Search (SEEK Book 1)

by Candie Leigh Campbell

  His right hand feeds the line for me as I concentrate on landing the feathery-fly gently on the water’s surface.

  “Cool!” I turn my face up excitedly, expecting to see his friendly smile. Instead, my head fills with molasses, as bright neon-green eyes peer back at me from under a mess of curly bangs.

  Eyes just as green, just as radio-active, as mine.

  Seeing Green

  Finding eyes that are the same freaky color as mine on the target I’ve been sent to bring to SEEK can’t be a coincidence. I know it the second his cheeky smile turns to shock. A wave of confusion chokes off my words.

  “Who are you?” he demands, releasing my hand like I’ve burned him.

  A million questions buzz in my head. Is this why Ops chose me? Did Solomon do this to me on purpose so I could come get this guy? There wasn’t anything in my packet about eye color, was there?

  Say something. He’s staring at me and I’m blowing it.

  “A-Ashley… Ashley Mon-roe,” I sputter, biting the inside of my cheek.

  His eyes narrow into two piercing slits. “Did Matheson send you? What’s your call?”

  Mouth hanging open, I stand frozen and clueless, as his whole demeanor transforms from jovial and gregarious to suspicious and resentful.

  “Who the hell are you?” he growls, reaching behind his back.

  I don’t know who the heck Matheson is, but it doesn’t matter because he’s figured everything out and now he’s going to shoot me—right here in the middle of the woods where no one will ever find me.

  “My call?” I stall, breathing heavily. His hand comes forward as I crouch. Trained for hand-to-weapon combat, I’m ready to grab the barrel of a pistol.

  But it’s only a cell phone. A shaky breath whooshes from my lips.

  “Your call. I want to look you up. There’s not supposed to be any more of us in the area so obviously you’re here to bring me back. I told Commander Matheson I was out. That I didn’t want to…anymore…and he thinks…”

  He’s muttering at me as if I’m this Matheson person.

  Then, like a minute-hand clicking along the face of a clock, a shiver of adrenaline ticks down my spine and the connection snaps into place. It’s the neon-green eyes, eyes exactly the same as his.

  He thinks I’m a Handler!

  Oh, God. He’s calling the Brotherhood. Do something. Throw a punch at him, throw a rock at him, do anything!

  “You want my phone number?” I ask in a pathetic squeak of a voice.

  He looks up from his Android, a deep crease ebbing away from widening eyes and rippling across his forehead.

  Get out of here, I think, leaning away and squeezing the fishing pole like a sword in my tingling hand. But just as I arch up on the balls of my feet, ready to swing at his head, his arm drops to his side, phone dangling loosely from his fingers. I swallow and stay rooted to the spot as though some invisible lasso is holding me back. My need to understand why my eyes are the same color as his trumps my instinct to fight.

  “You expect me to believe that you just happened along?” he demands, throwing an arm in the air.

  I don’t know what to think. It’s like he’s gone soft again. He flings the cap off of his head and tosses it toward the beach. It sails like a Frisbee through the wind. Then he runs his hand through a thick tuft of curly bangs, his forehead three shades paler than the rest of him. He looks at me like I’m the crazy one.

  “You’re a little weird. I’m gonna go. Thanks for the um…yeah. Later.” The words tumble out as the pole slips from my hand, clattering reel-end first between the rocks. I leap from boulder to boulder out of his reach and flee, leaving him gaping after me.

  “Wait!” he shouts too late.

  I’m halfway up the hill. But I turn wearily, yanking on a corner of my t-shirt, and face him silently. He’s pacing back and forth across the length of the slippery boulders. It’s a wonder he doesn’t fall because he’s not paying any attention to his footing. He’s just watching me, as though I’m going to sprout wings and fly away.

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re on or what your problem is, but I was just out for a jog. I appreciate the lesson in casting, but I don’t really like being yelled at by strangers.”

  “You really don’t know?” he asks quietly, neon eyes peering at me with concern.

  “You’re freaking me out. I really gotta go.” My knees wobble as I hurl myself into the trail, jogging unsteadily upward.

  “Ashley! Wait.” He bounds up the path behind me.

  Oh, crap. I’ve been in some compromising situations before, but being chased through unfamiliar territory is not my idea of a good time. If I continue up there’s the cliff, if I go down I’m stuck in the basin—unless I swim.

  Run or fight? Run or fight? Fight. Always fight!

  I whirl, one hand up to keep him away and other locked and loaded, ready to break his jaw. “Stay away from me, weirdo. I’m warning you. I know self-defense.”

  Minor understatement.

  His eyes grow round as marbles and, hands up, he ducks. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.” He peeks between his forearms, anticipating my blow.

  I wait, unflinching.

  “How long have your eyes been that particular shade of green? Probably not long if you really don’t know, or you wouldn’t be alive. And you shouldn’t be running.”

  He could’ve said anything else and I would’ve taken his head off, but that…? I don’t know what to do with that. “What are you talking about?” I ask, my accent forgotten. A bead of sweat falls from my forehead, landing on my arm. I tense my fist warningly.

  He eyes me cautiously as he drops his arms, straightening up to his full height. He grabs his sleeve, wiping his face and then coughs. Waiting.

  What is he waiting for? “You have two minutes to explain. Go.”

  “You’re from SEEK aren’t you? Recently had an encounter with the Khayal? Am I right? I am right.” He nods.

  He’s irritating. “One minute twenty-six, twenty-five…”

  “All right,” he shrugs. “You’ve been bitten by a Khayal and unless you bond soon…” He glances at his watch—the kind that doesn’t look expensive but probably is—perspiration glistening on his lightly tanned wrist. “…you’ll be dead by this time tomorrow.”

  “What are you talking about? That doesn’t make any sense.” The fight draining from my arms, they fold across my chest. A new kind of annoyance festers and I tap a toe.

  “Your life.” He shrugs, strolling back toward the basin. And just like that he fishes his pole out of the rock bed and casts, water dripping from the line.

  Flustered, I gape awkward and dry-mouthed from the hill. I should flee, but I don’t because of the most irritating thought echoing in my head: What if he’s telling the truth? I whirl around, newly-added copper streaks matching my temper as my hair floats past my face.

  Jonathan casts without hesitation, looking like he should be on the cover of Field and Stream.

  Dang it! I bite my lip, wrestling with my own stupid indecision. Should I stay or go?

  The problem is, whatever Mr. Jonathan Steed knows is of great consequence to SEEK. And, whatever he knows, Episteme doesn’t want SEEK to know, otherwise no one would give a damn and I wouldn’t be here. I can’t pinpoint exactly why I care so much, but all I know is I can’t leave empty-handed. Lindy and I both need this. And that means I need him.

  Maybe he could still be persuaded if I pour on the charm.

  “Why should I listen to you?” I ask in a small voice.

  His back slumps slightly forward. “Because you’re smart and the part of you that SEEK hasn’t blinded yet is telling you to trust me,” he says, then drops his pole and marches straight at me.

  Taking consolation in the fact that I’m positive I can take him, I hold my ground, chin poised in the air. “Who says I’m smart? If I was smart, I wouldn’t be here.”

  His luminous eyes focus intently, grazing over each fract
ion of my face. I withdraw ever-so-slightly, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  “Look, they’re lying to you. I’m not your enemy, and they’re not your friends. We’re on the same side you and me. We both want the corruption to stop, and we want to save humanity. SEEK—along with Kistall—is behind the fall, not the uprising.”

  Obnoxious laughter bursts from my lips. “SEEK is trying to save people and this country—it’s Episteme that’s killing everyone, using the Khayal to spy on our government.”

  “Look, Agent…?” he says, cocking his head to one side, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

  “I’m not telling you my name.” I cross my arms.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you mine.” But a sudden understanding glints in his eyes. “Oh, you’ve been sent here for me.”

  Burning heat smolders across my cheeks. I bite my bottom lip and stare at the ground.

  He steps quietly forward. Waiting.

  I glance up, the expression on his face stoic and unreadable.

  “I assume you’re here to kill me. Are you going to do it bare-handed? Doesn’t look like you have a weapon,” he says, eyeing my running shorts suspiciously.

  Every time he opens his mouth he says something I’m not prepared for. Well, two can play that game. “Tell me, Jonathan Steed, what’re you doing out here in the backwoods of Kentucky when the two most dangerous organizations in the world are looking for you?”

  He laughs heartily, as though my question is absurd. “I’m on vacation.”

  He’s done it to me again: said something so off the wall I can’t anticipate his next move. He is a spy I remind myself. He’s trained to throw me off guard. I need a better approach. “Vacation? Since when does the Brotherhood take vacations?” I ask, forcing my voice to stay light.

  “Didn’t they tell you?” He leans in so close I get a whiff of his minty toothpaste. “I’m not with the Brotherhood, anymore. That’s why everyone’s worried. I’m a threat and they’re scared.” Then his glorious face tips up toward the sun. “I came here to meet my parents. Say goodbye. It was only a matter of time before one of you found me.”

  The strangest urge to comfort him, to make the sorrow disappear from his lovely eyes, catches me off guard. “I’m not going to kill you,” I confess. There’s no use pretending I could do it, even if I wanted to.

  “Don’t have what it takes to kill an unarmed man?”

  “Not really,” I admit.

  “Huh? Maybe there’s still hope for humanity."

  “I’m not going to kill you, because I need to take you with me.”

  “Is that right? Are you going to hunt me through the forest?” He grins like he’d enjoy that.

  “If I have to, but why don’t you make it easy and surrender?”

  He’s too close again, analyzing me. His teeth are too-white and distracting me. My shoes slip in the loose gravel. Pebbles trickle down the hill, the only sound apart from my hammering heart.

  “Alright. Since you asked nicely, I give up.” He flashes that mind-numbing fluorescent smile and holds out his hands in mock defeat.

  I take a steadying breath. He’s trying to push my buttons and he’s succeeding. “I don’t have rip-ties!”

  His arms fall limply at his sides. “Hmmm…that is a problem. Tell you what, I’ll go quietly. There’s just one condition. Tell me your name.”

  Surrender

  I’m mortified. Everything is backwards. I’m supposed to be giving Jonathan conditions, not the other way around. I’m the agent. I’m the one who’s supposed to be in charge. I need a diversion.

  I peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth and say, “Lindy,” as I look away.

  His jaw falls slack. “Jesus, that’s not your name either!”

  Jonathan’s utter disgust makes him look as though he’s just swallowed a grapefruit. I’m losing. There was a time when I found lying easy. It was only too simple to convince my family I was going off to college at sixteen on scholarship. Yet, here I am, caught red-handed in the simplest untruth.

  “Gagh, I don’t know my name anymore, okay?” I huff, dropping my face into my hands.

  “Yes, you do.”

  I peek between my fingers, looking him square in the eyes. “If I tell you, do you promise to come to SEEK with me? And all I have to do is you give you my name?”

  He takes two fingers and crosses his chest, holding them up in the air. “Scouts honor. I’ve been honest with you, be honest with me.”

  He does look honest, that twinkle of genuine frankness in his eyes relaxing his lips as the corners curve gently upward.

  “I am being honest. Lindy’s who I am now. They call me Agent Thirty-Nine or Donavan.”

  “Wait. You’re saying you’ve fooled Kistall? They don’t even know you’re not who you say you are? That’s perfect!” An impressive smirk wrinkles his face as a rumble of laughter erupts from his gut.

  I scowl. “My life is not a joke.”

  “No, no, of course it’s not. I’m just seriously impressed. You are a clever girl,” he says, laying a hand on my chilled arm.

  Every hair follicle stands erect.

  “Let’s hear it then. What is this hideous name you’ve been hiding from your employers?”

  I squirm, ringing my hands together under his gaze but remain silent, tongue too dry to speak.

  “I can’t call you Lindy. It doesn’t feel like you. And I won’t call you Donavan, because I don’t believe in your cause. Give me your name, it can’t hurt. I’m just a dead man fishing on borrowed time.”

  His golden arm shows the first tinge of pink around the edges of his t-shirt, he’ll have a farmer’s tan by morning. The river trickles softly in the background.

  “This conversation is ridiculous. Are you coming with me or what?” I bite my lips, turning away from his teasing eyes.

  “I told you, give me your name and I’ll come.” He leans in and our faces nearly touch.

  “Keira,” I profess, fighting the urge to flinch away from his closeness.

  “Keira? Yep, that fits. Intriguing and brave. Keira.”

  A shiver rushes through me, my name sounding so different coming from him, and yet awesomely familiar. Tension melts from my shoulders as though massaged away by the lilt of his words.

  “If you’re taking me in, I suggest we go while you’re still able to walk,” Jonathan cuts in, interrupting my thoughts.

  “You’re persistent with this little fantasy. I’m fine. You can quit the charade now,” I say, though the kick is gone from my voice.

  “Of course you feel fine, now,” he says. “But in a few hours, if you haven’t made a bond, you won’t be.”

  “Why do you keep saying that? I’m perfectly healthy. I’m a SEEK agent. The only thing I need to do is get you to my superiors.”

  “You’re not listening. Without Khayal intervention your soul will starve in a painfully slow, mind-shriveling death. They say you go mad.”

  I’m already mad. As if on command, the blood drains from my face and vertigo is taking over. Thoughts of Handlers and their Khayal, seven blurry days in the Boone I can’t fully recollect, and the fact that I was walking only days after a serious injury send me reeling. My eyes. His eyes. Our radio-active green eyes. The images swim in my head. I sway, knees buckling underneath me.

  Jonathan grabs my elbow, propping me under his arm and whispers, “Trust me, Keira. You’re one of us now.”

  His words slice into me like a knife to the back. Every perception of reality I have shatters into a million jagged-edged lies. “No. I can’t be.”

  “But you are. You don’t get eyes like that without a Khayal. What’d Kistall promise you, anyway? A college scholarship, job security, a medical cure?” His gaze combs my face. “Ah… that’s it. You’ve been promised a cure. Well, you’ll have it now. As soon as you bond, you’ll be good as new.”

  “Argh!” I huff, launching out of his clutches. “You keep spewing this nonsense about bonding with the Khayal. They’re lee
ches who endanger our planet. Why would I bond with them?”

  His shaggy head tips back with laughter. “No they’re not. That’s the lie.” He reaches for me.

  I glare daggers at him and cross my arms in a huff.

  “I’m sorry, but the Khayal aren’t monsters, they bit you to save you. Will you listen? Just listen?” he begs.

  I freeze, clenching my teeth tight enough to crush stone.

  “Khayal have been around for thousands of years, since before the pyramids. Ancient cultures used to worship them as gods. But when the more-modern governments realized they couldn’t control people who were under Khayal protection, they started hunting them.” In a lower voice he adds, “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. In fact, you probably think I’ll say anything just to save my own sorry ass, but that’s not it. I left the Episteme Brotherhood because I found out the truth. I’ve been lied to also, and I’m done. Keira, you’ll have perfect health again when you find your Khayal. I promise.”

  A lone hot tear trickles down my cheek. “I’m not the one who needs it,” I whisper, sounding like I’ve swallowed a mouthful of hot sand.

  Jonathan considers me for a moment, then takes my hand and saunters to a fallen log lying amidst a patch of tall grasses leaning in the breeze. He nods, patting the empty spot beside him. “I know you think we’re enemies, but we can be friends.”

  I wiggle up beside him and shrug. “I don’t know about that.”

  “I get it,” he begins, turning a knee toward me. “I didn’t believe at first either.”

  As I listen to Jonathan talk it’s like I’m somewhere high above us, watching from the treetops. He’s like a cheerful marionette, his hands lifting into the air as though jerked by invisible strings. And me, mouth hanging open, watching him like a dazed zombie.

  “…Samaria, Babylonia and Egypt were once all very powerful. And then—bam! Overnight they were each systematically destroyed,” he says, hands sweeping apart. “And do you know why?

  I shake my head.