The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

The four of them made their way back inside the hotel and headed toward the elevator. There were only two floors, and by the looks of the place, there weren’t many other guests. At least it would be peaceful and quiet.

  By the time she was back in her room, Lexie barely managed to brush her teeth and undress. Effects of the wine, probably. She tried to remember if she drank two or three glasses. It couldn’t have been more than that.

  When she fell into bed, she felt heavier. Her legs and arms like solid stone. Even her eyelids weighed down, closing the moment her head touched the pillow. She’d planned to look over the maps before going to bed, wanting to get a jumpstart on tomorrow’s journey, but she doubted she could move if she tried.

  Ah, well.

  Maps, schmaps. She was too exhausted to think straight tonight. She’d look over them tomorrow morning.

  Just as she was drifting off, she heard the doorknob click, followed by a faint rustling. Had she imagined that? She compelled her eyes to open, but they wouldn’t budge. This jetlag was the worst she’d ever experienced…

  More rustling and scuffling along the carpet. The sound of a zipper opening.

  Was there someone in the room?

  She managed to slit her eyes briefly before they shut again. Darkness enveloped her. Too bloody tired. Surely she was already dreaming.

  There was no one…

  Everything, including the noises she heard, faded until there was nothing.

  Five

  “Pressure is on.”

  Kennedy wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, sent Alanna a quick scowl, and refocused. “So not helpful.”

  Alanna chuckled from the other side of the room, the sound of it echoing the tings and lyrical clicks of her Caribbean accent. Her stance was relaxed and calm, whereas Kennedy felt her muscles straining, fighting against the weight of a thousand pounds. The pressure, as Alanna termed it, was definitely on.

  Between them lay the Jacuzzi-sized pool of water they trained with on a daily basis. Every ounce of water had been lifted from the pool, forming a giant sphere, held together by the sheer force of her will. She felt it, too. Felt it crushing her, causing her knees to buckle, her hands to shake uncontrollably.

  A year ago, she would have never believed this to be possible. Standing here today, holding the water up with her mind, shaping it into a sphere…well, not much had changed. It still seemed crazy. It still seemed impossible.

  The heat of someone’s hand gently brushed the small of her back. “You’re doing fine,” Colton whispered over her shoulder. “Try not to take your eyes away.”

  “How does she stay so calm?” Kennedy asked, keeping her eyes trained on the sphere. “Like this is no big deal. It’s super annoying.”

  “Don’t pay attention to Lanna. Worry about yourself, and keep the sphere in your line of vision. It helps to stay focused.”

  “Do you know how many gallons of water I’m holding, Colton?”

  “Don’t think about that.”

  “Four hundred,” she breathed. Tiny tremors worked their way down both her arms. “I looked it up before we came.”

  “Why would you—never mind. It doesn’t matter if it’s one gallon or four hundred. The only way your mind can hold it is if you believe you can.”

  Oh sheesh.

  There was more of the manipulation is an extension of your belief crap everyone had been spouting since she came to live on Olympus. Granted, the crap was totally legit. Firsthand experience was proof of that. Believing seemed to make things happen. And the stronger her belief was, the more rapidly they happened, the more defined they became.

  She was just tired of hearing it. Because when it came to water, the challenges she faced were a result of ingrained detachment. She couldn’t help it. Although she now felt deeply connected to the element, she’d spent years fearing it, and she was still in the process of shedding those fears.

  Water was who she was. It gave her the ability to protect her planet, and the people on it. Somewhere deep down in her core, she knew that. She felt the strength water gave her, felt the beautiful awe-inspiring energy surrounding that strength. She shouldn’t be afraid, ever, of something so incredible. But trying to explain to her mind what her body felt wasn’t happening overnight.

  A voice sounded over the intercom. It came from one of the observers who watched from the glass hallway. Kennedy spared them a quick glance, then turned back to the sphere. Four of them, including General Vickard, watched her. “Miss Mitchell, may we see you for a moment.”

  She glanced up, surprised by the request. The DOE suits might be there to discuss the upcoming mission, but if that were the case, they wouldn’t be singling her out.

  She nodded, slowly lowering the sphere back into the pool.

  “Nice and easy,” Colton said. “There you go.”

  Once she released, the water sank and dipped back up, splashing across the lip, soaking their bare feet and calves in the process.

  Colton high-fived her, and said, “Much better than last time.”

  Last time she’d dropped the sphere in the air, she spilled water everywhere but the pool. Calling today an improvement was an understatement.

  Kennedy stepped into the blaster, and with one quick whirlwind of dry wind, all the water was absorbed from her body. She slipped into the expensive embroidered robe DOE had supplied her with and headed toward the door. General Vickard stood out in the hall.

  “Everyday you go to the cell where Jorgensen and Woods are being held.”

  Was that a question or a statement?

  “Yes,” she answered. “I wasn’t aware my every move was being watched.”

  “Everyone’s every move is being watched, Miss Mitchell. We just survived an alien attack. Security is on edge. Have you been able to speak to Jorgensen yet?”

  Kennedy bristled, annoyed that they were watching her so closely. “No,” she admitted. “He refuses to speak to anyone.”

  Vickard nodded, tucking his arms at his sides.

  “We’d like you to keep trying.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

  “Because he has intentions of leaving that cell, and if we don’t get him under control, he’s bound to hurt someone.” Vickard glanced down at her bandaged arm. “How’s your hand?”

  She stretched her fingers and felt the sting of the healing wounds. “The medi-bed helped.”

  He nodded. “Good. I saw it when it first happened. Your skin was blistered and twisted. It looked pretty bad.”

  Kennedy knew where the general was going with this. “It happened right after Fang died. Phoenix wasn’t trying to hurt me. He just didn’t know how to deal with the transfer of energy.”

  “He still doesn’t, Miss Mitchell. He’s a loaded weapon. And if he leaves his cell, he has the capacity to hurt more people. Or possibly kill people.”

  She shook her head. “Phoenix wouldn’t risk anyone’s life.”

  General Vickard’s lips thinned. “Perhaps that’s something you should talk to him about.”

  “I will, if he ever decides to speak to me.”

  And that was a big if.

  A few moments of tense silence passed. She eyed the general and realized that Phoenix was probably giving them all hell. Their perfect machine had been ruined. Vickard and the other department heads must be freaking out.

  The general stiffly nodded. “Thank you for your help, Miss Mitchell.”

  And with that said, he disappeared down the hall. Kennedy stared after him, wondering if his concerns were valid. She shook herself. She knew Phoenix. He would never put anyone in harm’s way. If there was a reason he wanted to leave his cell, it was a legitimate one.

  The rest of the day passed quickly; the last few days it seemed time was speeding up. The mission loomed on the horizon, and she kept dragging her feet, trying to slow its impending arrival as long as possible.

  As she left Level 3, Kennedy thought about heading back to her apartment. Around this time of the day, she us
ually tried to talk to Phoenix. She wanted to mean what she said yesterday, but most of the anger had dissipated. Funny how hard it was to cling to resentment when time was running out. Even if it meant swallowing her pride, she’d keep trying. She wouldn’t have many more chances.

  Today she walked slower down the long hall leading to Phoenix’s cell. The longer she stretched this out, the more time she had to hope. It reminded her of all the times she and Ashley used to play the lotto back when she lived on Amelia Island. They would pick out numbers together, dreaming of all the things they would do with the money and how much better their lives would be. They were going to buy a replacement for Barney, the family minivan. A cleaning android to follow Lincoln around. Oh, and diamond bras, just for kicks. As crazy as it sounded, they actually talked about those bras in great length. They planned to wear sheer blouses, then parade the bras around in front of her mom’s snootier patients at the nursing home.

  Stars, that would’ve been fun.

  Most of the time they waited a few days to check their ticket. There was too much finality in checking, and once they’d lost, they couldn’t dream anymore. That’s why they drew it out, a few more days of hope.

  Just like this moment, and the way Kennedy paused between steps. It gave her a few minutes longer, a few more minutes to think this might end well. Because the alternative—not having the chance to say goodbye—grew each time Phoenix turned her away. Each time she left without speaking to him increased the possibility of it being the last.

  She took a shaky breath before pressing the button to the right of the door. Just like all the other times, her heart sped as she waited.

  “Kennedy.”

  Her name came out so softly. Great, she was now losing her mind. Imagining his voice now on top of everything else. She was going straight home to press the little button on the side of her bed so her delirious mind could have a break.

  “Kennedy? Are you there?”

  She went still. The voice again—her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He sounded hoarse, but she knew it was Phoenix. Few voices had the power to go inside her and pull at her core. His was one of them.

  “It’s me. I’m here.”

  “Is it true?”

  She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Yes…it’s true.”

  That yes lingered in the air, making her feel responsible for it. She didn’t want to be to blame for this, but in a way, she was. She didn’t put up a fight when they told her. Agreeing with the decision was all too easy. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was.

  Phoenix stayed silent. She’d bet anything he was frowning on the other side of that door. She could imagine his black eyes staring absently, the corner of his lips pulled down, erasing the dimples in his cheeks. Such a shame, too. They were great dimples.

  “Over my damned body,” he finally said aloud. “Now is not the time to be sending anyone away, much less three of Earth’s most valuable assets.”

  He made a good point. But DOE made a better one.

  “We both know why they’re doing it. The Slayers will eventually come back, and when they do, they’ll be stronger and more equipped to handle whatever we throw at them. We need an edge. Something to give us the power to protect ourselves.”

  “What happens when they come back and you’re not here?” he countered. “Did anyone think of that?”

  “They said it’ll take at the very least, a year, before any reinforcements could make the trip. We have time.”

  “You sound too bloody calm,” he said, his voice gruff. “I hate that you sound calm.”

  “I’m at peace with it,” she admitted. “After what happened…” She shook her head, not sure how to explain how she felt. As much as she didn’t want to leave, this mission gave her a purpose.

  She felt like a traitor though. They’d always taken each other’s sides. Phoenix stood up to DOE officials and put everything he believed in aside when they first met, all in order to protect her. He deserved her loyalty for life, but instead, she was disappointing him.

  “Please open the door, Phoenix. Just for a moment.”

  “I can’t, Kennedy. You know I can’t.” He sounded pained, as if he was trying to convince himself as well.

  “I hate talking to you like this.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to risk hurting you…again.”

  God, he was still blaming himself for that. Why did she have to be standing in the way when he threw off that spiral?

  “Phoenix, my arm is fine,” she swore to him. “It doesn’t even hurt that mu—”

  “It shouldn’t hurt at all.”

  She shook her head, giving up. There was no point in arguing.

  “Is that the only reason you’re keeping yourself locked away?” She stared at the keypad on the door, wishing she knew the combination. “I mean, you’re in there with Davaris. You don’t seem afraid of hurting him.”

  “Fire doesn’t hurt Davaris,” he reminded her. “Just like water doesn’t hurt you.”

  “Okay, fine, but the question still stands. Is it the only reason?”

  There was another long pause. “No.”

  “Fang?” she guessed, hoping he’d feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

  When he didn’t say anything, she took that as an answer in itself. She should’ve known. Phoenix felt responsible for everyone. He was the first keeper discovered, and it was simply who he was.

  “Phoenix, you weren’t even near her. There’s nothing you could’ve done…”

  “Fang had her weaknesses,” he said, surprising her. “She was too bloody headstrong, that was her biggest problem. She should’ve known better to go after that fleet of bots alone, but teamwork wasn’t in her vocabulary. Maybe if I had trained her better…maybe…God, I don’t know.”

  “No.” Kennedy shook her head, refusing to believe that. “There was nothing you could’ve done, do you understand me?”

  “I could’ve been a better friend. At the end, I mean.” He paused, and she heard his voice tighten. “We grew up in this place together, and she died without things being okay between us.”

  Because of her.

  She closed her eyes. Part of her didn’t want to hear this, and the other part hated herself for it. As much as she wanted Phoenix to talk to her, to feel comfortable talking to her, and as much as she wanted to be the perfect girlfriend—the kind of girlfriend who didn’t have lingering insecurities—it seemed like a mountain she would never be able to climb.

  Yeah, she could fake it. She could stand here and listen, and she could be understanding, and she could try to help Phoenix through this. It’s not that she didn’t want to, because she desperately wanted to, but…

  She didn’t like knowing she was to blame.

  God, I’m despicable.

  Kennedy put her face in her hands, ashamed. It was stupid, narcissistic, and insecure. This was supposed to be about him, and somehow she was making it about herself. But it didn’t change anything. Like it or not, that was how she felt. If it weren’t for her, Phoenix would have no reason to feel guilty. His guilt was the reason he locked himself away, refusing to speak to her. Guilt caused by her.

  Was she jealous?

  What a disturbing thought. She shook herself just imagining it. No, the way she felt had nothing to do with the bond Phoenix shared with Fang. This was something else. It was almost like Fang’s death killed part of Phoenix, a part she wished she could get back.

  She wanted to say something, but didn’t trust herself enough to believe anything that came out of her mouth would be genuine.

  So she stayed silent.

  It was the most honest form of comfort she could offer. Thankfully, Phoenix spoke before the silence became too awkward.

  “I keep thinking back to that moment on the sparring floor when Fang kicked you in the jaw,” he said. “The last thing I said was that I wanted to kill her. I actually used those words. I told my closest friend that I wanted to kill her. What kind of person does that ma
ke me, Kennedy?”

  She shrugged before remembering he couldn’t see her. “I don’t know,” she whispered, wishing she had the right words. Fang had nearly shattered her jaw that day. Hell, she wanted to kill her too—and tried to! The difference was she didn’t regret that moment. And now that she knew he did, it sort of took away from the way he defended her.

  Tears stung at her eyes, and she stared at the floor absently, feeling hollow inside. “Maybe you could speak to her…tell her how you feel,” she suggested, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “Her energy is still with you. I think she would hear your message.”

  As far as advice went, it wasn’t much, but still the best she could come up with. Alanna once claimed she could see the energy of the dead lingering after they left. She said spirits stuck around for a while until they were ready to ascend into their next journey. If that were true, it meant Fang would be able to hear Phoenix. Then again, Alanna told her a lot of strange islander stories about voodoo, witchcraft, and occult practices, all things Colton referred to as Caribbean mumbo jumbo. The three of them all hailed from islands, but their experiences growing up were vastly different, Alanna’s possibly the most out of the norm. Kennedy would like to believe what Alanna said was true though, for Phoenix’s sake.

  It seemed like an eternity had passed before either of them spoke again. She wasn’t even sure Phoenix was still there until he said, “Don’t give up on me, Kennedy.”

  Pressing her palms flat against the metal surface of the door, she tried to move closer. “Is this how we’re going to say goodbye?”

  “It’s not goodbye. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Phoenix…” A long, depleted sigh escaped. “It’s happening. Even if DOE gave me a choice, I’d still choose to leave.”

  “I refuse to believe that.” He was so obstinate.

  “We need this. You know we do.”

  “I agree we need to do something, but sending you away isn’t the answer. Listen, I’m headed out of Olympus on Friday. Just give me some time to get myself together, and then we’ll figure it out.”

  She blinked, taking that in. So Vickard was right. He was planning to leave. “Are they going to let you leave?”