The phantom flame, p.1
The Phantom Flame, page 1
THE PHANTOM FLAME
BRIMSTONE & FIRE, BOOK 2
T. M. LEDVINA
ALSO BY T. M. LEDVINA
Brimstone & Fire
Of Blood, Bones, and Truth
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2024 T.M. Ledvina
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Hardcover: 979-8-9863870-3-1
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First published March 2024.
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Map Design by Rachael Ward (cartographybird.com)
Interior Formatting by Lindsay Clement (novelitica.com)
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CONTENTS
Trigger Warnings
Character Guide
Introduction
Section 1
1. Kellan
2. Beck
3. Cassian
4. Kellan
5. Cassian
6. Beck
7. Cassian
8. Cassian
9. Beck
10. Kellan
11. Kellan
12. Cassian
13. Kellan
14. Beck
15. Kellan
16. Kellan
Section 2
17. Cassian
18. Beck
19. Kellan
20. Kellan
21. Cassian
22. Kellan
23. Kellan
24. Beck
25. Cassian
26. Kellan
27. Beck
Section 3
28. Cassian
29. Kellan
30. Kellan
31. Cassian
32. Kellan
33. Cassian
34. Beck
35. Kellan
36. Cassian
37. Kellan
38. Cassian
Section 4
39. Beck
40. Kellan
41. Kellan
42. Cassian
43. The Dragon’s Tale
44. Beck
45. Cassian
46. Kellan
Section 5
47. Cassian
48. Kellan
49. Beck
50. Cassian
51. Kellan
52. Kellan
53. Cassian
54. Beck
55. Beck
56. Cassian
57. Kellan
58. Beck
Epilogue
Pronunciation Guide
Government & Leadership
The Legion
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For Addy. Without you, I never would have learned to grieve.
For you. I see your grief. The tunnel is long and dark and hard to breathe, but the end is there. You will see the light again.
You reside within me like
the star fragments
of a long-lost galaxy
Sparkling against the void
remind me that we are so small
but also infinite.
TRIGGER WARNINGS
Dear reader, please be advised that this is a work of adult fiction. Themes include grief, depression, enslavement, and oppression. If any of the specific trigger warnings listed below make you uncomfortable, please do not read this work.
Blood
Violence
Description of Injuries
Implications of Sex/Sexual Violence
Depression
Self-Harm Ideation
Suicide Ideation
Panic attacks
Loss/Death of a Parent
CHARACTER GUIDE
The Legion & Spiral City
Kellan Manchester: A private in the nineteenth division as well as a Fallen. Has served as an indentured investigator/assassin for the past four years with the Legion.
Vaida Larsen: Another private in the Legion, serving in the eighteenth division as an analyst. Kellan’s best friend in the Legion. A woman of many secrets.
The Commissioner: The leader of the Legion. He has served the Legion for over seventy years, but has only been in his current role for just over twenty years. Strangely attached to Kellan.
Selwyn Morgenstern: An heiress to weapons and tech giant, Morgenstern Tech. Her role in the Morgenstern business has only grown since her brother disappeared four years ago.
The Hells
Cassian Evermore: Previously an assassin in Ragnor LeRoche’s employ but has since disappeared. Whereabouts are unknown.
Zalmelloth: A mysterious and elusive prince of the Hells. Zir's domain is Stygia; is in a pact with Cassian Evermore.
Az'Gomack: The de facto leader of Stygia as well as a prince of the Hells.
The Phantom Flame
Rosalie Delacour: The leader of the Phantom Flame.
Liv Auclair (Tigereye): A member of the Phantom Flame, and one of Rosalie’s closest friends.
Spider (real name unknown): A member of the Phantom Flame, and one of Rosalie’s closest friends. On Reaper’s squad.
Beck Aenmar (Reaper): Actually an indentured Red Guard member in disguise, but is now part of the Phantom Flame. Spider is part of his squad.
Foxtail (real name unknown): A member of the Phantom Flame, and a part of Reaper’s squad.
Green Wasp (real name unknown): A member of the Phantom Flame, and a part of Reaper’s squad.
For a hundred days, the trespasser god and the original god fought.
It is said that the sun never set during those hundred days. The fields were scorched, the rivers ran dry, and the people begged their gods to stop fighting.
And when they did, only the trespasser god was left standing.
Although his power was greatly diminished, he won. He prevailed against the original god and trapped the only ones who could try to defy him, locked them away in a now-cursed realm.
Waiting for the day when the Veil finally falls.
SECTION 1
DEMONIC PACTS
Demonic pacts are, regardless of the parties involved, always a symbiotic relationship. Although it may seem that the pact-bearer is getting the better end of the deal, rest assured this is not the case.
Pacts are only formed with agreement from both parties—forced pacts do not exist. The terms of agreement can be as simple as an affirmative response from both sides or much more complex and ritualistic. Since the foundation of the pact is formed with consent from both parties, it is natural that the rest of the pact functions in much the same way.
Betrayals between pact members is impossible. Asking the other member of your pact to cause the other harm is a distinct taboo. In return, pact-bearers gain the powers equivalent to the demon they have formed a pact with. Other, more specific terms can be formed upon the creation of the pact beyond the no-harm agreement.
Summoning a demon and creating a pact is reserved only for those who have innate magical abilities. Lack of magical ability doesn’t disclude you, however, from forming other kinds of agreements with a demon.
1
KELLAN
Spiral City
14th of Cresting Moon
That familiar sensation descended upon him without warning; tickling his nose, stinging his eyes, clouding his vision.
Not here. Not now.
The shifter to his left smoothed a finger over Kellan’s leather jacket sleeve, their eyes bright. Nothing stirred in him other than disgust.
The disgust wasn’t for his companion; it was for himself. But Kellan had long ago learned that disgust was preferable to the deeper, sharper, all-encompassing grief he was suppressing as he leaned in to lock lips with the shifter.
His self-loathing only deepened as the kisses did, each one leaving him more and more empty inside. Each exchange that should have left him breathless instead left him cold.
The black pit inside of him squirmed, its depths writhing with loathing and hatred. It was angry; with himself, with Sol, with Leo and Alvemach. That was good. Anger was another emotion he’d found to keep the grief at bay.
The shifter parted Kellan’s lips, flicking a snake’s forked tongue inside his mouth. He didn’t flinch, but the blackness swarmed with more fervor. He wove a hand through their soft, shoulder-length black hair, letting the strands trail through his fingers like liquid.
“My place is upstairs,” the shifter said, finally pulling away long enough to speak. Their tongue flicked over lips swollen from kissing. “Care to join me?”
Kellan didn’t much care about where they lived. It was close, which was good. He’d be on the way to momentary blissful distraction sooner than later.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Lead the way.”
The shifter smiled, then stood. They motioned to a group of people, waving their hand in a quick goodbye. None of them gave Kellan a second glance. If they had, they might have seen the black fire burning in his eyes as he followed their friend out of the bar and up a set of metal stairs beside the entrance.
Where was he again? he thought, glancing around. It certainly looked familiar, but then again, all of Spiral City looked familiar by now. There weren’t any trees, so Lunadere was out. Maybe Tethgir, in the northern part of the district that bled over into Lunadere? He couldn’t tell. Vaida would be furious with him when he’d inevitably call her in the middle of the night or early morning to come pick him up.
Again.
His companion fumbled with their keys, turning back once to shoot him a sheepish yet flirty grin. He didn’t return their smile.
Finally, the door unlocked with a soft click and they were inside, lips locked the moment the door closed behind them.
Between kisses, clothing came undone. First, their jacket dropped to the floor with little pomp or circumstance. Kellan’s jacket joined soon after.
Their shirts came off slowly, a teasing game to see who could torture the other longest before they caved. Kellan won, allowing the shifter to think they were doing more than serving as a fleeting distraction from the maelstrom of his heart.
His pants were a harder obstacle to overcome. Instead of allowing his partner to fumble, Kellan simply shook his head, gesturing toward the bedroom.
“Go, get ready. I’ll be there in a sec.”
The shifter nodded, walking toward the bedroom with a single flirtatious glance backward before disappearing.
He gathered his discarded clothes, neatly folding them and placing them on the chair in the living room, placing his pants and undergarments with them. He’d lost enough pairs of underwear by now to know when to take caution.
Kellan paused, the weight inside him heavy as he stared down at the pile on the chair. He was bleeding inside, but his skin was smooth and unblemished. What would it feel like to cut open that skin and let the pressure inside of him spill out? Would he feel some kind of release? Or would the pain distract him from the angry fist that clenched his heart?
His jaw tightened. He already knew the answer. It wouldn’t help.
He turned toward the bedroom, leaving his neatly folded clothes on the chair and focusing on the dark before him.
The shifter had already disrobed, lying on the bed in full splendor.
Kellan joined them, crawling slowly across the sheets, a wry grin spreading his lips. “Make me forget everything tonight.”
The shifter caught him, nibbling on his neck, just below his ear. “Consider it done.”
Several hours later, his techpad was lit with Vaida’s hologram. He’d dressed as the shifter slept soundly, the sheets tangled beneath them, the disarray proof of their night together. Not that it would matter in the morning.
“Seriously?” Vaida drawled, then sighed in resignation. “You could just get a taxi, you know.”
Kellan tugged his jacket on, shaking his head. “Too expensive. You don’t make small talk, either.”
“I should strangle you,” she retorted. “Be there in twenty.”
He nodded, then swiped a hand over his techpad, erasing her hologram and ending their connection. He didn’t glance back at his conquest before easing himself out of their door and back down the metal staircase.
Alcohol didn’t work on him—a shame, that was. But he couldn’t deny that he preferred loud places these days. Noise was a good cover for his thoughts. And this place was loud enough he couldn’t hear himself think.
He reentered the bar, smoothing his shaggy hair back from his face. It had a slight curl to it when he let it get longer, and it was over his ears now. People enjoyed weaving their fingers in it in the throes of passion.
Kellan’s shoulder bumped against another patron’s as he crossed toward the bar from the entrance. He mumbled a half-hearted apology, not bothering to turn and look at whoever he’d run into.
He didn’t get far; a large, meaty hand descended on his shoulder, whipping him around to face them. The hand belonged to a hulking man, his hair buzzed short to his lumpy head. His ears were long and pointed, silver hoops flashing at their tips.
“Watch where you’re going, shrimp,” the man said, squeezing Kellan’s shoulder beneath his hand. “Little bitch boys like you should have some manners.”
Anger flared brilliant crimson in his vision. The high from sex was fading, and this guy was pissing him off.
He wrapped a hand around one of the man’s massive fingers and lifted his hand from his shoulder like he was picking up a soiled rag. “And why should I have manners for some beast like you? You look like day-old roadkill.”
The man’s cheeks flushed red. Before he could open his mouth, Kellan continued.
“I wish I cared about talking more with you, but I’d need to learn whatever language dogs speak in order to communicate with you. Woof, woof.”
Kellan watched with amusement as the man’s face went from red to purple, the veins in his neck popping. Excellent. He was in the mood for a fight.
Sensing the tension in the air, the surrounding crowd stepped back. Kellan rolled his neck, popping the spaces between with satisfaction.
The man cracked his knuckles. “I’ll make you wish you’d never been born, asshole.”
“Oh, great comeback. I’d give you a dirty look, but, ah, you’ve already got one.”
The man roared, swinging his meaty fist wildly toward Kellan, who easily ducked out of the way, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The man was obviously not well trained and had used his size to his advantage until now.
Kellan laughed wryly. “Come on, you’ve gotta be faster than that!”
He roared again, bringing his other fist up from below, hoping to catch Kellan’s jaw in an uppercut. His size hindered him against someone nimble like Kellan, and he easily avoided his swings. Kellan still seethed, but enjoyed taunting his opponent.
The big man swung around to face Kellan where he’d circled behind, practically foaming at the mouth. “Stop dodging and fight me face to face, you little shit! You’re underestimating me.”
“I find it impossible to underestimate you, sir,” Kellan said, emphasizing the honorific.
That seemed to enrage the beefy man further. He swung again, Kellan ducking between the double swings he took toward his head and stomach. It was easy to avoid him; his tells were sloppy and obvious. With Kellan’s training, it was akin to fighting an oversized child.
