The Phoenix Prophecy: Nova

Luther and I leave at sunrise. Kole got home at the usual time, just past three a.m., and that’s round about when Tanner stopped talking Nova’s ear off about the history of supernatural punk bands and drove her home to the apartment above the Cross.

Seeing her leave felt strange. Snow didn’t like it, and neither did I.

Whatever Luther thinks of her, it seems to me it would be better if she was under our roof where we could take care of her. But perhaps today will lead to some answers that make me think differently.

Right now, Luther is the only one who doesn’t trust her.

Kole is so strung out when he’s near her that, for him, there’s only one possible answer to who she is; she’s the Phoenix. The key to the prophecy he unearthed when he was so strung out on F.H.B., he barely knew his own name. The prophecy we made him seek.

And Tanner? As much as I’d like to think his dick wouldn’t override his ability to read people, after last night, I’m not so sure. The entire evening, he could barely keep his hands off her. Just a small touch here and there. Nothing extreme. But the connection between them is obvious.

Snow has noticed it too. He approves. I’m not so sure. The last thing I want is Tanner getting hurt.

“How long’s the drive?” Luther asks, settling into the passenger seat. We’ve taken my vintage truck. The beat-up one that I’m hoping will fit right in at Ridgemore.

“Three hours. So, you better settle in.”

I glance at Luther, but he doesn’t show any sign of wanting to settle down for a catnap. Instead, he unlocks his phone and starts reading from a list he’s made. “First port of call is Coulson’s. That’s the pharmacy Nova called.”

“See if we can find out where she lives?”

Luther nods.

“Then what?”

He taps his fingernail on the phone screen, then turns to stare out of the window. “Play it by ear, I guess. Hope we get a lead.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I lift my arm and rest my elbow on the window. “What exactly are you hoping to find here, Luther?”

Without looking at me, he replies, “Answers. I’m hoping for answers.”

We arrive at Coulson’s a little past nine a.m., just as a short blond woman flips the sign to open. I tell Luther to stay in the car. He’s been twitchy as hell since we reached the outskirts of town and saw the A.M.A. insignia spray-painted on the town sign.

Inside, I approach the counter and offer my best smile to the blonde. She’s about Nova’s age, but her appearance does nothing for me.

Skinny. Too much makeup.

“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?”

“Oh.” I make a show of looking behind her toward the back. “I’m usually served by another young lady. About your age…”

The girl behind the counter sucks in her cheeks and fixes a smile on her face. “The redhead? That’s Nova. She doesn’t work here no more.”

Redhead? Our Nova isn’t a redhead. 

“She doesn’t? Oh, dear. I hope she’s all right. She didn’t mention she was leaving.”

The girl’s eyes flicker, and she leans in a little closer. In a hushed voice, she says, “It wasn’t exactly planned. You know that fire? The one at the Mapleton apartment block?”

I nod and sketch ‘Mapleton’ into my memory. “Mm hmm.”

“Well, it hasn’t been in the press or nothing, but the rumor I heard is that Nova started it.”

“Started it?”

“The fire.” The girl is about to continue when a noise from out back makes her stand up straight. A tall, rotund man with thinning hair approaches.

“Everything all right?” he asks, clearly the manager.

“I was just explaining to this gentleman that Nova no longer works here.”

Quick as a flash, the manager adds, “That’s right. We had to let her go. Very unfortunate. What is it you needed her for?”

Rubbing my elbows, I tell them she recommended a cream for joint pain but I can’t remember the name. The manager presents me with three options and I choose the least expensive.

Back in the truck, I gesture for Luther to get out his phone. “Mapleton Apartments.” As he starts to type, I add, “Apparently, there was a fire and they think Nova started it.”