The Phoenix Warrior: The Phoenix Cycle, #1

By Ella Drake

In the outer reaches, facing the imminent destruction of her ship, Captain Anna Voron accepts help from newly-discovered, space-faring phoenix shifters. Their leader awakens dark memories and makes trust impossible but she's out of choices.

Piotr dom Raven lives for duty. And that duty has two goals: become a full phoenix with reincarnation abilities and win a decades-long war threatening to destroy their kind. The intriguing captain of a derelict ship changes everything. His phoenix wants her, but mating a human means permanent death and deserting his command.

The enemy of old has Anna in his sights and Piotr can't stop the years in the diabolical plans set in motion. If Anna can face her past and Piotr can follow his phoenix instincts, they stand a chance to save the endangered crew. But will they find the key to survival in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ella Drake
• Release date: Aug 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386227649

Ella Drake

As a child Ella read books under the covers with a flashlight. There she found a special love of elves, dragons, and knights. Now that she's found her own knight in shining armor and happily ever after, she loves to write tales of fantasy, hot enough to scorch the sheets. No flashlight needed.

Book preview

Chapter One

sun

Geonate Trading Lanes

Geonate New Time, Year 2399

Scored metal slid under her calloused fingers. Too many tick marks. Too many to count. Captain Anna Voron lost track on number fifty. Had she remembered to etch a line yesterday? The first few scratches had held hope, only lightly marring the cold surface. The deep grooves of frustration started at line number twelve, when she’d decided she’d never leave this cell except to endure more violations.

She shifted her crouch, and reminders of the experiments inflicted on her by Belusi’s medical team screamed through her insides. For now, the hollow in her midsection no longer burned. Could there be hope in that small mercy?

Belusi had no mercy, but she’d survive.

Survive?

She laughed at herself.

An empty husk, she whispered. Her cracked lips and dry throat stung. The words hissed in the air and fell unheard in the bare, stark room.

Silent movement vibrated through her, and the door slid open. Through a crack, the light blinded her. Leaving behind the hash marks that grounded her, she covered her eyes, peered through her fingers, and waited for a moment of inattention from her guards.

Get back, hellcat, warned the snide-voiced guard who’d earned a cracked rib before he’d learned to stay away.

A crowd-control prod thrust through the door, and a hand shoved a familiar thin rectangle inside. Skittering on the floor, the box came to a stop against her bare leg. Rations from her ship.

Anna traced the lettering of The Avenger under her roughened pads. The pirates had left nothing aboard before they’d disintegrated her home of five years. Her dreams had blown away in a silent display of fireworks. The vacuum of space stole the sound of those souls dying, making the tragedy seem unreal, a trick of the eye. Alone, with her crew dead, she’d stifled the grief for later.

Turning the ration in her hand, she found the small tab and key. With each twist of the key, a strip peeled back from the container and formed a tight corkscrew. Using the end of the coil from the now opened box, she added a slash to her count on the small area of hard metal flooring that served as her pallet. One meal for each day.

Careful to gauge her exact location in the pitch black, she tossed the key into the corner with the rest. If she were lucky, Belusi’s arrogance over allowing the potential weapons into her cell would be his downfall. Given the opportunity, she’d gut Belusi with the fine edge of the metal strip, but his dehumanizing searches of her person left no room, so she’d not made the attempt.

The snick of air from the pressurized contents echoed in the silent room. Nausea rolled through her with the stale smells of the nutritionally exact synthetic sustenance. Rations never meant to appetize had Anna’s stomach heaving.

Damn, she hissed under her breath.

This reaction during the last several feedings compounded her dread. It all added up. The inability to hold down the pitiable food, her tender breasts, the ache from instruments shoved between her legs with little care, and the shots she’d received by Belusi’s medical man. The only consolation she’d had was that the only thing they’d shoved inside her were horrid medical devices.

Why would Belusi want to reverse her birth control?

Anna shuddered in the dark. She’d never wanted a child. She’d never have a baby forced on her by that monster. Never. If it came to it, she’d use the coiled metal on herself. Better to die than reproduce for a sadistic madman.

Longing—to crawl into the corner, unroll the sharp strip, and end it all—insinuated under her skin. Accustomed to the despair, she anticipated the door sliding open again thirty minutes after her feeding. Or was it an hour? After dropping the tin of food, she stood to face her tormentor.

His form filled the doorway and blocked the light while he slapped a long, cold pipe against his leg. She knew the feel of that pipe. She preferred it over the whip. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, snagging her hand in tangles, she shoved the matted mess behind her ear and spread her stance.

Let’s go, sweet. I do enjoy the fight, but I’d rather skip it today. Come along to the lab like a good girl. But if you want to resist, I’ll give you the daily dance you seem to crave.

Bastard!

Not giving him the satisfaction of her voice, she screamed in her mind. Not one moan, grunt, or word had fallen from her lips in another’s presence after the first day. Not one.

Don’t be angry, sweet. Come out with no struggle, and I won’t hurt you.

Silence descended, interrupted by the slap of the pipe against fabric and her heavy breaths thudding in her ears.

Why don’t you just cooperate? he cajoled, using his softer tactics.

Trying not to hope yet again, she gulped back her sigh of relief. Maybe he wouldn’t beat her this time. Or maybe he’d turn moods on a dime. It could go either way. Always bundling her to the tech lab and strapping her down to a table, he never informed her of her fate, or his use for her. He never interrogated her for names, operations, or details of Nex actions.

At thirty, she was young to command a Nex crew of fifty. She’d tracked the notorious corsair Caesar Belusi through the Geonate space lanes and into the Outer Reaches—where she had no authority but what she could enforce on her own. His brigantine, outfitted with the latest thrusters and illegal weapons had crippled her ship, and he’d shown no mercy. The only woman, the lone survivor.

And he’d never asked a single question.

Come out. Let’s get you cleaned up. The stench in there almost puts me in mind to space your carcass.

She stifled her snort of derision.

The hulking man moved into the room, and Anna tensed, debating her chances of getting in at least one good kick to the jaw. On a level playing field, she could take on anyone. With no family or friends to visit on her breaks at Nex Academy, she’d spent the time honing her martial skills. The prevailing fighter in any battle, she could best anyone in her class.

He was better.

Bastard.

Slap. Slap. Belusi closed the distance until his rapid intakes of air turned her already sour stomach. She’d heard that cadence in her ear too many times to mistake his hunger for a fight. He knew her exact location. She’d never understood how he could see so clearly in the dark.

Sensing the movement too late to move, she clamped her mouth shut and bit her tongue. He gripped her breast in a painful crush. Screaming in her mind, she kept her knees from buckling, but she couldn’t prevent the bile rising in the back of her throat. She blinked back the pain, gulped in the stale air, and managed to keep a small amount of her dignity.

The corsair had never touched her sexually, but now he gentled and cupped her, hefting the weight of her in his hand. Begging the stars not to have her endure this last debasement, she stood and waited. Struggling against his less painful ministrations did not help her cause.

Sweet, I think you already breed.

Bastard, her voice croaked from disuse and the burning of her throat.

Cringing inwardly, she pressed her lips together. Why had she spoken? Stupid move to give him anything.

He could decide to keep her instead of offloading her to slavers if she didn’t cooperate. She’d clung to that small light in unrelenting dark. A slaver would have no chance in keeping her imprisoned.

Ah, she speaks, he chuckled good-naturedly. I am to be a daddy. I believe I’ll keep you.

His words crept up to nearly choke the breath from her. Though she’d hoped otherwise, he’d used his own DNA for whatever his team had implanted in her. Hope fizzled and died in her like a star winking out in the distance, dead and cold.

She had to get out of here. She was done with the Nex. Why had they left her here to rot?

Slap. Slap.

The pipe batted against his own leg before the cold pressed against her thigh without the usual force. The cruel weapon outlined her side, sliding up and down her torso.

Yes, you breed. We’ll get you some clothes, sit down to talk, and eat a decent meal. A man and the mother of his child should show their unity.

Anna’s gut clenched.

A boom reverberated through her, so closely mirroring her upheaval, she didn’t understand at first.

The floor fell beneath her feet.

When the ship rocked, knocking her into a heap, she squatted there, afraid her tattered defenses would bring her to the floor again. The pipe crashed and clanked on the deck. Belusi cursed, turned, and sprinted through the door.

The ship shuddered. Anna smiled. Not only did Belusi’s Pride take laser fire, but its concerned leader had left her cage open.

Stumbling to her feet, she spared a scant thought to wish for clothes and lunged for the open door. She failed to reach it. The entire cell slanted to the side. She crashed into the metal grating of the wall before she could crawl toward the light.

The world shook. Crashes and thuds sounded through the hollow corridors. Melting plastizine smoke burned her eyes, filled her nostrils, and stung the back of her throat. Desperate, and clinging to the small perforations in the floor, she struggled to her hands and knees to make her way to the door. A crack of thunder rolled through the hall, and she strained with all her might to escape through the portway.

Shards exploded around her and scraped across her arms. A white-hot slice cut across her torso. She fell, prostrate in the doorway, and the now-familiar iron smell of blood coated her. Lungs heaving, she stared down the hallway toward escape. Her vision narrowed on that last hope of freedom. With all her effort, she struggled, but captivity had taken its toll, and the fall to the floor had torn low through her back. Her weak legs refused to listen to her silent cajoling to work. To run.

Bright light surrounded an ethereal form. An angel filled the corridor. Beautiful shimmering sparks warmed Anna and took away the shivers running through her body. She curled into herself to cradle her mutinous legs.

When the creature moved near her with lethal grace, and a wickedly sharp beak lunged toward her, she realized her mistake. It was no angel. Unable to move, she watched death descend before her vision blacked.

This was what it was like to die. She welcomed the oblivion.

*

Curled into a ball on her side, half-in and half-out of her prison, the thin, badly beaten girl lay on the grate floor. Black, matted hair covered her face, and the pale skin of her naked body shone through the purple bruises and grime, but the angry welts and enflamed open cuts on her back worried him. Obviously an abused prisoner, she did not belong to the crew they’d hunted for the past weeks.

The small and stark cell would not quite contain his avian eight-foot height if he were to lie across the small room. With wire mesh covering the walls, floor, and ceiling, most likely to prevent escape, the confinement could only have added to her misery. It must have been cold, dark, and lonely. Add to that the cruelty of abuse. How long had she endured?

Piotr, a call beckoned in his mind, but he ignored the summons for a moment.

His large body cramped in the small corridor, he remained with the girl. Unaccountably concerned with her welfare and unable to leave her inert form, he leaned toward her. Her breath barely moved her chest.

With her midnight dark hair and delicate body, she reminded him of the carnage wreaked on the Raven Aerie. Their lives torn from them, women and children had littered the ground. Though he’d only been a youth himself, he’d wanted to stay and fight to defend his mother and siblings. His mother had made him run and elicited his promise to avenge her death. He’d not looked back.

Despite the atrocities he’d seen since, each as horrific as the last, he’d never forgotten. His need for vengeance grew with each loss. He would avenge this girl’s pain as well.

At the rustling movement in the tight hallway, he turned toward his fellow hunter. He forced his mind back to his mission, a calling that ruled his life to the exclusion of all else.

Yes, Ivan? Piotr responded through their mind link.

They’re all dead, except the captain. We have him contained for questioning.

The young man’s hulk filled the space and his menacing energy crackled darkly around him. Ivan’s sharp beak caught in the light and Piotr had a moment of regret that the younger man—usually quick with a retort that made him seem as if he never took their assignments quite seriously enough—came through with a deadly vengeance.

Bring him here, to his own prison cell.

What of the girl? When Ivan cocked his head to the side and nodded in her direction, fury surged through Piotr.

I will take care of her.

His raptor body glowing hot-white, except along his crimson breast markings, Ivan nodded his regal head and glided out of the hall.

Bending as close as he could in the tight space, Piotr forced his mind back to that time, to the searing pain he’d thought would kill him when he’d found his mother’s body. He’d mourned then to no avail. He’d not shed a tear since. Concentrating on the hollow emotion, he tried to will the moisture from his eyes. He grunted with the effort, and his warble echoed in the small cell. Unable to cry since that day, he could not do so now. He could not give the girl the healing liquid. She wouldn’t need much. Her injuries did not threaten her life, but he could not call forth even one lone tear.

He gave up.

Sands of energy dispersed, sliding and rolling into a new form as the electrical static of his change washed over him. When his glow dimmed, he wished to be back in his light form, for the dark descended on the girl. She whimpered.

No help for it. In his pure energy state, she might be frightened if she regained awareness. Now, if she opened her eyes—something he wished for with his entire being—he would appear as human as she.

He picked her up, her emaciated form easy to cradle against his chest. Bare skin to bare skin. Awareness surged across his arms, lifting the fine hairs, but he ignored it.

She groaned, and tortured blue eyes pierced through him before her black lashes fluttered to rest on her pale cheek. Not sure if she’d actually obtained clear vision, his heart lurched into a rapid beat before her body went limp in his arms. She’d passed out again. What had she seen?

Perhaps it would be best if she remained unconscious and didn’t remember her rescuers. Yes, it would be best if they took her to the nearest outpost for medical care as quickly as possible. They didn’t need a human woman slowing them down. He didn’t need the burden.

He had enough of his own.

*

Lotus-9. Geonate New Time, Year 2402

Mission: Day 1

The dreaded words still rang in her ears.

I need a favor.

Right. A favor that put Anna back on duty, out of her early retirement, and away from her new peaceful life as a cargo freighter captain. At least those words had ended a long, torturous stay in paradise, more commonly known as vacation. The sealed missive with further details awaited her onboard.

They’re some sort of space-faring birds. I have one on board, but I can’t verify anything about her people—she’s never appeared to be anything but human to me. But there have been sightings. Caught on vid, Admiral Ryan said, her blunt cut blonde hair swinging at her chin when she shook her head. Not sure what’s going on out there. Or what kind of aliens these are, other than they don’t appear to wish us harm. Closest we’ve ever come to aliens are the Scoriah, but they were created in a laboratory. In my mind, they’re as Geonate as you or I. But we’ve started a relationship with these space birds, and the pirate attacks in their quadrant threaten that.

The words from her former commander caused a flicker of memory that she quickly squelched. Three years of forgetting, and she still had flashes of a bright angel avenger. She shoved that thought aside, too.

Anna didn’t believe the reports, even if her friend now verified them, but she would check it out. She owed Ryan that much. Her then-commander had released her from duty. Honorable discharge, five years before Anna’s service term ended. As far as Anna knew, she’d been the only one to retire in the history of the covert-ops organization. But for now, the full mission brief would have to wait. Anna had to leave berth to fetch her crew at the Hitchhiker, where they no doubt enjoyed the ritual sendoff before every cargo run. She never participated in the revelry. She preferred to wait aboard The Venture, docked on Lotus-9, the station that orbited Jacaranda.

Anna always came back to Jacaranda, to the small grave she could never quite leave behind, though she tried. A quick shake of the head dispelled those dark memories of the fragile baby laid to rest there, and the guilt. Her mood dipped toward morose too frequently today.

Three months of planetary leave on colony Jacaranda had been enough, but two days on station Lotus-9 was too much. Packed to the brim with rough spacers and dockers, she was still relieved to get back to the station after the shuttle from the surface had been crowded, noisy, and bumpy. Old, with haphazard and ugly expansions, Lotus-9 had spotty thermo controls and a confusing layout. Being in the crowds on-planet or on-station should have included hazard pay, but being her own boss made that impossible. Anna counted the hours until she could leave. Despite the favor she had to deal with, she relished the opportunity to leave this cesspit, a month earlier than standard Geonate regs allowed.

After a few last minute arrangements, Anna headed to the Hitchhiker, a pub frequented by spacers shipping in and out. Close to their berth, the Hitchhiker made a convenient locale for her crew to say their goodbyes to Lotus-9. Another lure attracted her women—the Valor’s card tables.

Past the cavernous recreational docking area where stacked honeycombs were filled by cranes hoisting ships, Anna stopped at the first establishment outside the craft bays.

A bit rough around the edges, the Hitchhiker’s décor reflected its aged and tattered patrons with mismatched tables and chairs and lighting dim enough to leave everything to the imagination. No frills. No wall art or floor coverings. In a spaceport, all the furniture could be moved and then attached to the floor with pressure clamps, but this bar kept all furniture locked down permanently. When fighting broke out, chairs were not broken over some poor sucker’s head.

Anna found her first officer, Len Tarasova, leaning against a wall practicing her charm on a walking, talking, testosterone-laden docker. Dark and compact, Len looked small next to the blond man who oozed muscles and sexual confidence. Unlike the trendy styles flaunted by most Geonate, this man had obviously not kept the plastie technicians busy. His nose was crooked with an unrepaired break, and he had a scar on his cheek. His imperfections made him seem like a man used to a brawl. Steering clear of the large man, Anna scouted for Hailey instead and found her at the card table.

The Venture’s communication officer, Hailey, boasted several melds in front of her with cards face up on the table.

Nice point potential. With all nearby chairs taken, Anna leaned against a column at Hailey’s back.

Hailey smiled crookedly over her shoulder. These boys don’t stand a chance.

A few grunts from nearby dockers answered the taunt.

Sporting shaggy blond hair streaked with pink, a look that had many assuming she was a young cadet, Hailey turned back to the card table, giving Anna the opportunity to watch Len’s not so subtle moves on the hulking docker.

When Len walked out of the bar with her new friend, the bottom of Anna’s stomach dropped. She reminded herself that Len not only took care of herself, but she could be considered a menace. Her stomach still clenched. She couldn’t listen to her own reasoning.

Anna tried to relax her rigid body and follow Hailey’s card strategy, but she watched Hailey’s back, mentally plotting escape plans should things turn ugly. The men at the table, rangy mechanics in white static-resistant jumpers, would be easy enough to handle.

At the hour mark, Len still hadn’t returned. Anna’s mind slipped to her time as a Nex, when they’d tried to expand the Geonate rule of law into the Outer Reaches. Her experience in the harsh, unbridled world of spacers left her with the assurance that it took scant moments to hurt someone. To ruin a life. And Len had been gone over an hour.

Hailey turned her keen blue eyes on Anna. She’ll be back soon.

A ripple in the crowd interrupted Anna’s response, and she spotted the large burly man return, a grin on his face. He slapped a comrade on the back in obvious good humor.

There she is. Anna held her hand up toward Len, but before she could call out to her, a flash of pink hair leaving the bar