Hellboy: Unnatural Selection by Tim Lebbon Read Free Book Online Page A

tremendous. It had come after a loud clap above them, the sound of the phoenix striking its wings together. Liz wished she had taken more time on the journey over to read up on phoenix mythology, but the drinks trolley had been stocking a good single malt, and whiskey took away her memories.
    Shit!
    Fire bathed the vehicle like a flaming waterfall, melting the tires, igniting rubber seals, warping and cracking metal, shattering glass, and the sounds were worse than the heat, rocking the car from side to side as every air pocket exploded and the metal shell split in two. They were surrounded by the flames. The stench of burning was awful, a nightmare, her nightmare, and Liz opened her mouth to scream against the memories being dredged up. But there was no air in the car, and her scream remained unborn.
    Something grasped at her arm, and she saw the skin on Dimitris' hand bubble and blister as he squeezed.
    Liz kicked open her door and rolled out into the flames.
    The fire stopped. It died out as quickly as it had come, leaving only the ruined car in its wake. Metal pinged and cracked as it continued to expand and rupture. Tires were black puddles in the dust. Glass ran. And at last, Liz found the air to scream.
    The phoenix sitting on the car roof looked down at her almost casually. It had curled its claws through the metal, and now it shifted its footing so that it could turn to face her head-on. It was beautiful. Coppery plumage, merging to a gorgeous deep plum color on its wing tips. Huge wings, narrow and graceful, and a long curved beak that looked as finely crafted as a musical instrument. She caught its eye, and it tilted its head to one side, as if waiting for her to speak.
    Liz stood, brushing her hands subconsciously over her smoldering clothes. The bird watched, tilted its head some more, and then it bowed three times. Damn, I wish I'd read more! she thought again, but regrets could do her no favors. She bowed three times in return, never taking her eyes from the phoenix.
    The giant bird opened its wings and stood upright on the car, calling into the blazing sky and shaking its head. Liz cringed down, expecting it to throw its wings together again. They only conjure fire to destroy themselves. At least, that was what she seemed to remember. And it was this fact that had been bugging her all day. If this really was the phoenix of myth and legend, how come it was conjuring fire at will?
    What had pissed it off?
    "We need to talk," she said. The bird looked down at her again and opened and closed its beak. Then it screeched, the sound so loud and forced that its body shook with the effort, claws squealing against metal where they had pierced the car's roof.
    Liz looked down quickly, pleased to see that Dimitris was moving. He didn't look too good ... but at least he was not dead. Yet.
    And then she had an idea. She'd always hated the saying 'Fight fire with fire', but if this thing was screeching like this to show off — as a display of power — then she, too, could play that game. So long as it didn't get the wrong idea and turn this into a mating ritual.
    "Here!" she said. "Fiery ass!" She closed her eyes, picturing Dimitris' skin melting as he had squeezed her arm, and when she looked again, her hand was clothed in flame.
    The bird stilled its strident calling and seemed shocked for a few seconds, standing there with giant wings unfurled and head tilted as it stared down at this other firestarter.
    "I have this," Liz said. She turned her hand over, and the fire consumed her arm, moving up to her neck and curling around her throat like a pet snake. "It's a true power, isn't it? And it's beautiful. Feels like a cool kiss on my skin." She played with the fire. The familiar thrill came to her, unbidden and mostly unbearable. She hated what this curse had done, yet she loved this gift. Hellboy had once told her that something could be both, and he should know. You only had to open your mind to see the ugliness and