throat closing around her little brother's name.

"He's not your responsibility anymore, Aella," Derrick said sternly. She started shaking violently.

"Shhhh, I know, I know," Derrick was crooning, placing mockingly gentle kisses to her temple and brow. He'd started rocking her gently from side to side. She should have tried to fight him, but what was the point? There was nothing she could do. Derrick had always won. He would always win.

She knew she'd been taking a huge risk by trying to run again. She also knew that there wouldn't be any more chances. This last crushing blow... She felt deep in her bones that it would be the end of her.

"You know what I have to do now, don't you sweetheart?" She could hear the malevolent glee in his words. She didn't bother answering. His arms relaxed and he slid his palms to her shoulders, pushing her away until he had her at arm's length. "Just know, dear sister, that this will hurt me as much as it will hurt you." He bit his lower lip, and then burst out laughing. The sound was shrill and mean and it sent a chill up her spine. Behind her, waves crashed against the rocky shore. A seagull cried out. A car passed by.

The world around her just continued to exist, ignoring the fact that her life was ending, right there on that little stretch of shoreline.

"Oh god, I couldn't keep a straight face! Oh Aella." His laughter died down, but the amused look on his face remained. "No, it will definitely hurt you much, much worse than it will hurt me. In fact, I don't think it will hurt me at all."

She gave him a blank look. He'd successfully done what it seemed like he'd been trying to do for years now. He'd broken her. What was the point of having a heart if you couldn't trust it? What was the point of having a life if there had never been a chance of happiness?

Derrick lowered his hands from her shoulders, gliding his fingertips down her bare arms until he reached her wrists, all the while staring at her, watching her, drinking in her pain. Finally, he tore his gaze away and nodded at something behind her. Before she had time to react, someone grabbed her from behind, banding an arm across her torso and smothering her startled cry with a sickly-sweet smelling cloth pressed hard over her mouth and nose.

"Sweet dreams, Aella."

...................................................

Trevino stalked back and forth in front of the tiny, rundown boathouse. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. It was two hours past dawn. An hour after she'd supposed to have been there.

He'd been slightly delayed after finding two of his tires slashed. He should have known then. He fucking knew he should have just taken her when he'd had the chance and gone back for Cody later. There was no point waiting around in the hopes she would show up. She wasn't coming. It had all gone wrong, and now she was in her older brother's sadistic hold.

Fuck it. He stalked away from the boathouse and over to his car, pulling out his phone before dialing the memorized number.

"This is Pyle, your devilishly handsome pilot speaking this beautiful morning, ready to jet you off to—"

"Pyle." He gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing as he wrestled down his mounting panic. The pilot was ruthless and a sick son of a bitch who had a huge soft spot for women, children and animals, and normally, he was one of the few Officers he tolerated. Normally.

"Give me the container number."

There was a pause at the other end of the phone before Pyle responded, sobered. "Which one, boss?"

"All of them."

...................................

"Wake up, sweetheart," a familiar voice drawled. Sharp pain bit into the right side of the face. The crack sound of the slap was somehow delayed, like the pause between lightening and thunder. Someone shoved a hand into her hair and pulled, forcing her head up and back. She blinked and groaned. How long had she been out this time? She couldn't even remember at what point she'd lost consciousness.

Drops of crimson blood trailed down from the wrists suspended above her head to her elbow. She was black and blue all over. Her throat ached from screaming and... other things, and she was delirious from a lack of food and water.

Her eyes tried to focus on whoever it was in front of her, the owner of that familiar voice. Everything was blurry and indistinct.

"C-Cody, where's Cody?" God, was that her voice? She sounded like shit. Every word was pain. It was worth it, though, if they would just tell her Cody was okay.

"I already told you, Aella," the voice said in a mocking, saccharine tone. "Cody's gone."

Yes, he'd told her. Every time she'd regained consciousness, he'd told her. What did that mean? Was he hurt? Dead? Did he escape? Did Trevino somehow find him and get him someplace safe?

No. Trevino wouldn't have been waiting for her at the boathouse. He wouldn't be looking for her baby brother. And he certainly wouldn't be looking for her.

Trevino had sold her out.

At first, even when Derrick had let his enforcers (all his enforcers, this time) string her up and take turns with her, she'd convinced herself that it was all just one of her brother's sick games. She'd only had a handful of hours with her dark, familiar stranger, but she hadn't imagined it. Something had passed between them; she was sure of it.

But as the hours (or had it been days? Weeks?) went by, she'd had to surrender the beautiful lie. They'd known too much. They'd all known too much of what had happened. Derrick knew what he'd said to her, and what she'd said to him. He'd known about the plan to meet up with him at the boathouse. They even knew what he had ordered for her at the café. Eventually, she gave in.

She was a desperate, pathetic whore, just as her brother had said. Ready to open her legs for the first male who'd shown her a bit of kindness.

She didn't know how it was possible that her body was still able to create tears, but a fresh barrage of them streamed down her face. "He's... your brother... Derrick.... Please... Where?" It was difficult to pull in enough air to talk.

Derrick just chuckled. "Yes, he's my brother. And you're my sister. Look at yourself, Aella. Look at what being my sister has done for you. Not a whole lot, hmm?"

"Cody..."

"Christ, Aella. Get off it. Cody is gone. Deal with it."

She shook her head. Or, she tried to, but there was still a hand buried in her matted hair, preventing her movement. Dull eyes tried to blink rapidly, to sharpen the image in front of her.

"Yes, sweetheart. He's gone. Just like you'll be gone. See, I'm so fucking tired of dealing with your shit. It makes me look bad, and I can't have that. If you want to be free of me so badly, I'm happy to oblige."

A door opened and shut somewhere in the room. She had no idea where she was or how long they'd been here. Soon, another blurry figure stood in front of her, silently exuding pure, menacing dominance. Her brain half-heartedly tried to figure out if she knew him or not, but she quickly gave up. Nothing in this moment was worth being fully conscious for.

Her brother and this newcomer conversed for a while as her awareness faded in and out. Her body was poked and prodded. Her breasts were fondled, her sex was cupped. She didn't even flinch anymore.

Snippets of their conversation penetrated the fog in her brain. The word virgin was said more than once.

Technically, it was true.

Eventually the voices faded into soft whispers. Soon after, those soft voices became something else. Something deep and dark and rich. His voice. And in this place, between consciousness and sleep, life and death, pain and paralysis; this place where she had nothing and no one, she clung to that voice.

The blurry shapes both turned to look at her. Slowly, they began to fade. "I'll take them both."

"Done." Derrick's voice echoed like a cannon. One obscured figure moved away from her as the other drew closer.

"Hello, beautiful," her new owner murmured as he tipped her head this way and that, looking for defects or permanent damage, she supposed. Her hooded, absent eyes fluttered closed.

"We're going to have so much fun together, baby girl."

Blessed darkness swallowed her up, and she went willingly.

...........................................

Trevino stood in the empty shipping container, shoulders slumped. She was gone. Just... gone. He'd not only checked the three containers Pyle had given him, but the entire yard. There was no sign of her. Sure, he'd found shoddily pieced together beds in some, a stockpile of stolen goods in another, but there was no trace of the little gang of pick pockets. No sign of life among all this corrugated metal and desolate furnishings.

Distracted, it took him a moment to realize the cellphone in his back pocket had started ringing. He pulled it out and answered without looking at the screen.

"Good evening, Asher."

Something about that voice made his blood boil and his upper lip curl into a snarl. There was only one person this could be. Only one person who would have the resources and ability to uncover the name he'd forsaken years ago. "Derrick."

Derrick whistled. "Wow, you really are as clever as she said."

"Where is she?" he seethed, attempting to slow his rapid breathing.

"I haven't the slightest idea, my friend. She and Cody were handed off to a new owner. They could be halfway around the world by now."

Somehow, he was able to keep his voice steady and calm. But just beneath the surface, he was roaring, furious, terrified. "I will find her, Derrick. And then I will find you."

"See, here's the thing, Ash. May I call you Ash? I really don't think you will. I am very good at what I do. Your little army friend is just barely competent. I buried her and Cody, and I can dig a trench for myself to hunker down."

Trevino lashed out, punching a hole into the steel frame of the container, and he knew Derrick had heard him, because the little shit started laughing. "Oh, it was such fun, turning her against you. You'd be happy to know that she held out for a long time. It was only when I repeated your conversation, nearly word for word, that she began to believe you'd set her up. It's quite incredible, the things you discover when you hide a wire on someone who doesn't know she's wearing one."

Trevino was numb. Stoic, even. In that moment, he cut off the remainder of what had made him human. He let it all go, so that nothing was left but pure, deadly intention. "I promise you, Derrick. You can run, you can cover your tracks, you can hide in a fucking hole like the snake you are. But eventually, I will catch up to you. And you'd better pray that I find her before I do. Your life belongs to me now. As does your death."

Derrick laughed again, but it was a strained, nervous laughter. "Bring it on, asshole," he said, and Trevino was pleased at the tremor in his voice.

He cracked his neck from side to side. "Watch your back, Derrick," he snarled. "Your days are numbered."

"I'm coming for you."

He ended the call, crushing it in his grip before letting it fall to the steel floor. The shattered screen crunched under his boot as he walked out. Calmly, he strode back to his car, slipping behind the wheel as the instinctual, predatory part of his brain fully clicked on. Just before he let it take over completely, he reached out, brushing mental fingers across time and space as he felt for the ephemeral starlight of the other half of his soul. He felt her fear and her pain. The tortured, suffocated feeling that came from a complete lack of control. The desolation that came from imprisonment. The drowning guilt that came from too many wrong choices.

He reached out, and grabbed on, letting that soft, warm part of himself settle into a place it would stay until she returned to him.

A place it would always stay.

Miles away, Aella inhaled an inexplicable sense of safety, and exhaled some of her pain, and thought that just maybe, all was not lost.

And just like that, there it was; buried deep within two shadowed souls, a small, bright light flared to life.

Hope.