Scorched Souls (Chosen Book 3)

by Jeff Altabef

  I sit next to him. “Basketball? I don’t see you as a basketball player.”

  He chuckles to himself. “Well, basketball was the obvious choice. Football and soccer were out. Too easy to get hurt, and basketball is played inside, so there’s less chance of getting stung by bees or mosquitos than baseball.”

  I smile at him. “Obviously.”

  “My dad coached the team. I scored a total of two points the entire season. I barely played, which was fine with me. I didn’t deserve to play.” He folds his shoulders downward. “After the season, he never asked me to play a sport again—not basketball nor baseball nor tennis. He just gave up on me.”

  The sadness on his face is so real, so palpable, that it breaks my heart. His father probably doesn’t know the harm he did to his son. He probably thought he was doing him a favor, but now Blake has to carry around that disappointment with him forever.

  “I’m sorry, Blake. He probably just didn’t understand, but you’re a badass now.” I nudge him in the side. “Just think how awesome you’d be on the hoops court after we finish this. With the telekinesis, you’d never miss.”

  “Don’t think I haven’t dreamed about playing a little one-on-one with my father. I wanted to give basketball another try after that season, but I didn’t have the courage to tell my dad. Heck, my parents talk about me being the next CEO of Richards Medical Equipment, and I’ve almost convinced myself that’s what I want. But it’s not. Medical equipment is boring. I like computer programming, but I can’t bring myself to tell him. It’s pathetic, but at least I can’t be dropped from that team. My father owns the company.”

  He looks at me sadly, tears not far from the surface. “You dragged the courage out of me. You found something inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. The fight in that abandoned industrial building was the first time I did anything remotely brave, and then again in the Boathouse in Central Park. Suddenly I was part of team, a really cool team doing something incredibly important. Then you left and it felt like that basketball team all over again. Like you didn’t think I was worth having around.”

  I grab him by the shoulders. “You’re one of the bravest people I know. You’ve saved Akari’s life twice now. We never would have survived the Boathouse without you. You are officially a total, complete, no-kidding, badass. And you are never going to be CEO of Richards Medical Equipment. I won’t allow it.”

  He grins and just like that, the storm has broken between us. “You’re damn right I’m a badass.”

  “So are we good?”

  “We’re good, but are you sure we can trust this... Aaric fellow? How do you know he’s not playing you? Once he gets his hands on this Heart Stone, he could turn on you like that.” He snaps his fingers. “And then in no time, we’re all enlisted in some slave army run by him and his friends reporting to these enhanced humans. We’ll be goose-stepping our way to Alpha to fight some crazy war we want no part of.”

  I twirl my hair and my voice wavers. “I don’t know, Blake. The only thing I know for certain is that I’m tired. Tired of all the lies. My gut tells me that he won’t turn on me. I think he’s being honest when he says he wants to partner with us. I think we can trust him. I am sure that we need to find the Heart Stone first, before the Alphians blow up the planet. After that, we can decide what to do about him. We’ll decide together.”

  He shoots me a mischievous grin. “You’re definitely not being controlled by them, right?”

  “No, I’m my usual stubborn self, uncontrollable and a little reckless.”

  “Okay then, I’ll stop looking for ways to kill him until after we find the Heart Stone. But if he takes over the world, I want a cushy job. Maybe ambassador to France or the Cayman Islands.”

  I laugh despite the seriousness of our situation. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He stands and I throw my arms around him. He’s so much more than he thinks. I wish he could see himself the way he really is, his true self, but it’s so hard to break free from the self-image we develop when we’re young.

  He sputters. “I... can’t... breathe.”

  I squeeze him harder.

  He gulps air and bends at the waist.

  I slap him on the back and release him. “Cut it out or I’ll really squeeze the life out of you.”

  He laughs. “Well, let’s go solve this mystery. We have a world to save.”

  “After you, Mr. Badass.”

  He goose-steps his way out of the bathroom, and I glance into the mirror before following him. The last time I was in this bathroom, I had blood on my hands—my grandfather’s blood, the Seeker’s blood whom I killed, and maybe even some of my own.

  I tried to wash my hands clean, but even now it feels like blood still clings to my fingers.

  Who’s blood will I have on them next?

  I think about my recurring dream about the graves, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  Juliet

  We study the hide for another hour, but no one has any new insights and it becomes obvious we’re just wasting time. We’re not going to learn anything new from examining it tonight, and everyone looks like they’re exhausted.

  We perk up when Aaric leaves the bedroom, but he walks with quick purposeful strides and barely slows as he tells me he needs some air. He says he’ll be back in the morning and everything’s fine before he marches out the front door, but he doesn’t look fine—he seems angry, and that’s probably not good.

  I assume his conversation with Jared didn’t go well.

  When he leaves, we decide on sleeping arrangements. Akari and I will share the small bedroom. Barrett, Troy, and Blake will sleep in the master bedroom, which leaves Connor the couch in the living room.

  Akari, Blake, and Troy shuffle off to bed, leaving Connor, Barrett, and me still in the living room. Connor looks half asleep on the couch. I’d love to talk to him, but his head keeps nodding downward every few seconds. He’s trying hard to stay awake, but he’s had a long couple of days, so I can’t blame him for nodding off.

  He mumbles something incomprehensible about Stuart and his romance novels, which triggers a memory. “Connor, do you still have the bag of stuff we got from Stuart’s apartment? The one with the vial that lit up when I touched it.”

  He tries to say something but only manages a grunt as he points toward his duffel.

  I rifle through it, remove the vial, and sit next to Barrett. “Do you know what this is? We found it with Stuart’s stuff. We think it was probably something the real Host owned, but since he died before we could meet him, we’re not sure what it does.”

  The vial heats in my hand, and starts to glow with a soft amber light. I get the same feeling as the first time I held it—it wants me to fuse something with it, but what?

  Barrett arches both eyebrows. “That vial is exceedingly rare. I’m surprised he brought one with him. It’s called a message keeper. We use it to impart secret messages or detailed information to others.”

  “How does it work?”

  “You shouldn’t be able to activate it. It’s calibrated only for Alphians, but you are... remarkable. When you concentrate on the vial, the light will brighten at an increasing intensity. When it reaches a pure white light, form thoughts in your mind and project them into the liquid in the vial. You should feel the thoughts leave your body as if they’ve become solid. The light will sparkle and then go out.”

  Sounds like the Fusions. “The recipient just drinks the fluid and those thoughts sink into his or her mind like facts or experiences they might have had on their own, right?”

  He nods. “Yes. It’s similar to how the Fusions worked that my father left for you, but a tad simpler. “

  I hold the vial out to him. “It’s not mine. You should have it.”

  He shakes his head. “No. I think it is important that you keep it. You will have more need of it than me.”

  A wave of melancholy flows from him that’s so real and deep I feel it in my bones.

  Why
is he so sad? “This must be difficult for you. You’ve come all this way to train us to defeat the Prime Elector, and then you discover he’s your cousin.”

  He smirks. “This was not Plan A as Blake would say, although it probably would not have mattered in the end. I believe the Creator has given each of us a soul. It is important to keep it intact no matter the difficulties of the present circumstances.”

  I grin. “You sound like my grandfather. He told me there were two types of people in the world: those who are rocks and those who are rivers. He said rocks are true to their inner selves and rivers seek the easiest paths, always changing with the landscape. He wanted me to be a rock. I’m trying, but it’s hard.”

  “I wish I could have met your grandfather. He sounds like a wise man.”

  I snort with a short burst of laughter. “I love my grandfather, but he had a wild side. He lived life on the edge, pushing limits probably further than a wise man would consider.”

  “Limits should always be pushed. How else can we advance? Besides, you seem to be a push the limits type of person yourself.”

  “Not always, but I guess I inherited that from my grandfather. I wish I also inherited his certainty. He always knew the right thing to do. He never had doubts.”

  “And you have doubts?” He stares at me with wide eyes and even tilts his head to the side a little, the way Troy does when he’s worried about me. He looks honest and genuine and trustworthy.

  I almost forget that he’s not human.

  Aaric carries an air of superiority with him wherever he goes, but Barrett appears more modest, like he considers the differences between his people and ours as superficial.

  He was sent to help us and Blake’s doubts still swirl in my mind, so I start to talk without thinking things through, which is completely normal for me. “Do you think I can trust Aaric? Will he turn on me—on us—after we find the Heart Stone?”

  He rubs the fuzz on his almost totally bald head. “What has he told you of his plans?”

  “That he wants to partner with us to bring order to the universe and help lesser creatures evolve. He says he’s a logician.”

  His face turns pensive. “Aaric is primarily governed by logic, but emotion still affects those governed by logic. Not as much as Emotionalists, but the two can never be fully divorced. I believe he’s sincere in his desire to forge a universe in which he can understand and apply logic. Of course, that universe might not benefit all the creatures who live in it.”

  “So you think he wants to partner with us and not enslave us?”

  “A fine question.” He rubs his chin. “The word partnership has many meanings. You might discover that your definition differs from his.”

  He reminds me of Sicheii. My grandfather never answered my questions plainly, and I doubt that Barrett will either. I bite my lip and try a different approach. “Tell me more about the Heart Stone. How can something so small be powerful enough to destroy an entire planet?”

  “By itself a Heart Stone has no power. It looks much like a ruby found on this planet. However, a strong Alphian mind can use it to magnify his or her power exponentially. All Heart Stones are not alike. The one placed on Earth must be almost flawless to achieve the energy necessary to vaporize the planet.”

  A chill whips through me. “And you can use it to destroy us?”

  He shakes his head. “No, not me. A number of Elders from Alpha would have to combine their efforts to provide that level of energy to the stone.”

  “What happens if Aaric possesses it? How powerful will he become?”

  He pauses for a second, as if contemplating my question for the first time. “The combined effect of his formidable energy and the Heart Stone would make him one of the most powerful beings in the universe. Much is at stake, but this is your world. I’ll help delay events so you can determine your own fate, but there’s only so much I can do. Time is not on our side and, in the end, you must determine what’s right for Earth. You’re the Alpha among the Chosen. No one can make this decision but you.”

  I sink back into the chair. “Great. What would you do with this Heart Stone if you had it?”

  “Me?” He leans back. “I would destroy it. It’s too powerful for any one person to possess.”

  Somehow I think Aaric has other ideas.

  When I slip into the small bedroom, Akari is still awake. She’s slid toward one side of the bed so I can share the other half, and I flop down next to her. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

  She sits up. “Not yet. We haven’t had time to talk much.”

  “No, I guess not. Thanks for not hating me.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “We’re family now. You’re my sister. How can I hate my sister when I always wanted one?”

  Growing up an only child, I always wanted a sibling, too. “It’s nice to have a sister.”

  “Have you thought about what happens next?” she asks.

  “You mean if we find the Heart Stone and save the world?”

  “My grandmother used to say that it made no sense to plan for what you people call... a dead end. Plan for success and deal with failure if it happens.”

  I blow some loose hair from my face. “I don’t know what happens next. I can’t see that far. There are too many variables.”

  “What about Connor?” Her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “You should know he was a real ass when you were away. He spent most of the time drunk. I almost clobbered him. He’s not as strong a person as he pretends to be.”

  I smooth out the sheets on the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I think we’re good now.”

  “Good?” She grins. “What about Aaric? It seems as if you have two kareshis—I mean suitors.”

  My face heats and my heart races. “Aaric? I’m nothing to him. He probably thinks I’m a monkey with long hair. He’s not even human.”

  “I’m not an expert on these things, but he seems more than interested to me.” She chuckles. “He’s not my type, but if you like the all-powerful, godlike, handsome guys, he might be interesting.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Your type is more the thin, curly-haired, slightly broken guy. Right?”

  Now it’s her turn to blush. “Maybe. He has potential.”

  “Yes he does.” Changing gears I think about Aaric. “There’s nothing between Aaric and me.” I say it more to convince myself than her. I really don’t know what there is, if there is something.

  We chat for a few more minutes, and if feels good to talk about silly things like Akari’s first and only boyfriend back home, or my feud with Tiffany, and our mutual love of pop music. I didn’t have many girl friends growing up, and she’s truly one of the only people who understands me. Her smile is contagious and makes me forget about saving the world for a while—but only for a little bit.

  Eventually the conversation slows and she falls asleep.

  I can’t sleep. I try to slow my thoughts and meditate, but too much energy swirls around me to settle my mind. It doesn’t help that Akari keeps muttering Japanese phrases in her sleep and flails around in the bed. I get the sense that she’s thinking about her father, which is weird. I’ve never been able to read thoughts or emotions from the other Chosen before, but I get the feeling I could do it now. It’s yet another sign that I’m evolving into something different, something stronger.

  Maybe an abomination.

  I slip away from the bed, careful not to wake Akari, and walk quietly on the balls of my feet into the living room.

  Connor is sleeping, his back pressed against the cushions on the couch. He’s so tall he can’t fully stretch out, so he’s curled at the waist.

  I shouldn’t bother him—he needs rest and it’s selfish to wake him—but I need to feel human. I need to connect, to be with him, even if we just have this one night left.

  I shimmy my way onto the couch, press my back against his chest, and enjoy his warmth.

  He stirs and loops an arm around my shoulder. “What took you so long, Blake?�
�

  I elbow him lightly in the stomach. “Blake?”

  “Oh, you’re not Blake? Oops! You had better go because Blake and I have a date.”

  “If you’d rather spoon him....” I shift my weight as if to get up.

  He grabs my shoulder and pulls me toward him. “Never. I’m never letting you go.”

  He slides his hand down my arm and under my T-shirt, touching my hip and stomach. The callouses from his fingers brush against my skin and turns my body electric, every nerve ending firing as if his hand is a torch that scorches my skin.

  “You’re hot,” he says.

  “Thanks, but for a guy who knows so much poetry, I’d think you could come up with something a little nicer to say.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Although you are a cracking unbelievable perfect ten. You feel warm, like you have a fever.”

  I turn so our faces are inches apart. “It’s nothing. I feel fine.”

  He smiles. “Prove it.”

  I lean toward him and press my lips against his. After a few moments, I pull back. “How’s that?”

  His eyes twinkle. “If I die tomorrow, I’d happily go to that light a blissful man.”

  I whisper, “No dying on me.”

  He slides his hand up my side and kisses me.

  I lose myself in him, running my hands across his chest and pressing my body against his. I forget where he starts and I end. I don’t care. I only wish this night could last forever.

  I can’t help but think, what if....

  Juliet

  I spin in a lazy circle and kick up dust from the desert outside of Sicheii’s secret sweat lodge. When I complete the turn, he steps next to me.

  He looks relaxed: his face calm, an emerald-colored linen shirt blowing in the breeze, his favorite pair of Lucky jeans on his legs, and deerskin moccasins on his feet. He strolls toward the lodge, which is really a plain oval-shaped mud and grass hut with a leather hide and wooden gate as the only door.

  My chest tightens as we approach. The last time we were here, I almost died.

  Sicheii smiles at me. “This was my father’s secret sweat lodge, and his father’s before him. Did I ever tell you the story of my first vision?” He glances at me expectedly.