Chapter 5

An incredibly beautiful woman made of pure fire knelt on the ground, knees wide and back arched so that her head touched the ground behind her feet. There was no one around to admire her exquisite form, though, and one long arm snaked over her hips and belly to guide eager fingers down between her legs while her other arm stretched around to reach from behind as she pleasured herself.

Flames arced into the air from her breasts and belly to create ever-increasing circles of pure energy, only to burst into a million sparks as she cried out in lonely ecstasy. As her ardor cooled, so did her body temperature and she slowly became more solid.

The raptor that had been carrying her back to its nest wasn't so lucky. It lay on the ground in a pool of its own blood, its lower jaw completely burned away from the Phoenix flaring back to life. It had tried to spit out its prize when it had first caught fire, but its teeth were embedded too deeply into the ribs. Shaking its head in a furious, terrified effort to dislodge the fiery tidbit only caused it to burn more fiercely. One good lungful of superheated air was enough to kill the ravenous predator. As it fell to the ground, its charcoaled lower jaw crumbled, freeing its prize.

Murielle gasped cool air into her overheated lungs again and again, still reliving that incredible flaring-back-to-life. She always felt exhilarated and ultra-sensitive whenever she reawakened from death. Instead of languishing on the ground and marveling at the caress of a breeze or the torrid baking heat of the sun on her renewed flesh like she usually did, she felt the pressing need to reunite her sister with the living.

With an impatient sigh, she forced herself upright from that spread-eagled and back-arched kneeling position she found herself in and stared down at the body she had formed during this last flaring, with a critical eye toward creating one just like it for Miranda. They were twins, after all...

She looked incredible – larger breasts, a firm flat stomach and hips that curved nicely around to form ... she stood up and twisted around to see her backside ... Yes ... a nice, firm, not-too-large-but-enough-to-attract-attention, butt. This certainly didn't look like she used to, but she hoped her sister would be pleased. Now to create a copy of this for Miranda and call her spirit to it.

Creating another body exactly like hers was easy, once she had the concept in her mind. Calling forth her fire, she simply formed it and, rather awkwardly, made it lie down on the ground to cool. She discovered that controlling two bodies at once was certainly interesting and for a few seconds she thought of several interactive possibilities, but cast those perverted ideas aside – for the time being, anyway.

Now for the next step: 'Miranda ... I call you to me! Come!'

Nothing happened. Murielle frowned as she thought through everything again – 'Live body exactly like mine, Miranda waiting at her dream beach for me to call to her ... Nope, everything is in place ... Oh, no. I forgot ... She's INSIDE a Praetor!'

Closing her eyes, she emulated the feeling she got whenever she was in the mental presence of a Praetor and expanded her awareness to include its cold, artificial aura, then called out. 'Praetor, are you there?'

There was no reply. Evidently, she needed to ask it a question. Murielle began to worry. Her plan was falling apart as things occurred that she had forgotten or overlooked. Frantic, she cried out to the Praetor, trying to be as specific as possible. 'Praetor, help me! Why did you allow me contact with my sister if you do not intend that I bring her back? Please release her so that she may come to me and be reborn.' There was no response, but Murielle could feel the cold, metallic presence in her mind.

'I know you are here. You revealed yourself to me before. Why do you hide from me now?'

'Are you asking a question?' the Praetor responded.

An audible sigh of great relief came from Murielle's throat. "You really are here! I didn't dream you!"

"What – you want me to operate both bodies?" Murielle cried, so stunned at the idea that she spoke out loud. 'For how long?'

'Until you can convince her that she wants to live.'

'What do you mean?' Murielle cried, mentally this time. 'Is she not willing to come to me?' This was cruel. Surely Miranda wouldn't abandon her to this stark existence. Surely she would help to share this awful loneliness...

'I see, I think, ' she thought. 'If Elaine, or Tabatha, for example, don't exist in Miranda's mind, she won't remember how they hurt her.'