Nero Blood

by Keary Taylor

  Copyright © 2019 Keary Taylor

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  First Edition: February 2019

  Cover art by Eddy Shinjuku

  Book design by Inkstain Design Studio

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Taylor, Keary, 1987-

  Nero Blood (Neron Rising Saga): an episode / by Keary Taylor. – 1st ed.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Blood Descendants Universe

  The Fall Of Angels Trilogy

  Three Heart Echo

  The Eden Trilogy

  The Mccain Saga

  What I Didn’t Say

  TO VIEW ALL OF KEARY’S BOOKS, CLICK HERE

  Oh, slag. Oh, slag. Oh, slag.

  I’m stupid. So slam stupid. I’ve always been reckless. It’s always been one of my biggest flaws. I barrel in with my head down and just explode all over everything.

  Why the void did I not think of this?

  As our ship aims for the gutted, dark planet that is Isroth, my entire body breaks out into a cold sweat.

  Cyrillius is galaxy-famous for being the only person who can somewhat control the Kinduri and employ them. He has thousands of them here and on Gara Lune. As Valen said, if they touch me, they’re going to know my plan.

  If they touch me, they’ll know I’m a Nero. And Cyrillius knowing I’m a Nero will be so much worse than him torturing me for plotting his murder.

  He’ll use me.

  Just like he’s used Valen.

  My heart is threatening to beat clean out of my chest and smack right into the view port window. It’s nearly impossible to close my eyes and search for calm.

  I needed more training. I may have made up for solars’ worth in the three lunars I was on Salypso studying under Zara and Kyril, but I need more.

  I don’t know if what I’m about to try to do is even possible. But I have to try, or my life is over.

  With my eyes closed, I let myself spiral down into my own mind. I reach out into my own brain. I comb through all of my recent memories.

  You have to do this, I whisper to myself.

  I don’t know if this is even possible, myself argues back.

  You have to do it.

  I find my memories, all the recent ones, like they are books on a shelf. I picture myself taking them, one by one. I take them to a vault in the center of myself. One by one, I set them inside.

  I start from the beginning: the day Dominion came to Korpillion. I take the memory of my escape to the Airspace. I take the memory of seeing Valen for the first time. I take the first time I used Neron that day.

  I take all my uncertain thoughts and fears about being a Nero, and I put them in that vault. I find my conversations with Valen, and put them inside. I take the time he came to me on The Corsair and the best moments of my life when I was in his arms and my lips permanently promised themselves to his, and I store them away, safe.

  I find every moment of my time on Salypso and every second of my training and tuck it away.

  I take all the visions I’ve had of my future with Valen, serving Cyrillius. I place all thoughts of Edan and my plan of killing Cyrillius into the vault.

  And I close it all up.

  I tell myself not to forget the memories, but to hide them. Where the Kinduri can never find them.

  It’s as if the past five lunars never happened.

  “You okay?”

  Edan’s voice rips me out of my own mind and my eyes open once more. I find him looking at me with concern in his eyes.

  “I’m fine,” I say, but I don’t think that’s really the truth. My voice sounds tinny from the collar locked around my neck and covering my mouth.

  “You sure?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because you kind of looked like you were either going to hurl or blow up the entire ship with your mind.”

  I huff a laugh, shaking my head.

  It’s just one of the many things I love about Edan Calwin. He says everything straight. “I’m about to march into the heart of Isroth and try to do something impossible. Cut me a little slack if I need two seconds to collect my thoughts.”

  “Eh,” he says, looking at me in this way I can’t really describe. “I know that’s not what you were really doing, but whatever.”

  “We are approaching the presidential courtyard,” the Frank’s voice interrupts whatever bantering Edan and I would have continued with.

  Immediately, my eyes go back to the view port.

  Where Korpillion is vertical, Isroth is flat and empty. The tallest building I can see for miles and miles can’t be more than ten stories high. It sits behind the Presidential Compound and from the blue light that glows through the cracks, I know it’s where they keep their Neron core that powers the planet.

  Everything is grouped together. I see soldiers’ quarters, training facilities, big buildings I know are crop fields, hangars where ships are stored. Beyond that, it is barren nothingness.

  And there, just in front of us, is the Presidential Compound. It’s a low profile building, no more than three stories tall. It’s made out of some kind of black material, but it’s difficult to tell if it’s stone or wood or synthetic. It sprawls out, huge and hulking.

  But everywhere…everywhere, I see evidence of tunnels. They bore into the ground between buildings, dictating how the base was built. I see hangars that have been built on stilts, spanning over gaping maws that drop down into the belly of the planet.

  I see people around, but every single one of them is dressed in the Dominion uniform.

  There are thousands of soldiers milling about. All dressed in the dark gray uniform of Dominion.

  I know Edan is scared too, because he’s being so quiet. He isn’t making some snide joke, isn’t calling anyone here an insulting name. He’s just silently observing with a dark expression in his ever-tired-looking eyes.

  I’d reach over and grab his hand to comfort us both, but my own hands are still cuffed behind my back, and I’m tied to this chair.

  Slowly, we descend. I can see the courtyard. There’s a huge wall built around the whole thing. Behind it is the nothingness of this depleted planet. The side of the courtyard attaches to the Compound. As we get closer and closer, I see soldiers spill out of the building, circling.

  What the void was I thinking?

  I’m just one slam person. Who do I think I am, taking all of this on?

  How could I drag Edan into this?

  Stop it, I scold myself. Don’t get yourself killed. You have to do this, or you’re going to spend the rest of your miserable life not having what you want.

  That’s him.

  But I don’t let myself think his name.

  I have to keep him locked up in the vault, too.

  As I feel The Corsair touch down in the courtyard, I close my eyes once more for a few moments, pulling calm into myself, and making sure that vault and the past five lunars are locked up tight.

  Stars, Nova, Zayne had once said back on Korpillion. Why do you have to be so slam epic al
l the time?

  I feel it then. Calm washing over me.

  A little smile grows on my face.

  I’ve always been reckless. I run in with my head down.

  And I get slag done.

  “You ready?” Edan asks.

  My eyes side open, and through the view port, I see dozens of soldiers and Kinduri surrounding our ship.

  “I’m ready,” I say.

  The hatch gives a hiss as we decompress. Edan comes to my side, untying me and yanking me to my feet for show. He presses a gun into my side for good measure.

  The hatch lowers and it’s barely even touched the ground before soldiers are spilling into the ship. Dressed in their dark gray uniforms, they aim their Neron weapons at me.

  Through them, steps a figure.

  Her frame might be slight, because she is a woman, but she is incredibly strong, toned, trained. Her blonde hair, slightly lighter in color than mine, is pulled back in a severe bun at the back of her head. Her nose is delicate, except the one place that gives away the obvious fact that it’s been broken at some point. Her lips are full. Her green eyes are piercing.

  She may be beautiful. But she exudes power and dominance.

  “This must be the weapons manufacturer,” she says. Her voice is low and quiet. If it were any louder around us, I never would have heard her. “Thank you for bringing her to us.”

  “She may not have made it easy,” Edan says, lying as easy as he breathes. “But what is money if it’s not hard-earned?”

  Her mouth doesn’t even twitch with a hint of a smile.

  “We can take it from here,” the woman says. “The credits will be deposited into your account shortly.”

  For half a second, my heart jumps into my throat. Edan can’t leave. I need him.

  “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he says, eyeing the woman with dubiousness. “I know how these things work, I’ve been screwed over before. How about I just hang around until I see things squared away?”

  The woman looks at Edan appraisingly. She doesn’t say a word, but suddenly turns on her heel. “Follow me, then.”

  My pulse skyrockets as the soldiers close in around us. One of them extends this…rod, and suddenly a Neron arc darts out of it, just half a second before it attaches to the cuffs around my wrists.

  The burn of Neron bites into my skin, arcing through my entire body and a cry of pain barks out of me before I can control it.

  The initial sting fades quickly, but instead, I’m left with the buzzing hum. It doesn’t necessarily hurt, but it’s irritating. Like my skin has undergone too much stimulation and is now sensitive and raw. The feeling races through my entire body.

  It makes it hard to breathe.

  “Let’s go,” the soldier says. He shoves that rod forward, and as if it’s magnetized to my cuffs, it shoves me forward and I stumble two steps.

  I could control the pain. I could harness that Neron that’s sending waves of energy through my body.

  But there aren’t just soldiers surrounding us. Staggered among them, leading from my ship to the Compound, are half a dozen Kinduri.

  My eyes meet theirs. There is no white in them anymore. I can’t tell if they’d once had blue eyes or green. They’re only black now. Glossy and weeping, leaving constant black trails rolling down their faces.

  Black spreads from their lips, like ink seeping out in every direction.

  Their fingertips are black and withered.

  They wear black, tattered clothes, every one of them.

  I meet their eyes, and they meet mine.

  I could control the pain the Neron is causing me.

  But I have to look normal now. A normal person wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. So I have to bear it.

  I keep my mind empty as the soldiers march me forward, across the blackened earth beneath our feet. I don’t let myself feel anything. I don’t let myself think anything. I only allow observation.

  There are twenty-one soldiers. There is the woman in front of me. There are seven Kinduri.

  One me.

  One Edan.

  The odds are impossible, but I know what I want.

  I know what I have to do.

  Inside, I find a long hallway. There are doors that break off from it. But surrounding me is black floor, black walls, and black ceiling. Small, yellow lights are affixed to the walls every so often, but they don’t feel sufficient. I feel like I’m walking into a cave.

  I steal a glance to my side to look at Edan and see how he’s handling all this. He only looks straight ahead, his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His expression is determined.

  Slam. He’s good at this.

  I’ll forever be grateful for that day I ran into him on Laziria. I need a mad partner in crime.

  The hall is endless. Before too long, there are bodies lining up in the hall. More and more and more Kinduri.

  I feel their soulless gaze on me. I try not to, but still I meet their eyes.

  How could anyone choose to do this to themselves? How could it ever be worth it?

  On and on we follow the woman, past dozens of doors. I’m starting to get antsy. Do we really have to walk through the entire Compound to reach Cyrillius? I thought we had landed in his own courtyard.

  Finally, there ahead, I see the space open. He has to be there. But the hallway narrows just before it opens to the space. Bodies crowd through, bottlenecking. Soldiers and Edan shove up against me, everyone anxious to be firmly present when Cyrillius sets eyes on the woman he’s been after for lunars, sees that she has finally been brought in to meet justice.

  It stinks. Like sweat and death and war as I’m crowded. I feel like I can’t breathe.

  I’m shoved forward and I try not to trip over myself as I’m marched right into the middle of the huge room.

  He may only be the president of a massive company, but like he’s a slam king, Cyrillius sits on a black throne in the middle of the huge room.

  His russet-colored hair is neatly done. His dark gray suit is neatly pressed. He sits poised and calm, only betrayed by a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

  All the Neron deposits on Isroth may have been mined out decades ago, but Neron is everywhere. In our clothing. In each of the soldier’s weapons. In the stones beneath our feet.

  I can feel it. My blood calls to it, and it calls to me.

  My hands are still bound behind my back, but I twist my fingers, taking possession of just a little bit of the Neron arcing from that rod.

  I just begin flattening it out, forming it into a spear, when something screams in my brain.

  My eyes squeeze closed and I want to put my hands to my head, but they’re still bound behind my back. The breath catches in my throat and I cringe in on myself.

  Screams. There are eerie screams echoing in my head.

  Even though my eyes are closed, there are flashes of light. I let them slide open, and find my vision distorted. Everyone around me looks wrong. Their faces are long and stretched out. Their mouths are open wide—too wide. So wide they could swallow me whole.

  Their eyes are entirely white and…blurry.

  The light flashes white and then black and white and black.

  I try to suck in a breath, but it’s impossible. My mouth is stuck open in a horrified O.

  I stagger back two steps, trying to get away from…everyone, with their terrifying stretched out forms, their open, gaping mouths.

  What’s happening?

  What is happening?

  But as I blink, and finally suck in a breath, everyone has returned to their normal selves.

  No one is stretched, no one’s mouths have opened ten times wider than should be possible.

  They’re all acting like nothing at all has happened.

  I realize the Neron I began to form into a deadly weapon has dissipated.

  Instead of determination, my focus to kill Cyrillius right here and now, I find fear singing in my blood and in my brain.

  “You’re a diff
icult woman to find,” Cyrillius says.

  My brain can’t catch up. What just happened? Why…why whenever I think about doing what I came here to do, can I only think of the shrieks I heard?

  Cyrillius smiles and stands, clasping his hands together behind his back, almost as if he is mimicking me. “I would be very interested to hear where you have been the past five lunars. I’ve had billions of eyes looking for you, and until now, you have gone undetected. Hiding that well takes special skill in this day and age.”

  “Go to void,” I breathe as I glare at the man I hate more than anything in this entire universe.

  Cyrillius gives a smile, condescending and controlled. “May I ask where you finally captured her?” He turns to Edan.

  “She was trying to slip away from Laziria,” he says, practicing the lie that isn’t totally a lie. Because if the Kinduri dig into his mind, I need them to see what he says. “Brave little cack-she. I’d heard rumors she was there a while back, but slipped away. How arrogant must she be to think she could keep slipping in and out!”

  Cyrillius makes a noise of acknowledgement and his eyes slip back to me. “So you stole a ship on Korpillion and went gallivanting about the Eon galaxy, is that it?”

  I glare at the evil man, imagining all the ways I wish he would die.

  His face distorts and flickers, a scream ripping through my brain.

  I blink, shaking my head.

  What is happening?

  “Yes,” I say. My lips form words before my brain can plan how I should handle this. “I took what I needed and I got off that planet before you could ruin everything.”

  “And what of the woman you worked with?” he says. He comes to stand in front of me. He’s so tall. He towers a full head taller than me, looking down at me with those warm, brown eyes of his. “The woman who ran the mine? Reena McDyer?”

  Reena. Reena. The offer on her head wasn’t conditional on her being brought in alive. He wants her punished, permanently, for taking what he thinks of as his.

  He wants her dead.

  “She’s dead,” I say, putting as much confidence into my voice as I can. “It was something I hadn’t thought about, that our immune systems might not take kindly to the ecosystems and bacteria of other planets. Guess they say get your vaccinations for a reason.” I’m faking it, all this confidence. I have to be good at it. I have to be a good liar. “We both picked up a bug on one of the planets where we re-supplied. I fell unconscious after the worst few days of my life. When I woke up…” I let my words trail off, letting my eyes fall to the floor for show. “Reena was dead.”