Center of the Universe (Twelfth Keeper)

by Malory, Belle

  His first impulse was to cancel the damned thing, drag Kennedy to the next room, and force her to hear him out. He didn’t, as much as he wanted to. Too many important topics needed to be discussed. So instead, he rushed through the agenda, hoping to get done early. He could find a way to speak to her later. Hopefully.

  He finished up by talking about the land Maxwell Ryder bought from Penelope Little. “Mr. Ryder still has yet to return our calls, so from here on out, we’re taking matters into our own hands. That being said, I need some volunteers to help me survey the land. From what I understand, Mason has already spoken with Gabby about it. She knows the locale, speaks Spanish, and from what I understand some Mayan as well. That will come in handy, since supposedly there are Mayan ruins onsite.” Looking up from his clipboard, he said. “Anyone else up for it?”

  Everyone in the room raised their hand. Everyone except Kennedy, who only a few weeks ago had practically begged him to let her go. Now she was inspecting her fingernails, uninterested. “Let’s see,” he said, roaming over the faces. “I’ll take a few Earth-manipulators. Gowan and Lexie, you two will be perfect. And I need one more…Kennedy. Yep, that should be enough. That’s all for now. Meeting closed.”

  Kennedy gaped at him furiously. As everyone else left the room, she marched over to him and said, “I didn’t volunteer. Choose someone else.”

  “I volunteered you.”

  “You can’t do that. I haven’t been approved for fieldwork.”

  “You have now. Mason trusts you. I’ll get him to sign the papers this week.”

  Getting her fieldwork approval would have made her ecstatic at one time. Now she stared at him through slit eyes like she was being punished. “I’m not going,” she swore. “You can approve whatever you’d like, but I won’t do it. I won’t go with you.”

  Hearing that made his chest ache. It took everything he had not to touch her, not to pull her in his arms and beg her to forgive him for whatever she was angry about. As much as he wanted to, he knew it would only make things worse. “Listen, you’re going whether you like it or not. You’re a keeper of this planet as much as I am.”

  She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind. Turning on her heel to leave, she muttered, “Fine, whatever. I’ll go.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. That was a long way off from the girl he met seven months ago who shied away from the responsibility that came with being a keeper. Pride filled him, thinking of how far she’d come, and how much further she was still capable of going.

  “Kennedy, wait,” he called, running to catch up to her. “Don’t you want to hear my side of things?”

  “Not really, no, I don’t.”

  She walked through the hallway briskly, trying to steer away from him, but he kept up with her pace easily. “So you would sentence a man to death before giving him a fair trial?”

  “Explanations mean less than nothing when I’ve seen the evidence with my own eyes.”

  “You could at least tell me why—” The door to the girl’s locker room automatically opened at her presence, shutting behind her and locking him out.

  He stared at the closed door for several long seconds, wondering what that meant. I’ve seen the evidence with my own eyes.

  All the guilt he felt at Fang’s expense was rapidly disappearing. He doubted Kennedy would believe simple words. Fang must have given her something incriminating—a picture, a video—anything capturing that moment in the hallway. It had to be that moment. What else could it be? Although he had no idea how Fang did it, he knew she was capable.

  Bloody hell, he didn’t have time for this. There was too much at stake, too many more important things to worry about. Maybe he should’ve listened to his conscience in the first place. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten involved with Kennedy. Everything would be so much easier if he hadn’t.

  His stomach clenched. The thought of not being in Kennedy’s life was almost unbearable. Fighting for a world without her in it sounded like a lost cause. He wouldn’t have the energy to try.

  Christ. When had that happened? When had Calaya’s predictions become true?

  Phoenix sighed, deciding to wait for her to come around. Pushing her to hear him out was pointless. She wouldn’t do it; she was too angry right now. He could see it in every stiff line of her body. He could see it in the way she wouldn’t look at him while she spoke. Actually, now that he thought about it…

  For her to be that angry, it could only mean one thing. And he couldn’t help but grin at the realization. How had he not seen it before?

  She loved him.

  Eighteen

  “Talk to me, my love. Please.”

  This was even harder than she imagined. Keeping her eyes on her hands, Kennedy concentrated on wrapping her wrists, weaving the material around and around. She pretended Phoenix wasn’t standing there pleading with her. He didn’t exist anymore. He didn’t matter.

  It had been much easier to pretend he didn’t exist back home. Out of sight, out of mind. Well, the out of sight part was true anyway. But here, with him in her sight, it was agonizing. He didn’t even have to speak to her. During their five-mile run today, he stayed at her pace the entire time, just running beside her in silence. When she sped up, he would too, and the same thing would happen when she slowed down. There was nothing she could do to get away from him either; he was the faster runner. The awful thing was, part of her enjoyed him being there. Part of her came alive at his presence. For a moment she could almost pretend nothing had happened. She could almost believe he hadn’t crushed her heart.

  “We can’t do this, Kennedy. You’re angry. Get it out. Yell at me if you want. Scream if it makes you feel better.”

  Ha. Screaming. What a joke.

  Screaming wouldn’t ease the pain. It wouldn’t dislodge the lump in the back of her throat that never went away no matter how many times she swallowed. And it damn sure wouldn’t change what he’d done.

  Hitting him, maybe…

  Hey now, that wasn’t a bad idea. Kennedy met his gaze for the first time in days. She was momentarily caught off guard by his appearance. He was sweating, having just finished a training match with Davaris. His blonde hair was in a mess of tangles, and his black eyes held onto hers miserably. He looked so upset that she started to reach for him, ready to forgive him for anything. And then she stopped herself and came to her senses, thank God.

  “Kennedy,” he whispered in a choked voice. “Say something.”

  She went back to wrapping her wrists. “Fine. I’ll fight you.”

  “What?” Confusion filled his voice.

  She finished wrapping up the last piece of material, clipped it into place and flexed her fingers. “I said I’ll fight you.” She didn’t bat an eye when she looked at him again. “You told me to get my anger out.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not fighting you, Kennedy. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Fair to whom?” She pushed him in the shoulder. “Trash your chauvinistic sense of fairness and let me have a shot.”

  His jaw clenched and he looked at his shoulder where she’d pushed him. She was getting to him. It was obvious he didn’t want to, but she wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer. If she had to, she would force him to fight—because she felt like ramming her fist into his face, dammit. “So fight me. Unless your afraid?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” he agreed, sounding slightly annoyed. “Deathly afraid.”

  She shoved him again, this time hard enough to sway him back. “Hit me back.”

  He shook his head again, keeping his eyes trained on her. “I won’t hurt you.”

  They were causing a scene. Eyes burned holes in her back, but she didn’t care. “Fight me,” she said again. This time she swung at his face. Instead of punching him, like she was trained to do, she slapped him. Hard.

  Embarrassed, she flexed her hand, feeling the sting. That was such a girl thing to do, not the mark of a trained fighter, and the fact that she had d
one it only made her madder. “Fight me, damn you! Fight me!”

  She didn’t even leave a print. His cheek turned a few shades redder, but that was it. “Ask me anything else,” he pleaded. “I’ll do anything else.”

  She stepped closer to him, feeling her heart slam against her chest at his nearness. “Hit me. Come on and take a swing.”

  “No,” he said, keeping his fists planted firmly at his sides. “I could never hurt you.”

  “I could.”

  They both looked up, startled by the distraction. Fang hopped down from her seat in the surrounding bleachers. She sauntered across the floor, coming to stand directly in front of Kennedy. “If it’s a fight you’re looking for, I’m happy to take his place.”

  “You want to fight me?”

  Fang circled around her, giving her the once over. “We’re both about the same size and height. Of course, I have the most experience—”

  “Okay.”

  Wiping the smirk off Fang’s face sounded as equally satisfying as hurting Phoenix. And if he wasn’t going to fight her, than she was the next best thing.

  “Okay?” Phoenix shook his head, stepping between them. “Kennedy, have you lost your mind? You aren’t fighting Fang.”

  “Why not?”

  “Yeah, why not?” Fang asked from behind him.

  He gaped at her. “She’s got years of experience on you, and,” he added, scowling over his shoulder, “apparently an agenda.”

  Kennedy sidestepped Phoenix, tired of being told what to do. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but this is my decision. And since you won’t fight me, she’ll do just fine.”

  She headed to the center of the room where the sparring matches took place. Fang followed behind, stretching her neck back and forth, wearing a mask of severity. Kennedy didn’t let it intimidate her.

  Somewhere in the background, she heard Davaris talking to Phoenix. “You can’t stop her, Nix. Leave them alone.”

  One of the trainers, Zane, came to stand between them. “If you’re gonna spar, you’re gonna spar by the rules, got it?”

  Kennedy and Fang both nodded. They knew what the rules were.

  “Okay. You begin when I sound the buzzer, and not a second before, got it?”

  Again, they nodded. A crowd gathered around for the fight, mostly keepers and trainers, and a few guys with buzzed heads and bulging muscles Kennedy recognized as military.

  A few moments later, the buzzer went off. Fang didn’t waste any time attacking. Kennedy barely managed to move out of the way before a fist was thrown her way. She ducked, but when she came up, Fang was already waiting for her. She wasn’t so lucky the second time around. Fang struck hard, and the blow hit her square in the chest. The move sent Kennedy tumbling backwards, unable to breathe.

  Inwardly seething, she fought to catch her breath. She wasn’t about to let all her pent up fury go to waste. She faked a right, and when Fang came after her again, she swung her leg around, kicking her clueless rival in the left side. Fang fell to the floor, clutching her ribcage.

  Kennedy took a few deep breaths. She’d put all her strength into that kick, and when she saw that it had worked, one corner of her mouth turned up. Phoenix had taught her that move. Her eyes instinctively sought his, finding him in the middle of the crowd. Pride glowed from within his black eyes, making her forget her anger for a moment.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Fang muttered, standing up.

  She wasn’t lying.

  Fang moved so fast she didn’t have time to blink. She blocked a right, only to be tripped from the left. She fell hard on her stomach. Once Fang had her on the ground, she wouldn’t let her back up. Every time she attempted it, a harder blow brought her down again.

  Rolling out of the way was her only option. She did it quickly, then propped herself up. Fang’s foot was there to stop her. It rammed past her wrist and straight into her jaw. Something cracked, and Kennedy hoped to God it wasn’t her face.

  “Enough!” a gruff voice shouted.

  Didn’t matter though—Kennedy knew she was down for the count. She lied on her side, feeling so much surging pain in her wrist and jaw that she knew she was on the brink of passing out.

  “Phoenix, you can’t!” said a different voice—Davaris, maybe. “She’s a girl!”

  “I don’t care if she’s a fucking girl! I swear to God I’m going to kill her!”

  Scrambling ensued, followed by the sound of the two of them struggling. “Let it go, Nix! She’s your friend, who happens to be apart of our circle.”

  Kennedy craned her head to see Davaris holding Phoenix back, his arms locked around him from behind. “If you do this, you’ll regret it,” he said.

  “I said enough!” said the same voice from earlier, but closer this time. Kennedy glanced up to see the white of Professor Mason’s beard hovering above her. “Fang Chen, I’m barring you from combat for the next week,” he said. “You know the head is off limits, and so is kicking your opponent when they’re down!”

  “Just a week?” came Fang’s sardonic reply. She shrugged, unaffected. “In that case, it was well worth it.”

  “Two weeks then. And you can forget about the flight training you requested.”

  This time she stared at him like he’d gone off the deep end. “You can’t do that!” she cried. “I waited months to get approved!”

  “Say one more thing, and you’ll be waiting years.”

  Her lips tightened into hard, thin lines. She glared at him, and then down at Kennedy, before stomping away.

  Witnessing her disappointment didn’t make Kennedy feel better. In fact, she’d gladly switch places with Fang. The satisfaction of winning would have been worth anything Mason could dish out. I know I’d rather be punished than humiliated.

  Someone’s hands were on her arms and in her hair, gently turning her onto her back. “Kenn—Kennedy, are you okay?” Phoenix’s voice was strained, every syllable coming out choked.

  When she tried to speak, a metallic taste filled her mouth. Blood gushed from her lower lip, throbbing where she’d been kicked.

  “We need to take her to the medic right away.”

  “Calm down, Nix, she’ll be fine,” Mason said. He kneeled down, meeting her gaze. “Kennedy, are you able to stand?”

  She wiggled her legs, feeling no pain there. “I think so.”

  When Mason went to help her up, she screamed. Little black dots danced before her eyes as a torrent of pain shot through her wrist.

  “Fang kicked her there,” Phoenix said, looking pale.

  “Oh, kiddo, I’m so sorry.”

  Kennedy breathed in and out, taking the pain one breath at a time. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  All in one swift motion, Phoenix swooped her up into his arms, taking care not to touch her wrist or face. Telling him to put her down was on the tip of her tongue, but…dammit, it hurt too much to talk. So she let him carry her.

  “We’ll get you into a Medi-Bed,” Professor Mason said from behind. “You’ll be good as new in no time.”

  She groaned when she realized they were headed in the direction of Dr. Sigly’s office. That woman was the furthest thing from a healer she had ever known, and considering their history together, she hoped to never see the good doctor again. Honestly. Were they trying to finish her off?

  Once they were inside, Phoenix slowly set her on her feet, careful not to hurt her in the process.

  “Go back to training, Nix,” Professor Mason told him. “Dr. Sigly will take care of her from here.”

  “That doesn’t sound promising.”

  It was obvious the professor wasn’t used to disobedience, especially from Phoenix. “She’ll be fine,” he said, staring him down. “You’ll only be in the way.”

  A muscle in Phoenix’s jaw twitched, and they stared at each other for a while, each of them waiting for the other to break. “Fine, I’ll leave,” he said, with an implied but coming. “But I’m waiting in the hall.”

  Phoe
nix eyed Kennedy one last time. “If you need me for anything, anything at all, you only have to shout. Okay?”

  His protectiveness both confused and comforted her. It could’ve had something to do with the last time she dealt with Dr. Sigly. Phoenix had come to her rescue, after all, and maybe that was why she suddenly felt like latching onto his arm, refusing to let him leave her sight. Or maybe Fang had kicked her too hard, and some of the damage went to her brain. Either way, she wanted him to stay. She wanted him close.

  “Okay?” he asked again.

  She nodded, looking away before he saw her hesitation.

  This has nothing to do with my feelings for him, which have died completely, she assured herself. This is purely my survival instinct kicking in. That’s ALL it is.

  Or at least she hoped so.

  Briskly clicking high heels signaled Dr. Sigly’s arrival. She bustled into the room, pulling a lab coat over a cinched black dress. “You paged, Professor?” She strapped on latex gloves, barely sparing him a glance.

  “Yes, Miss Mitchell has gotten into a bit of a scrape. She—”

  “Good God, will you look at her!” Dr. Sigly gasped at the sight of Kennedy. She rushed to the supply cabinet, rifling through its contents.

  Professor Mason stiffened. Apparently the doctor set him on edge as well. “As I was saying,” he continued. “She has a split lip, numerous abrasions, possibly a cracked jaw—”

  “I will take stock of her injuries for myself, thank you.” The doctor sidestepped the professor to get to Kennedy, carrying an armful of gauze and solutions.

  Professor Mason went red in the face. He turned away from them, mumbling what sounded like damned aggravating woman.

  “What was that, Professor?” Dr. Sigly asked.

  “Nothing!” he snapped.

  Kennedy sucked in a breath, never having seen him look so angry. Dr. Sigly didn’t even blink. She simply went about her business, ignoring the professor as if he wasn’t in the room.

  She dabbed a cloth at Kennedy’s bloody chin. Cold gray eyes beneath angular brows scanned her face, assessing the damage. Kennedy stood a little straighter, trying not to allow Dr. Sigly’s towering height and severe features intimidate her.