Eko (NINE Series, #1)

by Loren Walker

  * * *

  Phaira watched the pink petals break from the dying trees and float down. The tiny memorial park had been long neglected, vines and bushes grown over, creating little pockets of privacy, even in the center of Daro. Her long white trench coat belted tightly, the heavy collar was turned up against the damp, cold air, with Theron’s longblade strapped across her back on the diagonal.

  A rustle of movement behind her. The sound of his steps was to the left, only a few feet away.

  She debated whether to punch him in the face.

  Her index fingers tapped the bench twice in thought. No. He needed to be able to speak.

  But she had to make him drop all pretenses, just to get a sense of the truth.

  One method came to mind.

  As she turned, Phaira caught a glimpse of Theron’s surprised eyes before she grabbed the lapels of his grey wool overcoat, yanked him down to her level, and kissed him.

  At first, his lips were stiff with shock. Then they softened, and he softened. His arms slid around her back and, suddenly, her feet lifted off the ground. Phaira heard an involuntary squeak come from her throat. Then the sensory rush overwhelmed her: his enveloping warmth; how good he smelled; how forcefully he kissed her back.

  She made a choice. Five long, woozy seconds of indulgence.

  Now focus. Focus! This isn’t about you.

  Phaira broke away with effort, ducking her head. She waited, eyes closed, until she felt her boots touch the grass again. Under her scarf, the base of her throat was on fire. She resisted the urge to touch it.

  “Is that what you’ve wanted?” Phaira began, her voice low and honeyed. “Is that why you gave me sanctuary, and transportation...”

  Then she opened her eyes. “...and invented that HALO with my brother?”

  She heard him catch his breath. When his arms loosened, Phaira stepped back, her tone sharpening. “What are you doing with me and my family? What’s your endgame? A straight answer is all I want.”

  His silence made Phaira’s chest grew tight. Theron didn’t moved, his expression neutral save for the faint flush in his face. Finally, he slid his hands in his pockets of his overcoat, and shrugged.

  “Fine,” he said, his jawline a right angle of tension. “I told you I would bankroll your start-up costs. But I recognized that you come as a package deal. So I assessed my potential investment from all angles. And I assisted as necessary.”

  “Did you spend some time assessing Cohen, too?” Phaira shot back.

  Theron didn’t say anything. A wave of disappointment crashed over her. “Where is he?” she demanded.

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Theron started, lifting his hands.

  “You’re telling me you don’t know where he is?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying, I just - ” He stuttered a little. “I mean, I didn’t think they would just take him like that. He’s so young - ”

  Phaira’s heart leapt. “Did you set him up?”

  “What? No!” Theron exclaimed. “I tried to warn him off, but I couldn’t intervene. Not directly.”

  Warn him off. Couldn’t intervene. So he was involved in all of this, whatever this was. Regardless, she had to ask. “I need your help.”

  “I’ve done enough, Phaira.” His voice carried an undertone of fear. “I can’t risk any more exposure.”

  “You coward.”

  The word visibly startled Theron.

  “You know my brother is missing,” Phaira went on. “You know where, you know why, and you won’t help me get him back?”

  “Like I said,” Theron countered, his eyes blazing gold. “I can’t get involved. Cohen should have never been recruited. But when I saw the danger, I did what I could to try and stop it.”

  She hardly heard his protests. Oh, this is bad, she lamented. This is even worse than I thought. Cohen. He could be anywhere. To her horror, tears pricked at her eyes. She turned away from Theron, willing them to reabsorb.

  Long seconds passed. Darkness began to creep along the landscape, the pale pink of the blossoms turning a fiery orange.

  “Phaira, I was four years old when the NINE attacked.” His flat voice startled her. “I woke up in the hospital a month later. My mother, aunt and uncle were dead. My cousins and I were sent to live with our grandfather. I just wanted to be a normal kid, to forget that it ever happened. But my cousins could never let it go. And now they have the money and power to take revenge, to use whatever or whomever they want to make it happen.”

  Phaira turned her head, just to see his body language. His left hand clenched and unclenched, the veins pressing through the skin. It seemed like the truth. Question after question rippled through her mind. She might as well start with the most dangerous one.

  “You’re one of the Savas.”

  In her peripheral vision, she saw him nod.

  Theron Sava. Phaira rolled the name around in her head, hardly able to believe it. “Your cousins are Savas too?”

  “Keller. Xanto.” Theron listed. Then after a short pause: “And Kadise. Or ‘Saka,’ as she went by online.”

  Her blood froze. Phaira looked over her shoulder, left and right, searching for any signs of surveillance. She had killed a Sava. This couldn’t be happening…

  “No one knows, Phaira,” Theron was saying, in the midst of her panic. “You’re not marked. She was a mess and it wasn’t much of a loss, believe me.”

  How did even he know she was involved in Saka’s death?

  “My cousins are set on hunting down any of the NINE who might still be alive,” Theron continued. “They’ve been building a team for months. Hired muscle. Hackers to shield their actions.”

  He paused. “And that woman Huma to protect them. I suspect that girl Sydel is still with her, too.”

  Horrified, Phaira backed away, but Theron caught her arm. “It’s not what you think,” he told her. “I didn’t know she assaulted you, or took your friend away - ”

  Phaira’s thoughts were spinning so violently, she couldn’t even wrench her arm free. How had this happened? How had she gotten caught in this?

  “I know. The whole situation is out of control,” he confirmed under his breath. “But Keller is the oldest, the successor to my grandfather, so no one questions him. Xanto goes along to keep him under control. But Keller has the family’s backing, the funds, and the connections. I can’t stop them, even if I wanted to. But I think you can. And I’ve been trying to ensure that you have every resource to do so.”

  “Why haven’t you joined them?” she choked out.

  “I’m not like them,” Theron emphasized each word. “I just want to be left alone. To make my own life.”

  “Well, I can’t…”

  Then the words died on her lips. Of course she was going to try to rescue them all. What else would she do? Even if she died in the process, it didn’t matter.

  Suddenly, his fingers slid off her arm. “I know where they are,” Theron said quietly. “I can forward the coordinates. I don’t know how much time there is. But I’m sorry. About your brother. And your friends.”

  He sounded genuine enough. But Phaira didn’t want to look at him anymore.

  So she unstrapped the longblade from her back and pushed it into his chest. When Theron’s hand closed around the casing, she ran.

  As Phaira wove through the overgrown trees, turning up her collar against the wind, she fought a sudden, desperate yearning to go back. Foolish, irrational, undeserving: but undeniably there. Even in the wake of everything revealed.

  Phaira brushed a pink petal off her shoulder and shook her head to loosen any remaining ones. She had room in her brain for only one complex question: how to take on a crime syndicate, save her brother and friends, and keep everyone alive.

  IV.

  "There’s nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Renzo repeated.

  Anandi gestured at the topographic map, the small patch highlighted in blue. “It’s
the Kings Canyon in the West. Desert, mountains; preserved historical space, so little development. There’s no access to satellites in that area, so I can’t see if there’s any activity within.” She glanced over to Phaira. “You’re certain that there’s an underground base there? Doesn’t seem likely.”

  Phaira didn’t say anything. Could she really trust anything that Theron told her?

  “So the only option is to go there, then,” Renzo said grimly. “And see for ourselves.”

  “Is that wise?” Anandi protested.

  “It’s the only clue we have. We have to do something.”

  “And if you find the place? And the Savas?” Anandi pressed on. “What then?”

  Renzo went to speak again, but Phaira interrupted. “I’m going to volunteer my services.”

  “What? No, you’re not going to do that!” Renzo exclaimed, his hands gripping the head of the pilot’s seat.

  “Ren, how else will we get inside?” Phaira argued. “The Savas want warm bodies, willing to pull a trigger on command. I have the skill set, they’ll see it right away. They’ll take me in.”

  “You don’t know that,” Renzo pointed out. “You don’t know what they’d do. They might kill you as soon as you’re out of public view. Or ship you off for parts unknown. We don’t even know who these Savas are looking to hunt down. There’s nothing out there on that attack you mentioned, from twenty years ago or today.”

  Phaira glanced to her left. “Emir? Help me out here.”

  From the corner, Anandi’s father pulled on his white beard. “It’s risky,” he conceded. “But I agree with Phaira; something must be done, and quickly.”

  He pushed himself up to standing. “Though she shouldn’t be the one to do this. I will volunteer. Phaira can be my shadow.”

  “Are you crazy? Why would they trust you over her?” Renzo exclaimed. “Didn’t one of them kidnap you?”

  “There’s history between the Savas and Ajyos,” Emir said. Phaira caught his quick glance at Anandi: a warning for her to remain silent. “Enough to give them pause, if I remind them of it.”

  Anandi’s forehead creased with worry. “Papa, no. What if they lock you away? Your heart - ”

  “Anandi,” Emir interrupted gently. “As Phaira said: the Savas need hands, and not just to kill. They need to conceal what they’re planning to do. Premeditated murder is still a crime. If I show up and I know about their scheme, if they believe their security is comprised, they’ll think twice, won’t they? Maybe even hire me to correct the issue. And then I can get Phaira inside. I sense she’s capable of a resolution. And it’s the least I can do to repay a debt.”

  “There’s no debt,” Phaira said uneasily. “It’s not right to involve you, especially if you’re ill.”

  “See, Papa,” Anandi broke in. “It’s not necessary.”

  The older man walked to Anandi and placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “I choose to get involved,” he told her. “There’s a larger threat here, even if you can’t see it yet.”

  Her eyes full of tears, Anandi buried her face into Emir’s arm. Then the two slipped out of the cockpit and into the Arazura’s gleaming corridor. Even as their voices faded away, Renzo continued to look after them, his face unreadable.

  Finally, Renzo wandered over to the pilot’s seat, sitting down with a thump. Phaira placed her forearms on the chair headrest. For a long time, they were both silent.

  “I’ll go too,” Renzo finally announced.

  “Someone has to stay outside, Ren. If Emir can get me in, I’ll do whatever I can to protect Co. And Sydel, if she’s there too. Maybe there’s a way to sneak them out of there and you can come for us.”

  “I can’t let you do this. There’s no way this will work. You’ll be killed.”

  Probably, she thought. But I’d rather it be me than Cohen.

  “Getting in doesn’t worry me as much as getting out,” Phaira said instead. “I can guess at the basic security measures in place: cameras, posted guards with orders to shoot to kill, but there’s no way to know until I see it.”

  She paused, thinking. “But, Ren, if I can find them, if I can find a way out, you have to come as fast as you can. I don’t know when that would be, it’s so isolated out there; it could be just minutes of an opening.”

  “I’ll be there when you need me,” Renzo cut her off. “This ship is faster than anything in public operation.”

  He twisted to the right, so he could look Phaira in the eyes.

  “No matter what,” he repeated. “I’ll be there.”