Heart of the Phoenix

  Indigo Love Stories

  An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

  Publishing Company

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 101

  Columbus, MS 39703

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  Copyright© 2007 by A.C. Arthur

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-554-1

  ISBN-10: 1-58571-554-9

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition

  Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0

  DEDICATION

  To Felicia D. Booth for your continued love and support.

  “…In the beginning there was Chaos, vast and dark…”

  -Hesiod, 8th Century BC

  Chapter 1

  Tayla Hampton’s heart suddenly began to thump so loudly that the sound echoed in her ears. The student log she’d been engrossed in blurred; her eyes refused to focus on the Excel document. She squinted, to no avail; the lettering twisted into swirling black lines. Panic soared through her, an ugly trait she’d learned to push away and shove into its corner where it belonged. Her life was her own, her destiny sealed by her actions. Nothing and no one would ever dictate her decisions again.

  With fierce determination she rose from her chair, circled the desk and stood at the floor to ceiling windows of her office. The view was breathtaking. Mountains stretched endlessly before creating a seamless connection with the sky. Thousands of feet below, the Snake River churned tons of water into the Columbia with careless fervor. It was heaven, her sanctuary from the world that had disappointed her.

  Years ago she’d met a man and fallen in love. He was supposed to be her protector, her lover, her friend. Instead he’d introduced her to a world of lies and manipulation. She’d lived that way for as long as she could. And then she’d escaped.

  She’d come here two years ago, on the run, seeking shelter in the solitude of Grayson Moore Academy, a private elementary school nestled deep within the Blue Mountains of Washington. She was a city girl, born and bred, so nobody would ever think to look for her here.

  Every now and then she wondered if he’d found her, though she’d taken great care to get lost and stay lost. She’d changed her last name, her physical appearance, her occupation. Everything she was now was drastically different from what she had been when she was with him. It had been two years since she’d left, and now fear—no, not exactly—foreboding snaked up her spine, wrapping around her neck until she felt her throat tightening, her breath slipping slowly from her.

  Then there was a knock at the door.

  Had she been a foot closer she would have jumped through the high, clear-paned windows. A hand to her throat, she turned to the closed door, wondering who or what stood on the other side.

  They wouldn’t find her. They couldn’t. They probably wouldn’t look. But she knew that last thought was a lie. The Raniers were a strong and influential family. They didn’t take kindly to anyone betraying them or leaving their fold. And she had done just that. She’d packed her bags, filed for divorce and tried her damnedest to leave that family and their evil nature behind.

  Finally she decided that Jerome was not the one at the door. He would never believe she’d be content here. After all, he presumed to know what was best for her.

  Shedding the fear, she commanded her legs to move toward the thick oak door with its intricate moldings. Her hand reached for the once-gold knob, turned it and then wrenched the heavy door open.

  * * *

  He’d smelled her. It was the scent of mating, the odor of sex, pure and simple. And while Thaddeus was keenly aware of his duty and purpose in coming to Grayson Moore Academy, that didn’t keep the baser instincts from prickling at him. With each breath he felt her seeping inside, filling the holes and gaps left from a lonely existence far away. This was his life’s destiny—his final assignment.

  His feet ached a bit in these shoes that shined beneath the lighted ceiling. The dress pants hung over his muscled thighs like the smooth sheets back home. He’d grown accustomed to the restricting buttons of the shirt, the tight knot of the tie, and no longer pulled at the garments with distaste.

  It was imperative for everyone’s safety that he fit in. But when the time came, his appearance, his purpose, would be revealed.

  He’d prepared himself for this task, just as he had for the others, speaking the language repeatedly until his accent had all but vanished. They’d sent him to save her even though it was against his very being, against the legend of his kind. But that was only half of who he was. Danger was coming, and he would be there to meet it head-on, to give life a chance to renew, to rejuvenate. It was his duty.

  They preyed on her, had for some time now. He was not allowed the details, only told that she could not die. And that was enough.

  She was fretful, and as strong as her mating call to him was, he sensed something beneath it, something primal that honed in on him specifically. Yet he didn’t have time to give it further thought. Giving her a moment to regain the control he knew she possessed, he stood at the door, waiting.

  Instead, he felt despair and worry clawing at her, pushing against the protective barrier she’d raised, barking intensely. He knocked. Disturbing whatever it was that haunted her with a simple act saved her.

  He was used to beauty, had seen it for years in many shapes and forms. It did not faze him. A pretty face, an awesome aura—none of it had any impact on him.

  Yet this tall woman, with her curvaceous form, glistening golden eyes, hair long and flowing like flames, lips plump and kissable, irrefutably stirred something he’d thought long dead. That both confused and angered him. But he would not let that show.

  Her hand hovered over the knob as she assessed him in one long sweep.

  “Thaddeus Delos.” He stepped into the office, uninvited yet arrogantly sure of his place, brushing lightly past her on his way. “I am the new history teacher.”

  He was at her desk, his backside resting against the massive oak, arms crossed, watching her when she turned.

  A handsome face did nothing for her—not anymore—since that was what had gotten her into trouble the first time. She closed the office door and took a couple of steps until she was standing directly in front of him. “Tayla Hampton. I thought you were arriving tomorrow.”

  No, she wasn’t affected by the sharp curve of his jaw, the chiseled outline of his chest, the scent…what was that? It wasn’t cologne, and not the natural scent of masculinity. It was something different, something simple yet unique.

  The sea, she thought instantly. He smelled like the sea.

  So what? That didn’t matter either. He was just a man, and all men were liars.

  Then he tilted his head, his eyes dark for a moment, then luminescent with a spark of crimson. His long, dark dreads were pulled back from his face. He had a different, foreign look that intrigued her. He was a big man, more than six feet tall and wide like a linebacker. He looked wild and untamed, although his clothes were neat and stylish.

  Over his shoulder outside the window the
sky, a few moments earlier serene, was now an angry gray as it grew turbulent with clouds heavy with rain.

  “I was needed tonight,” he stated simply.

  Needed. That word struck a chord.

  “No. Actually, I distinctly remember telling you Monday was fine.” Her heart rapped against her chest, but she refused to move. Although he was quite formidable, and a virtual stranger, he wasn’t making her nervous. She refused to allow that.

  Thaddeus heard her speaking, watched the way her deep blue skirt floated around her legs like tiny ripples on a stream. She wasn’t what he’d expected, and then again she was. He’d sensed something exceptional about her but had tried to dismiss it. Now, face to face, he knew that Tayla Hampton would not easily be dismissed. Her eyes were intriguing, pulling him in. The smooth skin of her cheeks, framed by the flame-colored hair, appealed to him on a level he’d yet to acknowledge. He didn’t think twice, simply reached out, and twisted strands of her hair around his fingers. “Like fire,” he mumbled. “The exact color of fire.”

  She frowned and moved, just barely, out of his reach. To move too far, too fast, would show that he’d gotten to her, that she was leery or afraid. She was neither. “I am the principal of Grayson Moore Academy. I have three hundred students and fifty-five staff members. I run a pretty tight ship around here, and at no time is touching allowed.” She said the last pointedly, her words crisp in the intensely warm atmosphere.

  He smiled.

  Her fists tightened at her sides. She was not affected by that smile.

  “I’ll get your keys and show you to your room. You can fill out all the appropriate paperwork tomorrow.”

  Moving to the other side of her desk, Tayla fought off the salt-water aroma attempting to seep into her system. Retrieving the keys from her drawer, she looked up, finding herself only inches away from the source of that enthralling scent and the owner of that smile.

  He closed a hand over hers, transferring the key into his palm. “Where I come from fire is used to cleanse, to purify.” He held on to her hand, giving a little pull. “I am ready to see my room.”

  Tayla couldn’t ignore the heat shooting from where their palms met up her arms and down through her chest. Heat that spread from his body to hers stinging through her bloodstream. Her body tensed. It was weird, this feeling she was experiencing. It was new and indescribable, but it was definitely there, something that touched her beyond the physical, beyond the clasping of their hands. It reached deep, planting itself firmly inside her body, making itself at home.

  That was insane.

  She pulled her hand away from his and walked out of the room, not turning back to see if he followed because she knew that he did. He moved quietly, no sound of shoes clicking on the marbled floors, no breathing, no rush of clothing. But she felt his presence as if he’d always been there.

  The staff quarters were in a separate building of the mountaintop estate. It was Sunday, and nearing seven-thirty, so the students were already in their dorms for the night. Tayla led him through long, high-ceilinged hallways, down winding stairs and through the massive front doors of Grayson Moore.

  Once outside she inhaled the crisp autumn breeze, tilting her head to survey the dark heavy clouds above. “There’ll be a storm soon,” she announced.

  “That is why I am here.”

  Her head snapped around. His voice was deep, resonating through her with a low hum. His English was stilted, as if it were a secondary language. He looked even darker here out in the open with the mountaintop backdrop. His fierce eyes glared at her and she hurriedly looked away. Pursing her lips, she decided to ignore his strange remark. There was much she wanted to ignore about this man. The sooner she got him to his room, the better.

  Thaddeus followed along the wide path through a thin strand of trees. He could have taken himself to his room. He already knew where it was. He’d walked these grounds and the miles surrounding them, familiarizing himself with his surroundings. To protect her he would need to be aware of everything between her and her hunter.

  She walked quickly, like a woman used to the rough terrain of twigs and rocks and dirt. Once she stumbled, probably from walking so fast and her growing apprehension about him. He reached out, grabbed her arms, held her steady. The moment she was stable she pulled away, distrust pooling in those sparkling eyes.

  She was a mortal. He’d never before seen a mortal with eyes that color. Like small pieces of topaz, they glittered and simmered, giving away all of her secrets, most of them at least. She definitely did not want to be around him. An ordinary man might be offended by that, but he was no ordinary man.

  Through the clearing a single level structure came into sight. Doors with numbers on them were the only traces that this rectangular building was not one unit. He knew that his was number ten, but followed her lead. Somehow he sensed that she would not be pleased by the fact that he’d toured the grounds without her. He would not like being enclosed in this small place but would have to make do for now.

  He’d touched her again, after she’d told him there was to be no touching. She wanted to fire him, to tell him he was being dismissed for insubordination, but knew that would have been a lie and it would be cowardly. The fact that she hadn’t been this close to an attractive man in two years had nothing to do with school business. Besides, she needed a history teacher desperately or her fifth graders would leave here next year not knowing a thing about the world. The one thing she knew was that she would be keeping a safe distance from Mr. Delos and his intoxicating smell.

  She’d kept her back to him all the way over here and, thankfully, with a few more steps she’d see him in and be on her way. She wouldn’t have to deal with him again until tomorrow. Tomorrow classes would start. She’d have a few minutes with him to go over his paperwork and then he’d be on his way, and out of hers.

  She was so busy with her own thoughts, walking so assuredly toward unit number ten that she forgot one of the first rules of living at nature’s mercy: pay attention. Before her foot could land with another step she heard the hissing and froze.

  Thaddeus, who was only two steps behind her, heard the sound as well. His eyes fell to the ground, where a three-foot long snake slithered into their path. He’d seen firsthand the deadliness of these creatures and hurried to Tayla’s side, pushing her behind him.

  “Wait—” She tried to speak but his broad back blocked her view. His thick arm reached backward around her waist so that she remained still.

  With his free hand Thaddeus reached for the weapon sheathed at his hip. His fingers warmed around the hilt, power seeping through his body.

  Tayla squirmed until she was rid of his hold, only to be stopped again by the sight before her. Her new history teacher stood, legs spread slightly apart, with bulging muscles that she would swear had grown since she’d first glimpsed him in her office. His hands were at his sides, one holding something…something that glowed in the growing dark of night.

  The intense purple and gold brightness coming from that thing he held in his hand spread around him, outlining his huge form. Her mouth opened, then closed abruptly. It was the air, the mountain mist playing tricks on her. She’d lived in this virtual wilderness long enough to know that sometimes things weren’t always as they appeared.

  In the distance she heard a rustling of bushes. Her head turned in that direction and she spied the culprit. Before going in that direction she turned back to the history teacher whose arm was now raised, that shining thing sparkling as the wind around them picked up, whipping his hair and the leaves around him in the process. She shivered once, then took a step closer, lifting a hand to his shoulder.

  The heat emanating from him was intense, scorching her fingers before she could even touch him. With a yelp she jumped back, starring down at her scorched palm. “Mr. Delos!” she screamed just as he took a step toward the snake.

  Through the flurry of emotion Thaddeus heard her voice, heard the high feminine pitch laced with fear and tu
rned, lowering his weapon. When he faced her, her look of sheer shock attacked his senses. He had made a mistake. He felt the heat, the warm familiar sensation of it on his neck, down his back, and knew she did not understand.

  He would explain. Rather, he would make something up so that she would understand. Thaddeus cursed to himself, put his weapon back into his belt and waited while his body cooled. He’d overreacted. In his haste to protect her he’d acted without thinking, possibly blowing his cover before he’d had a chance to defuse the problem he’d come to handle.

  He attributed his impulsive act to the shifting of his insides, the unmistakable feeling of making himself available to emotions, emotions that were too dangerous to contemplate. But that was what this woman incited in him. He could not explain why, and would have to reserve that thinking for a later time.

  But first he needed to take care of that snake before it hurt her. Suddenly a small person appeared a few feet away, curious eyes wide and alert.

  “I…I’m…ah…sorry, Ms. Hampton.” Montepelier Sturdivant, Monty for short, stood at the rim of the trees watching the adults in awe.

  Tayla finally managed to tear her eyes away from her hand and the strange man standing before her to look at one of her more mischievous students. “Come here, Monty.” She rubbed her palms together to soothe the now mild burning.

  Little feet shuffled through the fallen leaves and twigs. Around him the sky darkened even more, giving him a vulnerable appearance.

  “How many times have I told you about keeping Igor in his cage? Some people in the school are afraid of snakes,” she said, casting a pointed look at the history teacher.

  Monty shifted from one tennis shoe to the other. “Um…You’ve told me a lot of times.” Nervously he looked at the stranger. “Sorry.”

  Thaddeus, who had been watching the stern but compassionate way Ms. Hampton handled the child, now shifted his attention to the small boy with the dark skin. His hair was cut close to his head, and his eyes, still huge with disbelief as they stared up at him, were like lumps of coal.