I hated that inner voice, if only because all too often it was right.

Rory had died saving our asses, and I knew he wouldn’t be angry about that. He’d always had something of a hero complex, and had often said that if he had to go before his allotted one hundred years were up, he’d rather do it saving someone he loved.

And he and I did love each other; hell, I couldn’t physically survive without him, nor he without me. But we weren’t in love, thanks to the curse that haunted all phoenixes—a curse that was said to have come from a witch after a phoenix lover had left her with little more than the ashes of broken promises and dreams.

But it was a curse we could have ultimately lived with, if not for the fact that it came with one other kick in the teeth—that no matter whom we did fall in love with each lifetime, the relationship would end in ashes, just as the witch’s had.

As far as I was aware, no phoenix had ever found a way to break the curse. I certainly wouldn’t—not in this lifetime, at any rate. Sam might have gotten as far as talking to me of late, but I doubted it would ever progress beyond that. Not given what he saw as my complete betrayal of his trust—even if he now understood the reasons for it.

I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, letting it wash the lingering wisps of regret and hurt from my mind. I needed to concentrate. The sun had almost reached its zenith, and that meant it was time to begin.

I stripped and placed my clothes on the loose white tunic I’d brought here for Rory, and then kicked off my shoes. The slight breeze teased my skin, its touch chasing goose bumps across my body despite the sunshine.

Within me, energy stirred, energy that was a part of me and yet separate. Rory’s soul, impatient for his rebirth. When phoenixes died—as Rory had in Brooklyn—their flesh became ashes that had to be called, and then retained, within the heat of a mate’s body. If for some reason that process didn’t happen, then there was no rebirth. And that, in turn, was a death sentence for the remaining partner, as phoenixes could only ever rise from their ashes through a spell performed by the mate.

And there was also a time restriction on rebirth. It had to be done within five days of death, or the life and the fire of those ashes would die, and the spirit and energy would be returned to the earth mother, never to be reborn.