Bloodlines Trilogy

by N. A. K. Baldron

  "How long have you been in Austin?" Kandice asked.

  "We only arrived last month. We were tracking one of the most powerful Aether Walkers we've ever seen. This house was for rent and had a leftover presence from it."

  "This used to be my house," Kandice regretted the words as soon they left her mouth.

  There was no reason to offer such personal information. Her guard was dropping the longer they spoke, and it scared her. He exuded comfort and safety, something she hadn't felt since her mom died.

  "When?" Lance asked.

  "We left a little while back after my mom died. My dad couldn't pay the bills."

  "How did she die?"

  "An Aether Walker killed her."

  "Did you see this happen?"

  Kandice didn't want to talk about it with anyone, much less a stranger.

  "I'm not prying, just bear with me," he paused for the span of two breaths. "My father died in front of me. That's the first one I saw."

  "That's what happened with me. It attacked her, and I saw the Aether Walker inside the man who killed her."

  "Aether Walkers aren't inside humans. They just look that way on the outside. Slava says we're able to see the dimension that exists beside us, and that's where they come from."

  "How?"

  "He says they use portals, but we've never seen one. He thinks we can cross over to their dimension, and that's why we're able to change."

  "Why don't you stay that way then?"

  "It only lasts a few minutes. It wears me out. That's why we drink vodka. It helps with the pain."

  Kandice began to ask another question, but he stopped her by saying, "You need to prepare yourself. The police will look for all of us."

  "Yeah. I saw a news report where they were looking for a man with blue hair."

  "That's under control. I already ditched my car from tonight. Slava will do the same for his tomorrow. Can you buy a new bike?"

  "No! I'm a poor college student."

  "I'll talk to Slava and see if we can get you one. He also knows easy ways to make money."

  "So, you're like criminals then? I don't want to live a life on the run."

  "No. We're more like alchemists. He can change objects into better objects."

  "How?"

  "You're getting ahead of yourself. I'm impressed by your ability to find me a second time, and because you can see the Aether Walkers, but I will not answer all your questions just because you ask them."

  Kandice laughed, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  She leaned forward and dropped her glass onto the table.

  "I follow you here out of blind faith," Kandice said, "and you don't trust me? You could be crazy killers for all I know."

  Lance laughed at her and poured himself another drink. Kandice got up from the sectional, determined to leave. If he wouldn't answer any more of her questions, there was no point in risking anything more by staying.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Home," she said. "I came here for answers, and now you've quit answering."

  "Just because I won't answer that one, doesn't mean I won't answer others. Sit back down and finish your drink."

  She stopped a few steps away from the couch and looked back at him. Slava opened the door and looked between her and Lance. He said something in Russian to Lance, then nodded towards her.

  "I'm sorry," Lance said. "Slava says I need to be more accommodating. He didn't raise me to be rude to a beautiful woman."

  He stood up from the couch and gestured with both hands to the seat across from him. "Please Kandice, sit back down."

  He looked to Slava, "We need to figure something out about her bike. I don't want the cops harassing her."

  Slava gave a long response in Russian, and Lance translated it, "Slava says we'll handle whatever happens from a police investigation."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  There wouldn't be innocent police killed just because it would be easier than explaining what happened.

  "We're able to create large sums of money when we need to," Lance said. "And this country's legal system helps those with money. We'd be able to bury any investigation with a legal battle, or bribes. Whichever would work best."

  Kandice sat back down. There had to be a reason the Aether Walkers appeared in their true form to her. These two knew more than they led her to believe, which was frustrating, there was no reason for so many secrets. Lance might be the one filling her in, but Slava seemed to know the bulk of the knowledge regarding Aether Walkers.

  "Besides," Lance said. "If it comes down to it, we can always create new identities and move far away. We could leave the country for a while if we have to, but we would rather that not happen to you."

  Kandice sat quietly, trying to work out in her mind if fleeing the country was an option if the authorities came after her.

  "Are you hungry?"

  Kandice hadn't realized how long it had been since her last meal. But after checking the time, it was too late to eat with them. Sneaking back into the house only became harder as the night dragged on.

  "I need to go home," she said. "It's almost four, and if my aunt finds me out of the house when she wakes up, it won't be pretty."

  "Okay. I'll walk you to the door."

  He offered his hand to help her up and opened the front door for her.

  "When you wake up tomorrow, call me," he said, and handed her a phone. "It's an unregistered phone. If you need to contact me, always use this phone, never your own. It has my number already programed in, along with Slava's."

  "Thank you. When will I get to see you again?"

  "Soon," Lance smiled. "Good night, Kandice."

  "Good night."

  Kandice's ride home was a blur. Her mind drove on autopilot the whole way. The night left her with more questions than answers, but it was imperative that Lance explain to her how he changed. If it was possible for her to do it, it would be a game changer when it came to fighting the Aether Walkers.

  WHAT'S NEXT?

  Kandice's adventure continues in Alchemy Clockwork: Aether Walker 2 (Chronicles of the Seventh Realm Book 9).

  You can find a complete list of books for the Chronicles of the Seventh Realm at my website, https://nakbaldron.com While you're there, be sure and sign up for my newsletter to learn more about the series, and be notified of any sales or new releases.

  AUTHOR'S NOTES

  EVERY TIME I WRITE A BOOK, I always forget to write my Author's Notes until the very end. My deadline is 3 hours and counting, and the very last thing I'm doing is writing these notes. (So, if they suck, that's what I'm blaming them on.)

  What can I say, that hasn't already been said? Being an author is seriously the best career in the world! Everything I experience is centered around the idea of "how can I can use this in a book". This central function is checked, only by my core guiding principle of always seeking the truth. Ironically, I write fiction for a living, but I honestly believe the old adage:

  "Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth." ― Albert Camus

  If I've done my job right, you should come away from my books with a deeper understanding of yourself and the crazy world we live in. Or at least, that's the goal I've set for myself. Completely reasonable I know. It's not as if I've designed an untrackable goal, based around an enigma. It's not as if philosophers haven't been arguing about truth for the better part of 5,000 years. No, not at all.

  If you've ever wondered why authors—and maybe artists as a whole—are so eccentric, I think it comes down to this core element of choosing a career that's impossible to determine if the conditions of success have been met. My workaround, has been to find the readers who love my writing, and then do everything within my abilities to keep impressing them. I want each book to be new and wonderous. Themes can repeat, but I want there to always be new revelations.

  I wrote this in ten minutes before submitting the final manuscript to Amazon for publication. Hopefully, a completely unfilte
red look into the mind of an author was at least entertaining.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I'M ALWAYS WORRIED II'LL FORGET SOMEONE.

  First off, I'd like to thank you for choosing to read this book above all the others on your TBR list. I know all too well, how hard it is to find time for reading, and just how large a TBR list can grow. I'm truly honored that you've chosen Alchemy Visions, and I hope you'll read the rest of the Chronicles of the Seventh Realm, if you haven't already.

  Jess, for all the support and reader feedback she gave. If not for her this series might not have seen the light of day.

  Sabetha, for her tough love and never-ending support. I love you and will never forget or take for granted how much work you put into this.

  K.K., for always being patient, even when all we want to do is play Lord of the Rings Legos. I love you, and promise the next thing I do after I wrap up this book, is play video games with you!

  Lastly, myself. 2020 is the year I start to appreciate and acknowledge—me and my hard work—to myself. I've been far too hard on myself the past decade and it's no wonder my motivation fluctuated like a yoyo. Moving forward, I promise to use the hard numbers I track to determine my efforts rather than upholding myself to impossible standards.

  ALCHEMY CLOCKWORK

  Chronicles of the Seventh Realm Book 9

  Aether Walker 2

  By NAK Baldron

  Alchemy Clockwork by NAK Baldron

  Published by Aconite Cafe

  P.O. Box 63

  Marble Falls, TX 78654

  www.AconiteCafe.com

  www.NAKBaldron.com

  © 2020 NAK Baldron

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  Staff@aconitecafe.com

  Cover by Aconite Cafe.

  PROLOGUE

  Wednesday, June 18th, 1975

  The Cessna Skyhawk rattled violently as they flew across the border into Soviet Ukraine. Walter clenched the bottom of his chair, desperate for the flight to end.

  He recalled his father's words, "Man would have been given wings, if he were meant to fly."

  At that moment, he would have gladly agreed with his father if it meant he could exit the plane.

  As if to answer his prayer, the pilot's voice came through Walter's headset, "We're going to touchdown in a field. You'll want to brace yourself. It'll be a rough landing."

  Rough was an understatement. The Plane skipped across the farmland as if it were a stone upon a pond. But true to his word, the pilot brought the plane to a complete stop in one piece.

  The pilot cut the engines, "You've got 4 hours to get back here. After that I'm leaving, with or without you. If you can't find your man─"

  "I'll be back with time to spare," Walter pushed open the door and hopped out into the mud of the field.

  He could see the city in the distance. They were less than 3 miles out of town, and there was no time to waste. Walter took off at the fastest jog he could maintain toward the city. His target, Slava, would be at work, and it was crucial he found him.

  With his brow covered in sweat, Walter made it into the city. On one side of the road were fields, and then on the other buildings stretched down to the sea. The Council hadn't provided much assistance, other than a map and location of the university where Slava taught.

  A workman stopped his small truck—the fourth Walter tried to hail. He didn't have money, but he did have something better. Gold.

  Walter climbed into the passenger seat and showed the driver his map. Then the gold. Neither could understand the other's language, but the transactional nature of their encounter was clear. The driver drove with a new found vigor.

  Don't make eye contact, Walter thought as they passed a small group of police.

  Meanwhile the driver continued to ramble on energetically in Ukranian. Every time he looked to Walter, he'd nod along—as if he could understand the man. They made excellent time, and soon were outside the university depicted on the map.

  "Thank you."

  Walter handed over a small ball of gold about the size of a pinkie nail. The man bit it with his front teeth, and his whole face lit up as his teeth sunk into the soft metal. It was pure. The Council only dealt in pure metal.

  The campus was smaller than most Walter had seen. It almost looked sad. On the bright side, it made it far easier to locate Slava's building. The Council had shown him a black-and-white photo of the man, but they thought it too risky for him to keep it. If the authorities captured him, his orders were to say nothing and wait for extraction.

  Walter didn't plan to test his resolve. Not on this mission.

  It took nearly 20 minutes of wandering the corridors, but Walter located Slava's office.

  Walter opened the door without knocking. Slava nearly jumped from the brash entrance. Silent as a rock, he stared at Walter—waiting. No doubt curious why a stranger stood before him as if he owned the building.

  "Slava?"

  "Da."

  "My name is Walter Cummings. The Council has sent me to extract you, in gratitude for all your assistance."

  "We go now?"

  "Da," Walter gestured to the desk Slava sat behind. "Leave all of this. There's no time."

  Slava glanced around his office and calmly gathered his briefcase. Apparently, he'd not been prepared to leave his life's work behind. He moved with the slow deliberation of a scientist.

  "We must go now!"

  "Pindos." Slava grabbed his hat from the coat rack by the door and followed Walter into the hall.

  "Do you have a car?"

  "Da."

  As they walked, Walter showed Slava his map and pointed to the rough location where the pilot waited for them with a plane. Slava's fear of Them was over.

  Walter would see to it The Council named Salva his second, and together they would pacify Europe's plague. For the past 30 years, The Council has been overwhelmed with sightings of Them in positions of authority. War brought opportunity, and They had taken it.

  Their escape was uneventful. No dramatic car chase with the authorities, or a bloody shootout. Just a tiny plane leaving a deserted field, and Walter gasping for air as he fought down the urge to vomit.

  "I'm surprised we made it out of the city without being discovered," Walter said.

  Slava laughed, "Nekompetentnyy Militsiya."

  They sat in silence, both knowing Slava owed his life to Walter, and that sort of debt wasn't easily repaid.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Thursday, September 1st

  IT TOOK KANDICE A MINUTE to recall everything that happened the night before. Somehow, spending most of the night asking Lance questions had created more that needed answers. What stuck in her mind the most was that Lance came from a family of people who perceived the Aether Walkers in their true form. There were no whispers in her family regarding this kind of genetic secret. But if there were relatives that could see them, there had to be a way to know who shared the gift.

  Last night her brother tried to question her whereabouts, but the information overload from her visit with Lance and Slava left her too exhausted to explain. She had fallen asleep in her clothes without the need for pills—a first in nearly a year.

  It was already past ten. Grateful there was no school, she rolled out of bed. Her brother was asleep with his door open and his computer running as usual. There always seemed to be a faint blue glow from his room, regardless of the time of day.

  The phone Lance had given her was still in her pocket. She hoped he would be up for a second round of interrogation.

  She sent him a text as she went downstairs.

  Kandice: Hey. Can we meet again today? I still have questions, and I need to help you hunt down the Aether Walkers.

  The mindless routine of preparing a pot of French pressed coffee and frying up eggs and hash browns was calming. A good plate of breakfast food
helped ground her—it was true, the right breakfast could set the tone for the day.

  As she sat to eat, Lance's reply came in.

  Lance: Give me your address, and I'll be by soon. We still need to get you a new bike.

  Kandice: 123573 Tilghman Trail, 78729

  Lance: Be there in 20.

  Oh, shit!

  She hadn't expected him to rush over so quickly and shoveled a few bites in her mouth before running upstairs to change. It would be embarrassing for Lance to see her in the same clothes from last night. She at least had to fake being a responsible adult.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thursday, September 1st

  KANDICE WATCHED FROM THE KITCHEN as Lance pulled into their driveway with a small blue truck that looked as if a strong wind could blow it off the road. He had mentioned replacing the mustang, but didn't say with what. The little truck was the last thing she would have imagined him driving. The SUV had been large, and the mustang fast, but this truck was neither impressive nor flashy.

  Kandice opened the door before he knocked or rang the doorbell.

  "Hi. Come in, but be quiet. I don't want to wake my brother."

  "Okay," he smiled.

  Kandice had changed into casual school clothes, but Lance still looked her up and down as he walked inside. Her appearance was a mess compared to the night before. Since hunting involved the bar scene, it was important to dress the part while maintaining the mobility to fight.

  "Would you like coffee?" Kandice asked. "I was just having breakfast. Are you hungry?"

  "No, thank you."

  Kandice led him to the living room where they sat on opposite ends of the sofa. The moment stretched into an awkward silence—unlike last night—there wasn't a good place to start in with the flood of questions that filled her mind.