Book of the Dead: AESLI-00: (A reverse harem, post-pandemic, slow-burn romance) (The JAK2 Cycle, Book 1)

by V. E. S. Pullen

  “How’d she know where to send it?” Spider was getting increasingly upset, and I didn’t blame him. It was kind of a big deal to find out they were from a Rez. In some places — like, say, in the middle of a military base — it could get you arrested. Them talking about it in front of us was an unexpected level of trust.

  “We’ve talked a few times. We’re in that lab, uninterrupted, for the whole day every day, which is another level of things I don’t understand. Mouse kinda cornered me early on, trying to find out why I was there and what I thought I was doing by flirting with Azzie. I ended up having to tell her some stuff, she was fucking relentless and incredibly suspicious. She’s very, very protective of Azzie. But when I told her we grew up on the Rez, she was suddenly okay with everything. Like she knew—”

  “Tai!” Spider barked, and he tried to play it off but we weren’t stupid.

  “Are you NNC?” I asked.

  He ignored me and kept talking. “—she apparently decided to send a package to Mom. Who won’t open it until I get an explanation from Mouse.”

  “About that sat phone…” Sev said, and Tai looked over at him with one eyebrow cocked in challenge. “Can we text our dad?” Sev glanced over at me and I nodded, agreeing that he should tell them. “We were supposed to find a way to get to a sat phone or another uplink within seven days of getting here to check in. If he doesn’t hear from us within fourteen days, he’s coming to get us, and that would be bad.”

  “Yeah, been meaning to ask you…” Spider said pointedly. “We’re starting to think you’re not exactly run-of-the-mill teenage boys—”

  “Who are you?” Tai asked bluntly.

  The three of us exchanged looks. I tilted my head, Luka and Sev both nodded.

  “We’re not even teenage boys,” I said, with a huge sigh. “We’re twenty-one. And we’re patched-in members of the Hellspawn.”

  Tai abruptly sat down, his face draining of color. “Seriously?”

  Spider moved a box on a nearby shelf, grabbed something that was behind it, and carried it over and set the device down on their coffee table. “Do you know what this is?”

  “Jammer,” Sev said, picking it up and examining it.

  “So then you know you can speak freely.”

  I nodded.

  “You aren’t just patched-in members, are you.” It wasn’t a question. “We’ve heard of you. Fucking triplets. How did we not figure it out?”

  Tai shrugged. “When you’re so busy keeping your own secrets, you tend to overlook other people’s.”

  “For Azzie,” I said, looking at each man, “cards on the table?” Every one of us nodded.

  “Our dad is Stash Kolek. He goes by Justice.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Tai swore, him and Spider staring at each other with worrisome expressions. “Mom is going to kill us.”

  “Mom is Vernita Fox,” Spider finally said, breaking off the stare and turning to me, and it was our turn to let loose some curses.

  “Sat phone,” Sev said. “We really can’t have a couple hundred Hellspawn rolling in here to find Vernita Fox’s sons sharing a beer with us. Fucking shit. War on two fronts.”

  Spider disappeared down a hallway, and returned a few minutes later with a satellite phone, about the only thing that would bypass the base’s locked-down, air-gapped network. While he was gone, Tai explained they didn’t bring it in themselves — we were all thoroughly searched — they had inside help but he wouldn’t tell us who. At this point, I didn’t care.

  Sev took the phone, texted back and forth a few times, cleared the conversation and history, and then passed it back to Spider. “All set. Told Dad we’re good, and he should give mom a hug for us. That’s our code for stay the fuck away until we need you.”

  Tai chuckled. “Ours is we’ll come visit soon.”

  “So what are we going to do about Azzie?” Luka sat back, looking around at each of us, and he was fucking miserable. So was Sev. And although I was keeping my poker face intact, I was too.

  None of this helped things. None of this fixed the damage we were doing to this girl; this girl that none of us could let go, but we all fucking had to eventually. Every single one of us was embroiled in shit that that little girl would never be able to survive.

  Outside these walls, our world was an ugly fucking place, and she was a fragile, precious little thing that would get bulldozed a hundred times over by our family, the Hellspawn, or theirs, the fucking Native Nationalist Coalition.

  Spider pulled his phone out of his pocket the same time Tai looked down at his. I felt mine buzz, and Luka and Sev both pulled their’s out of their pockets. We all looked at each other, then opened our email.

  “We’re going to go to this meeting in the morning, find out what the fuck is going on, and then we’re going to take Azzie away from the school and tell her everything,” Tai said decisively.

  And now we had a plan.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Azzie

  The patrol dropped me off outside the med center. I told them I was meeting Rachel, and they didn’t question it even though they could probably see her through the window when they picked me up at the house. After they pulled away, I walked around the north side of the building, looking for the nondescript sedan with the two men in it. They flashed their lights, and I headed to the car. The passenger door swung open as I approached, and I got into the car, closing it behind me.

  “It doesn’t have to be tonight,” the older of the two men said. “You look upset. You can still change your mind.”

  “I’m not upset about this— well, I mean, I am but that’s not what this is about. There’s other things going on, but nothing that matters,” I said, voice steady, eyes clear, not letting any sign of hesitation or reluctance show. “Mean people suck,” I said mockingly and the man in the backseat snorted.

  “If they knew what you were doing— what you’ve done… no one in their right mind would be mad at you, Aesli.”

  “Azzie,” I corrected him. “Azrael if you must.”

  He nodded solemnly.

  “Well?” I asked, looking between them. “Did you bring what I asked for?”

  “Yes,” the one in back said, handing me a plastic bag. I checked inside, everything was in there.

  “Alrighty. I guess I’ll head out then,” I said, but didn’t move. I stared out through the windshield, willing myself to get out of the car, but my body wasn’t working.

  “Take the night,” the driver said, reaching for the bag. “You can’t undo this, so you need to be sure.”

  “I’m sure,” I said, opening the door and climbing out. “I hope I see you in a week!” I said with painful cheer as my eyes filled up and my hands shook.

  “Azzie,” the driver spoke from inside the car. “Azzie, we all owe you a great debt, never doubt that we—”

  “It’s all good, guys,” I interrupted, “but you should probably leave now. Come back in a week. You’ll know either way then.” I slammed the car door and walked towards the hospital entrance, pulling things out of the bag as I went. I heard the car pull away behind me, saw the lights sweep around, then the red taillights reflecting in the sliding doors that proclaimed “Emergency Department” in big red letters.

  I uncapped the needle on the syringe, tucking the cap into my pocket and holding the syringe in my mouth. I rolled back my shirt sleeve and found my most mature insertion point. I wiped it with the alcohol swab, then slid the needle into it at the exact angle, the angle Mouse punctured me with every day for two months, the same depth every time, until the tube of scar tissue leading into my arm was as solid as a straw and the vein beneath had a permanent flap worked into it that gave way under even dull needles, and this was no dull needle.

  Here goes nothin’.

  I hit the plunger and felt the contents go in, even though I knew I couldn’t really feel it, it was all in my mind. But it was cold. I’d swear it was cold. I recapped the needle with shaking hands, tucking it into my pockets. I s
topped at the closest garbage can and threw the bag away, donning the surgical mask and gloves that had been inside.

  The doors to the ER slid open in front of me and I walked in to where a confused nurse sat behind a counter. I stopped six feet back and said loudly, “My name is Aesli Azrael Vokaty, and I need you to put me in a clean room in the ICU right now. I need you to call Dr. McNamara and tell him where I am and that I just injected myself with blood contaminated with a mutated strain of JANUS-23, called JANUS-27. Write that down, JANUS-27. And I’m going to need some fucking morphine. I don’t know if you’ve ever felt your blood cells get murdered in your veins, but trust me, it’s memorable. I’m not going through that again without the good stuff.”

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Epilogue

  Tai

  “Please be seated, we have a lot of material to cover and very little time to do so.”

  I immediately recognized the woman at the head of the conference table, the projector controller in her hand: Dr. Elizabeth Kane, the one that has been causing Azzie so much grief by taking her off birth control. I glanced around at the other six men in the room with me and saw no recognition from any of them, though Ryan’s eyes were narrowed on Kane’s assistant as if he was trying to place him.

  “As you are aware, the seven of you were recruited to participate in a study looking at genetic factors contributing to multiple births—”

  Right. Bullshit.

  “—but that is not actually the case. You are participating in a very different study altogether, although you were recruited precisely because you are the products of multiple births. We are meeting today because we have successfully completed phase one of the study ahead of schedule, and are ready to launch phase two. Success at phase two requires that you be aware of the real purpose and aims of your participation, and as I said, we have a lot of material to cover. Please hold all questions until the end. Feel free to take notes on the pad of paper you have been provided to ensure any questions you have are answered satisfactorily, but be aware that no written notes or recordings of this session will be leaving this room. With that in mind, place your cell phones on the table for my assistant to collect. He will hold them until the end of the session and then they’ll be returned.”

  We all looked around at each other now, eyebrows raised but protests withheld. Seven cell phones hit the table, and the scrawny, balding man with an insincere smile that Ryan had been eyeing, gathered all of them up onto a tray that he passed to someone outside the room. Sasha pulled a pen out of his pocket and rested his hand on the notepad, writing implement poised.

  “Thank you. Let’s get right to it then. If you look at the screen at the front of the room, you can see the agenda for this session. Item one is an explanation of your recruitment, item two is a review of the study aims including the rationale and purpose, and item three is intended to describe what we consider to be a successful outcome. Q&A follows. Let’s begin…”

  What followed was a fucking nightmare, and I hope never to experience anything like it again.

  It began with a rehash of our recruitment, something we were all familiar with having lived it, but with an added twist: an explanation as to why we were chosen.

  “The seven of you fall within the desired age range and have genetic profiles that should be compatible—” with what? “—and you are all the product of a multiple birth unrelated to fertility treatments or assistive reproductive technology. You are all identical twins (or triplets) meaning that you are the product of divided eggs, not the simultaneous fertilization of two separate eggs. You are also all carriers of the hyperovulation gene; although you have no influence on whether your partner produces multiple births, it increases the chances for multiple births in subsequent generations from your female offspring. In addition, you all have O-negative blood types, the universal donor type. All of these requirements factored into your selection for the study, but there were other traits deemed desirable: all of you are physically attractive, intelligent, charming, and scored high in the right brackets during the sexual preference tests. You exhibited the hallmarks of arousal for a wide range of features and traits, including those that correspond to our target profile. You also have a sexual history that suggests you have no ethical or moral objections to intercourse outside of wedlock or some other proscribed social limiter.”

  “Did she just call us sluts?” Luka asked, and all of us laughed — with the exception of Dr. Kane but including her assistant.

  “I believe she did,” I said.

  He reclined back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head with a smirk. “Feels a little judgey.”

  “Hey, if the condom fits, pretty boy,” Sev cracked, and the three of them cackled like there was more to the joke, until Sasha finally said, “Sorry, please continue.”

  She glared at them but didn’t comment further, holding up her hand and clicking the controller aggressively.

  “Moving on,” she said stiffly. “Now that you understand why you in particular were recruited—” I’d argue that’s a really generous assessment as all we knew is what made us eligible and not why. “— I can explain the phases of the study.”

  She clicked past the recruitment slides to one listing three phases and I blanched, looking first at my brother and then at the others, seeing the same horror reflected on their faces. The same shock froze us in place as she continued on as if this was the best news she’d ever had in her life. “Phase one was establishing your presence in your assigned role and making meaningful contact with the object of the study, Azrael Vokaty. As I stated early, phase one was completed ahead of schedule, and we are all extremely pleased by your success, especially since you were all acting without any prior knowledge as to your goals.”

  “What the fuck?!” Sasha was half out of his seat, face drained of all color, his eyes darting wildly back and forth between the screen and the extremely smug, self-satisfied woman I couldn’t possibly loathe more.

  “Precisely!” She crowed in delight at her own joke, and it turns out I could loathe her more.

  “I think it might be time for a short break,” her assistant said quickly, moving towards his boss and asking her to step out of the room for a moment to deal with an issue that needed her attention. Annoyed, she followed him out, and as the door shut we could hear her reprimanding her inferior for interrupting the meeting.

  I made eye contact with every one of them, making sure they were not just hearing me but listening to my words. “Do not react. Do not give them any response that would raise red flags. Do not say anything that could be perceived as an objection. No matter what is said in this room, present yourself as accepting, even enthusiastic, for what they ask of us. Any other reaction will put us, and possibly Azzie, in danger. Do you understand?”

  Sasha nodded gravely, his face a blank mask. Luka and Sev were less controlled, but managed to tamp down their anger and agree calmly. Jason and Ryan took their cues from the rest of us, though it took them a bit more effort to school their features. My eyes met Spider’s and his head jerked in an almost imperceptible nod. This was it, this was the missing piece.

  He took over. “If we manage to stay calm, it’s likely they will give us significantly more information, and it’s vitally important that we get as much intel from this meeting as possible. Do you understand? I need you to say it out loud.” Spider’s voice was low, calm, and devoid of all emotion — if my face and voice were as neutral as his given the hurricane of emotion I was experiencing, then our training had been a great success.

  “I understand” was echoed from six mouths.

  Kane and her assistant approached the conference room door once more. Just before it opened, Sasha caught my eye. “Meet after,” he ordered, and the corner of my mouth tilted up grimly as I nodded.

  Kane resumed her seat and woke up the screen, movements jerky with annoyance still directed at her assistant, who circled the room using the excuse of passing out bottles of water
to study each of us one by one. We’d have to play this very carefully.

  “I’m sorry for the interruption,” Kane said acidly, then smiled tightly. “As I was saying—”

  “I need to say something,” I deliberately interrupted, letting just enough anger and disgust leach into my voice to be convincing. “Assuming I’m reading this correctly, you want us to have sex with a chronically ill little girl? I’m not sure I— I’m not attracted to her.”

  My adrenaline spiked in anticipation of them seeing through the blatant lie, but Luka and Jason both made comments — even a joke — similar to mine, ramping up the authenticity. It was effective, skillful, and sickening, all at the same time.

  “She’s about to turn eighteen, but I understand your hesitation,” she interrupted, her tone and gestures meant to reassure us. “And we realize how distasteful you might find this whole thing to be, but please let me explain more about who and what Azrael is — it might help to understand what we’re asking, how important this is. Yes?”

  I nodded, narrowing my eyes at her as if to say it would take a lot to convince me.

  “Thank you. I have a few more things to say about phase one, then I can explain phase two in more depth.” She took our silence as agreement and relaxed back into presentation mode. “Each one of you slotted into your assigned role almost seamlessly, even when tasked with playing the part of someone several years younger than your actual age.” She began to chuckle as if this was a hilarious joke when she informed us that the triplets were actually 21 (which we knew) and the Callises would be 22 in about two months. “The five of you established yourselves as legitimate high school students, going so far as to befriend the male students and flirt with the females. I believe two of you also engaged in sexual contact with classmates—?” She looked around the table questioningly, and I was surprised to see the flush staining Sev’s cheeks, and Ryan’s obvious discomfort. Neither one of them struck me as particularly concerned with discretion.