Klutz: Phoenix Down (But Did You Die? Book 1)

2021·1.3 MB·english

by  Sedona Ashe [Ashe

Klutz:
Phoenix Down
But Did You Die?
Book 1
Copyright © 2021 by Sedona Ashe
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
www.sedonaashe.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner
except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected]
Cover artwork by Ana Cruz Arts
www.anacruz-arts.com

CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Author’s Note
About Sedona Ashe
“B
race for impact! Brace for impact!”
My knuckles turned white as I grasped the cold metal armrests of the tiny airplane seat. Dread
twisted my stomach, cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I watched as the wild-eyed flight attendant
screamed into the intercom before she dropped into a seat and succumbed to a full-blown panic
attack. I had limited experience with planes, but I was pretty sure that was a really, really bad sign.
The oxygen masks had dropped from the ceiling and were swinging wildly, but as I looked around
the plane, I realized no one was reaching for the masks. Luggage had fallen from several of the
overhead bins, and it skittered across the floor as the plane lurched and shuddered.
I glanced across the aisle at the business executive. He had stuffed all his electronics into a glossy
leather case, wrapping his arms tightly around the bag. Before take-off, he spent every second typing
away angrily on his laptop while barking orders into his phone. I guessed that he was speaking to his
assistant, because he’d threatened to fire her if she didn’t stay late to finish some report. I doubted she
was going to miss him.
Looking toward the front of the plane, I saw a young couple who had spent the entire flight
giggling and watching a movie with shared headphones. Now they clutched each other, tears
streaming down their terrified faces. They kissed as though committing it to memory, as if it were the
last time. It probably was. My own eyes prickled with unshed tears.
Across from the couple, a young man typed into his cell phone. His hands were shaking badly, and
he struggled to send what I assumed was a final goodbye message. My heart clenched, knowing that
he was unlikely to get a chance to read the response.
Glancing around, I realized that three other passengers were also frantically typing into their
phones. The horrific sound of metal ripping rang in my ears, and the plane lurched to the side. Several
phones went flying and clattered toward the nose of the plane.
I let out a grunt of pain as the sudden tilt to the side slammed my shoulder into the cold glass
window. Peering through the small oval, I saw we had dropped through the clouds.
A low growl yanked my attention from the ground that was hurrying to meet us, and onto the group
of guys sitting across the aisle, several rows behind me. The five men had boarded together, and to
my shame, I had spent a good portion of the trip sneaking glances their way. Every single one of them
looked like they had walked right off the cover of a fashion magazine.
When they had made their way down the tiny airplane aisle after boarding, moving past me to
their seats in the rear, I half expected their hair to blow like something out of a stupid romance movie.
It had been amusing watching them, trying to squeeze their hulking muscled bodies down the narrow
aisle, before cramming themselves into the tiny metal seats. I was barely over five feet tall, which
made flying one of the few activities where my size worked to my advantage.
As they had squeezed past me, the hair on my arms lifted, and a shiver ran through my body. My
inner alert system starting screaming, ‘Danger! Danger!’
Yep, these boys were dangerous, and a complication I didn’t need. My life was cursed enough, so
I avoided making eye contact with them during the flight.
While the plane continued to lurch and groan, I watched the black-clad Greek gods lean toward
each other, whispering furiously. They didn’t look terrified, which I assumed was the usual reaction
people had when they were about to die in a horrific plane crash. Nope, these guys just looked
annoyed.
Flickering lights across the aisle caught my eye. Brilliant red and orange flames were licking s
cracked window and moving up the side of the plane. Part of the wing was missing, and what
remained was on fire. The beautiful dance of fire had always calmed me, but not at this moment.
Looking back out my window, my heart stuttered at the land rushing up to meet us at an alarming
rate. I could see glimpses of water between the luscious green foliage. Was that the Amazon River?
The plane screeched, splitting apart at its seams. The acrid scent of smoke burned my nose, and
lights flickered on and off, casting an eerie glow inside the cabin. Bile threatened to choke me as the
passengers’ terrified shrieks filled the air. Taking in the horror-stricken faces around me, hot tears
burned down my cheeks. Sorrow constricted my lungs, and it was with great effort that I sucked in a
strangled breath.
The tiny window showed we were mere seconds from impact.
I closed my eyes. I really wasn’t looking forward to dying.
Again.
I
came to when my lungs spasmed and filled with air. Excruciating pain rippled down every
nerve ending in my body, and I ground my teeth, waiting for it to be over. It didn’t matter
how many times I regenerated; the kick-start was always horrible. I hadn’t caught sight of any actual
flames, yet my skin burned like it had been set on fire during the regeneration.
When the last of the pain flickered out, I slowly opened my eyes to take stock of my surroundings.
I was lying on my back, pressed deep into the dirt of a riverbank. Cold water lapped at my toes. I was
naked. Son of a biscuit eater! This happened every single time! I would die and then wake up in my
birthday suit. The only upside to this embarrassing curse was the fact that it distracted any potential
witnesses.
Like that time when I was pushing my cart out of the grocery store, and the wind yanked the
receipt from my hand. The piece of paper had fluttered to the ground. Being a good citizen who didn’t
litter, I bent down to pick it up. Right as I grabbed the receipt, a gust of wind blew my scarf and
tangled it around the cart wheel, yanking me hard. I stumbled toward the ground, letting go of the cart
handle to grab my scarf with both hands, struggling to free myself as it tightened around my throat.
Boy, would that have been a horrible way to die, or what?
Instead, the cart picked up a little speed now that I wasn’t holding onto it, and its forward
momentum completely knocked me off balance. It jerked me out in front of a vehicle. The sweet
elderly lady driving had been so terribly shocked by the sight of me being strangled and hauled along
by a shopping cart, she slammed her foot down hard… on the accelerator, not the brakes. Her car
lunged forward and crashed into me. For the record, that hurt far more than being strangled to death
by a scarf.
Several bystanders had watched the unfolding tableau in stunned horror, and they rushed forward
to help. By the time they reached me, I had regenerated and was crawling out from under her car.
I was butt-freaking-naked.
Everyone seemed to forget that I had just been crushed under a car; they were far more interested
in my nakedness.
I was able to go home, the bystanders assuming I was a streaker that enjoyed practical jokes.
While that was embarrassing, it was far better than being taken to a secret laboratory for people to
study, poke, stab, and whatever else they were likely to do to me, all in the name of science.
Groaning, I focused back on the situation at hand. A hefty piece of metal was on top of me, pinning
me to the dirt. With effort, I half-shoved and half-shimmied my way out from under the debris.
Staggering to my feet, I paused for a second to catch my breath and let a wave of dizziness pass.
Regenerating took a hefty toll on my body.
It usually took only a minute to regenerate, which meant the plane had crashed only a couple
minutes before. I knew it was futile, but I decided to check for any survivors. I saw that a portion of
the plane was several feet out in the murky river. It was partially submerged, creating a cave-like
shape. I waded toward it, my feet sinking into the mud. My heart was lodged in my throat and as I
tried not to think about all the things that might be in the water with me, as I quickly ducked inside the
wreckage.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. Very few seats remained intact, and even
fewer were still attached. I sucked in a sharp breath when I moved past the body of the young man
who had been so in love. The odd angle of his neck made it clear he was beyond saving. The
woman’s seat was completely gone. It seemed that several of the seats had been ripped loose and
were probably floating elsewhere on the river.
The further I moved inside, the deeper the seats were submerged beneath the river. I continued
moving swiftly. The water was up to my chest when something suddenly brushed against my side.
Stifling a scream, I turned and saw the body of the flight attendant floating by me. Her blood turned
the surrounding water deep red. I splashed away as quickly as I could.
Why was I still going deeper into the plane? I could see that the back part of the plane was
completely submerged. If anyone had been buckled into those last seats, they were surely dead. I
know some people can hold their breath for several minutes under water, but I doubted that they were
capable of remembering that when the plane had crashed.
It didn’t matter how much the voice of reason told me to leave the plane and get to safety, I
couldn’t resist the urge to keep going. When I reached the back of the plane, I was forced to swim as
my feet could no longer touch the bottom of the riverbed. I sucked in a lungful of air and dove into the
water.
It was still daylight, and cracks in the plane’s metal allowed small shafts of light to penetrate the
water. I could see that two seats were intact, and that they were both occupied. My heart sank as I
took in the still faces of the men. Their hair moved gently in the water’s current. I noticed that they
were two of the group of powerful-looking, drop-dead-gorgeous guys. One had a long gash down the
side of his face, and it was oozing crimson blood into the water. The other guy looked untouched, but
deathly pale.
I noticed that metal rod had speared the plane and was buried deep into the riverbed. It was
situated directly across the front of the men’s seats. It was so close to them, in fact, that it had nearly
impaled them through their chests. It reminded me of the bars that lock in front of you when you ride a
rollercoaster, keeping you pinned in safely.
I shivered at the thought of a rollercoaster. Never again would I be caught dead on one. And yes, I
do mean dead. That is exactly what happened the last time I rode one.
I yanked hard on the bar, but it was firmly in place. My lungs burned as I turned to look back at the
men. I should leave them. They had to have been underwater for at least four minutes, and neither
showed signs of life. But that stupid pull, that urge to carry on, wouldn’t let me leave.
Suddenly, I gasped, letting out all my air in a startled scream, when a pair of crystal blue eyes
snapped open and stared directly at me.
Kicking hard, I resurfaced and gasped in a lungful of air. I had binge watched enough
documentaries while eating takeout Chinese food alone in my apartment to know how free divers
packed air into their lungs. I tried my best to remember what they had done, repeating the steps in my
head, and then quickly dove back under. I swam straight towards the man with his eyes open.
He was still watching me, and my heart gave a horrible lurch when I saw the strain in his face and
neck. I stopped mere inches from his face, and with my finger I made the motion for him to release his
air. He didn’t move. I did the only thing I could think of, and I punched him in the gut. He let out his
breath, although I believe it was from surprise, rather than pain, since the water slowed my punch.
As soon as the air left his mouth, I pressed my lips against his. Electricity sizzled between us, and
I felt his lips move against mine in a way that made the act definitely more of a kiss than simply the
exchange of air I was offering.
I pushed myself upwards and surfaced again, inhaling the salty air and coughing. Diving straight
back down, I put both hands on the bar. I really wished I didn’t have a pair of frigid blue eyes
watching my every movement. My entire life I had tried to hide my odd abilities, but I couldn’t see
any other way to get these men free.
Ignoring the burning sensation in my lungs, and the frantic beating of my heart, I concentrated and
sent heat rushing to my palms. The water around my hands began to warm. I needed to be careful; I
couldn’t burn the men. When a beautiful orange glow began to swirl around my hands, I braced my
feet on the hard steel of the seats and called the power from deep inside me. As I pulled back, the bar
bent before finally breaking free from the heat and pressure.
Dropping the bar, I scrambled to unbuckle the guy who hadn’t opened his eyes. His head was still
oozing blood into the water. My gaze locked with the blue-eyed Adonis, and I realized he hadn’t
moved. His arms floated limply at his sides. I wondered if they had been crushed with the impact.
I struggled but managed to unbuckle him as well. Pulling them out of their seats, I pushed the men
toward the surface. As soon as all our heads were above water, I flipped onto my back, grabbed both
their shirt collars, and kicked my feet to move us along the river. As I towed them, blue eyes coughed
and gasped, but blondie remained completely still.
My legs burned, and my body trembled from fatigue. Regenerating wasn’t a walk in the park. The
magic, or at least that’s what I thought of it as, didn’t just fix the fatal injury and then stuff my soul
back in my body. Nope, it gave my body a complete overhaul.
Every cell in my body was repaired: scars disappeared, even the slight signs of aging that
occurred between my deaths, and subsequent regenerations, were corrected. Basically, my body was
reset to factory settings each time I died. I looked twenty years old after each regeneration.
The major downside of being able to die and come back, besides the horrific pain, is the amount
of energy the magic has to use to make the repairs to my body. Whenever I regenerated in the past, I
always found a safe place to curl up and sleep for several days. After the first couple of days spent
asleep, I would wake up, emerging like a bear out of a hibernation, and eat everything I could find,
before sleeping again.
It took about a week to recover, and that was if I didn’t fight the sleep and just went straight to bed
and allowed myself to rest. Right now, I should’ve been curled in a ball sleeping, but instead, I was
using magic and energy I didn’t have to save these two guys.
I had to get them to safety, but then I needed to figure out a way to call for help before I passed out
and didn’t wake up for a few days.
Clearing the little cave-like opening of the plane, I dragged the guys through the sand until we
were away from the incoming tide. Blue eyes had his jaw clenched tightly in pain. Now that he was
out of the water, I could see the tears and rips in his clothing.
There were deep gashes on his arms and legs, and my stomach lurched when I realized I could see
the white of his bones in several places. He wasn’t moving his limbs; he seemed to be focused on
fixing his gaze on the sky and breathing through his pain.
I turned to blondie who lay deathly still on the sand at my feet. I felt for a pulse and let out a
breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when I felt it. It was very faint, but it was there. Again, thanks
to my unhealthy obsession with watching TV, I began performing CPR. I started humming the song
from the 70s that set the perfect pace for resuscitation.
I was focused on resuscitating him, but that didn’t stop me from feeling that electricity each time I
sealed my lips to his. I vaguely wondered if my magic had somehow messed up the regeneration, and
that was causing such an odd reaction.
“Open your eyes! I worked my butt off to save you. The least you could do is say thank you!”
Yelling at him was ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop myself. My arms hurt, and my legs were trembling,