A Gray Area

by Amy Sumida

  “This is everything we've found so far.” He passed the folders out; one to each of us.

  “Who are these people?” Lily—codename: Tempest—asked as she perused the papers in her folder.

  “The residents of the gray area,” Connolly said. “I've also included their most recent medical exams, weather reports for the past thirty days, soil samples, and police reports.”

  “How far back do the police reports go?” Jason, our group's lie detector, went by the codename Veritas. He was scanning the pages as if he could not only hear deception but also read it.

  “A month,” Connolly said grimly.

  Jason shared a look with Leo, the Maestro.

  “What am I missing?” Davorin flipped through.

  “The police reports end about a week ago,” I said. “Sporadic burglaries, car break-ins, and a few domestic violence calls were the norm until six days ago. Then nothing.”

  Connolly nodded. “We thought that was suspicious as well.”

  “I told you how people were staying away from the area,” I reminded him. “I'm sure that includes thieves. And as far as domestic violence; those people were too despondent to attack anyone.”

  “I think we can safely assume that's when this began,” Malik concluded. “That gives us a date of January 9th.”

  “And look at the soil samples,” Leo pointed out. “There are no nutrients in it or any of the organisms normally found in dirt. Shit, there's hardly anything to it at all.”

  “It's as if it's not soil at all,” Connolly said cryptically. “That's what one of our scientists said.”

  “What the fuck?” Jason whispered harshly.

  “Judging by the medical exams, the residents of the area were perfectly healthy. I highly doubt that they are still so hearty. In fact, I'd like for you to come in for a physical, Ms. Madison,” Connolly said.

  “A physical?” I stiffened. “Why?”

  “To be certain that you haven't been affected by the area,” Connolly said as if it were obvious.

  “I haven't been.” I gave him a long look.

  “Oh, right. You're immortal.” Connolly widened his blue eyes at me. “Perhaps it would be best if you investigated inside the area alone.”

  Malik started to protest, but I gave him another look. We hadn't shared the secret of his new immortality with anyone outside of our group and closest friends. We didn't want people to know that the Amaranthine Elixir was still floating around in my blood and that if you happened to be of a race that ingested blood to heal yourself—such as the Bleiten or Ungaru—you could take a sip from my throat and become immortal. I was a walking, talking fountain of youth.

  When I'd saved Malik by giving him my blood to drink, his eyes had changed from black to deep amethyst; just a shade darker than mine. He had to wear eye films (the Bleiten version of contact lenses) when he'd gone home to see his father; covering the amethyst with his old black. He wouldn't have lied to his father except that the whole reason Malik had been sent to Earth was to get the elixir from me. If he had sauntered in and announced that he'd been made immortal by drinking my blood, not only would his father have wanted him to bargain for more of the stuff, but word would have gotten out about it and the Ungaru—the source of vampire myths—would have been after me too.

  Malik had never failed a mission, and I knew it had stung for him to go home and fake defeat, but his reasons for being on Earth had changed. As did his priorities. Now, instead of bargaining for my blood, Malik was protecting its secrets along with me. Sometimes, I could hardly believe it. That all of my past beliefs about Bleiten had been so wrong and that their prince loved me enough to hide things from his father just to protect me.

  But I had saved Malik's life when I'd made him immortal. That probably had something to do with it. It would be bad form to betray my secret after I'd fed him my blood to heal him from a fatal poison. At least he didn't have to wear the eye films on Earth; no one knew him well enough to notice that his eyes had changed. Very few people had the balls to look a bleiten in the eye, to begin with.

  “I don't have a problem with that,” I finally answered Connolly. “But I think we should also post a watch outside the area. I'd like to know where its residents go when they leave.”

  “And I'd like to know if the area has been growing.” Kyrian—the Triari Arc (Arc also happens to be his codename) who my uncle, King Jovan, had sent to protect me—had kept quiet so far. But now, he looked around the table grimly.

  Nope; a growing gray hadn't occurred to any of us.

  “We already have men staking out both ends of the area,” Connolly said. “They're recording everything on video. I'll have other teams sent to follow the residents.”

  “Have you spoken to any other countries?” Kyrian asked. “This could be global.”

  Kyrian was on a roll.

  “No; we haven't.” Connolly looked uncomfortable. “The Secretary of Homeland Security thought that we should conduct some research before we go worrying other governments.”

  “What if other governments are thinking the same thing, but they have more information than we do?” Malik lifted a black brow; sending his sharp features into even more dramatic lines. “I'd say the possible gains outweigh the losses.”

  “I'll speak to the Secretary,” Connolly murmured.

  “And I'll go back to the area and have another look around,” I said.

  “We'll help with the surveillance of the residents.” Davorin waved a hand back at the rest of the team.

  “Let me know if you find anything.” Connolly stood.

  Davorin stood as well. He had to walk Connolly out of the Market. At the door, Dav glanced back at me. He looked worried, but he gave me one of his usual cocky winks anyway.

  Chapter Three

  “Are you certain no one can see me?” Malik asked as we headed down the street toward the gray area. “I can still see me.”

  “I'm adjusting the colors around you to conceal you,” I explained again. “I can't see you but you will be able to see yourself.”

  Malik grunted in acknowledgment.

  We were passing the government surveillance vehicle that was posted outside the gray area, and I nodded to the agents inside the van even though I couldn't see them. They were hidden behind tinted glass with all of their equipment. But I didn't doubt they both saw and noted me. That was their job. As long as they didn't see Malik, we could do ours unhindered.

  “This is it.” I shivered as we stepped into the gray area.

  “I feel something strange,” Malik murmured. “But everything looks fine to me. The colors are all here.”

  “I see only gray,” I whispered.

  A man stumbled out of a townhouse and then strode by us. Malik pressed against my back as he slid out of the way.

  “That man looks like death,” Malik said in my ear. “I don't like this. Every instinct I have is telling me to run. And I never run.”

  “I know.” I reached back and found his hand. “It's far worse when you can see the wrongness as well as feel it.”

  We held onto each other tightly as we continued to navigate the neighborhood slowly. With Malik beside me, I felt confident enough to take my time and really look at everything. A few cars drove down the street and they were as gray as everything else. I looked back the way we'd come and saw colorful cars making U-turns. No one came into the area who didn't have to. It was just as it had been the last time. Gray, gray, and more—

  “Hold on.” I jerked to a stop.

  “What is it?”

  “I see color!” I pulled Malik with me diagonally across the dismal street and over to a cement stoop.

  Nestled next to the stone stairs and growing out of a crack in the sidewalk was a flower. Its colors were so vibrant that they seemed garish against all the gray. A heart of canary yellow spread into neon purple petals. Its stalk was lime green and there were long leaves curling off it that were tipped in red. I bent to look at it and felt Malik crouch beside me
.

  “I've never seen a flower like that,” Malik whispered. “Is this the color you spotted?”

  “It is,” I whispered back as I hesitantly touched its petals. “It feels like velvet. It's fuzzy.”

  Malik's hand brushed mine as he touched the flower too.

  “The texture is uncommon but not unheard of,” he murmured. “What is far stranger is that it's blooming like this in Winter.”

  I looked around at the icy puddles on the sidewalk. “You're right. This looks like a hothouse flower and it's growing in soil so depleted as to not be soil anymore and surrounded by frigid concrete. It's not possible.”

  “We need to take this in and have it analyzed,” Malik said. “Perhaps there has been a chemical attack here, and we're just starting to see the effects.”

  “A chemical attack!” I hissed. “That never occurred to me.”

  “I've seen enough of them to be familiar with the results,” Malik's voice went grim. “Mutated flora is one of the signs.”

  “I really hate the idea of plucking it. Perhaps I can uproot it.” I dug my fingers into the crack and loosened the earth. The flower roots came away easily, and I pulled the whole plant up. “It's almost as if it had been planted today.”

  “If it's a mutated flower, that would make sense.” Malik helped me to my feet. “Its entire structure would be remade; including the roots. It would leave them loose in the soil.”

  “Let's get the mutant home.” I cradled the flower in the curve of my arm and started heading back the way we'd come.

  We were nearly to the entrance of the area when a candy apple red car came plowing down the road. It entered the zone—obviously going too fast to sense that this was a bad idea—and then screeched to a stop. I gaped at it as the color instantly started bleeding out of the paint. A woman was driving. She screamed as color started draining from her as well. I moved toward her, but she finally pulled herself together enough to slap the car in reverse and back out of the zone. She pulled off to the side of the road as soon as she was free and just stared out of the windshield with horrified eyes.

  I hurried up to her and rapped on her window. The woman jerked as if I'd slapped her. She was pale, but her color was returning. I breathed out a sigh of relief. She rolled down the window and gaped at me; her stare as shaky as the hands she rested on the steering wheel.

  “Are you all right?” I asked her.

  She nodded violently. “I think so.” She gave a hysterical laugh. “I don't know what happened. I just had the most horrible feeling.”

  “What kind of feeling?”

  “It was...” She stared into the gray area. “It was as if I were being... I don't know. It hurt. Maybe it was the start of a heart attack.”

  “Is that what it felt like? A heart attack?” I pressed. “Did you experience pain in your chest; particularly toward the left?”

  I didn't want to tell the agents across the street to take her in, but I had a feeling it was going to happen anyway. They were already rushing over to us.

  “No,” she whispered. “This is going to sound crazy but it felt as if someone was stealing my soul.”

  “That doesn't sound crazy.” I looked up at the agents and nodded. For her own good, the woman should probably be given a medical exam. “These men are with the Department of Homeland Security. We've been monitoring this area, and we believe there might be a chemical leak here. They're going to take you to the hospital to be checked out if that's okay with you? We'd like to get you seen as soon as possible.”

  “Chemical leak?” Her shoulders sagged with relief; it was something she could understand. Something that could be handled. Not like the theft of her soul.

  The woman gathered up her purse and keys, rolled up the window, and got out of the car. She did all of the normal things people do when they park a vehicle, but she was doing them slowly and methodically; as if it was centering her. She locked the door and then something occurred to her.

  “Can I see some ID?” She asked the men in black beside me.

  “Smart woman.” I gave her shoulder a pat while the men fished out their IDs and showed them to her. “You must be feeling better already.”

  “I am.” She gave me a little smile. “Are you going to put up a roadblock or something?”

  “Yes, Ma'am,” one of the agents took over for me. “We're handling it. Please, come with us. Let's get you taken care of.”

  I watched as they led her away. They hadn't even noticed the flower I was holding.

  “I want to go back to the Market,” I said. “I hate to say this, but I don't feel safe out here.”

  Malik's hand slipped around mine. “I agree. I'll feel safer with you behind a ward.”

  We walked swiftly back to the car.

  Chapter Four

  FEAR sat around the same table we'd been at earlier that morning; one in the corner furthest from the bar and the smattering of patrons. But this time, the table had a centerpiece.

  The gaudy bloom sat in a highball glass on the rough wood; its bone-white roots dangling in the water while the rest of it floated on the surface. If it hadn't been so damn beautiful, it would have looked fake; a garish, silk flower. But it wasn't garish, despite its outrageous color scheme. It was amazing. A thick perfume wafted out from it; something that made me inhale deeper and deeper. And then there was its aura.

  All living things have auras. My talent not only allows me to see them but to also interact with them. I could alter the hazy energy around this flower if I wanted to. I could make it grow or die. But I didn't want to alter anything about it. It was phenomenal as it was. Its aura pulsed in a thick, cantaloupe cloud around it; nearly as vibrant as human auras. Cantaloupe; the color of new beginnings. I frowned.

  “That is not normal.” Davorin stared at the flower as if it might bite him. Hell, I wouldn't be all that surprised if it did.

  “No, shit,” Lily huffed.

  “Are you sure you want to give it to the humans?” Kyrian asked me.

  “What would I do with it?” I countered. “I'm not a scientist. I can't tell you what chemicals mutated it.”

  “This may not be the result of chemicals.” Kyrian's deep blue eyes were worried as he ran a hand through his silky, blond hair to massage his scalp. “I have some basic analyzing equipment on my ship. I'd like to take a sample and analyze it.”

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “I don't have a problem with that. Anybody disagree?”

  The others shook their heads.

  “I'd also like you to hold off on contacting Connolly until after I've analyzed it,” Kyrian went on.

  “Sneaky,” Landry noted as he popped by our table for his car keys.

  I'd taken one of his cars out to investigate. I don't have a car; I normally used cabs. I passed Landry the keys, and he gave me a heavy look.

  “You disapprove?” I asked him.

  “The opposite.” The bark-like skin of Landry's face crinkled into grooves as he smiled. “I agree with the Arc; learn everything you can before you decide if you want to pass it on to the humans.”

  “Decide?” I lifted a brow. “You think we should hold things back from our employers?”

  “See?” Landry pointed at my shocked face. “I knew you'd have this reaction. You think that a contract makes you loyal. They may be paying you, but they haven't bought you, Amara. Think! If this involves Supes, the humans might mishandle it. Even if their intentions are good, they may not be looking at things with the proper perspective. You need to be careful what you hand over to them.”

  “I agree with Kyrian and Landry,” Malik said. “It doesn't hurt to look over everything first. They've got that woman. That should keep them busy for awhile.”

  “What woman?” Landry asked.

  “A woman drove into the area,” I explained. “She and her car instantly started going gray. She screamed and backed out just in time. Her color returned, but the agents watching the area took her in for an exam.”

  “She said it f
elt as if something were stealing her soul,” Malik added with a grim look around the table. His deep, rough voice made it seem even more sinister.

  “Stealing her soul?” Kyrian glanced at the rest of the team. “That can't be good.”

  “But she fled,” Lily said. “Why was she able to run when the residents weren't?”

  “My best guess is that it was something insidious; something that spread slowly at first,” Kyrian murmured. “It may have infected the humans while they slept and then they were too far gone to care about running.”