The Phoenix Keeper by S. A. MacLean

Author:S. A. MacLean [, S. A. MACLEAN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2024-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

This was a disaster. An unqualified tragedy. Proof that romance was an overblown sham.

Oh, and also Aila’s phoenixes were fighting.

She dropped her phone to the counter, ignoring Connor’s latest text message. Like a coward, she’d spent another two weeks avoiding him. At least she had an excuse. For two weeks, every minute of free time had gone toward convincing Rubra to tolerate Carmesi’s presence.

Not going well.

Aila slumped with her head in her hands and elbows propped on the counter, staring out the observation window into the phoenix exhibit. She’d tried letting them acclimate in the side-by-side aviaries, but Rubra cackled like a mad bird whenever she could see the intruder. Next, Aila tried setting Carmesi outside in his carrier while Rubra was on exhibit, but Rubra dropped olive branches onto the box until it was hidden from sight. For her last, most aggressive attempt, Aila released both birds out on exhibit at once, monitored to make sure they didn’t attack each other.

Rubra perched in one corner of the aviary, feathers puffed. Carmesi crouched on the opposite side, trying to hide in a corner. Whenever he dared move, Rubra chirped in agitation.

“Rubraaaa,” Aila moaned, channeling the heartbreak of a parent whose child refused to play well with others. In this case, the fate of a species depended on that stubborn child. She dropped her head to the cold metal countertop, listening to the rhythmic crunch and tap of Tanya chopping food in the kitchen.

Luciana was late. Again.

As if angst over Connor and uncooperative phoenixes weren’t already turning Aila’s hair grayer in the bathroom mirror each morning, that griffin show witch insisted on breathing down her neck. We have another request for an interview, Aila. You need to get these phoenixes comfortable with each other, Aila. Like the solution was as simple as flailing her arms over a candlelit ritual circle.

Aila had a couple of scented candles at home, birthday gifts from her mother. Cranberry spice. Vanilla latte. Not exactly cult materials.

For the third time that week, Luciana had demanded Aila meet her at the phoenix complex. For the third time that week, she didn’t have the decency to show up on time. Some PR specialist. When the door finally opened, Aila swiveled in her chair with a weaponized scowl, prepared to give Luciana a piece of her mind.

Connor stood in the doorway. Aila deflated like a popped balloon.

“Oh. Hello,” she squeaked, not unlike their early meetings.

Skies and seas, he was as handsome as ever, especially with that concerned furrow to his brow. The languid curl of hair against his temple. Focus, Aila. Be strong.

“Morning, Aila. Do you have a minute?”

In the kitchen, Tanya’s chopping came to an abrupt halt. She appeared in the doorway with eyes narrowed and knife brandished. Connor reacted with fitting alarm.

“What do you want, Connor?” Tanya demanded. “We’re busy over here.”

“Yeah, Aila’s told me, very busy with the introduction.” He moved to the observation window. “How are the phoenixes?”

The trepidation in his voice snared Aila all over again.

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