Malachai

by Romi Hart

  “Well, it’s like this,” Lincoln replied. “Tobias is the one who gave Victor to understand those shitheads weren’t actually looking to kill you and the lady when they blew up the cottage, but if you ask me….”

  Malachai waited, but Lincoln only shuffled his feet. “If I ask you, what are you gonna tell me? Out with it, man.”

  Lincoln flapped his wrist at the map. “I’m not sure Victor came to the right conclusion about where the teams were and how close they were to making a move on us.”

  Todd slapped his knuckles into Lincoln’s arm. “Hush yo’ mouth, boy. That’s The Man you’re talking about.”

  Malachai chopped his hand through the air. “Let’s get one thing straight right now, people. Victor left me in charge. If you have something to say about the best way to protect Ogru-Kuche or even Anarock for that matter, I want to hear it. If you have something to say against Victor’s judgment, just spit it out. What makes you think they were closer to us than Victor thinks? What could make you think that?”

  Lincoln stole a peek at Todd before he blurted out his answer. “It was Felicia. She was posted on the third team—here.”

  He shot out one finger and stabbed it toward a different location. Malachai frowned. “That’s miles away from the hub.”

  Lincoln nodded fast. “The third team came to the hub at a separate time and left long before the other teams got anywhere near it. Then they took off to another part of the city.”

  “So what are you saying?” Malachai asked. “What did Felicia find out about them?”

  “She didn’t,” Lincoln replied. “She couldn’t follow them without being seen. The other trackers were the ones who followed them.”

  Malachai turned to Jackson. “So was it your people who tracked them?”

  Jackson shook his head. “It was the Fischers.”

  Malachai’s jaw dropped. His hand flew to his head. “Holy fucking Christ!”

  “That’s what I’m telling you, man,” Lincoln exclaimed. “We don’t know where they went, but it wasn’t to the goddamned hub. We won’t know where they went or what they’re up to until we touch base with the trackers and that’s not likely to happen with the Fischers. You know that as well as I do, man.”

  Malachai struggled to get his head screwed on straight. He held up his hand again and shut his eyes. “All right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Jackson, you get your people tracking all the other teams. Don’t let ‘em out of your sight for a second. If they go back to the hub, get one of Matilda’s kids to find out what they’re doing, but as long as they stay away from Central City, don’t break your asses. Just monitor them so we know what they’re doing.”

  “What about the third team?” Lincoln fidgeted. “I…..Shit, man! I don’t like a military team running around town trying to find out where the fuck we are.”

  Malachai waved that away. “If Victor is right, they already know where we are and they already know Isabelle is here. The problem is finding out what the fuck they’re up to before they do it. You people go do your thing and leave the third team to me.”

  The other guys exchanged glances. Lincoln made a face and he and Todd got ready to leave. Jackson leaned across the table and jerked his chin at Malachai. “Hey, brother. You want I should put my boy on the third team? I give you my word they won’t see us.”

  Malachai started to answer, but at that moment, the war room doors flew open. He spun around to see Cooper and Nolan Slaughter come striding in. They cast their keen eyes around the place until they spotted Malachai.

  They halted a few yards away and Coop dipped his chin once. “Are we too late to join the party?”

  Malachai almost kissed him. Instead, he gripped the young man’s shoulder and pulled him forward. “Shit, you’re a sight for sore eyes! Get over here. You’re just in time to blow out the goddamned birthday candles.”

  Jackson retreated and Malachai guided the Slaughter boys to the table. He waited until Lincoln, Todd, and Jackson left the war room before he dropped his voice to a confidential murmur. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you boys. How are your people up-country? Are you making out all right?”

  “We’re good,” Coop snapped, but his tone told Malachai the opposite. “You don’t worry about us and our people.”

  Malachai compressed his arm again. “I understand. You let us know if we can do anything.”

  “You can do something by finding the bastards that did this to us,” Nolan cut in. “If you have any information for us, you give us that before you ask us for anything.”

  Malachai measured his answer with care. “Believe me, son. We’re doing everything we can to find the Omega Battalion. My brother and our people want revenge against those cocksuckers for killing your family as much as you do.”

  “I doubt that,” Coop growled.

  Malachai nodded. After the Omega Battalion wiped out Lucas Slaughter and his whole party, the Prometheus Crest could only make wide allowances for their surviving relatives. “From what we can tell, they retreated through an interdimensional portal to some other world. We’re doing everything we can to find them, but we don’t think they’re on Earth anymore. My brother Bryce is with them, but from what we can tell, the Omega Battalion attacked Lucas’s camp long before Bryce ever joined them. I can give you my word of honor we’re doing everything we can to locate them and engage with them. The minute we do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  The brothers looked at each other again. They matched each other exactly in height and their long hair hanging down their backs. They were almost as tall as Malachai and they wore battered leather clothing like they just stepped out of the deep Quag—which they did.

  Nolan straightened up. He bit off his words with a harsh, cutting tone. “That’s what we’re here for. We’re here to offer our services to you and your family as long as we can be on hand to be the first to find out when you do locate them.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” Malachai replied. “I can put you to work right now and I can give you my solemn bond I won’t send you anywhere you’ll be too far away from the action.”

  Coop jerked his chin at Malachai. “What about your brother? What about when he comes back? Will he honor your bond?”

  Malachai straightened up to stare him down. “My brother holds your father’s murder close to his heart. He will honor my bond. I can speak for him on that without any reservations.”

  Coop puffed out a long sigh. “All right, man. We take your word. What do you want us to do?”

  16

  Isabelle woke up late in the afternoon. She lay in the luxurious bed for a long time just letting her brain catch up with the rest of her. This apartment didn’t appear to have any windows. Only the exterior walls of Ogru-Kuche let in light and air from the outside.

  Light tubes lit up nearly every room and made the building bright and cheerful—all except the lowest floors populated by the derelict human wreckage Riley said were there to fool the human world about the building’s true function.

  Isabelle’s head swam with everything she learned and saw and endured in the last few days. Now she was lying in this bed wrapped in perfect safety and comfort. The disconnect didn’t make sense to her—not yet.

  A door slamming startled her out of her thoughts. She sat up and listened, but she didn’t hear anything. She pushed back the bedspread and tiptoed out, but she couldn’t exactly go into the main living areas in her panties and tank top.

  She searched the drawers and closets. She found a pair of jeans and kicked into them. She couldn’t find a bra so she put a floppy knitted sweater over her tank top and swept her hair to one side.

  She creaked back the door. The apartment slumbered in silence, but hidden instincts told her someone was out there. Was it a friend or an enemy? Malachai lived here with Victor and Riley, his mother Tessa, and his sister Courtney. No one mentioned anyone else living here, so what did she really have to worry about?

  She crept down the hall. When she pe
eked around the door frame into the living room, she blinked in astonishment. Malachai sat alone on the couch. He stared straight ahead at nothing. His hands rested limp and motionless on his thighs.

  She never saw him like this before. His usual animated vitality didn’t enliven his features. He slumped and didn’t move.

  She dared to advance a few steps, but before she reached him, he launched off the couch. He shot across the room and paced back and forth in front of the bookshelf. He ran his fingers through his hair. He propped his hands on his hips. Then he threw up his hands and let them flop.

  He swerved to pace back and spotted Isabelle standing there. He jumped a foot in the air and yelled. His hand flew to his heart and he leaped back several feet. “Holy shit! You scared the fuck out of me!”

  She stiffened. “You scared me, too! Jesus, what are you doing?”

  He whirled one way and then the other. His gaze flashed around the room not seeing anything. “Where’s…. I mean…. Christ, you scared me.”

  He collapsed on the couch and rested his head in his palm. He kept letting out exasperated sighs and twitching. Isabelle stared at him. What could make him so agitated? She hardly dared go near him.

  He groaned again. “Shit! I wish Victor was here.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I…” His shoulders rounded one more time and he wilted. “Him and Riley and Colonel Weeks went out into the Quag on some business. He…..”

  She strained to hear the words he didn’t say. “He what?”

  He straightened up and drooped again. He kept sighing. Finally, he glanced up at her. “Are you hungry? You should get something to eat.”

  She couldn’t stand this tension a second longer. She rushed to his side, but when she sat down next to him, she held herself back from touching him. “What’s going on? What’s the matter? What’s bothering you?”

  He scanned the apartment like he hoped he might see something there, something that wasn’t there. At last, his head fell into his hand again. “I’m fucked—royally fucked.”

  Her heart sank watching him. She wished like anything she could help him, but she didn’t see any way to do that. “Are you gonna be okay?”

  He startled her by jumping to his feet again. He strode back and forth by the bookshelf scanning the walls. “He left me in charge of Ogru-Kuche and now the shit’s hitting the fan and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Her eyes bugged out of her head. “What shit is hitting the fan? Is it anything serious?”

  “It isn’t now but it fucking well will be in no uncertain terms.” He talked faster and gesticulated in all directions. “The military is still looking for you—at least, they’re using you to find us. They sent what looks like five teams into Anarock to track you. That one that attacked the cottage was just one and they fucked up big time by shooting at us. They were just supposed to find us, but they got a little trigger-happy and wound up dead to boot. Now the other four are out there prowling around.”

  Isabelle’s stomach clenched. “What are you going to do?”

  “Victor sent our trackers to follow them. Three of them are using a vantage point in Gentilly to coordinate, but the other one is either going rouge or they’re onto something we can’t pinpoint. We used our phasers to eavesdrop on their conversations. We know the other three are looking for us, but we don’t know what the other one is up to. We don’t even know where the fuck they are.”

  Isabelle frowned more to herself than at him. “How do you know they don’t know you’re people are following them? They could be leading your trackers around by their noses.”

  He snorted under his breath. “They won’t. They’ll never know they were there.”

  “How can you be sure? What kind of trackers could follow a military infiltration team without being seen?”

  “They’re invisible.” He stopped long enough to smile at her. “Don’t you remember how Jules Hitchcock moved around without being seen?”

  She blinked up at him. “Invisible?”

  He went back to pacing. “That’s the problem. One of our phasers found the third team, but she couldn’t track them. We got caught with our pants down and now I have to play catch-up with different trackers that are…..” He broke off. “Aw, to hell with it. It don’t mean nothing.”

  Nervous energy drove her to her feet. She hustled to his side. “If Anarock is in danger because of me, I want to know about it. Tell me everything.”

  He shook his head on his way back to his seat. “You wouldn’t understand. Just leave it to me.”

  “You’re the one who brought me here. What happens to Anarock concerns me, so you better spill it. What are you gonna do about this third team?”

  He reclined back on the cushion. “I already took care of it.”

  “If that’s true, why are you so worked up? Why do you keep saying you’re royally fucked?”

  He hopped to his feet and crisscrossed the room in every direction. He chopped at the air and flapped his arms in jittery anxiety. “It’s the Fischers. They’re invisibility shifters like the Ripleys. They’re the ones tracking the third team and they’re fucking bone crazy. I don’t know if they won’t engage the team on the streets. I don’t know what Victor was thinking when he put them on the job. It’s straight suicide. I never would have brought them in on this job, but I’m not in charge of Ogru-Kuche. He is.”

  She settled into her seat gazing up at him. She couldn’t keep jumping up and down to follow him. She let him play out his energy marching back and forth in front of her. “Not anymore, he isn’t. You’re in charge now. If you don’t agree with letting them track the team, why don’t you pull them off the job?”

  He skidded to a halt and gaped down at her. “What?”

  “Pull ‘em off.” She motioned toward the door. She would have waved at a window, but there wasn’t any window. “Screw Victor. He’s not here and he put you in charge. Do what you think is best for Anarock. No one says you have to keep doing it his way.”

  He stared at her so long she worried she offended him. All at once, he turned away. “That’s what I did.”

  Her head shot up. “You did what?”

  “I pulled ‘em. I sent my own people to track the team—guys I know are steady. They’re not invisible, but who the fuck cares, right? They’ll get the job done. I know that.”

  A cold sweat broke out all over her. “Who are they?”

  “They’re Slaughter boys—bear shifters from up north. They can smell a fly buzzing a mile in the air and they know how to track if anybody does. They’ll find those assholes and they’ll send me word I can rely on, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say about the goddamned Fischers.”

  Isabelle sensed herself spinning out of control. She never would have believed so many conflicting intrigues and political loyalties could govern this hidden world into which she stumbled.

  He advanced on the bookshelf. For a second, she thought he might be studying the books, but a minute later, he doubled over and propped his palm against the wood. He let his head hang and heaved a broken sigh. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I just said what I thought.”

  “That’s what I mean. I thought I made a mistake deviated from Victor’s plan. I thought I did wrong by second-guessing him. Now you’re telling me the same thing. Thanks. I really needed to hear that I’m crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy.” She said it, but she saw the words bounce off him. He wasn’t listening.

  She observed him for a moment, but he only dangled there bent under the great weight of his responsibility. She couldn’t let him writhe in that torment.

  She got to her feet and approached him. She touched his arm. He felt just as solid as ever, but now she detected the pain of human anguish in him. She recognized his vulnerability at last. She never let herself see it before. Now it pierced her heart. Maybe that was part of the Anarock she never saw before. She didn’t see it until she looked beneath the surfa
ce.

  “You’re gonna be great. You’re gonna do a good job taking care of the place until Victor gets back. Everyone around here believes in you and I believe in you, too.”

  She said it before she fully comprehended that she felt that way. The words formed on her lips of their own free will. They escaped before she thought to hold them back.

  Now she couldn’t take them back and she didn’t want to. She believed in him. He would do the best job possible to protect his people and his city. She never doubted that for an instant.

  He straightened up. His steely eyes hovered far above her. He saw all the way into her with nothing holding them apart. “I’m glad you’re here where we can protect you. I’m glad…..”

  He stopped, but she didn’t need to know what he was about to say. She already understood. She wasn’t even surprised when he glided nearer and extended his arms to close her in. Even him bending down to kiss her blended with everything else that happened.

  His lips came into contact with her mouth and her being dissolved in him. He looped his elbows under her armpits and picked her up. Her bones liquefied and she plunged into the sodden depths of his kiss. Her eyes blurred until she couldn’t see anything, but he was right there in front of her. His warmth and his muscles and his arms took control of her. She didn’t have to concern herself with anything else.

  His biceps clamped around her torso. Her feet hovered off the ground, but she didn’t care. She threaded her fingers into his hair and caressed the back of his neck reveling in the delicious dream of his mouth and tongue. He had her. She was kissing him the way she wanted to.

  The disaster of their first abortive encounter at the cottage disappeared as though it never happened. Even when her vision cleared and she discovered him studying her a few inches away, she didn’t need to defend herself against him anymore. They wanted each other, so how could this be wrong?

  His lips directed her how to kiss him, how to meet his tongue, which way to turn her head to answer his movements. His arms commanded her to melt at his touch, at the rock-hard wall of muscle pressed into her breasts.