The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

  Ashley was pacing back and forth through the grass, holding her wrist to her ear. She laughed into the receiver, but it wasn’t a cheerful laugh. More like a pissed off one. “You listen to me, mister. Unless she’s dying of cancer, this is my one night off, and we plan to spend it as a family.” She pounded furiously on the hang-up button, growling with rage. “The audacity!”

  “Was that the doctors again?”

  A winded breath escaped her mom’s lips. In less than two seconds flat, Ashley transformed her outrage into a sugary smile that would put anyone at ease. “No, sweetie. That was…my boss.”

  The lie was a complete fail. And Kennedy wasn’t about to let her get away with it.

  “I heard you say ‘my daughter.’”

  Ashley frowned, aggravated.

  Kennedy didn’t care if she was. She crossed her arms over her chest, standing her ground. Ashley had a knack for skirting around uncomfortable conversations, but it wasn’t going to happen this time. She wasn’t two years old anymore. Grown-up talk wasn’t beyond the realm of her comprehension. “So am I dying?”

  Ashley gasped. “What?” She glanced around the side of the house. Then, in a heated whisper, she said, “No, you’re not dying.”

  “Then why all the secrecy?”

  “For Pete’s sake, Kenn. They just want to talk about the results of your labs. That’s all. They said it’s standard procedure, nothing to be alarmed about.”

  Kennedy eyed her mom skeptically. Distrustfully. “You swear?”

  “I swear.” She shoved Kennedy in the direction of the cookout. “Go enjoy the barbeque. And make sure you thank Jake before you leave, okay?”

  Kennedy did as she was told, grudgingly, but she was still watchful of every move her mom made.

  Ashley kept an eye on her, too. Just about every time Kennedy turned around, she caught her mom looking her way. Maybe Ashley was wondering for herself if something really was wrong.

  Nine

  Phoenix watched the house from the street. The family was settled around the dinner table eating a meal. They talked to one another, smiling and laughing, enjoying one another’s company.

  He remembered what family supper was like. His memories were vague but still lingered in the back of his mind, stirring a slight nostalgia every time he thought back to those days.

  It felt like a lifetime ago.

  Back then, he and his brothers spent the days in and out of his father’s furniture store just outside of Oslo. His brothers never minded him hanging around the way older brothers should. He followed them to a field behind the store where they drank lager stolen from Pappa’s liquor cabinet and threw axes at spare wood for sport. Every now and then they’d let him try. He was five years old, could barely lift an axe. If Pappa knew, he would’ve beaten the shit out of them for letting him touch a blade that big.

  It was the most fun he’d ever had.

  Summers were spent in London at his grandmother’s row house in Kensington. She made them dress for dinner, and put about a million utensils next to each plate too, expecting them to learn each one. Despite his need to stay filthy and eat with his hands, he respected his grandmother for that. She taught him manners. They had always proven useful on Olympus.

  The days were longer then, carefree and simple. So simple. If he’d known they were numbered, he might have treasured them more.

  Phoenix stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He looked around the quiet street. The media would be here soon. They caught wind of DOE’s presence on Amelia Island and put two and two together. Soon paparazzi and news trucks would surround the area, causing the biggest raucous this little island would ever experience.

  Phoenix hoped Kennedy Mitchell enjoyed the innocent meal she shared with her family. It would probably be her last. More than that, Phoenix hoped the girl inside that house wasn’t actually the twelfth. For her sake, he hoped the doctors made a mistake. Otherwise her carefree life was down to its last few precious minutes.

  “Channel 9 just pulled up.” Professor Mason grunted, nodding towards a white van parked across from them. “We better go in now before the rest of the vultures arrive.”

  Phoenix’s gaze traveled back to the happy family. We are the real vultures. We are the ones who will ask so much from her.

  “Phoenix, it’s time.”

  “But they haven’t finished eating.”

  There was that excuse, and the fact that the girl hadn’t turned around yet. He kept staring ahead, trying to glimpse her face, but her back was to the window. He'd already seen her face in pictures, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see it now, in person, and before they went inside.

  Maybe he could tell from out here whether or not it was her. Maybe they didn’t have to interrupt the family’s dinner, or for that matter, the girl’s whole bloody life. If she would only turn around.

  He didn’t know why he was behaving like this, so outside of himself. He helped identify five of the eleven existing keepers without hesitating and without so much as a pause.

  This time was different.

  No doubt, this was Calaya’s doing. Bloody stargazers. Phoenix knew he had no business listening to them, but Professor Mason thought they were beneficial. He’d actually used that word, beneficial.

  He’d always taken Mason for a man of science. A man who needed proof. And yet, the professor constantly brought the stargazers to Level 3. Calaya spoke to Phoenix about her visions, whether he cared to hear about them or not. Her visions about the twelfth, in particular, were the ones she most often wanted to tell him about.

  “Phoenix,” Mason urged, “more cars are coming. We should go in now.”

  Phoenix nodded. The girl still hadn’t turned around, but it was too late. Looked like he would have to suck it up and meet her after all.

  Professor Mason tapped on the car window, letting the doctor know it was time. Sigly opened the door, stepping onto the street’s gravel in heels so tall Phoenix thought she might fall over. She moved with the grace of a panther though, walking towards the house in quick, determined strides. He discovered the doctor wasn’t chatty or friendly like Professor Mason. This job was her mission, and she didn’t talk about anything else. Most of the time, she kept quiet, staying focused on the tasks at hand. Qualities that aligned with the way he operated. Qualities he wished were in his possession right now.

  Professor Mason knocked on the front door while the doctor and the Phoenix stood behind. Channel 9 News began to set up their cameras, other vehicles parking along the street behind them.

  The mother answered the door, a soft smile fading from her lips as if she’d just been laughing.

  “Ashley Mitchell?” Mason inquired. He already knew who she was; he was just being polite. They all recognized her face from the files. Young, pretty, mother of three. Cropped dark brown hair and ridiculously big eyes of the same color.

  “That’s me.”

  “I’m Robert Mason.” He gestured behind him. “This is Doctor Lunessa Sigly and Phoenix Jorgensen.” Professor Mason flashed his government badge. “We belong to the Defense Operation of Extraterrestrials. If you don’t mind, we’d like to come inside and talk to you.”

  The mother’s mouth parted but nothing came out. No doubt she heard Phoenix’s name before. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that every person on the planet knew his name.

  Mrs. Mitchell lowered her voice. “My family and I were eating dinner. Could we could talk out here?”

  She knew.

  Phoenix saw it in her face. She definitely knew. At the very least, she suspected.

  “Mrs. Mitchell, if you look behind me, you’ll notice we have some onlookers. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this matter private.”

  Her eyes touched on the vehicles lined up along the street, her face sort of dropping at the sight of them. The news vans were her confirmation. She didn’t want to believe it, they never do, but the evidence was staring back at her.

  Nod
ding, she held the door open, allowing them to step inside. The house was an older one, dated and small. Phoenix had to duck when he walked through the entryway. Inside, it was clean and cozy. Warm. Family photographs and child artwork lined the walls. Their home felt very…intimate. He felt like an intruder.

  Mrs. Mitchell showed them to the living room. All three of her children walked in at the same time, curious expressions lining their faces. A tall, brunette teenager gasped and held a hand over her mouth.

  “Reagan, can you take Linc up to his room and get him ready for bed, please?”

  She nodded dazedly, her eyes still trained on Phoenix. Eventually she took hold of the little boy’s hand and led him up the staircase.

  Those looks of surprise never failed to make him feel uncomfortable. He’d been the recipient of them too many times to count.

  The other daughter stared at Phoenix too. He could feel her eyes boring into him, assessing him. He hadn’t gathered the courage to meet those eyes yet, too afraid of what he might find there.

  Through his peripheral vision, he saw her cross the room to stand before him. She did it shamelessly, and without a word.

  Christ. His body trembled. She must feel the pull too. Like two magnets drawn together, the pull was hard to resist.

  Dreading it, he slowly lifted his gaze.

  The photos did Kennedy Mitchell an injustice. Her aquamarine eyes were a hundred times bluer and brighter in person. Rich, glossy auburn hair fell around her face with just enough curl to make her look like some mythical creature. She was no warrior, definitely. She was something that terrified Phoenix much, much more.

  It was already happening.

  Maybe Calaya was right. Maybe this girl, this baby-faced girl, would become the woman in her visions. Calaya’s soft voice haunted him, filling his mind. The twelfth is your destiny. She, and only she, will hold your heart. Phoenix curled his hands into tight fists. God, she couldn’t be right about this. He refused to let her words control his fate.

  Within seconds, he couldn’t think straight anymore. The world around him began to fade. He knew what was happening, had felt it before with the others, but never like this. Never to this extent. A hundred times stronger and more potent, he swore he could actually feel the blood rushing through his veins, his heart beating in his chest. He was meant to stand here, in this moment, with this girl, as if she were all he needed.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Phoenix knew she felt it too. Her eyes questioned his, wide and unblinking. Barely able to understand the feeling himself, he couldn’t begin to explain it to her. How was one supposed to explain the feeling of completion? Not without scaring the hell out of her, that was for sure. Besides, she already looked freaked out. No point in making it worse.

  Phoenix felt himself become heavier, grounded, and he knew the moment had passed. He realized they had an audience.

  Mrs. Mitchell, Mason, and Sigly stared at the two of them as if they were witnessing a whirling maelstrom. To say it was awkward may have been the understatement of the century.

  Mason was the first to break the silence. He cleared his throat and asked, “So um, Jorgensen is she the one?”

  Phoenix gave him his answer with just a slight nod of his head, and sat down on the sofa.

  “What,” Mrs. Mitchell said, “are you talking about?”

  Mason began to explain. Kennedy lowered herself into the nearest chair, absorbing the news of what she was. She lifted a hand to her head.

  He wasn’t surprised. Hearing this kind of news could make anyone’s head spin.

  “Are you understanding what I’m telling you, Mrs. Mitchell? Do you understand that Kennedy is the twelfth keeper?”

  At first, Phoenix assumed the mother was confused. He even thought she might cry. After a few moments, Mrs. Mitchell burst out laughing. “Ridiculous!” She slapped a hand over her stomach and bent over in her chair. By the sound of her laughter, she really did think it was funny.

  Looking disgruntled, Mason shifted in his seat. Phoenix felt sorry for the guy. The professor wasn’t used to this kind of thing. He was used to people listening to him lecture, taking him seriously, and valuing the things he had to say. “I assure you, this is no joke.”

  “We’ve tested your daughter’s blood multiple times,” Dr. Sigly added. “All the results have been conclusive. She is, in fact, the twelfth keeper.”

  “You’ve made a mistake.” She spat out between chuckles. “My daughter is no keeper.”

  Mason rubbed his temples. Knowing him, he wouldn’t sit through much more of this. “Look, ma’am, whether you believe it or not, Dr. Sigly is quite positive. That being said, Kennedy must come with us to Olympus to begin her training.” He stood, towering over all of them. “Immediately.”

  Mrs. Mitchell stopped laughing. “She will do no such thing. For Pete’s sake, Kenn is afraid of almost everything. It was like pulling teeth just getting her to sit through her vaccinations.” She looked around the room at all of their faces. “And you expect me to believe she is a keeper—a protector of Earth? You people have to be out of your frickin’ minds.”

  Phoenix ventured a glance towards Kennedy, noticing a blush had crept into her cheeks. She looked away, keeping her eyes set on the floor. He wanted to reach out and take her hand into his but stopped himself.

  “Look, Mrs. Mitchell, most keepers start out not knowing what they’re capable of. Their abilities are usually dormant, hidden somewhere beneath layers of doubt and misunderstanding. It’s very likely Kennedy hasn’t tapped into that yet, not in tune with herself, if you will. However, we have a team of experts on Olympus to assist her.”

  Mason waited for her reply, but Mrs. Mitchell said nothing. All she did was stare at him as if he were a lunatic.

  “You do realize this is an honor, don’t you?”

  An honor. Phoenix wondered if that’s what it really was, this thing they’d been entitled to. A huge responsibility, yes. An indefinite lifetime of servitude, no questions asked. But an honor? There was a time he used to think so, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

  The girl, who had remained silent the entire time, finally spoke. Her voice was hushed and small, but they all heard her clearly. “It is an honor that is not mine. My mother is right, Professor Mason. I would know if I was a keeper.” She twisted the brace on her wrist. “I’m not.”

  Phoenix stared at her, positive she felt the same things he had only moments ago. She couldn’t deny it—he’d seen it in her eyes.

  “Kennedy, I know you’re probably scared. But you have to trust us. The United Council has put billions of dollars into DOE’s resources in order to find you and train you. We don’t make mistakes. Not when this much money and the public eye is involved. The entire planet is counting on you to be their protector. We can’t disappoint them.”

  She shook her head, refusing to accept it. “You’re wrong. You think you’re fail-proof, but I can’t be the twelfth keeper. It’s craziness, absolute bonkers—”

  “Kennedy, calm down.” Mason reached across the coffee table and placed a hand over hers. It trembled so bad Phoenix wanted to lie to Professor Mason and tell him he’d made a mistake, that she wasn’t really the twelfth. If he didn’t think they’d double-check with another keeper, he just might’ve.

  Her head lifted. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But I can’t be your keeper. I’m so sorry.”

  Mason gently squeezed her hand. “Nobody is asking you to turn into a mighty warrior over night, kiddo. We’re only asking you to come with us. We’re only asking you to stand up for the planet you call home.” He looked around their house, taking it all in, the size, the outdated fixtures, everything. “By any chance, do you know how much money a keeper earns per year?”

  She shook her head.

  “One million gold globs annually—tax free. Bet your family might appreciate that number, especially a single mom who works two jobs.”

  “How did you know—” Mrs. Mitchell gasped. “That’
s it. I’ve heard about as much as I can handle. Leave. All of you.” She stood up, commanding their attention, and pointed to the door. “Bribing my daughter into going with you—it’s ridiculous!”

  “Mrs. Mitchell, your daughter is no longer a regular citizen. By nature of what she is, she belongs to the people. You can send us away now, but we’ll just come back with a court order, and it won’t come from the U.S. courts. It’ll come from higher up.”

  Mrs. Mitchell’s face turned a blotchy red and her shoulders heaved as she tried to contain her fury. “Out!”

  Mason backed off. “Fine. We’ll leave.” He tossed a business card into Kennedy’s lap. “In case you change your mind before I get my court order.”

  Phoenix moved to leave but paused. Kennedy’s rosy complexion had turned shades paler as she stared off into space. He wanted to say something, console her somehow, but didn’t.

  He walked past her chair and didn’t bother looking back. She would be okay, he told himself. Eventually, anyway.

  Regret ate at him the moment he walked past her. He should have told her everything would be all right. Should have patted her on the shoulder, should’ve squeezed her hand or something—anything.

  He did nothing.

  Guilt was already creeping up on him and he hadn’t even made it through the front door. Phoenix groaned inwardly.

  Interfering in her life would only make Calaya’s visions come true that much faster. Would it really be so horrible if they did come true?

  He brushed the thought away.

  All of his life Phoenix had valued his choices, so few were his own. He’d be damned if he was going to let some two-bit stargazer convince him that his fate was mapped out.

  So no, he wouldn’t turn back and say anything to Kennedy Mitchell. He didn’t want to, and that was his choice to make.

  Dozens of lights flashed as the door opened. Reporters bombarded them with questions and Mason pulled him close. “Don’t make any comments. The poor girl will look like a coward if her identity is confirmed.”