The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

  “Good.” She smiled back at him. “I’ve recently cut back my hours at work, and now that I have more time on my hands, I’ve found I enjoy cooking.”

  “Do you need help with anything?” He thought it was a good question to ask, but he didn’t spend much time eating home cooked meals, or visiting people for that matter, so he wasn’t sure what was considered polite.

  “We’re good, but thanks.” Mrs. Mitchell set her towel on the counter and turned the mixer back on. “Kennedy is out back,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ll be done in a bit.”

  Phoenix fled through the back door, sort of relieved to get out of there. The backyard was small, only a patch of green, consisting of two oak trees, a palm and an empty hammock. Kennedy was in the middle practicing…Karate?

  If that’s what it was.

  She made it look like a toddler playing ninja. He made a tsk, tsk noise. “Master Mushi would be ashamed.”

  Kennedy turned around, her eyes slit. “Keep the snarky black-belt remarks to yourself. This doesn’t come easy to everyone.”

  Phoenix shook his head, letting out a breath she wouldn’t hear. He’d been teasing, but this was obviously a sensitive subject. Bloody hell.

  He eyed her up and down. “You know I can help you, if you want.”

  She stood straighter, chewing on her lower lip. After a long moment of debating, she held up her hands as if to say what the hell.

  “What stance were you just in?”

  “Zenkutzu, I think.”

  “No, you weren’t.” He kept his voice even, showing her he was only making an observation. “You have to keep both of your feet straight, like this.” He demonstrated the stance. When she tried to mimic him, he tapped her ankles to move them into the correct position. “Yep, just like that.”

  She lowered her eyes, looking over her form. A slow smile crept across her face when she saw she’d gotten it right. “I also have trouble with the kicks.”

  “Okay. We’ll work on those.”

  For the next few minutes, he helped her learn how to do a proper kick. He figured she wasn’t as bad as she thought because it wasn’t long before she got the hang of it. She needed time and repetitions to perfect it, and maybe a hearty dose of self-confidence, but she would get it eventually.

  Most of the keepers had years to practice martial arts and a number of other types of combat. They barely had to think about it anymore, the moves had become so practiced. Watching them train could make it seem hopeless for a beginner. He had a feeling that’s what was bringing her down.

  “See, you got it.” He nudged her with his elbow, pushing her off balance mid-kick.

  He grinned when she swatted at him. Or tried to. He blocked her hands with ease. “Calm down, grasshopper.”

  Kennedy gave up, rolled her eyes and headed to the hammock, falling into it. “So when are you planning to tell me what happened in Russia?”

  He let out a sigh, wishing he didn’t have to. It had been hard enough telling Mason, and humiliating besides. He raked his hands through his hair, wondering where to begin. “We lost Dominika.” That was probably the most pivotal event in the stack of them.

  Kennedy sat up in the hammock, staring at him with wide eyes. “You lost Nika?”

  He continued to tell her the whole story, from start to finish, and didn’t leave out a single piece. By the time he was done, she was as confused as he was about the whole thing.

  “So you’re saying she knew someone on the list of names you found?” Kennedy asked, trying to help him make sense of it.

  He nodded. “That’s what she said. Do you think that has anything to do with why she ran off?”

  Kennedy shrugged. “I mean—it’s definitely weird. You said she seemed so committed in the beginning, so it doesn’t make sense that she would just disappear unless something provoked her. Maybe it was the name she saw.”

  Phoenix had considered that, too. Professor Mason was currently in the middle of a detailed investigation for every name on that list.

  “We’re not sure how any of the names relate,” he told Kennedy. “But we know that one of them lives in Orlando—a golfer’s wife. I plan to interview her while I’m here in Florida.”

  “When?” she asked, leaning forward.

  “I don’t know,” He leaned against one of the trees. “Tomorrow, maybe. Your mom invited me to stay the night.”

  Sunlight streamed through the trees, reflecting the crimson-red highlights in Kennedy’s hair. She was so beautiful, and she didn’t notice it. He liked that about her.

  She nodded, thinking for a moment. “Okay. I’m coming.”

  Her tone dared him to argue with her, but he didn’t bother. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to come. This part of the world was her home, just as Russia was Nika’s. “I’ll talk to Mason.”

  She sat back into the hammock, looking relieved to hear him say that. “Thank you.” Her words were whispered, but they held a depth of gratitude.

  He doubted the Nika argument would hold much ground with Professor Mason now that she’d disappeared. But he was taking Kennedy whether he liked it or not. One more day was all he had left before going back to the monotony of Olympus. He wanted to spend every last second of it with Kennedy.

  Ten

  Between her mom and sister and their probing questions, Kennedy assumed dinner would be unbearable. But surprisingly, it wasn’t so bad. Phoenix had charmed them both over in no time. Mostly he talked about where he grew up in Norway, his horde of brothers, and a grandmother in London he referred to as the “cheerful dictator.”

  Thankfully, no one asked the So how’d you get to be friends with Kennedy? question. She doubted Ashley would appreciate the fact that Phoenix saved her from nearly drowning to death—all because DOE officials thought it was in her best interest to hold her under water. She still couldn’t get over that one. How did drowning a person help them to get over their fear of the water? That was like pushing someone with a fear of heights off the tallest building. The rationale was beyond her comprehension.

  Later, when she told Ashley she would be going to Orlando the next day, she got an earsplitting, “But you just got here!”

  “It’s only for the day, Mom. Don’t freak out.”

  “I haven’t spoken to Mason yet.” Phoenix eyed Kennedy subtly, letting her know nothing had been confirmed yet.

  In her mind, it was already confirmed. Whether Mason agreed to authorize her or not, she was going, and there wasn’t one thing he could say about it. She was tired of sitting around like some useless outdated gadget, instead of contributing like a keeper should be doing.

  Ashley said, “If it’s only for the day, I suppose I’m okay with it. I work tomorrow anyway.”

  After dinner, Phoenix contacted Mason. Kennedy was in the middle of making up his bed on the sofa when she heard him arguing out on the front porch. “Grant the approval, Professor. It’s an interview with a housewife. We can handle it.”

  Kennedy stepped outside, quietly shutting the door behind her. Opening and shutting doors was something she was still getting used to since leaving Olympus. She’d grown so accustomed to them doing it automatically that she barely noticed they were there most of the time. Ah, the things people took for granted…

  “It’s not that simple, Nix.”

  Professor Mason’s tanned face and his pointy white beard lit up the space in front of Phoenix. There was a stubborn crease to his brow that hinted at his mood.

  “Hello, Kennedy,” Mason said, seeing her approach. “How’s Florida this time of year?”

  “It’s sunny, Professor. How have you been?”

  “Not great, kiddo. I’m preparing for a Sae-yer battle. On top of that, I’m under fire for losing Dominika.”

  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” Kennedy said with a teasing wink. “No disappearing acts, I swear.” Then more seriously, she added, “I only want to help.”

  Professor Mason let out a long, grumbling
sigh. He looked away from the camera lens, debating. “Fine. I suppose I’ll approve it.”

  Phoenix and Kennedy exchanged surprised glances. They both expected more of an argument, but Mason was proving to be unexpectedly compliant.

  “When the two of you talk to Mrs. Little, find out everything you can. Ask her about the names on that list, see if she recognizes any of them.”

  “What about the plate number I gave you?” Phoenix asked. “Did you find out who owns the bike?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s a company vehicle, owned by Ryder Industries.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means a dead end, Nix. We contacted their distribution department, but they’ve lost record of who the bike was allocated to.”

  Phoenix balled his hands into fists. “A little too convenient, if you ask me.”

  Professor Mason shrugged. “Sometimes that’s the way it goes. Try your luck with Mrs. Little. At this point, getting to the bottom of Project 27 isn’t going to happen unless she gives you a lead.”

  Phoenix nodded. “We’ll try our best.” He signed off, and Professor Mason’s face disappeared.

  Lingering disappointment lined Phoenix’s expression. Kennedy could see he was taking this much harder than she originally thought. “You could still find him.” She hoped some of her optimism would rub off on him.

  “I’m not so sure about that.” He walked to the porch railing and looked up at the stars. “I might’ve screwed up this assignment.”

  So much for being optimistic.

  Kennedy swung her legs, and hopped up onto the railing, facing Phoenix. “Let’s say you did. Hypothetically.”

  He met her gaze, arching a brow. “Okay…”

  “So it’s screwed. Big deal.” She shrugged. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about than some mysterious file Plaffle left behind in his computer. Things like evil aliens coming to destroy the planet, remember?”

  “You shouldn’t joke about that.”

  She snorted. “Trust me—I only joke to keep from crying.”

  For one short moment, he cracked a smile, but it disappeared just as quickly. “I don’t know, Kennedy. There’s something bigger behind this project, I can feel it.”

  “Maybe what you’re feeling is antsy—did you ever think of that? Like you need to be doing something to keep from going crazy? Waiting for the Sae-yers to get here can’t be easy on any of us. I think we’re all sort of waiting around for DOE to give us the bad news.”

  “Is that what you’ve been going through?”

  Kennedy stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “To tell you the truth, I’m scared to death. Every day I’m here, I’m wondering if these are the last moments I’ll spend with my family. And they don’t have a clue…sometimes I wish I could tell them. Other times, I’m grateful they don’t know.”

  Confessing all of that lifted a huge weight from her shoulders. She hated being scared. Hated it. Fear was an emotion she didn’t want to acknowledge now that she had taken on the role of a keeper. There wasn’t room for fear, not when you had billions of people to protect.

  But Phoenix understood. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She allowed him to comfort her this one time, and rested her head against his shoulder. “I worry about that, too,” he admitted.

  That was hard to imagine. He was an expert at hiding his fear because she never saw him show it.

  “You can’t let it take over your life,” he said. “It’s one threat. Do you know how many dangers are out there in the universe? The number is endless, and that’s why we can’t let it consume us, or keep us from living. If the Sae-yers make good on their threat, we’ll be ready.”

  “How do you know that?” Doubt laced her voice. “I feel so useless. How can we stay positive, when we’re not preparing?”

  That’s what bothered her the most, the not doing anything. In order to be ready, they should be getting ready. Preparing. Training. Learning about the enemy. Day in and day out, they should be doing…something.

  But none of that was happening.

  “Because planets are resilient. We’ll fight off what doesn’t belong.” He pulled back, and met her gaze. “Do you know why they call Earth a planet?”

  She shook her head.

  “Because it’s really just an overgrown plant.”

  Analogies clearly weren’t up his alley, especially if that one was supposed to be encouraging.

  “So if Earth is a plant, what are keepers?” she asked. “The bugs that crawl all over it?”

  “No, we’re the thorns in the stem,” he said, his voice lowering. “We prick those who try to steal our flower.”

  Hmm.

  It made sense.

  In a weird, freaky biological way she didn’t want to make sense of.

  Phoenix kissed the top of her head and grinned down at her. “Stop worrying, my love. What happened to the girl who was all gung-ho about kicking some slayer ass?”

  She missed everything after he called her my love. He still hadn’t told her he loved her, but her heart had skipped a beat as if he had.

  Oblivious to the ecstatic joy she was feeling, Phoenix’s voice broke through her temporary la-la land. “You have to get mad. You have to want revenge.”

  He was right.

  When Professor Mason first broke the news that Sae-yers were coming here, she was angry. Angrier than she’d ever felt in her entire life. She almost looked forward to their arrival, ready to get retribution for everything they had done. For all the turmoil, all the unrest, the grief. For China…for the millions who lost their lives.

  Maybe anger was a good thing. If she was ever going to get through this, she needed some of that anger to replace the fear.

  “We should probably get some sleep,” Phoenix said, and she nodded against his chest. He helped her down from the balcony, and then went completely still. His gaze traveled across the front yard.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Icy currents tickled the back of her neck as she watched his black eyes sharpen. She turned around, and saw what he was looking at. Or rather, who he was looking at.

  Hunter stared hard at Kennedy, slicing her open with the look in his eyes. Then he turned his back on her. Not one word was spoken as he headed towards his house. The silence grew so thick, even the crickets stopped chirping.

  She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight. This wasn’t happening. Not now, not like this.

  Except it was.

  She weighed her options, wondering if she should chase after him. But what could she say? Denying it was pointless—she had a big fat label made out of construction tape that erased all former doubt. She couldn’t apologize either, even if she wanted to. It was way too soon for him to hear an I’m sorry.

  She had a sinking feeling there was nothing she could say or do to make this better.

  Phoenix started to ask her if she was all right, but she brushed past him. Looking at his face only made it worse. “I can’t right now,” she said over her shoulder and then went inside.

  He didn’t push her to talk, and she was grateful for that. Showing how much this hurt her would only hurt him too, and not in an empathetic, caring way.

  She had no one but herself. Honestly, that was a punishment enough on its own.

  Eleven

  The drive to Orlando was mostly spent in silence. Kennedy tried talking to Phoenix on the way there, but as soon as they got inside his rental car, he turned the stereo up, drowning out all room for conversation.

  She didn’t blame him if he was mad. If she were in his shoes, she’d be upset too.

  At least it didn’t take long to get there. Once they hopped on the turnpike, their car picked up speed, ranging between one and two hundred miles per hour, depending on the traffic. Since it stayed pretty clear, they reached their destination in just under an hour.

  Penelope Little lived in a neighborhood called Islesworth, one of those ritzy, gated communities filled with mansion after man
sion. Kennedy stared out the window as they passed a series of elegant homes, each one bigger and more beautiful than the last.

  Mrs. Little’s house was on a cul-de-sac, and it was one of the biggest ones they’d seen so far. Kennedy peeled back her sunglasses as she got out of the car, taking it all in.

  Holy mother of mansions.

  This place was beyond extravagant. You could probably stuff ten of her houses in there, and still have room to spare.

  “Her husband is a pro golfer,” Phoenix explained.

  “He must be one of the best.” She was a little surprised he was speaking to her again.

  Phoenix rang the doorbell, and a yapping came from inside. A slender brunette opened the door, cradling a growling teacup Yorkshire terrier in one arm. “Oh, shush,” she scolded the overgrown rodent, tapping it on the head. “He thinks he’s a pit bull,” she said, offering them a smile.

  Kennedy exchanged an amused look with Phoenix. This lady was the epitome of the rich housewife. Little dog, designer clothes, jewel-encrusted wrists—all the traits were there.

  “I’m Penelope Little.” She extended her free arm to shake their hands. “It’s an honor to meet you both. I can’t tell you how excited I was when I heard keepers would be stopping by for a visit.”

  “Thank you,” Phoenix replied. “We’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

  Mrs. Little waved that aside. “Don’t worry about that. Come on in.” She opened the door wider for them.

  As they walked into the foyer, Mrs. Little called for someone named Maya to bring them coffee and tea.

  She took them to a formal living room. Kennedy sat down on the sofa next to Phoenix, and then jumped when it moved beneath her.

  “Oh, that’s one of those hovering sofas, dear,” Mrs. Little said. “It adjusts to your frame and lifts you into the air for a weightless recline.”

  Kennedy craned her neck and saw that her feet were, in fact, hovering over the ground. Beside her, Phoenix unsuccessfully tried to hide a grin.