The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3

by Felisha Antonette

  “That is a damn good question, Kylie.” He heads toward my door. “But we aren’t going to find out the answers to these questions now. We’ll try to figure it out later. Keep an ear and an eye out. Make sure we aren’t being watched. No more talk about this until we figure it out. No talk about anything, with anyone. You hear me?” He looks at me head on with his brows high.

  His insinuation is far too clear. “Yeah.” I plop down on my bed. He leaves, and I lie across the mattress, holding the letter over me as I reread its cipher.

  Luke will go back to that girl, and I’ll wait until he comes and gets me so we can sleep. He should stop letting those girls in his room. They are going to catch him, and then we’ll have to sit through a lecture about relations among Creations and how they are not permitted. And if we do revel in such actions, there will be consequences. Luke says our government won’t care about his actions. But even if they knew you wouldn’t choose someone over your twin, that doesn’t mean the other person wouldn’t choose you over theirs.

  I fold the crumpled paper over, following the indented lines. Someone here knows about us. Especially after reading this letter. We need to find out who.

  Sean yells with Fein laughing loudly from downstairs. “What are they doing?” I head out of my room and catch Marc’s door close.

  Don’t do it, Ky. Go downstairs like you planned.

  I look left and right before I cross the hall on my tiptoes so I’m heard by no one. Placing my ear to the cold wood, I listen and hear no voices. I take in a breath of confidence and take a small step back so I can look at the doorknob. Grabbing it, I turn it and push the door open before I can change my mind. Stepping in, I shut the door behind me and quickly, but quietly, face him.

  He’s lying on his back, his head facing the ceiling.

  I walk to the side of his bed.

  His head slowly turns to me with his left arm resting on his forehead. Even slower, he opens his eyes.

  “I can’t,” I mumble, as I slowly squat down to be eye level with him.

  He closes his eyes and returns to his original position. “You don’t listen.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, lifting my hand to touch his shoulder then deciding against it. I rest it on my knee instead. “Can I explain further now?”

  He shakes his head. “I already know, Ky. I don’t need you to explain anything.”

  “I can’t leave you alone,” I admit before he continues with his rejection. “Please stop telling me that.”

  “Leave me alone, Kylie,” he orders, turning and sitting up. I move back, standing. “Don’t you understand that?” he fires off. “Whatever it is you think you want or need to explain to me, I don’t want to hear that shit!” He’s loud enough that if someone were at the door, they could hear him, but hopefully not all the way downstairs. “You need to get oughta here.”

  “Marc, I―”

  “No,” he cuts me off. “You are nothing to me.” He jabs a finger toward the door, rage darkening his eyes. “Get out.”

  A rough breath thrusts from my lungs, charging from my throat. I cough from the feeling of the wind being knocked out of me. A fire blazes my throat, and beyond my control a tear falls.

  He looks away from me, turning his head toward the far wall and his chest of drawers.

  He’s hurt me, and I don’t like the way it makes me feel. The hurt is replaced with anger. I ball my fists, and a string of hostile words build in my throat.

  I try to catch my breath, and I’m reminded of the sound of my cry when I watched my parents get killed. It softly echoes off the walls of Marc’s room.

  Before it can happen again, I grab ahold of myself and walk to him.

  Looking up at him, I whisper, “I only did it to save Sean. If it weren’t for me, he would be dead.”

  Marc straightens his spine, and his frame somewhat towers over mine, but only by a few inches. He takes a step forward, forcing me back. My feet scrape against the rough wood floor. Heavy breaths heave past his nostrils, thrashing against my crossed arms. “No. If it weren’t for you, you would be dead,” he states devilishly, inches away from my face. It sounds more like a threat, that maybe if he didn’t have feelings for me, he’d take me out. His gaze shifts from my eyes downward then back before he pushes me. “Or maybe you wouldn’t be because they would save you.”

  I scoff. “You are angry with me because you saved me?”

  He stares at me, shadowed eyes peering through me as though I were a window instead of solid flesh. He’s tearing me apart with his silent glare. “You need to leave.”

  “Talk to me,” I demand. “Tell me why you’re really angry.”

  “You are one of them, Kylie. You aren’t supposed to be here. And because you are, there is only one explanation, and it’s not a good one.”

  “I am a Creation. I am not one of them.” He shakes his head and pushes me to the door. I shove his hands away from me. “Just hear me out, Marcain, and stop pushing me.” I continue when he backs away. “I have no allegiance to them. This is all based on a plan that started with my parents. The Vojin thought we could help in it to better this planet.” He gives me a disgusted look, and I correct, “Better our planet. They killed my parents and lied to us for years, and now things are worse, and they have a different plan that we are not trying to be a part of. We want to destroy them and their plan instead.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he asks, purple gaze shifting around his room, continuously avoiding me.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you. I am no different from who I was before. You cut me, I’ll bleed like you, and a twin will heal me as yours would. You look into my eyes and see them infused how yours are. I am like you, and my thoughts are no different than they were before.”

  Marc runs his hands through his dark hair and leaves them resting at the back of his neck. “Even with that said, Ky, you still need to leave. And leave me alone.”

  “I…can’t!” I say slowly. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. It was easier when you weren’t upset with me. Even then, I thought I could forget about you. But I can’t.” I grab his arm. His jaw works, bulking from the tension in the muscle. “There is…affection for you that won’t let me.”

  His eyes shift to mine. “Don’t say that, Kylie.” His voice goes down an octave.

  “Just stop…trying to force me away. I couldn’t tell you, and I wouldn’t, and you wouldn’t have asked because we won’t uncover and discover the bests of each other. But I can’t just let you go and see you every day. You know you can’t either.”

  “Don’t try to uncover me, Kylie.”

  “I’m uncovered,” I yell, shoving my hands through my hair.

  “I’m in too deep with you,” he says as I walk closer to him. “You’re not good for me, and I need to stop this. You need to stop this.”

  “That’s a lot easier said than done,” I utter, then hesitantly place my lips to his, feeling the empty sentiment fill when he returns the gesture. I hug him as we kiss, but he doesn’t return it. “Please.”

  He kisses me again as his hands slowly push over my back. His arms tightly wrap around me, and he breaks our kiss, moving his head beside mine, beard scratching my cheek. “I want to tell you I hate you…and I want you to leave me alone.”

  “But you know who and what you are…and your wants don’t matter,” I quote. His hair blankets my face. It smells like desert air and the light scent of the conditioner they give us.

  “Your wants matter,” he states, leaning away but keeping me in his arms.

  “And I want to be with you.” I tug him by his neck to me and kiss him with the affection growing in my chest. My body goes numb as all the oxygen leaves it and quickly refills.

  His body moves with the kiss, pushing me back until my back hits the wall. He grabs one of my legs, lifting it to his side before doing the same with the other. I wrap around him as his body wedges me against the wall.

  I take short, shallow breaths. His room becomes hotter, and the j
itters in my stomach kick in, telling me to stop and go at the same time. Pushing over his shoulder, I reach up his brawny neck to his long hair and seize it, letting it fall between my fingers. I yank him closer.

  All without interrupting this kiss where our lips join and our tongues meet, he lifts me a little, lips moving lustfully against mine. I’m captivated, sensing he missed me as he tries to pull as much feeling from this kiss as I’m trying to give.

  It sobers to a simple peck before he breaks away. “Ky,” he groans. His voice sounds like it’s forcing itself from his throat. “Stop.”

  “Okay,” I say catching my breath. “Let me down.”

  “Right.” He wraps his hands around my legs tighter, turning us, and carrying me to his bed. He lies over me.

  I lightly touch his face, watching his eyes wash me over, from my hair to my neck and back to my eyes. I bite my lip to fight my smile, but it breaks through as I say, “I like how your actions contradict your words.”

  “I don’t mean for them to,” he says, dipping beside me and lathering my neck with inspirational kisses. “You just got out the shower?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Nothing, you smell like that soap.” He leans back. “I haven’t done anything to you so you can’t leave me alone.”

  But you have, Marc. By comforting me, showing me you care, kissing me, showing your feelings too, and saving me over your twin. I owe you my heart. “You have done enough.”

  His purple eyes bore into mine. “You are not good for me, Kylie. You have to leave me alone.”

  “You want to let me go?”

  He looks off to his left, and his head falls forward as he says, “I can if you stay away from me. But when you come around me or address me first, I can’t.” He glances back at me, then back away. “I need to, but when you’re close and weak, I won’t.”

  “I am not weak.”

  “You are when it comes to me and your parents.”

  I sink deep into his mattress, feeling the truth of that statement bombard me. Only my parents and him can cause that burn in my throat that brings tears to my eyes. They can make me feel like I’m a non-entity without them. Like I need them to survive and battle the world and its invaders.

  His door opens, and Sean charges in, laughing. “Hey Marc!” He’s loud and cheerful before seeing us as we move from the bed. He turns, closing the door.

  “I should go,” I say, looking myself over.

  “You should go.” He takes my hand and comes closer. “Stay away, Ky.”

  “Make me.” I lean forward and kiss him.

  “Mmm…” he groans against my mouth. “I can’t.” He leaves me for the door. Handle in hand, he says, “But I’m working on it. Make it easier for me.”

  I grumble. “Marc, stop with this! Even after this,” I point between us. “You still want that?”

  “You don’t get it, Ky. I cannot go…any further with you.” His voice rises, and I flinch away. “I would put you…” he begins in too low of a whisper. “…before him.” He points toward the door. “And I can’t live like that. You are important and need to be avoided.”

  Unfortunately, I understand, but he should have thought about this before he liked me first. Before he agreed to kiss me and kiss me again and hug me. Before he took away my nightmares―allowing me to rest peacefully without Luke—and held me while I cried without crowding me with questions, and…and…a lot of other things.

  There are a lot of other things I can’t figure out either. “You made me this way. You did do something to me, and it started with you pinning me to the floor and not taking me out when you could have. You initiated the point of interest.”

  “No, you did. With your hidden glances and passionate stares as you watched me. You asked me to kiss you. Remember?” He leans into the corner next to the door.

  I do remember, and what a kiss. He gave me everything without giving me anything in that moment. And now, he’s trying to take it away, replace those memories with either hurt or anger as I regret ever experiencing them with him. He changed a lot for me in that moment, and I won’t let him steal this from me. “I’ll go. Make sure you don’t make me stay or kiss me again,” I say, now at the door.

  There’s a sigh as he drawls, “I’m going to make you stay.”

  “But you don’t want me to.”

  “No.”

  “And you hate me.”

  “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly.

  “But you like me…”

  “Sometimes.”

  Chapter Five

  We rose early this morning. The rain brought cooler days, and though we know it’s temporary, we soak it up. Still, rushing to meetings before the morning bell dongs makes me regret being a Creation after the long, quarrelsome night I had.

  General Jord had Luke and Marc wake the leading Creations and ordered us to meet immediately. He stands before us, leaning over on his knees, clutching a communication device in his hands. “They are building labs on the other side of the hole. The Guidance wants to start dissection of the undead. They think it’s more than an infection,” he says to the small group of us. It’s about time he comes out and explains that the Vojin put forth the threat. Secrets should not be kept from us, the Creations who are fighting against these things. We have the right to know exactly what we are up against, and it shouldn’t be by happenstance.

  Jord allowed Cory to sit in on this meeting, but in the back of the room. Maybe only as a courtesy. Jord continues, “After the construction is completed, they are going to bring in two bridges they will build to cross over the hole.” Those are going to be two very long bridges. That hole was the length of a football field and crowded with Zombies. Posts will need to be built into the hole, among the Zombies. Or maybe they will use a stabilizing structure to handle the stretch. “There will be frequent sweeps by us to make sure the undead do not crowd or hollow in the labs while construction is under way. Because construction will only be permitted in the daytime, they require us to go out and make sure nothing is there in order to keep it secured for the workers. After these labs are completed, there may be a couple of you stationed there permanently.”

  Jord pauses. We wait for him to finish while he looks over the communicator, sliding his index finger upward on the screen. Over the past month, Cory has been able to sit in on discussions and be included on territory sweeps. He and I haven’t talked, so I’m not sure what’s going on yet, but I assume he’s working to prove himself, and Jord may be susceptible to these actions.

  As though he could sense my thoughts were centered on him during the pause in our leader’s instructions, Cory takes the available seat next to me.

  “They do not have a date yet,” Jord continues, “for when the new facilities will be completed. Once they are, we will start sweeps over there. It will be after the bridges are installed.” He nods, and we nod in agreement. “Attend to your day as usual. Luke and Marc, meet me in my office in one hour.”

  We relax once he’s out of the room. Cory stands in front of me, smile as wide as his shoulders. “Hey,” he greets, extending his hand.

  I take it, allowing him to help me from the floor of the auditorium hall. Narrowing my eyes, I question, “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

  “C’mon.” He turns, grabs my hand, and pulls me from the hall. “I can’t get my spot back, but I’m no longer an outcast,” he reveals once we’re outside and out of earshot.

  “Or,” I sing, unconvinced, “that’s what they made you think so they can see what you’re up to because we’re leaving for war soon.”

  “They are pushing off the war. Remember the Creations went out to the other countries?”

  “Yeah,” I nod, knitting my brows, confounded he knows about this before me. We’ve never pushed off a war deployment for any reason. We should be relieving the other Creations who’ve been fighting the past ten years.

  “Well, they have Zombies tearing through their land as well. Everyone wants the same t
hing right now. To save humanity.”

  So the Vojin are to blame. Seems their plan for the Zombies to be a distraction and start the demoralizing of humanity is working out the way they desired. I chuckle, realizing, “We’re stopping killing each other so we can kill them first.”

  Cory snorts and shrugs once. “And then back to the same old same old.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. Another day in the life, although this slight change may shake up our country, our world. “You think it will ever be over?”

  “What? War?”

  “Yes.” Will we ever be peaceful like the aliens planned?

  He snorts. “Yeah, after it’s destroyed and reconstructed.”

  My steps falter, though I avoid tripping. I crane my neck to look at Cory. “What?” I snap unintentionally, shocked by the similarities of his statement and the Vojin’s plan. I swallow hard and force a smile.

  His wide-eyed gaze meets mine, bewildered, aware of his mistake, but he laughs it off saying, “I don’t know, probably not. I need to go.” Without another word or glance my way, he runs toward the fields behind me.

  Only a Vojin would say that. Those are their words. A Creation would never say ‘destroy to reconstruct.’ There is only destruction. We do not try to reestablish what we have destroyed. There would be nothing to reconstruct. Whatever it was, was abolished for a reason. Why would we waste funds and time putting it back together?

  “Reconstruct?” A voice comes from behind me, causing me to jump as I turn back around. Jord’s exiting a nearby training hall.

  My mouth goes dry. Unsure of how much he’s heard and how damn good his ears are as we were over ten feet away and speaking low enough our voices would whisper. I hurry to answer, “The same thing I was wondering, sir.” I force my brows to draw inward and my upper lip to curl in disgust. I have played my role well my entire life, and I’m accustomed to lying and covering things up.

  “That’s odd for a Creation to use that word. Reconstruction.” Jord strolls toward me, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders square, and eyes piercing through me with his brows knit tight to their middle. “What do you make of that, Captain?” His casual tone leaks suspicion. His brows relax, and his once accusing scowl flips interrogatively with narrowed eyes, a strict tilt back to his head and lips in a tight line as he glares down at me.