The Vessels

by Anna Elias

  Sam sat back. “As hideous as that is, Blaze, there’s nothing illegal. What about it will you try to prove?”

  “Howard made me update his website. It was one of those chores he demanded ‘for the privilege’ of allowing me to live there. He treated my mom and me like slaves, yelling and throwing his money around like we were lucky to have it.” He sneered. “So, I got even. I hacked into his personal emails on another server and decoded one from Matthew Chase that used a different address. He talked about a group of former employees at another casino preparing another lawsuit, this one with enough evidence to put Chase away. Or at least cause a massive, multi-million-dollar class action suit that might actually break him.”

  Sam waited. Link watched.

  Blaze exhaled to control his anger. “In the email, Chase admitted to negligence and improper maintenance, but he promised to pay Howard a ton more money if he made their evidence go away. Evidently, Howard did because the suit never came to light and he suddenly had enough money to buy the four-hundred-thousand-dollar Bentley he always wanted, which he painted the same color as the Rolex Chase gave him after winning their case in Reno.”

  Sam twisted his wedding ring.

  Blaze stopped. He couldn’t read Sam and wondered if he should finish.

  “Go on,” Link said, seeming to understand his concern. “They accepted me.”

  Blaze uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I decided to blackmail Chase over that email, using a fake identity and asking for one million dollars in unmarked bills. I didn’t think he’d miss it, given he was, like, a gazillionaire, but it would be plenty to get Mom and me away from Howard for good.”

  Sam leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  Blaze bit his lip. Here we go. “But the step-monster caught me. I came home from school the next day to find him in his office, at his computer, with this hacker cop who’d found my email and my virtual trail.”

  “But that cop never found Chase’s email,” Link added. “The one Blaze used for blackmail. That’s the part I don’t get.”

  “Me either.” Blaze sighed. “I was total stealth, too, but somehow Chase found out it was me. He and Howard deleted any trace of his original email before calling the cops.” Anger burned his cheeks. “My mom begged and pleaded, but Howard told her he had me arrested to ‘teach me a lesson.’ I think it was to get me out of the way.”

  Link nodded.

  “On the upside ...” Blaze brightened. “I met Link and rigged the fire that—”

  Link cleared his throat.

  “I, um, I fought the fire that helped Link escape.”

  Sam looked between them.

  Blaze swallowed. “And now, he asked me to come here and start over with some sick new life that lets me hack for the greater good.” He laughed, a thin, nervous ribbon of sound.

  Sam toyed with a pencil from the desk. “How can you prove Howard did anything wrong?”

  “He keeps his cyber world as slick as his Bentley. But before I ran away, I downloaded his emails, found journal entries of offshore deposits, and rigged a webcam in his office. I can see what he does, hear his calls, and read what’s on his computer screen. The camera will record, too, if I set it.” Blaze opened his hands, not realizing how hard he’d been clenching them.

  “What happened to your mom?” Sam asked.

  Bile rose again and Blaze held his stomach.

  “I’m sorry.” Sam stood and put a hand on Blaze’s shoulder. “We’ll save that for another time.”

  He nodded.

  “Everyone here has something to resolve,” Sam said. “You can pursue yours and investigate your stepfather’s activities. As long as you don’t hurt anyone here or jeopardize this place or these people in any way.”

  Blaze dried his damp palms against his jeans. “Agreed.”

  “You’ll get free room and board and a weekly stipend.” Sam paused. “But I have one additional condition. Finish high school.”

  “What?” Blaze blurted the word before he could stop it. School sucked, the kids bullied, and the teachers asked him to explain the tech and IT stuff. He was a junior. No way could he handle another year, not even to graduate. “I can’t go back. Please.”

  “The shelter offers a GED program. You can finish here, while you work.”

  He sagged with relief and extended a hand. “Deal.”

  Sam shook it, warm and firm. “Welcome to the Vessels. Link will fill you in.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  DOC

  A few days later, Blaze sat in the same office where he had met Sam. A new wide workbench had replaced the desk and filing cabinet, and was topped with a rebuilt computer and monitor. Blaze picked through a small mound of circuits, wires, devices, and other electronic parts, selecting some pieces and tossing others aside.

  Liam entered with more metal scrap. “This is all of it.”

  “Dude.” Blaze’s eyes feasted on the parts. “You are sick.”

  His words were met with silence. Liam was already gone.

  “This place gets more whacked by the minute,” he mumbled, sweeping his arm across the pile and spreading the pieces.

  “What are you making?” Avani asked, entering with Link.

  Blaze jumped. “Oh my God. Knock next time.”

  Link laughed. “It’s more fun when we don’t. What’s all this?”

  “There’s got to be an easy way to track you in the field. I’m just not sure what it is.”

  “We’ve only got four days.”

  “Yeah. No pressure.”

  Avani laughed. “A bracelet or ring could work.”

  “That might come off. Or someone may steal it.” Blaze plucked an old motherboard from the heap and scrutinized it against the light.

  “Something we swallow?” Link suggested.

  Blaze laughed. “Yeah. Then flush down the nearest toilet ten hours later.”

  “We could take them like a prescription,” Link chided. “One a day for seven days until the spirit has been successfully removed from your system.”

  Avani spied a bent, rusty dog tag in the pile. “What about a chip? Like the ones vets put into dogs and cats in case they get lost.”

  Both boys turned to her. Blaze grinned.

  Three days later, Eva studied three tiny, wafer-thin chips under the exam light. The magnifying glass she’d added to the swing arm enlarged them to the size of a cracker. “How did you make them, love? Without going blind, I mean.”

  Blaze held up homemade, jeweler-style glasses. Chewed nails tipped the end of each thin finger.

  “Groovy.”

  He frowned.

  “Cool. Rad. The bomb.”

  His lips pursed.

  “Off the hook. On fire. The shiznik?”

  He shook his head.

  She sighed. “Why do I bother? The moment I catch on, you kids will just think up something new.”

  “I’m helping you prevent Alzheimer’s.”

  She scowled playfully. “Go get them, Einstein.”

  Blaze left and Doc finished inspecting the minuscule chips. The design was brilliant. They would not hurt after the initial implant and could last for years. But even though Blaze might be able to track them around the world, how could she offer help if one fell into trouble? And what did trouble even look like? Doc blew out a sharp breath and tucked a curl behind her ear. Her eyes fell to the waiting tray of sterilized instruments ready to implant the first chip. Of all the ways she’d pictured her life going, of all the places work might have led, none had looked anything like this.

  Blaze returned with Link and Avani. “Tal’s on her way.”

  Eva pushed the magnifier back, not surprised to hear Tal would come last. Healthy skepticism was understandable, but Tal dragged her doubts around like shackles. She’d made a choice to become a Vessel, and she needed to accept it before the spirits arrived. Tomorrow night.

  Link slipped off his shirt and jumped up on the table’s covered foam pad. “If I liv
e, you guys are good.”

  Blaze bopped Link’s toned arm. “Be nice or I’ll turn off the tracking.”

  Eva donned a pair of latex gloves and swiped an alcohol pad over the skin on Link’s right shoulder, just above the blade. After injecting a local anesthetic, she curled her fingers around the cauterizing pen. “Here goes.”

  He flinched as she sliced a pea-sized opening into his dense muscle and navigated arthroscopic instruments inside. She steered the chip between the thin layers of trapezius and supraspinatus muscles, inserting it next to the bony spine of his shoulder blade where both muscles attached. Once the chip was in place, Doc removed the instruments and applied pressure to the small bloody incision, covering it with antibiotic and sealing it with a butterfly bandage. She dabbed away the damp sheen on her forehead. “Doing all right, love?”

  Link craned his neck to look at the covered wound. “Cool.”

  Doc patted his other shoulder. “Right then. Well done.” He jumped down, and she rolled her neck to loosen stiff muscles before tossing the used gloves in the trash and donning another pair. “Next.”

  Avani perched on the table in Link’s place. Eva moved the girl’s shirtsleeve and studied her narrow shoulder. She sized up the differences and determined how to navigate less muscle and more prominent bone. She sterilized the girl’s skin, numbed the spot, and gripped the cauterizing pen. “Here we go, love.”

  Across the room, Blaze pushed buttons on his homemade tracking device. The screen beeped, and a lone red GPS dot blinked over their current location. He grinned at Link. “It works.”

  Tal entered the room as Doc guided her instruments between layers of Avani’s lean muscle. She watched dubiously while Eva’s skilled fingers sandwiched the chip next to the scapula’s sharp ridge, withdrew the tools, and bandaged the opening. “Does it hurt?” Tal asked.

  Avani jumped down. “More like a pinch.”

  Tal examined her shoulder as Doc prepped the final set of tools. An hourglass-shaped butterfly bandage covered the incision, but the chip showed through as a slight smooth bump under her skin.

  “The muscles will accommodate soon enough,” Doc explained. “The chip will sink in and no one will be the wiser.”

  Tal smirked. “Great. Then the choppers can find us when we’re dead. Fire the cannons loud enough so we know who’s left.”

  Doc rolled her eyes and popped on a third set of gloves. “Come on.”

  Tal climbed onto the table, reluctant. “This’ll be great until some spirit doesn’t want to be found and pushes it out.”

  Doc ignored the comment and pulled Tal’s sleeve out of the way. She cleaned her skin with alcohol and squirted a short spray of anesthetic to test the needle. Tal cringed. Doc smiled. “To keep it from hurting.”

  Tal fidgeted.

  “Be still.” Doc injected the medicine then readied the cauterizing pen.

  Tal squirmed. “Will it bleed?”

  “Not nearly as much as you did when you arrived. Now sit still.”

  Tal turned to Link and Avani. “Aren’t you worried about any of this? Spirits, Vessels, creeping tattoos, implanted chips?”

  Avani watched Doc make the incision. “I trust Sam. And I believe in the spirits.”

  “Me, too,” Link replied. “I’m also happy to stay out of jail.”

  Blaze chuckled from across the room.

  Tal frowned as Doc inserted the chip. “Sam’s name is completely missing from this place. On every form and online site.”

  Blaze fell silent. Link’s shoulders tightened.

  “What do you mean?” Doc focused to keep her hands steady.

  “It’s true. Up to the state level. The contact is some guy named Diego Ruiz.”

  Doc relaxed. “Diego is Sam’s best mate, love.” She nestled the chip into place. “He started this place. Sam took over when he left.”

  “Then why didn’t they change names on the paperwork? Is Sam hiding something? Or maybe hiding from something? Or someone?”

  Avani and Link shot Doc a look.

  Blaze stepped closer. “Do you know?”

  Eva took her time to place the chip and extract her tools. “We may not know a great deal about Sam. But one thing is certain.” She applied ointment and a bandage, then slid Tal’s shirt back into place and looked at the four of them. “His heart and soul are committed to this place, to this Program, and to each one of you. He takes the highest risk in leading this and doing so without having all the answers first. Whatever concerns or questions we have, there’s no doubt he has more.”

  Tal rubbed her shoulder and jumped down.

  “It works,” Blaze said, excitement tinged with pride. “I got you and Avani, too.” He showed them their respective blue and green dots pulsing alongside Link’s red one on the small screen.

  Eva gently turned Tal to face her. “Whatever this Program is, Tal, it’s a bloody big improvement over where you were when Liam found you and Sam took you in. Never mind the nearly two pints I pumped into your veins. Give something back now, if only your trust. This place saved you. It has saved all of us in some manner, and we’ve only just begun.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE ROGUE

  An attendant announced safe arrival to San Francisco and opened the cabin door. Matheus watched helplessly as his hands unbuckled the seat belt from his lap. The life in his sick, pasty body was fading by the hour, and all he could do was watch from one tiny corner of his mind and pray God would take him before the monster inside butchered anyone else.

  As the Rogue forced this sick body off the plane, a daunting, invisible energy struck him from beyond the jetway. He discovered why as soon as he limped to the terminal. Two of them waited, both disguised as his Brazilian parents. The heavyset “mother” wore a long bright, colorful dress; the “father” wore khaki pants and a short-sleeved shirt. Their clothes didn’t matter and neither did their skin. Their golden-green eyes gave them away.

  Spirit Guard.

  The woman rushed over in a wispy cloud of jasmine perfume and scooped him into a hug. Her arms jiggled like jelly, but her inner strength was titanic. “Hello, Eric.” She acknowledged his Spirit with an easy smile, speaking fluent Portuguese so what was left of Matheus would understand. She wove her arm through his to pin him into place. “We’re so happy to see you.”

  “Yes. Welcome back, son,” said the man. He smiled and linked his thin, iron-like arm through Eric’s on the other side.

  “How did you ...?” Eric knew the answer before completing the question.

  Dallas. The attendant who sparked at their touch must have recognized him and called ahead. But her eyes had appeared normal and her presence had felt human.

  “Pinnacle,” the man replied, reading Eric’s thoughts. “No mortal would know.”

  Neither would a Spirit inside a mortal shell, Eric thought.

  “Precisely,” the woman replied.

  Eric kicked himself for forgetting. The Spirit Guard couldn't track an unmarked human body, but they heard any thoughts they wished—mortal, Vessel, and spirit. The Pinnacle had marked him getting on that flight. Their scanning was the energy he’d felt getting off.

  They secured Eric between them and walked toward the terminal. To anyone passing by, they appeared to be a happy family reunited after a long trip, except for the sickly frown on the young man in the middle.

  “There’s a new Program on this continent,” the woman said, and she smiled at a bawling baby. The infant stopped mid-cry and grinned. “We will take you there until the ship arrives.”

  She spoke for Matheus’s benefit—otherwise they would have conversed in thought.

  “You will board and return for questioning,” the father continued. “We will save the young man you’ve stolen, and clear his mind.”

  What little remained of Matheus tingled at their words. This slow torturous death was soon to end and he would live to get his body back after all. The thought of having his mind altered frightened him, but if it mean
t not having to remember what his grisly, blood-soaked hands did to that poor man in the boat, he’d willingly forget everything else. Matheus relaxed as these two powerful beings escorted him to safety.

  Eric, on the other hand, yanked and pulled at their unbreakable hold. Only one choice remained.

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Matheus bristled at the lie.

  The Spirit Guards stopped and turned, peering into Matheus’s cold, black eyes.

  He struggled to blink, to communicate, to somehow warn them. Eric squelched his efforts.

  “Human,” Eric said. “Have to meet the needs.”

  Seconds passed, and he feared they would refuse.

  The man and woman exchanged a look.

  “He has to go,” Eric hissed through crusty lips and pointed toward the bathroom. “It’s an enclosed space with one entrance. I’ll bring him right back.”

  “You’re not going alone.”

  Eric sighed. It was too much to suppose they would be stupid enough to let him move anywhere on his own. But all he needed was a moment.

  A few men exited the bathroom and the father escorted him inside. He led Eric to the stall closest to the door and released his hold.

  Eric rushed in and locked the door. Through the crack, he eyed the Spirit Guard leaning against the tiled wall.

  Eric cloaked his thoughts and silently crawled under the partition into the next stall, and the one after that, until he was furthest from the door.

  Matheus felt the burn as Eric scanned him like an MRI: his lungs hissed like flattened balloons, his stomach lurched, perpetually nauseous, and his muscles barely held to his weakened bones. Even so, the Spirit seemed to think he would survive the trip, whatever that meant, and Matheus clung to that shard of hope.

  Eric sneered at Matheus’s pitiful thoughts. Hope of any size would be meager and short-lived. His body would survive the trip, but there wouldn’t be much left to work with at the other end. Eric would have to find another human soon after.

  Direct transport was almost impossible in an unmarked human, especially one this frail and infirm. But Eric was unusually strong, which was why Elysium had sent two Spirit Guards, never mind a Pinnacle. God knows how many more were out there, watching for him to pass through so they could haul him back.