Burning Fire

Chapter 1 - First sight

Phoenix scooped up her luggage into her arm and stood still for a moment trying to get her bearings as she stood in front of the wrought iron gates of the L’Enfre mansion. For a minute she seemed to have lost her nerve; her legs seemed to be urging her to run as fast and far as she could away from this building. She stood for a second and took a shuddering breath, trying to restore her usually iron nerves. She barely reached for the digital phone attached to the gate when the mansion opened and from the foggy entrance emerged three men.

 An extremely tall man seemed to be flanked by two others who were almost as wide as she was tall, and seeing that she was rather short, that wouldn’t usually mean much except these men where nothing like she had ever seen before. They had beefy arms as thick as her entire body and had dull, expressionless, hawk-like eyes. Despite their stocky bodies, they moved swiftly and with the grace often seen on a ballerina; they were truly terrifying.

Once again, the thought of running flickered into her mind, although this time much diminished by the presence of the man that was leading the trio across the vast expansion between the house and the gate.   The man leading the trio was nothing like the other two. Where they were beefy with short legs and no expression, he was lean and tall, with a welcoming smile plastered on his face and he studied everything with cunning eyes that were rapidly darting around as if trying to take in everything he saw. He had dark hair and stunning amber eyes that resembled the embers of a great fire. But the fire did not light when he smiled . . . his eyes remained icy cold and calculating. While this man might not be built to crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, he was definitely the most dangerous of the trio and Phoenix instantly recognised him from the scorched piece of photo she had found under her mother’s bed.

L’Enfre was a very distinctive man- he looked around thirty but Phoenix knew that he was much older than that. How much older was a mystery to her and to the world it seemed; even her mother in her drunk tantrums had not been able to tell her how old the man she had shacked up with actually was.

Phoenix took a steadying breath as she studied the forms that rapidly approached her. Her eyes darted from the two bulky men back to him as if sizing them all up for a fight.

L’Enfre stood in front of her, taking his time as he studied her carefully. He watched as the girl studied him, her eyes narrowing as she took in his bodyguards that stood a little way away from him. He scrutinized as she dismissed his guards and glued her eyes on him; he saw with some satisfaction as her eyes labeled him dangerous.

 It seemed that there was more sense in this girl than most of the people he has met in his long, long life. He knew that in this instant, where she stood barely five feet tall, the girl had realised a great deal more about him than some of those that had known him for several lifetimes.

She was a tiny thing; he had to crane his neck down to stare at her and her exuberantly red hair that reminded him of her mother. In her amber eyes, he saw every day in his own mirror. He studied her frame for a second longer taking in her squared shoulders and intelligent eyes and he knew without question that she was his indeed; no mistakes there and in that moment Gabriel L’Enfre became a father to an eighteen-year-old daughter he never knew even existed.

Gabriel reached for the suitcase she had slung over her shoulder and signaled his guards to take the rest.

There was an awkward silence when neither of them knew what to say before Phoenix smiled a small smile and whispered, “Hello,” her voice almost too soft to be heard. She cleared her throat before saying in a more confident voice, “Hi.”

She has a husky kind of voice and he knew exactly where he had heard it before. He smiled wistfully before replying. “Hi.”

He watched her study him with the same fascination that must’ve been displayed on his face. She laughed as the awkward moment stretched to minutes, neither seeming to know what to say to the other. He led her into the house and for a full five minutes she was distracted with the house, giving Gabriel time to think about what to say to the child he never knew he had.

He thought of every possible angle in which to approach her but by the time her eyes had finished wondering the walls of his house he still didn’t know what to say to say to a teenager.

He motioned the girl to sit but she remained standing and begun pacing as she said,

“So you are my father, ha.”

There was awe in her voice, as if she still couldn’t believe it. He didn’t blame her- he couldn’t believe that he had an almost fully-grown daughter.

“Yeah,” he whispered and they both laughed at the same time as if to ease the silence that stretched between them.

“This is weird.” she said as she paced faster. “I mean, I knew I had a father somewhere in the world but Mom never said anything about you. She got really upset if I asked her anything but this,” she took a deep, steadying breath before she continued. “This is strange. I mean, you look like my older brother not . . . not my father.”

Gabriel laughed at that. “Trust me; I am much older than I look.”

She snorted at that. “That much she mentioned.” For a second, she froze mid-pace, her eyes getting a faraway look that he had often seen on her mother’s face.  She suddenly laughed as if a thought had just occurred to her. She smiled, tiny white teeth showing as she looked back at him.

“It just occurred to me that I haven’t really introduced myself. I am Kara Phoenix Taylor.”

 She starched out her arm to him and he couldn’t help but smile. He stretched out his arm and covered her tiny hands with his and said, “I am Gabriel L’Enfre.” He shook her hand.

He took his arm back as she mumbled to him “Is it me or does this feel seriously awkward? ‘Cause let’s face, it I have so much to say to you. I can’t be sure where to start, so for now I have nothing to say to you. Does that make sense?” she smiled sheepishly at him.

He smiled back and told her that he knew exactly what she meant.

That night, after the awkward conversation with her father . . . . Father. That word. Phoenix pondered over that word.

 “Father.” She said gently to the darkened ceiling of her bedroom. “Dad.” She tried again.

The words felt alien. She never had a father before and the discovery of this particular father had been rather strange. She thought over the past couple of weeks. It had started with the death of her mother, but that was just the beginning. The discovery of her mother’s diary with L’Enfre’s name and old address led to her knowing exactly who her father was.

Of course, her mother’s refusal to speak of her father had been the only reason Phoenix had never gone looking for her father. As it was, she had nowhere to go after her mother’s death and she had forced herself to search for her father. This had been surprisingly easy, especially with the fact that after her mother’s death, a letter had been delivered to their small flat with her father’s name, address and phone number in a letter addressed to her.

The letter had shocked Phoenix to her core. The existence of her father was one thing, but the fact that her mother knew his whereabouts the whole time while keeping this information from her made her truly angry, but her mother was never the rational type. She probably had some kind of reason that made sense in her mind to keep the secret.

Phoenix shook her head and reread the letter. What did she mean that her life would never be the same? Of course her life was not going to be the same, she was probably living with a rich, pompous bastard, or the said pompous bastard might not even accept her after all these years.

Her mother had always been the strange type, but this was off the charts. She didn’t understand what she meant by ‘it wouldn’t be wise to explain in a letter.’ Explain what? And if she didn’t explain in person or in a letter, who was supposed to explain anything to her? But of all the things that confounded her most was why her mother would now entrust her to her father after fleeing from him in the first place.

She shook her head as she lay in bed, trying to shut down her brain. There was always tomorrow and tomorrow she would ask her father what she meant. No more mysterious crap in her life. She was not a child.

She gave a soft snort at the one thought that often flitted through every teenage brain since the beginning of time, but in truth she had grown up a long, long time ago. It was about time L’Enfre gave her some explanation.