The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

  Right?

  She chewed on her bottom lip, hoping that wasn’t the case. What if he was fine with not speaking to her, knowing she was leaving? She didn’t want to believe he’d be fine with that. She definitely wasn’t.

  “Kennedy? You still there?”

  Davaris again.

  She rested her head against the door, closing her eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears. He’s not coming for me.

  Breathing in through her nose, she tried not to let her voice reflect how much that hurt. “Still here.”

  “I’m sorry…why don’t you try again tomorrow?”

  She looked up at the ceiling, blinking, her eyelashes wet with tears. Holding it back was too hard. She wanted to scream. And cry. She even wanted to curse Davaris out, and he wasn’t even remotely to blame.

  It was hard to breathe, to speak, to move from this spot. She opened her mouth to tell Davaris she’d be back tomorrow but froze.

  He knows I’m leaving, and he still won’t come for me.

  “Maybe,” she finally choked out, and then repeated the word again more clearly. “Maybe I’ll be back tomorrow. Tell him that.”

  She sounded childish, but she didn’t take back the acidic words. She simply walked away, trying to keep herself moving forward instead of running back to bang on the door like she wanted to do.

  Maybe she would be better off not coming back.

  Maybe she shouldn’t care whether or not Phoenix chose to say goodbye to her.

  Just maybe.

  Two

  “She’s leaving, Nix.”

  Phoenix’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. He felt like ramming his fist into the wall. No, he felt like blowing up the damned wall. He probably could too, if he tried hard enough. What was the point of all this pent up energy flowing through his veins if he couldn’t unleash it? Living on a space station had never made sense to him. Always too dangerous, too uncertain for him when it came to manipulating fire. Thank God he finally got Mason to see that. They were sending him back to Earth as soon as he and Davaris gained the slightest bit of control over themselves.

  It wasn’t true anyway, about Kennedy leaving. Not if he had anything to say about it. Professor Mason mentioned the possibility of sending her on this type of mission, but he didn’t take it seriously then, and he sure as hell wasn’t taking it seriously now. Whatever DOE was planning, he’d put a stop to it. Either that, or he’d quit again. After the last time, he knew no one was dumb enough to let that happen.

  Davaris tilted his head as he looked at Phoenix. “You’re really just gonna sit there and let her walk away?”

  “Davaris…I can’t.”

  Even as he spoke, he felt the heat expanding in his chest, bubbling beneath the surface. His whole body was feverishly hot, and any moment now he might unknowingly blast something—or someone—to cinders. She’d already gotten in the way once. Once was one time too many.

  “The mission lasts a year, Nix. One. Whole. Year.” He emphasized each word carefully. “If you let her leave without saying goodbye, you’ll lose her.”

  With that said, Davaris crossed the room to his own bed. Most likely he wanted to say more, but he wouldn’t. He knew better than anyone what this was like. This constant inability to gain control. Over their bodies. Over their minds. The fear they felt. The weakness. The pain.

  The pain was by far the worst part. Those first few days had given them an all-inclusive vacation into hell. Phoenix had gotten countless injuries over the years—cracked ribs, broken bones, cuts, even had a tooth knocked out during one of the rougher training sessions—all received while hardly batting an eye. He wasn’t one to make sounds or complain, not so much because of pride, but because he simply didn’t feel pain the way other people did. Davaris was the same. The fire keepers didn’t like to show weakness. Part of it was knowing the pain never lasted for very long. But Phoenix had never felt agony like this before.

  After Fang died, he felt like he was being scorched from the inside out, like his cells were realigning, like he’d swallowed a bucket of fire ants, and they were coursing through his veins and stinging him in every possible crevice of his body. He writhed on the floor, screaming, begging for it to end, every few hours passing out from the pain. But it never ended. In the few moments he was aware of what was going on around him, he heard Davaris in the background, asking for someone to shoot him, to put an end to his misery.

  Hearing Davaris beg for death triggered something, an almost primal survival instinct taking over. That couldn’t be the only way out. Fang couldn’t have died just to leave the two of them to do the same. “Shut up and fight,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “We’ll make it through this. We have to…for her.”

  Davaris quit asking to die after that, and Phoenix fought to stay conscious. As each day passed, the pain lessened a little more, but the lack of control was always there.

  Their cement room was the only thing keeping them from scorching the place, their room that made a prison cell sound like a five-star luxury hotel suite. Four blank walls. Uncomfortable metal beds. And nothing else.

  The caretakers had tried bringing in bedding at least a dozen times, but Phoenix finally told them not to bother. The fumes gave them headaches, and smoke cleared faster when there was nothing to burn. So he and Davaris learned to sleep without it. The one small amenity they appreciated was the TV mounted behind fireproof glass on the wall; it got them through their days. Except during the few times they came across Fang’s image during a news wave. Seeing her picture made Phoenix’s throat constrict, fire instantly forming at his fingertips. It literally hurt to see her.

  Knowing they’d been on bad terms when she died only made things worse. She was his friend, and she died thinking she wasn’t anymore. He wished he had the chance to set things right. He wished…God, it didn’t matter now. She was gone, and there wasn’t one bloody thing he could do about it.

  They made sure to steer clear of all the news channels after that. They didn’t need any more reminders that Fang was gone. They had been feeling the break every day, every moment, every second, since she took her last breath.

  They just had to stay here until it ended.

  If it ever ended.

  ~ ~

  Metal creaked as the back wall lifted, revealing a thick panel of glass. A cluster of people stood behind that panel, staring in at Phoenix and Davaris as if it weren’t an invasion of their privacy.

  “Wake up, Davaris,” Phoenix grumbled. “Time to be puppets.”

  Phoenix couldn’t identify all of them. There were several doctors. Lunessa Sigly, otherwise known as the demonic witch who tried to drown Kennedy, was included. Apparently they valued her medical expertise. She stared down at them like a hawk, inspecting their every move. The rest of the group was made up of scientists and military. All DOE employees, of course. You could tell by their uniforms of grays and blacks, white coats, and overall lack of personality.

  His gaze shot straight to Professor Mason, who was busy working his way to the front of the crowd. He stood out from DOE’s standard archetype, in appearance and in personality. A white beard covered the bottom half of his ageless face, coming to a point right below his chin. He wore a checkered sweater vest over a button up and slacks, looking exactly the same as he had when Phoenix first met the professor nearly fifteen years ago.

  While the other suits stood at attention, each of their faces expressionless, Mason peeked through the glass with a grin, even going so far as to wave. His voice boomed through the speakers.

  “Both you boys look a helluva lot better than you did the last time I checked on you.”

  Phoenix looked in Davaris’s direction, searching for the so-called improvement. He didn’t see it.

  Davaris’s eyes drooped with exhaustion. His face looked unusually gaunt, and just like Phoenix, Davaris’s fingers twitched and trembled.

  Still…he supposed they looked better compared to how Mason saw them last: writhing on t
he floor, their bodies convulsing to keep the flow of energy under control. It had taken at least a dozen men in fireproof armor to get them to this cell.

  “How do you feel?” With anyone else, that question would have been a formality. But Mason actually gave a damn.

  “About the same,” Davaris answered with a shrug. “Our temps are still peaking at one-fifteen.”

  Mason turned to Sigly. “What’s considered high for them?”

  “Fire manipulators’ normal range is between 99 and 105 degrees Fahrenheit.”

  “How are they still functioning? Wouldn’t their brains have fried by this point?”

  Davaris cleared his throat. “Still here, Mase. Let’s skip the gory possibilities.”

  Dr. Sigly glanced at both of them, and Phoenix caught the uncertainty in her eyes. She couldn’t explain what was going on with them any better than they could, and knowing her, she didn’t like that. Sigly helped engineer the tests designed to find the keepers, and she prided herself on her ability to identify medical anomalies. The surrounding suits all eyed her now, waiting for a response she clearly didn’t have.

  “A normal human wouldn’t be able to withstand the fever,” she replied, her voice falling just slightly. “We all know, however, that Phoenix and Davaris have extraordinary abilities. Their bodies are generating the same energy they’re trying to fight off. Once we gather more data—”

  “Being stuck in here is the problem,” Davaris said loudly, regaining everyone’s attention.

  “How could you possibly know that?” Sigly asked him.

  Davaris ignored her. “Professor, I think Phoenix is right about us needing to get out of Olympus.”

  “Working on that,” Mason said, nodding. “As soon as the two of you gain more control—”

  “Whatever hell is raging inside us needs to be let out,” Phoenix interrupted. “Now. Take us to a remote desert if you have to. Just get us off this space station.”

  The doctors and scientists collectively shook their heads in disapproval. All at once they started discussing the idea amongst themselves, obvious that none of them approved.

  “It’s not that simple,” Mason argued, his voice lowered. “I can’t just put you guys on a rocket and hope for the best. Everyone has protocol to follow.”

  “You don’t have another option. Davaris and I can’t gain control, not in this cell.”

  “You need to keep trying,” Mason pleaded with them. “Leaving poses too many variables—”

  Phoenix scowled. “Make it happen, Mason. I’m not asking again. In fact, my next move is to blow up that door—and you know I will.”

  “Calm down, Phoenix. I’m on your side, remember?”

  Phoenix glanced down at the glowing orbs of fire vibrating in his palms. With a deep breath and a wave of his hands, they were gone.

  He hated this. Hated feeling like he was always on the brink of exploding. One of these days it might just happen, all the more reason Mason needed to take him seriously.

  “Sir, have you considered that the risks of keeping us here might outweigh those of getting us out?” Davaris asked.

  It was as if he’d read Phoenix’s mind.

  Mason leaned closer to the glass separating him from their room. “What do you mean?”

  Davaris cleared his throat. “Nix and I have a theory…we believe we’re ticking time bombs, sir. No one knows exactly what’s possible. We don’t know what kind of destruction we’re capable of creating. All we have to go on is our guts, and our guts are telling us to get out. I think you need to trust us on that. I think it might be the only way we can heal.”

  Mason went silent for a few long seconds, his face hardening as he thought. Phoenix had to hand it to Davaris; he painted their situation in a different light, one that drew real consequences, and one that Mason would have to consider. The frightening part was that those consequences actually were possible.

  He couldn’t handle that, not after Fang. The thought of hurting people as a result of her death was unbearable.

  “Suppose you have a point,” Mason admitted. “Let me talk to the board. Give me a few days.”

  “You have until the end of the week,” Phoenix told him.

  Dr. Sigly’s face tightened. She slid around Mason to speak directly into the audio box, her already severe voice sharpening as she spoke. “It should be made clear that you are in no position to make threats. We can and will treat you as terrorists should you act in that manner.”

  Phoenix rocked back on his heels. A smug grin pulled at his lips as he leveled the glare Sigly was sending his way. Her gray eyes raked over him coldly, a superior confidence radiating from her—something Phoenix could shatter as easily as the glass panel she thought kept her safe. She had always treated the keepers like lab rats, like they were test subjects with chromosome defects. If she knew how to treat someone like an actual human being, he’d never seen it. Right now, she was aiming to scare them into submission. Considering how hard Phoenix fought to protect everyone from his own power, her attempt was laughable. Sigly could try all the scare tactics she wanted, but they wouldn’t work.

  He approached the glass, meeting her pointed stare. “Dare you to try.”

  Watching how much that pissed her off was priceless. Her lips thinned out, and her pale cheeks turned a bright red. She turned sharply on her heel, leaving the room.

  Before the other doctors and agents followed suit, they proceeded to ask Phoenix and Davaris a few cursory questions. Then they left too, the wall descending back into place, once again giving the cell an illusory sense of privacy.

  “Did you mean it?” Davaris asked once it was safe. “About breaking out of here?”

  “Every word. Once the week is up, the door is coming down.”

  Staying here was too big of a gamble, too much like playing a worn out game of Russian roulette. So far they’d both managed to hold it together, but Phoenix could feel the pressure building inside of him. He knew Davaris felt it too. They didn’t have any other choice.

  Davaris let out a long sigh, dropping back onto the edge of his bed. “Sure hope it doesn’t come to that…but no matter how this plays out, we’re gonna have a meltdown on our hands.”

  “Then we need to be prepared.”

  Three

  Kennedy hesitated as she reached for the door handle to the communications room. She allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath; she would need strength to get through this conversation.

  Once she was inside and seated, she dialed her mom’s house on the satellite phone. One ring later and a clear picture of Reagan sitting at their dining room table came into view.

  Kennedy’s image popped up on their screen, and her sister beamed. “Hey, Kenn!”

  “Hey, Rea. It’s good to see you.”

  The familiarity of their kitchen, the small wooden dining table, the family photos hanging on the wall, all caused a sharp pang of homesickness. Reagan looked like a younger version of Ashley, slender with big expressive doe eyes and thick, dark brown hair that she currently had braided to one side.

  “Oh look, you still have Bobo,” Kennedy pointed to the fish bowl sitting on the table next to Reagan.

  “Actually, this is Bobo number two. Lincoln dumped a box of Nite Brites into the bowl, so we had to switch him out for another.”

  Kennedy shook her head. “Poor fish. Where is everyone?”

  “Mom’s running a few minutes late. She should be here any second with Jake. I figured it’s a good time to have some one-on-one sister bonding while we wait.”

  “Sounds perfect…” She hesitated for a moment. “Is, uh, Hunter coming too?”

  Reagan’s smile faded, which was enough answer in itself. “I’m sorry, Kenn.”

  The back of her throat tightened. She asked them all to be there for this conversation, letting them know it was an important one. Granted, expecting Hunter to show up was a long shot, especially after the way he found out about Phoenix. She still rem
embered his face when he saw the two of them together, the way his eyes sliced through her heart. It would be a while before he’d forgive her, if ever. But…she still had hope.

  “Look, don’t take it personal. Hunter is pissing everyone off lately, including Mom and Jake.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s decided to be the new bad boy on campus, ditching school for the beach, drinking and smoking all the time—oh, he’s still dating Ava by the way.” Reagan rolled her eyes. “She’s a real gem to have around.”

  “Why would you have to be around her?”

  Reagan winced. She paused, chewing on her bottom lip for a few moments. “Okay, this is something Mom wanted to tell you, so act surprised when she does, okay? Jake moved in a few weeks ago.”

  Moved in?

  Kennedy barely had time to process their new relationship, and now Jake had already moved into their home? This was too much.

  “They’re renting out his house for now,” Reagan continued. “They don’t want to sell it in case things don’t work out or whatever, but both he and Hunter are here, and it’s extremely cramped. Jake is working on building an addition, but who knows how long it’ll take before he’s finished.”

  Kennedy sat back in her chair, absorbing everything Reagan told her. It was a lot to take in, but what bothered her more than anything was realizing that her family’s life had become largely separate from hers. Once she told them about the mission, it would become even more so. She hated that it didn’t matter if she was living in Amelia Island or not; life seemed to go on without her. Her stomach tightened, the unsettling feeling churning. She felt like she was going to be sick. It was finally hitting her that she was leaving, and that things wouldn’t be the same when she got back.

  Not that she resented her mom for moving on. After watching Ashley struggle for years after her dad’s death, the woman deserved a little happiness. So then why was this news so depressing? Knowing her family was doing just fine should fuel her strength to leave, give her the reassurance she needed.