by Nina Pierce
“We’ll find her, Bren.” Xylice’s fingers clicked the keys in rapid succession. One side of the monitor ran dizzyingly fast through computer footage, the other showed Jahara’s confused face imploring him to find her.
Brenimyn tore his gaze from Jahara and walked to the window, staring at the first bright colors of a pyrotechnic display lighting the dome of the Garden. Helplessness wrapped its cold arms around his chest, pressing the air from his lungs. “I should’ve told her, Xylice. But I was afraid she’d talk me out of it.” Swallowing hard, he worked to control the emotions threatening to spill out of him. “Who was I to keep things from her?” He didn’t turn around, but the persistent clicking of the computer keys stopped abruptly.
“She knew.”
“She was too trusting.”
Xylice came to stand with him at the window, her eyes fixed on the explosions sprinkling lights down on the Garden proper. It was amazing how much he could see from Xylice’s plush office on the sixth floor of the computer complex.
“Don’t kid yourself. She went into this with her eyes and heart completely open.” Xylice’s voice was soft. “I saw her conviction the day I rigged the cameras at your apartment. But that was nothing compared to the determined strength I saw in her today when I left the government building. All around her pandemonium reigned, but Jahara held her head high and walked with pride even though her mate had just been sentenced to a certain death outside these walls.” Xylice turned her head up to him. “Don’t beat yourself up, Bren. She knew what the vision asked of her and she accepted it.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
She wondered if anyone even knew she was missing. Jahara hadn’t told Attika where she was headed. Nazaret had left long before she’d run down the sidewalk. And Brenimyn might be in custody or he could be free—either way he wouldn’t know where to search for her. No one had seen the trio leave Bresilee’s lab with Jahara at gunpoint. The only person she could depend on to save her life was her. Her mind raced through several possible escape scenarios, but all of them left her with a bullet hole in her body.
What she needed to do was distract Bresilee and trust the bond she shared with Mikalyn would be enough to disarm the crazy woman pointing a gun at her head. But the automaton blindly following the director’s orders didn’t look like the healer who’d been elbow-deep in Lukiam’s blood or the same woman who’d begged Jahara to save her lover. Steering the vehicle through some underground tunnel system between Bresilee’s mansion and the hospital, Mikalyn stared mutely into the darkness. Illuminated only by the feeble headlights of the electric vehicle, her face held the slack features of someone who’d been drugged.
“Is this how you got me from the well-check to the mansion?” Jahara tried to engage Mikalyn in conversation. “I only remember the piercing noise but nothing until I woke in the lab.” Still, there was no reaction from the healer. “I was just—”
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Bresilee’s voice startled Jahara, but Mikalyn didn’t even flinch. “I’m so tired of your incessant whining.” Bresilee rubbed the cold cylinder of the gun against Jahara’s cheek. “And despite your arrogant attitude, look who controls the last minutes of your pathetic life. Me!”
Mikalyn pulled the vehicle up to a non-descript door and parked.
“Ah, here we are. I’m sure you’re anxious to join your breeder. And I’m all too happy to send you into the next realm to spend eternity with him.” Bresilee’s hacking laugh sounded like her psyche was ripping apart at the seams.
* * * *
“We’ve got something.” Xylice waddled back to the beeping computer. They stared down at the screen. “Well, that can’t be right.”
“Xylice, I can’t make sense of that mess on the screen, what is it?”
“The computer should’ve kept going.”
Though it had taken less than thirty minutes for the computer to search the film archives, impatience was making him jittery and ill-tempered. With every tick of the clock, Brenimyn’s hope of finding Jahara alive was slipping. No one knew how events would unfold. Visions were never that clear.
“Xylice, what am I looking at?” He saw numbers flashing on the screen and Jahara’s face, but none of it made sense to him.
“Patience, Bren, I need to make sure I used the correct parameters.” Settling her bulk in the chair, Xylice worked her magic on the keys. “Huh.” She leaned back.
“Xylice. What?” he screamed at his sister.
“Her last known location was around 1830, but that was nearly five hours ago. The cameras should’ve picked up something more.” Focused on the program, Xylice leaned forward and punched more data into the computer.
Covering her hands, Brenimyn looked down at his sister. “Whatever you have. Just tell me where. I don’t care if it’s accurate, I can’t stand around doing nothing.”
“The well-check, but—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. Running from the computer room, he raced into the night, praying the Creator of the earth would protect them all.
* * * *
“This is the place you sought.” Bresilee waved the gun around the little room.
Mikalyn stood with her back to the red door, her arms crossed over her chest and her face a vacant wash of emotion. Jahara leaned casually against the shelves running along the wall opposite Mikalyn. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure Bresilee could hear it from where she stood next to the operating table in the center of the room.
“This room was built off the well-check as a triage for infected breeders. Here they were to be healed or quarantined. That’s why the security elevator goes directly to the tunnel. Diseased breeders could be transported to the isolation complex without coming in contact with the general population. But it was never used.” Bresilee ran a finger lovingly over the bindings on the table at her side. “Not that way anyway.”
Jahara’s gaze skittered about the room, looking for an escape route. Without windows, the only access was through the red door or the elevator they’d just come up. Either one required her to disable one or both of the women.
“—no one had used it for years. So I took over the space when I got here. I’ve been using it for my own secret purposes.” Bresilee’s mouth twisted in a gruesome smile. “I filled the cabinets with the instruments of the ancients. Perfect for experimenting on unsuspecting breeders.” She waved the gun nonchalantly over Jahara’s head.
The wooden cabinets at her back, above and below the shelf were faced with glass. Filled with chemistry equipment and operating utensils, some she recognized, others she didn’t, the shelves looked like they held tools of torture—not healing.
“It’s really how I learned to become a healer. I’d send perfectly good male specimens through that door and they’d become trapped until I could get to them. Stupid men were all so docile. So trusting. They’d lie on the bed, convinced I’d save them from some horrible disease.” She rubbed her palm over the stretcher like a lover. “They even let me bind them when I told them it was for their protection from the strong healing powers I would use. Instead of fixing their ills, I cut them open while they were still alive. I studied their bodies. I’m sure it was quite an unpleasant experience for them, but it was fascinating to see the human body at work.”
With Bresilee lost in the memories of her past and Mikalyn slumped in a posture of defeat against the wall, it was easy for Jahara to fake her interest in the instruments, even as she moved closer to Bresilee.
“When I was promoted to run the hospital, I created the alarm that both disables the occupants of the room and alerts me directly.” She looked up at the large speaker hanging from the ceiling.
Jahara moved quickly, lunging at Bresilee, intent on knocking the weapon out of her hand.
But the table moved of its own accord, slamming into Jahara and knocking her to the floor.
“You stupid fool!” Bresilee’s maniacal laugh filled the small room. “Oh, didn’t I mention? I’m also telekinetic. I’ve be
en blessed with two gifts. All the more reason my genetic material should go on.” The woman pushed the gurney out of the way with her mind and knelt next to her, pressing the gun painfully between Jahara’s eyes. “I should shoot you where you lay and be done with this. Even Mikalyn can’t heal a bullet through the heart or the skull. Trust me on this—she’s tried.” She leaned in close, her fetid breath of anger washing over Jahara’s face. “But that death would be much too easy on you honorable healer. And it’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed a good dissection. I want you to know your life is being taken from you in small, painful increments.”
Bresilee stepped back, moving the operating table between them, motioning for Jahara to stand. “When you’re taking your final breaths … you’ll get to enjoy this final insult to your pathetic life…” The director stepped back, the control panel behind her engaging a set of gears.
The tiles in the corner beside Jahara tilted down into the floor. She heard the whoosh of an explosion and waves of heat rolled up from below.
“An incinerator.” Bresilee beamed with pride. “Such an amazing invention. I had it installed all those years ago by men too stupid to know I’d use the fire against them. No one knows it’s here.” In the bright lights, the woman’s eyes glowed with the evil inside her.
“They installed these in the mines to burn the debris. It’s a lovely way to dispose of unnecessary garbage. I’ve been using it more frequently these last few months as I get rid of the evidence of my failed experiments.”
Jahara swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
Bresilee nodded at the hole in the floor. “Jacinta’s child slid quietly into the next realm through that portal.”
Mikalyn’s head shot up at the same moment the red door flung open and knocked her down.
The speaker went off, the deafening noise bouncing off the walls. “Wait for the others … We will heal …”
Startled at the sudden intrusion, Bresilee aimed her weapon at the door and pulled the trigger. Taking full advantage of the confusion. Jahara pushed through the bone-crushing noise, running full speed into the operating table. With the battle cry of a warrior screaming from her lungs, she rammed the table into Bresilee, pinning the woman against the wall and knocking the gun from her hand.
Mikalyn scrambled to her feet, grabbing the weapon and shooting out the speaker. The disembodied voice went silent even as huge shards of glass and metal rained down on them.
Jahara pushed the operating table aside, focused all her anger and swung her fist at Bresilee’s face. Her hands were meant to heal. Tonight, they were capable of murder.
Bresilee fell to the floor. Her hands shot up, raking her long nails down Jahara’s cheeks. The searing pain fueled her fight. Jahara raised her fist once again and slammed it into Bresilee’s nose. The bone-crushing blow splattered blood over both of them. Bresilee’s arms and legs flung wildly into the space between them, pummeling Jahara.
“That’s enough.” The gun discharged, the bullet chipping the yellowed tile by Bresilee’s cheek.
They both froze.
“Stand up, both of you.” Mikalyn held the gun pointed down at them.
Jahara looked over her shoulder and screamed. It was Brenimyn who’d pushed through the door. His body lay in a heap at Mikalyn’s feet, his shallow breath gurgling unnaturally out of the hole in his chest.
“Brenimyn.” Jahara started toward the man whose life’s blood was spreading into a puddle beneath his body.
“Stay where you are, healer. He’s not worth saving.” Rising on shaky legs, Bresilee brushed at her clothing and straightened her hair. “I’m better with a pistol than I thought.” Stretching out her hand, she took a step toward Mikalyn. “Give me the gun.”
“No.” Mikalyn’s stony features barely moved as she spat out the word.
“Then you do it. Shoot Jahara and we’ll dump both bodies. Even as we speak, the breeder dies.” Bresilee waved callously toward Brenimyn. “We can say Jahara and Brenimyn found the incinerator and accidentally fell. It’ll be so easy.”
“That’s how it is for you? Life. Death. You control both at your whim?” Mikalyn stepped over Brenimyn’s motionless body. “Jacinta and I loved that baby, even though we knew it wasn’t our flesh and blood.” Tears welled in the healer’s eyes. “And yet you treated the infant like a piece of garbage to be thrown out? How dare you? And after all I’ve done for you? You were willing to let the woman I love die in order to prove to the world you had the power of the Creator? You speak of a new race of females, but they are molded in your likeness. I don’t think that’s a world I can live in.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Mikalyn. This is what we’ve been planning for.” Bresillee shook her finger at Jahara, her words coming out on an evil laugh. “Her. She’s the one who must die. If you can’t do it, I’ll be happy to—”
A sharp chunk of the speaker flew through the air toward Jahara. With surprising speed, Mikalyn stepped in its path and it buried deep into her gut.
“Mikalyn! No! I’m sorry!” Bresilee cried.
A small gasp of surprise escaped the healer’s lips before she fell forward to the floor. The gun slipped from her hands into the black heat of the incinerator. Two more were dead at Bresilee’s hands, both willingly sacrificing themselves to stop a mad woman.
With nothing more to lose, Jahara bent low, crashing into Bresilee’s legs. The momentum carried her to the floor, precariously close to the yawning opening.
Bresilee rolled them until she lay sprawled over Jahara’s chest. “You bitch. You’ve taken everything from me!” With incredible strength, Bresilee pushed Jahara’s head over the edge of the fissure. Her nose filled with smell of her own hair melting. Heat prickled her skin and seared the flesh. “You will die today, Jahara, and join your lover in the next world.” Bresilee spoke through clenched teeth, the effort of the struggle making her pant.
“That’s not how it’s meant to be.” With one last Herculean effort, Jahara bucked her hips and kicked a leg high in the air, flipping Bresilee over her head. Suspended in midair, Bresilee’s hands flailed at empty space.
“No!” Jahara reached for her, but the woman slid into the bowels of her own Hades with barely a sound.
The gaping hole in the floor closed automatically, no doubt triggered by Bresilee’s weight on the ramp. Ignoring the burns to her face and hands, Jahara scrambled to the lifeless forms by the door.
With instincts honed from years of practice, she assessed their wounds. They were both close to death. Mikalyn bled profusely from her belly, Brenimyn from his chest. From the amount of blood spreading across the floor, the bullet had very likely damaged the man’s heart—and shattered hers.
“Bresilee dead?” Mikalyn’s eyes fluttered open.
“Yes.” Jahara moved to the healer, her hands warming with the light of healing.
“Good. It’s what she deserved.” Mikalyn gasped. “I should’ve stopped her sooner … I’m sorry I didn’t—”
She cried out in pain as Jahara rotated Mikalyn’s torso until she lay flat on her back. “Shh, don’t talk.”
“No …not me. Don’t deserve … save Brenim …”
The woman’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and her jaw went slack as Jahara pulled the twisted metal from her belly and worked to save the healer’s life.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Three months later
Jahara sat sidesaddle on the horse, the flowing skirt of the white dress making it impossible for her to ride any other way. She looked down over the crowd gathered in the field, stunned by the number of people who’d chosen to be part of this celebration.
The river beside her cascaded with incredible power to the rocks below, its mist sprinkling rainbow shimmers of light over the lake. Looking up, she shielded her eyes against the natural sun peeking through the disassembled panels of the Garden roof.
Her Dame had ordered the reorganization of the Governmental Body and the procreation law of the an
cients rescinded. The Garden as its founders intended, no longer existed. It had been reorganized into a village and christened “Serenity”. But it would be years before nothing remained except the legacy of the breeding facility.
“You ready?”
She smiled at Merenith mounted on the horse next to hers and nodded.
“It looks like your Dame has everyone assembled.” Merenith lifted her chin toward the outcropping of rock where Kylie stood regally next to the leader of the Eastern Territory. As the new head of the Governmental Body of Serenity, Kylie would lead the celebration in conjunction with her Dame. The rest of the officials of both governments were gathered on the grass, their robes of distinction decorating the field with a mosaic of color.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
Adjusting the halo of flowers adorning her head, Jahara brushed the short strands of hair out of her face. Though it had grown out since the accident, she thought probably she’d keep the sassy style framing her face. Her hand fluttered over her exposed breasts, settling on her still-flat belly. The baby stirred under her touch.
“I’m sure, Mer. There’s nothing more I could wish for.” Emotion clogged Jahara’s throat, filling her eyes with tears. She laughed. “I told myself I wouldn’t cry today.”
“It’s a new beginning for all of us.” Reaching over, Merenith squeezed her thigh reassuringly. “You look beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you.”
The trumpets sounded. Mikalyn’s sweet voice carried melodic strains over the amplifier, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. Jahara had chosen this song, finding the lilting words of love in one of Bresilee’s book of ancients.
Everything that would happen today would be a unique blend of the old and the new. It had been a stressful task figuring out what which traditions to keep and which ones to begin.
Jahara’s horse rocked down the slope and the throng of hundreds parted as she and Merenith wound their way toward the swathe of grass cut to make a center aisle. The ancients had performed this ceremony in sacred buildings called churches. For Jahara there was no ground more hallowed than the spot where’d she’d first come to believe in love and the vision Brenimyn promised those who followed him.
