Death's Echo (The Complex Book 0)

by Rachel M Raithby

  “Aqulla? Aqulla, what’s wrong?”

  Her breathing was ragged, but Jaylon could no longer tell if it was from her desire or some other emotion. Then her eyes met his. Dropping the hand he was about to touch her with, Jaylon took a deep breath and stepped back, mortified. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I—”

  “You’ve killed,” she grated, her eyes glowing silver.

  “I… I can explain.”

  “I didn’t notice it before. Death clings to you, but I thought it was from seeing it, not inflicting.” Her voice turned dreamy. “Like a shadow, it follows you like a shadow.”

  “Let me explain.”

  “No need.” Her features sharpened, teeth lengthening as she shot forward, taking his head between her hands. “The dead will tell me all I need to know.”

  Jaylon should have stopped her, but instead, he went willingly as she forced his head down, her fingers digging painfully into his temples. “Aqulla,” he gasped.

  She let him go before he had time to protest further. Eyeing her wearily, Jaylon massaged his head as she whispered, “I see now.”

  Slowly her features softened, and she looked more human than banshee. Then realization filled her face.

  “Oh God,” she said, horrified, stepping back.

  Jaylon’s stomach flipped. She knows. She knows what you did.

  “You should go. I shouldn’t have….”

  “I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

  “Just go.”

  Jaylon left in a hurry, his pace quick, but not so much that he’d attract attention. It was only when he reached his private quarters, safe from prying eyes, did he crumble. He could still taste her on his lips, but he couldn’t picture lust in her eyes, only horror. Dropping to the floor, Jaylon gripped his head as he remembered all he worked so hard every day to ignore. He’d killed. He was a killer. And now a Meta knew the one secret that could destroy his career. It didn’t matter that he trusted her. That he found her attractive. Aqulla was a banshee. Avenging the dead was in her blood.

  After the previous night, the last thing Aqulla expected was to be woken at an ungodly hour. Half asleep, she stumbled from bed, not even registering she had on no slacks. It had taken her until the early hours to finally sleep. She’d not planned on getting out of bed before lunch but apparently, someone else had other ideas.

  “All right, all right, I’m coming,” she mumbled, reaching for the door handle.

  Her mind startled awake when she saw Jaylon on the other side. He didn’t ask if he could enter. Instead, he simply slipped past her and asked her to close the door.

  Words failed her. Wrapping her arms around herself, Aqulla felt uncharacteristically vulnerable. After everything he’d done for her, she’d responded by attacking him, and the kiss… she couldn’t even think about what would happen if someone found out about that.

  “I need your help?”

  She met his gaze. “I’m not going to tell anyone about last night, Jay. Don’t worry.”

  His eyes widened a fraction, and the slightest of flushes filled it face. “That’s not what I meant. I need your help with something else. Solving murders.”

  “Murders? As in murders within the Complex?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

  Aqulla noted the lines on Jaylon’s forehead, the redness in his eyes. “Have you not been to sleep yet?”

  “No. I was called to a… a scene around one. I came straight here once I’d finished.”

  “You said murders, as in plural?”

  “Three scenes, six bodies, so far.”

  “Six?” Aqulla gasped. “How have you kept that under wraps?”

  “Sheer luck I think, but it’s not going to last, and I have no answers. I’d really love some answers when this goes public.”

  “Okay…. Well, how does this involve me?”

  “You’re a banshee, you avenge death.”

  “Banshees avenge by delivering death, whether by a scream of warning, or with our own hands, and I’m guessing you don’t want me to kill someone?”

  Jaylon fidgeted. “You said you could feel… echoes, death’s echo. Can’t you sense who killed these people? Isn’t that what you do?”

  “I, well… I guess that’s what banshees used to do before we turned to money and greed. In theory, if I get a sense of the death, I could maybe match it to the killer. But, Jay, I’ve—”

  “Jaylon.”

  “What?”

  “You called me, Jay. My name is Jaylon.”

  Aqulla’s face heated. “Oh.” She’d not even been aware she’d shortened his name. She wasn’t aware of much when he was around. Even death’s call faded into the background when he was near.

  “Will you at least view the body and see what you get?”

  Rubbing her arms, Aqulla held Jaylon’s unblinking gaze. She owed him. She knew that but could she really do what he suggested? “You realize what you are asking of me? Every day I try to avoid death, and you’re asking me to willingly walk into its arms.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  If it had been anyone else she’d have said no, or at least demanded payment for her troubles, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was “Jay,” the human who’d slipped under her defenses without notice. Who’d helped her without reason. Who’d sparked an insatiable lust within her. “Okay.”

  “I wasn’t sure how it worked so I’ve had the bodies and scene left as it was found.”

  “Jay…lon, I’ve never done this before. You do realize that, don’t you? I might be of no use. I might just go crazy and kill people.”

  “Let’s just get there before residents start waking, and if you can’t tell me anything, then it doesn’t matter.”

  “And if I go crazy?”

  “You won’t.”

  “You’re putting a lot of faith in somebody you hardly know.”

  “I know enough.”

  Nodding, Aqulla looked down at her body, “I… best get dressed first.”

  Jaylon looked at her, really looked for the first time since he’d entered. There, in his eyes, was the passion he’d shown her the night before. She’d been starting to think their kiss had been her imagination.

  Dragging his gaze away, Jaylon moved for the door. “I’ll be outside.”

  It didn’t take her long to dress. It wasn’t like she could agonize over what to wear. Following Jaylon, her mind wandered, remembering the way his lips had touched hers, soft, hesitant, until she’d showed him her hunger and he’d matched her own. A shiver rolled down her spine, and it took her a second to realize Jaylon was looking at her, expectancy on his face.

  “Sorry, did you say something?” she asked.

  “I’ve been talking for a while. You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?”

  “No,” she answered sheepishly.

  “Where’s your head at, Aqulla?”

  Your body, she thought, but answered, “Back in bed.”

  “Not a morning person?”

  “Not when I’m tossing and turning all night.”

  “Oh.”

  His features closed down as she referenced the night before. Aqulla felt a pang in her chest. She’d expected to see more of the “Jay” she’d kissed. After all, he’d actually started it, but it seemed he wanted nothing but professionalism.

  “So… these victims, Human or Meta?”

  “Meta, but there doesn’t seem to be an MO. The victims seem to be chosen at random.”

  He turned a corner, and she followed. At the next, it hit her like a kick to the gut. Halting, Aqulla reached for the wall as she tried to get a handle on her sudden rapid breaths.

  “Aqulla? Aqulla?” His hands were on her, his voice soft and gentle.

  “Oh God, I can feel it. It’s so fresh, so loud,” she gasped.

  “This was a mistake. Let’s head back.” Concern marred his features.

  “No,” she rasped. “Give me a moment. I’ve never, never felt death
so new, and from the victim, not the killer.” Being inside the Complex had made her more determined to function normally, sprung from a yearning to prove herself, and more than that, she wanted to prove Jaylon’s faith in her true.

  He absently rubbed circles on her back, stopping only when she straightened. “What did you feel?”

  “No specifics. It’s hard to explain. It’s like nausea rolling through me, like the air suddenly became heavy, weighing me down. I’ll need to get closer to give you details, I think.”

  “Only if you’re sure?”

  “Might as well see if I can put my curse to good use.” Taking a deep breath, Aqulla steeled herself against what was about to come and continued toward the room.

  Ready for it, she managed to block the nausea and focused on what the dead told her. Both victims had died violently. They called for vengeance, their screams, and pain wrapping around her. But when Aqulla took in the murder scene, it made her pause.

  “This room doesn’t match up,” she said quietly.

  “What do you mean?” Jaylon asked, pausing at her side.

  “It looks like a murder-suicide, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, like the two previous scenes.”

  “What do you think of that?”

  “It doesn’t fit the victim’s personality. Both of these men were killers, so why would one feel remorse for killing and commit suicide? Yet the scene doesn’t seem staged.”

  “It’s not. He killed himself… yet he didn’t.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I’m not sure. The echoes, they’re like nothing I’ve ever felt before. They almost taste the same, tainted somehow. This whole room feels… wrong.” Aqulla shivered, dread spreading through her. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and rolled down her face. The echoes were overwhelming her. Pressure built in her head. Fisting her hands, she focused on shutting out the dead, and failed. Chest growing tight, her body felt as if it might explode. A scream tore from her chest, violent, eerie. Then there was nothing but darkness.

  Her knees gave out as her piercing call erupted. Hands spreading out on the floor, sharp claws burst from her fingertips, and her head tipped back, eyes the brightest he’d seen them. Even her hair glowed. She was terrifyingly beautiful, otherworldly. He should have feared her. He should have run. Instead, he scooped her into his arms, even as blood began to drip from his ears. Her eyes connected with his, and he couldn’t understand how he’d once mistaken her for weak. There was nothing but strength. It was a mistake to have brought her. He’d not understood before, could have never grasped the magnitude of pain she endured, not until he’d seen it. It was written all over her. She was death incarnate, and as her eyes widened, and her cry died, he could read in the last lingering grips of the echo what she’d seen. Fear clouded her gaze, utter hopelessness.

  Death was here, and it wanted them all.

  Jaylon ran through the Complex’s maze of corridors, ignoring anyone in his path. Metas and Humans alike had been awoken by her scream. It had seemed to reach every corner of the mass dome. Soon the Complex’s occupants would discover the bodies, soon the murders would pass from person to person, whispering through the walls until fear and speculation lived in them all. Yet none of it mattered to Jaylon. Aqulla was limp in his arms, her body lifeless, her breaths shallow. His heart pounded against his ribcage while his blood carried the chill of dread.

  “Be okay, Aqulla. Please be okay.”

  She needed to warn him, but an unknown presence weighed her down, making it hard to breathe, and near impossible to open her eyes. Prying them open for only the briefest of seconds, Jaylon’s face was above hers. Blood marked him, coming from his ear and finishing at his jaw. She tried to speak, tried to move, but her body wouldn’t comply. The most she managed was to flop her head to the side, nestling it against Jaylon’s chest. She was in his arms. He held her protectively, and she didn’t even have the energy to appreciate that fact.

  When she woke next, it felt like waking from a deep sleep, the kind of sleep that wanted to keep you a while longer, and shaking it from your groggy mind took effort. She was no longer in the room filled with death or her own quarters. Turning her head, Aqulla took in the drawn curtains and the faint disinfectant scent in the air, then came Jaylon. He was on the chair next to the bed, his head tipped back against the wall, his eyes closed in sleep. With his legs stretched out, feet crossed, and arms folded, she could have watched him forever, but the second her blanket rustled, his eyes opened.

  He didn’t say anything at first, only stared at her, his position unchanged.

  “Are you back?” he finally whispered.

  “Back from where?” Aqulla asked.

  Her answer had him sitting up. “I was worried. If anything had happened, I thought…. Well, it would have been my fault. I shouldn’t have taken you there.”

  “You’re babbling, Jay.”

  He closed his mouth, his teeth snapping together.

  “I’m fine. You’re the one who was bleeding.”

  His finger came to his ear. “It felt like my head was going to explode.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Like I could sleep for days.”

  “You’ve already done that.” He smiled.

  “What?” Aqulla shot up, her blanket pooling in her lap. “I need to see the bodies, right now.”

  “Wow, slow down. You are not going anywhere until a doctor gives you the all-clear, and you’re definitely not seeing the bodies.”

  “I’m fine.” She slipped out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor.

  “Even so, you are not getting near any bodies. I’m not risking it.”

  “That’s not your decision,” she said firmly, reaching for the curtain.

  He rushed past her, blocking her exit and took hold of her shoulder as she tried to get around him. “Aqulla, stop.”

  “You don’t understand. You don’t know what I saw.”

  “I do. You told me.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes, it didn’t make much sense, but I got the gist of your ramblings. Death’s coming, for us all.”

  “Then you understand why I need to figure out what’s happening.” But it was more than that. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a direction. She felt like her gifts, however strong and crushing, might actually be able to do some good.

  He stared at her for what seemed like forever before eventually sighing. “All right.”

  “Good. Come on then.”

  His grip tightened. “Wait. Don’t you, erm… need to put on some clothes first?”

  Her head snapped down. “Where are my clothes?” she gasped.

  “The nurse took them off. You’ve been in bed for days, and they were soaked with sweat.”

  “Right.”

  Suddenly Aqulla was very aware of Jaylon’s proximity and the amount of skin that was just inches from him. She had on only a cotton sports bra and pants. Her skin prickled, flushing with heat. Glancing up, Aqulla knew Jaylon was also very much aware of her bare skin. He’d not let her go. In fact, he held her tighter. It would only take a step, one small, tiny step and she’d be pressed up against him. She’d be able to feel the hard expanse of his chest and the rise and fall of his breath. Her eyes raised to his lips, remembering how it felt to be kissed by him. Biting her lip in anticipation, their gazes locked.

  “We can’t,” he whispered as his eyes screamed, ‘I want you.’

  “We can.” She reached up on her tiptoes, his mouth centimeters from hers.

  “But my echo,” he breathed.

  “I wasn’t expecting it before. I’ll be fine this time.”

  He shook his head, even as his fingers flexed, bringing her body flat to his, but still he didn’t close the last millimeters between their lips. “It’s the horror on your face I can’t take when you relive what I did.”

  Aqulla frowned, coming down flat on her feet. Jaylon le
t her go when she stepped back. “What do you mean?”

  “Your face, it’s haunted me since the night we kissed. The look of horror you gave me after seeing what I did.”

  “You think I was horrified from your echo? But why?” She paused. “You see it as murder, don’t you?”

  “That’s what it was. I murdered him.”

  “No, Jaylon. You put him out of his misery. He was already going to die. The only thing you could do for him was make it quick and not drawn out.”

  He was quiet for a minute. “Then why did you look that way?”

  “I was appalled at what I’d done. I lost control and delved into your head to get a true reading of what happened. Do you want to know why I had to do that, why I couldn’t just read it from simple contact or closeness? Why I hadn’t sensed it on you until that moment? It’s because he didn’t blame you for his death. Echoes are left by their victims’ cry for help and justice. Sure, death marks you, but murdering someone, it leaves a wound so deep it will never heal.”

  She couldn’t read all of the emotions swimming in his eyes: relief, pain, sadness.

  “Do you hear me, Jay? You were in an impossible position. Captured, days away from help, if any came at all. Your partner, your friend, he was going to die. He knew it, you knew it. He was happy to go on his terms and not theirs. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He reached out, gaze softening, yet still, his past haunted him and Aqulla wondered if he’d ever forgive himself. “You can read that much?”

  “Only because I crossed a line and reached into your mind for the memory, the echo. I shouldn’t have. It was wrong.”