Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two

by E. M. Whittaker

  A resounding thud stopped Travis’s advance. When he glimpsed behind him, his left hand made the sign of a cross while he mouthed a prayer. Two feet away, a golden owl had dropped from the sky, sprawled out with broken wings where it landed.

  Lyssa, damn my superstitions. Someone will die, and the owl proves it. Time to run before something else happens, sweetheart

  Taking his own advice, Travis shuddered and issued another prayer before gliding forward again, eager to escape the curse of Kilgore Falls.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, fluorescent light shined in the Poisoner’s face as she slept at her worktable, her head resting on top of her forearms, clad in a wrinkled, stained lab coat.

  She moved her head away and sighed in relief when darkness came. Relief changed to pain the moment bright light invaded her vision again. As the light continued, Aviere hissed and scraped her claws against the table. After cracking her back and shoulders, she straightened her posture and prepared to strike her invisible target.

  “I swear, Neuro… if you value life, you’ll—”

  “The toxicology results are complete,” an older man’s voice announced as he flashed the light over Aviere’s face. “It ended a half hour ago, but you were twitching your hands and making weird hissing noises while dreaming.”

  Dry eyes opened before she lifted her head and slapped away the flashlight, hissing when her new lab partner waved the metallic red device outside of her reach. After her eyesight sharpened, Aviere sneered at the raven-haired scientist and his exotic golden eyes.

  “Even in your sleep, you dream of destroying that wretched human, Aviere. How adorable.”

  “Just once, I’d like to visit normal people,” Aviere said, rolling her eyes as the man plucked a dark feather from his hair. “Not people who molt, crave beer, or want to kill me.”

  “I must say… Myra’s popularity revolved around her looks, not pissing people off.”

  The Poisoner held cold, bare fingers against her forehead as she rested weary eyes on her lab colleague, her other hand trailing around her workstation for her spare bottle of water. “Cray, I’m not my mother. I thought I explained this when I first moved into your laboratory.”

  “Oh, I’m aware. You’re not much of a looker, and you’re an amateur, at best.”

  “An amateur?” She pushed her body against the chair and sat straight, mouth parted at Cray’s comment. “I went to school and graduated third in my class.”

  “Real world experience trumps school, Aviere Mye. Holding a degree doesn’t count as experience.”

  “You know, the last time somebody suggested ‘real life experience’, I ended up at a strip club, watching Gunther and Joseph fighting Jemina’s former pimp.”

  She folded her icy hands together when Cray gulped. “What?”

  “Jemina demanded I learn ‘street smarts’. When she suggested following her on a job, I got excited and helped her, until I found myself inside a strip club, wearing chiffon clothing and avoiding sleezeballs interested in sexual services. Of course, they knocked me out before fighting her former pimp, but I sucker-punched the guy and got overconfident beforehand. That’s the only instance Joe knocked me unconscious.”

  “And you wonder why Myra always worried about you,” the scientist remarked while swinging his hand by his side. “I swear, you’ll never learn. Hoodlums aren’t friends.”

  “I understood, but we’re not the same, Cray. I’m not a delicate flower and I refuse to sit around, waiting to die.”

  “Then stop running on two vials of serum. You’re supposed to keep a week’s worth on you.”

  Her eyes darted to her handbag at his cynical tone before glancing around the laboratory. A moment later, she noticed the familiar black lockbox sitting on top of his desk.

  “You dropped your lockbox on the table, Aviere. I grabbed it before your nosy partner—”

  “They’re aware, Cray. It’s fine.” She rubbed her dry, bleary eyes as she closed them and pressed lithe fingers against her tense neck muscles. “I’d have more if the Zodiac Cartel didn’t destroy my workshop. They stole everything inside my safe.”

  “Right. You should have your own laboratory soon. I can’t share my space with someone else.”

  As she massaged underneath the base of her skull, Aviere sniffed, sneezing when chocolate-flavored coffee permeated the air. She tried identifying the brand name, but Cray’s statement nagged at the back of her mind. Between the incessant criticism and the scientist’s swift movements, Aviere’s patience thinned every time Cray paused by her side.

  Thank God Travis stayed. Otherwise, I’d throttle Cray in his sleep. I’ll take dealing with Neuro at this point. At least he understands when I need time alone.

  “I don’t like your expression, Aviere.”

  She blinked before stopping her brooding thoughts. “Sorry. You spoke of toxicology results. Where are they?”

  “On your screen. Let’s see if you can interpret the results without me pointing out your mistakes again.”

  That pompous raven! I’m tired of him comparing me to a dead woman. I get that enough from Armandi and Sanderson. I’m not dealing with this from Cray, too.

  “Cray, I’ll explain this one more time. Stop comparing me to Ma. I’m a mature woman, following her horrible bosses’ orders.”

  “You’re a child pretending she can handle a high-profile case. It takes years of experience… something you lack. You don’t have suitable qualifications to be on field duty, let alone inside my laboratory.”

  “You know, if I need someone to bust my balls and argue with me, I’ll go visit Peters.” Thinking of the specialist soured the Poisoner’s mood. “He’s great at knocking people down a peg or two. Meanwhile, I’m more concerned about getting these results to Sanderson and my father. They each assigned me to the case, but my father asked before Sanderson gave this case to our unit.”

  “Roland?”

  Aviere’s ears perked when Cray’s voice deepened, then turned high-pitched at the last syllable. “Yes. He’s still alive, you know.”

  “That’s why a human being infected the compound.”

  “I don’t care about Sanderson and Roland’s private feud,” Aviere said, twirling a strand of hair near her ear. “They’ll always fight over Ma, just like you. Comparing me to your former partner won’t solve anything. However, if Da and Sanderson are confident in me, you shouldn’t question them.”

  “It’s not your resolve I’m questioning, hellcat.”

  “Oh?” She whirled in her seat and faced the computer, skimming through the results on the bulky computer screen. “Then why—”

  “Myra made the wrong decision. You should have been sacrificed, not her.”

  Aviere’s breath caught in her throat at Cray’s statement. “What?”

  “I didn’t stutter. Myra should be here, not you. Her resolve shined while yours is questionable.”

  Three simple lines, delivered with a nonchalant attitude, stopped the woman from interpreting the report on her computer screen. Fingers hovered over the wireless keyboard as she processed Cray’s words. After the sentence echoed in her head, Aviere shook, then lowered her head as she folded her hands together.

  Every time I come across one of Ma’s suitors, I receive mixed reactions. Armandi is the only one who respected Ma. Sanderson shuns her. Now, Cray is pissed at me. What did I get myself into, Gunther?

  “Myra lost her mind, trusting you with a valuable mission like the Metamorphosis Project. It should have been canned, not reinstated by Sanderson.”

  At least Cray mentioned something about Ma’s death. Now I know the media coverage was bullshit.

  “Well, you’ve confirmed my suspicions about what destroyed her, Cray. Thank you.”

  “It doesn’t mean you’ll learn how she died. I doubt you could handle the truth, even if I produced the footage.”

  As Aviere inhaled, coffee wafted through her nostrils. Before she spoke, someone poured the liquid
into a cup, breaking the deafening silence. A spoon clinked as they stirred their drink before tapping the metal tumbler three times.

  Great, Travis. Wonderful timing, as usual.

  “Who needs television when they can hang around you, Mye?” Travis asked, sipping his drink. “Soap operas and talk shows can’t touch your never-ending family drama.”

  And like that, Cray, you ruined any chance of privacy today.

  Hands still folded underneath her chin, Aviere released a quivery breath until dizziness struck her. The wireless keyboard tumbled to the ground as the woman shoved it aside and slumped her upper body over the table.

  I’m mature enough to handle this. Cray confirmed my suspicions. I won’t crumble because another guy Ma worked with can’t handle her decisions about my care.

  “God’s sake, Mye. At least make my first cup of coffee interesting, since you’re stationary instead of trying to blow yourself up or something.”

  “Travis, you’re not helping,” Aviere breathed. “Go wait somewhere else. I can handle my own battles.”

  “I could… but right now, you’re not on point.”

  She pressed her head into her hands while Travis sipped his coffee, mouthing to herself not to vomit all over the laboratory floor.

  “When darkness encompasses your aura, you make irrational decisions. In this instance, I wouldn’t fault you for attacking Alberin. What kind of man blames a little girl for her mother’s choices, or taunts her with statements like his?”

  “Sanderson.” Certainty laced her voice as she spoke. “You’ve seen how he acts toward me.”

  “Where’s the woman I met—the one who made Sanderson almost choke her upon their first meeting?”

  “Entertaining you more than television.”

  “Forget my skepticism, Mye. I’m always pissy before my first cup of coffee, and I don’t enjoy cable much. Days off are scarce in this organization.”

  Aviere managed a half-hearted chuckle, then covered her mouth when her stomach churned and her throat tightened.

  “I’m glad you found my outburst amusing, but sit still and collect yourself.”

  She raised her body before shaking off a cold chill. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Your aura’s flickering. It does every time you experience nausea or vertigo.”

  From behind her, Aviere heard Cray’s excited tone as he rolled a chair closer to her. Squeaking signaled the moment Cray sat down and shifted in the swivel chair.

  “Get away from me,” Aviere moaned. “God knows your nauseating stench—”

  “Sanderson’s right. You are pitiful. He’s ordering us to babysit an incompetent woman whose only skill is being baited or playing the damsel in distress. No wonder you’re always in trouble.”

  He’s goading me. I’m tired of being treated like a child.

  The Poisoner spun in her seat and folded her arms across her chest, shielding herself underneath her cold, practiced mask. Anxiety quieted into an eerie calm while her eyes narrowed. Her body straightened as she folded one leg over her knee and rested a hand on top of her thigh.

  “If I’m so helpless, why were you behind me, Cray? Are you afraid I’ll poison you?”

  She widened her eyes and her vision sharpened, defining each wrinkled line on the scientist’s face. Sweat hit her nostrils—the odor pungent, like chopped onions. Aviere rubbed her cold fingers as she waited for his answer, longing for her gloves while warming her hands.

  Dark feathers dropped to the floor around Cray’s feet as he wrapped his long hair in a ponytail.

  Oh, I see it now. Aviere’s lips curled in her familiar condescending sneer while he gathered several reports, holding them close to his body. You’re ill, not me. Fledgling disease settled in because of the abnormal conditions here.

  “Oh, how cute. You’re projecting your insecurities onto me.” She suppressed a chuckle with a cough as more feathers fell to the floor. “A human diet isn’t agreeing with you. Neither is the stress.”

  “Hmph.”

  “You’re not foolish enough to infect yourself with this blood, are you?”

  “If you won’t donate your body to science, someone has to, Aviere.”

  “There’s a limit before fledgling disease hits, and you’ve reached it again. The last time you experimented on yourself, Ma panicked for two weeks. You ruined our camping trip… not that it mattered, since I hate sleeping on rocks and dirt, anyway. But the last woman who used herself for research got the shaft.”

  “Damn it, Mye. There goes another cup of coffee, thanks to your snide attitude.”

  Just once, I’d like Travis to remain silent while dealing with my problems. Instead, he’s grumbling about ruining his stupid coffee again. Next time, I’ll lace it with sedatives. Then he’ll stay quiet for an entire conversation.

  Her cerulean eyes calculated the situation as they stayed on Cray while he gathered his fallen feathers. She pushed herself forward and plucked a feather from his hands, scrutinizing it as she twirled it between her fingers. Her head leaned backward while scrutinizing the quill, tsking under her breath.

  “Give me my quill, Aviere Mye.”

  She pocketed the damaged feather before wiping her hand on her jeans, laughing when Cray shoved his feathers inside his lab coat. Her cold, skinny fingers warmed as she splayed them against her chest and cracked her neck. “Oh, I get it now. Raymond thinks you’re still against Sanderson, doesn’t he?”

  “Get out. You’ll have your own lab by this afternoon.”

  “What did Sanderson promise you for sticking around the compound?”

  “I don’t have to answer you.”

  “Ma haunts you, like the rest of us. Shame you think necromancy or science will revive a deceased woman, Cray.”

  The tink of a metal spoon clanked against Travis’s tumbler as a light blade pressed against her throat. “Say one more word, Aviere, and I’ll overlook you being Myra’s child.”

  Well, Travis, your morning drama reached its daily quota. Don’t expect an encore any time soon.

  She rolled away from the handsome, molting scientist in his bloody lab coat before doubling back to the computer. “I’m tired of men threatening to kill me. I understand using guns, but a medical scalpel? Christ, you’re the pathetic one.”

  “Effective if you stab or slit the jugular vein. Now, leave. I’ll send—”

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” she said, clicking on the mouse as she grabbed the keyboard from the ground. “I’ll send it to my email.” Aviere rose from the chair and placed it underneath the wide space of the workstation before logging into the email mainframe. “It’s a shame you and Da never agreed on things. Both of you have the same outlook on life.”

  The scalpel came at her but tinked off the computer monitor. Her posture stiffened while exporting the report.

  “Do you have a death wish?”

  “Some think so.” Aviere’s voice retained a cheery tone as she typed a sentence inside the email and hit send. Afterward, she logged out of the computer. “These two do.”

  “They wouldn’t be wrong.”

  “Anyway, thanks for letting me borrow your lab. Good luck with everything, Cray. You’ll need it, since you sold your soul to Sanderson.”

  Cray’s silence pleased her while she grabbed her purse and duffel bag from underneath her chair. The denim straps dug into her hand and she hid a wince. When her eyes started to water, she wiped them clear and composed herself before facing Travis, who chortled into his coffee.

  “Let’s go. I’m sure we can find a reasonable workshop before nightfall.”

  “Your social skills suck, Mye.”

  “If I cared about socialization, nothing would get done,” she said, pulling the agent’s arm while departing the lab. “Besides, if I spent another day with Cray, he’d die of asphyxiation. His creepo factor’s higher than Sanderson or Peters. My kitty senses scream he’s covering up something.”

  “No shit. Half the research facility is a freaking morg
ue. I told you, he’s insane.”

  The thought of pallid, lifeless bodies invoked the memory of her near-death experience at the Port of Baltimore. She stared down the corridor, driving her body against the door as she fanned her face from the imaginary heat.

  Blood rushed through her ears before harsh thumping overtook her hearing.

  Words left her partner’s lips, but Aviere registered nothing Travis said. Wide-eyed, she clung to the duffel bag and barreled down the corridor, panting as she shoved someone out of her way.

  An open doorway beckoned to her, inviting her inside with its warm light.

  The last thing she consciously remembered was rushing inside and shutting the door, sliding against the wooden frame and hugging herself close, with Angelique’s airy laughter echoing inside her head.

  Distorted voices penetrated through the eerie calm as Aviere floated back to consciousness and rolled her eyes underneath her leaden eyelids. The myriad of voices between her mind and reality blended with the flashbacks of her disjointed nightmare.

  Her mouth salivated as chocolate lingered from someone’s breath beside her.

  Between the scents of whipped cream, chocolate, and caramel, Aviere’s stomach awakened with a vengeance, demanding the sweets she abhorred instead of the healthy meal of the night before. The chicken lo-mein noodles and spring rolls had served their purpose, though, and her stomach started grumbling again when she considered last night’s dinner.

  Yep, I’m hungry. Chocolate cravings mean two things… hunger, or—

  “You weren’t kidding, Keith. Something’s off if Mye hid inside my office without someone pulling her in.”

  Oh god. Out of every place I picked, I landed with Mr. Personality and his stupid flavored drinks.

  After the congested noises left Peters’s lips, Aviere cracked an eye open before her watery eyes gazed at the wooden flooring. Her brunette hair draped against her arms and shoulders as her melancholy eyes fixated on some reddish-colored crumbs beside her foot. Her dry lips tingled as she raised her head, peeling them off where they pressed into her wrist.

  Bright overhead light assaulted her shifting vision before she slammed her head against her hand. Anger drained her weary body as small moans accented each shaky breath she took.