by Anna Carven
As he saw Kai approaching, his eyes widened.
Help, he mouthed.
His two attackers advanced. They looked like low-level street hustlers, the kind of guys who might be into shabu dealing or pimping. Kai didn’t recognize them as Urubora members.
“I told you not to fuck with us, kid,” the guy holding the bolt-jack snarled. “You think you can disrespect us?” He activated the charge, the weapon rippling with static.
“There ain’t no disrespecting going on when there’s nothing to respect in the first place, you fat old bastard!”
“You little piece of…” The thug thrust the bolt-jack into the kid’s side, sending him to his knees with a howl of pain.
Kai moved forward on silent feet and reached the man’s side, pressing his gun to the back of his head. “What are you doing?”
“What the hell?” He started to move, but Kai pressed the tip of the gun into his head.
“I didn’t say you could turn around,” he said softly. Kai allowed some of the morning’s pent-up anger to bleed into his voice. The events of last night had left him irritable and short-tempered, with little tolerance for stupidity.
Everything was spiraling out of control, and Kai couldn’t stand that.
He needed to be in control.
And the Central Ward was his clan’s territory. How dare these cheap bastards try and carry out their business in this place? And just outside the Tower, no less.
Kai pushed the gun further into the man’s skull, making him gasp in pain. “I asked you a question, asshole. Don’t make me ask you a third time.”
“Kid took our fuckin’ money,” the thug snarled. The kid shook his head as the man glared at him, silently mouthing the word ‘no’, followed by something that looked like cursing. Kai was no lip-reader, and he didn’t really care what the fuss was all about.
“What makes you think you can conduct your business here? Unless you’re new to Darkside, you should know very well exactly whose turf you’re on.”
The kid and the thug’s partner were both staring at Kai, their eyes wide. They made no attempt to move. They had no chance against a bolt-gun.
“Just want my money,” the man replied in a subdued tone. “Just want to set this thieving little bastard straight. Give him the beating he deserves.”
“With that thing?” Kai looked at the bolt-jack with disgust. A weapon with no purpose other than to inflict pain was a coward’s tool. “Two grown men against a child?”
“I’m not a child,” the boy protested.
“Shut up, kid.” Kai was going to have to teach this kid a thing or two about common sense and not shooting one’s mouth off in precarious situations. He turned to the man’s companion. “Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on, or is your buddy about to have his brain cooked by ten-thousand volts? Your choice.” He slipped into Eskulin, the guttural language of the streets. “You people should know better than to conduct your business around here.”
The man Kai was threatening stood absolutely still, not daring to make a move. His companion ran a hand through his greasy hair, letting out a deep sigh. “I am sorry, big brother. We strayed. We went too far. But the kid’s faster than he looks. Now if you’ll just let us be on our way, we’ll quietly head back to the Dust Alleys and we’ll take this little brat with us.” He bowed deeply, in the way Syndicate etiquette demanded. Someone had been observant. “We meant no disrespect, Master.”
Was it just Kai’s imagination, or did he detect a hint of sarcasm in that last statement?
He studied the man, noting his sunken eyes, the dull gold chain around his neck, and the faded quicksuit he wore, its once shiny fabric now tattered and stained.
He’d fit right in amongst the narrow, winding streets of the Dust Alleys.
The Dust Alleys were the on the outermost edges of Darkside. They were a scattering of windswept slums where even the most basic necessities, such as water and electricity, were scarce.
Kai knew all too well what the Dust Alleys were like. He’d grown up there.
They’d chased the kid all the way from the Dust Alleys to the Tower?
Something didn’t add up.
The kid was smart, trying to escape into the relative safety of the Central Ward. But why would a couple of low-level thugs knowingly chase him into one of the most heavily patrolled territories in Darkside?
Were they incredibly stupid, or incredibly brave?
“Get out of here,” Kai growled, as he kicked the man in the small of his back, sending him tumbling to the ground, the bolt-jack dropping out of his hand. It clattered across the hard surface. The man gasped in pain as he put out his hands to break his fall.
Kai didn’t have time for this shit right now. He should have just passed them over to begin with, but he couldn’t overlook a transgression in the heart of Urubora territory. That was just the way he was.
Details mattered.
Boundaries mattered.
If you gave these guys an inch, they’d soon be setting up shop on the outskirts of the clan’s territory, thinking they could do as they pleased.
The two men and the kid were staring at him with blank eyes, as if they expected him to do something.
His temper flared. “Leave,” he snarled. “Or I’ll leave you to the Enforcers. You’re lucky you ran into me first. I’m trained to have self-control. They aren’t.”
The thugs nodded and began to shuffle away, watching Kai with wary expressions. The kid hesitated. “You, stay,” he snapped.
The kid stared at him with wide eyes. He was a teenager, probably no older than sixteen. His dark face was streaked with dust, and wild curls of black hair emerged from underneath his hoodie, giving him a slightly feral appearance.
The two men glared at the kid as they made their way down the alley, but they made no effort to threaten him, acutely aware of the fact that Kai’s bolt-gun was still trained on them.
As Kai turned, watching them leave, he became aware of footsteps behind him. He whirled and found the kid creeping up on him, a shiny object in his hand.
He pointed his gun at the kid’s head, just as the kid fumbled with his object, activating it. There was a flash, and Kai felt a stinging sensation in his neck. He raised his free hand, touching the area at the base of his neck. There was something there. A small, metallic object. He pulled it away with a grimace, dropping it into his pocket. He didn’t have time to study it now. The kid was looking over his shoulder for an escape route.
“What did you do to me?” Kai didn’t waste any time, closing the distance between them. He raised his gun and grabbed the kid by his sweater, twisting the fabric tightly. The kid’s breath came in deep gasps as he stared at Kai with wide eyes. “I- I don’t fuckin’ know,” he stuttered. “They just told me to shoot this thing at you. I don’t even know what it is. I don’t even know who you are, man.”
Whatever the device was, it wasn’t affecting Kai in any way. That ruled out fast-acting poison.
No time to think about that now. He had to get out of here. The offending object was in his pocket, and he would have it analyzed later.
“Come with me,” Kai said, gesturing towards the Vortex.
“I’m sorry, man, I had no choice.”
“You truly have no choice now, kid. Get in the car.”
The kid looked at Kai again and made a quick decision. He began to shuffle towards the Vortex with a look of mild terror on his face.
Absently, Kai touched his neck. He cursed himself for being careless. He should have known that no self-respecting lowlife would dare venture into the Central Ward without a good reason. The whole thing stank of a set-up.
To what end?
He would find out in time, but he couldn’t afford to sit back and wait for the answers to come to him.
“Get in the trunk.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
Kai raised an eyebrow, waving his bolt-gun. The kid needed to be taught some proper etiquette.
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“Okay, okay,” he grumbled, as Kai popped the trunk with a sharp verbal command. Kai nodded his head, but the kid hesitated.
He was about to open his mouth to protest, but Kai pointed the gun in his face and shook his head. “You’re coming with me. Don’t make me knock you out.”
The kid dropped to his knees. “Please don’t kill me,” he pleaded. “You don’t understand, man. I really had no fuckin’ choice.” His voice wavered, all of his earlier cockiness gone.
Kai waved the tip of his gun. “Inside.”
The kid swallowed and obeyed, folding his long limbs into the trunk. It was a tight, uncomfortable fit, but there was no way Kai was letting him ride in the car when flying the thing demanded precision and concentration.
He uttered a command and the trunk slid closed, the kid disappearing from sight.
Kai activated the link embedded in his left arm, using his newly modified bio-sig. Only those closest to him had been given access to the new bio-sig. “Banri.”
“Yeah, boss?”
“I need you to capture two men for me. Late thirties, early forties, one blond, the other bald, both wearing quicksuits and chains. Low-level hustler types. They’re running through the Central Ward, probably heading for the Dust Alleys. I’ll send you an image. I want you to bring them to me.”
“Armed?”
“They’re not packing anything you can’t handle.”
“This got something to do with the Glory Strip incident?”
“Maybe. Just bring them to me. I want them captured alive at all costs.”
“Got it. Oh, and Kai?”
“Yeah?”
“That Kordolian’s back. You know, the medic. She turned up with a crew of Kordolian muscle. Says she needs to talk to you. Should I send her away?”
“No.” He said it without thinking, the swiftness of his response surprising him. “Let her stay. I’ll be back shortly. Besides, I don’t want to antagonize the Kordolians. We don’t really know what they’re capable of, and I can’t afford any more trouble right now.”
He didn’t mention his desire to see Zyara again, even if it was just for a moment.
While everything fell apart around him, he could still savor being in the presence of a woman who made him wish he was a different person. If only they were in a different time and place.
She didn’t know it, but back then when Kai had offered her a favor, he’d been willing to do anything.
If she so wished, he would give her the world.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kainan’s compound, or fortress, or whatever it was, was something else. It reminded her of the lavish enclaves preferred by the Noble Houses of Kythia, except that this place was filled with greenery where Kordolian dwellings were stark, cold, and barren.
“Master Kainan is on his way. Please, follow me.” Banri stood with his hands behind his back, his dark suit straining at the shoulders. His black hair was slicked back from his forehead, and it glistened in the harsh sunlight. Like Kai, he was dressed impeccably, with not a hair or thread out of place.
But Zyara caught a trace of something snaking up the side of his neck. It was a dark mark, hinting at an elaborate pattern underneath.
Were Humans also into the habit of permanently staining their skin?
She’d come across some alien races who were into the practice, but she’d never seen a Human with tattoos.
Absently, she wondered if Kai had any tattoos. For some reason, she wanted him to have tattoos.
She was becoming rather attached to her exotic, beautiful Human, and he hadn’t even arrived yet.
Zyara shook her head, surprised at the direction of her thoughts.
Beside her, Rykal raised his eyebrows, watching the large Human with barely concealed curiosity. Banri returned his stare with a challenging look of his own, as if sizing him up. If the Human was intimidated by the three warriors accompanying Zyara, he didn’t show it.
They followed him silently down a long walkway lined with strange trees. The swaying trees had thin, golden trunks and small blade-like leaves that fluttered in the breeze.
Rykal, Kalan, and Nythian flanked her as if she were Kythian royalty, observing everything around them from behind their dark lenses as they walked silently alongside her.
They passed a serene waterway where cool, clear water trickled over flat grey stones.
Zyara had to hand it to the Humans. They knew how to appreciate beauty, and on Earth, beauty could be found in the most unexpected of places.
It could even be found here, in a stronghold disguised as a palace.
They crossed a small bridge, passing over a pond stocked with brilliantly colored fish. Banri led them into another wing of the complex, where silent watchers observed them from the shadows.
Not that Zyara or her entourage were in any way fazed.
“So, this guy you’re waiting for, he’s some sort of big-shot in the Human world?” Rykal’s question was directed at Zyara, but it was Banri who answered.
“Master Kainan is the Sandama of our organization, and the Boss of the North Ward. So in our world, he is indeed what one might call a ‘big-shot’. If you wish to do business in Darkside, Kordolian, he is a good person to have on your side.” Banri shot the warriors a sidelong glance, carefully concealing his thoughts behind an inscrutable expression.
Zyara thought she heard Kalan mutter something like ‘crazy Humans’ under his breath.
Perhaps she was the crazy one, coming all the way out here to search for an almost unobtainable medicine.
But when she’d seen the feral, luminous eyes of the twins, their precious Humanity slipping away with every waking moment as the virus consumed them, she’d had to try something, anything.
Zyara told herself that was the main reason she was here.
But she was honest enough with herself to admit that she was intrigued by this side of Earth. Darkside was mysterious, layered, and seductive, much like its people.
Much like Kainan.
Zyara was tasting freedom for the first time, and it made her want to delve deeper into the world these Humans had built.
They fascinated her.
“Please make yourselves comfortable.” Banri led them into a darkened room. Deep, luxurious sofas were placed in the center, and the walls were adorned with tasteful Human artwork.
Rykal, Kalan, and Nythian sat down with half-amused expressions as Banri slipped out of the room, his movements silent and graceful despite his big frame.
“You sure these people can deliver what you need?” Rykal narrowed his eyes, studying their plush surroundings.
“I don’t know,” Zyara answered cautiously. “But what harm is there in asking? It’s not as if they’re a threat to us.”
Kalan snorted. “They are impeccably dressed, impossibly polite, and armed to the teeth. They watch us like Pangarian bloodcrows, even though they try to hide it behind a refined veneer.”
“But we are not the prey,” Nythian said dryly, raising an eyebrow. “If they understand anything about us, they should know that.”
Inwardly, Zyara rolled her eyes. It was typical male talk, although these three possessed the muscle to back it up. Underneath their dark Kordolian robes, the three warriors concealed enough weaponry to outfit a small mercenary group. Human speed, reflexes, and guns were no match for what the Kordolians were packing.
There was something about being followed around by one’s own personal guard that was both reassuring and stifling. Zyara sat back in her chair and removed her dark glasses and the wide hat she’d borrowed from Sera. Earth’s deserts were harsh and unforgiving to a light-sensitive species like the Kordolians.
As if on cue, a robot appeared with a tray laden with tall glasses of iced water.
How perfectly considerate. Zyara gratefully accepted a glass as the three Kordolian warriors turned their heads, their attention diverted.
The doors slid open to reveal Kainan. He nodded towards the warriors, but his eye
s were on Zyara in an instant.
She froze, the glass threatening to slip from her fingers.
He was as sharp as a blade and as cool as the drink she held in her hand. He consumed her with his gaze, his dark eyes missing nothing as she returned his stare.
He was Human perfection, and he made no effort to conceal his interest in her.
“Welcome back,” he said, his deep voice coiling its tendrils around her as she drank in his delicious appearance. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was a study in monochrome, his black jacket providing an austere contrast to the crisp whiteness of his undershirt. He walked into the room with long, silent strides. His movements spoke of carefully restrained power.
Zyara could deny it no longer. She was attracted to this man.
She didn’t know whether he was a villain or a noble sort, but she suspected he was somewhere in-between.
She wanted to find out for certain. She wanted to know what secrets lay beneath his cool, composed exterior.
“So, Zyara. How may I be of service? I’m assuming you’re not just here to say hello, although that would also please me.” His lips quirked upwards in a suggestion of a smile.
The three First Division warriors were watching Zyara carefully. She fought to keep her expression neutral, even though her heart was hammering and a strange tension had filled her chest.
“You will not speak like that to our medic, Human,” Kalan growled, his fingers twitching as if he were somehow tempted to reach for a weapon.
“You misinterpret my intentions, Kordolian,” Kai retorted, walking across to a glass cabinet. He retrieved a bottle of amber liquid and a low glass. As he poured himself a drink, he shared an intimate glance with Zyara, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only ones in the room. He didn’t offer anything to the Kordolians. “I don’t tolerate disrespect in my house, and I have nothing but the highest regard for Zyara.” Glass in hand, he walked across sat down in a high-backed chair. “Now, I understand she has some business to discuss with me, so I will ask that you grant us a private moment.”
