Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection

by Rebecca Royce

  “I know,” he replied. He touched what looked like a computer screen and faced me. The controls of the boat were very different than what I was used to. Sure, there was a steering wheel, but besides that, there was just that panel. “You were with M502, S512, and R212. They were going to bring you back, if you chose.”

  “I did.” My hair blew in my face, so I tucked it behind my ears. The man approached me, and I found myself taking a step back, but there was nowhere to go. “I chose to go with them.”

  He nodded. “I know, but I couldn’t—” He put his hands on his hips and stared at his feet. The sun reflected off of his silver hair, and when he looked up at me, tears in his gray eyes, everything made sense.

  I knew him. Not as he was now, but as he had been twenty years ago when he held me in his arms on the day of my birth. “Dad?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  “But—you’re supposed to be dead.” It was a defining moment of my growing up. My mother didn’t lie about it, did she?

  “I know. I’m sorry I let you believe that for so long, but I had to come back.”

  Come back? If what my masks said was true, then he wasn’t supposed to remember any of this existed. A knot grew in my stomach at the wrongness of this whole thing. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll explain as soon as we get home.” And he turned away to face the quickly approaching land.

  He was dismissing me. I recognized it since I’d been dismissed most of my life, but I wasn’t going to accept it.

  “Where are Scott, Matthew, and Robert?” I asked.

  “They’re still in your time,” he replied. “It’ll take them a while to find their orbs, but I have no doubt they will. By the time they do, everything will be clear.” He clenched his jaw, a muscle near his ear twitched, and he narrowed his eyes.

  If he thought I was going to just accept that, he was wrong. “Why don’t you start filling me in now?”

  He peered at me and then away, not answering.

  “I don’t know if you understand, but I was supposed to be with them. They were taking me here, so while I’m glad you’re alive—” That was the right sentiment, wasn’t it? Even if I were pissed he’d disappeared, abandoned me and my mother, and lied, I should be glad he wasn’t really dead. “You owe me an explanation, and if you don’t give me one, then the minute we get on land, you can just bring me to whatever bus terminal all these orbs go to, and I’ll see you at Christmas.”

  He stared at me before smiling broadly. A second later though, he frowned. “Those men aren’t for you. They were never meant for you—or anyone actually.” Lifting his hand, he turned away from me. We were at a dock. Someone approached, running down the metal gangway to meet us. It was a man a little bit older than myself. My father turned off the engine, and the entire craft jerked as it was lifted out of the water until it was even with the dock.

  “Is this her?” the man asked. He had light brown hair, but sunglasses covered his eyes. He was tall, lanky, and tanned, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun. “You found her.”

  “I did,” he replied. “This is Chaney. My daughter.”

  “Wow.” He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it. When I didn’t, he went on, “I don’t want you to fall.”

  “Oh.” I took it, but the second our skin touched I recoiled. It hurt. He didn’t let me draw back, though, he just gripped my wrist and heaved me onto the dock.

  “You’ll get used to it. Once you acclimate to the environment here, then it won’t hurt anymore.” He didn’t release me right away, but stood, holding on to my wrist. My skin burned where he touched, so I twisted and yanked myself free.

  When I covered my wrist with my free hand, rubbing the spot he’d held, a small smile touched his lips. I didn’t like it. It was as if he were happy about my discomfort.

  A moment later, my father—how weird to think of this stranger that way—stopped next to me. “Don’t fuck around, Bas. Are the others ready?”

  He rocked back and forth on his feet. “Yeah. They’ve been waiting. No one believed they’d actually attach to someone.”

  The ‘they’ he was talking about had to be my masks. I turned to study my father. “What is going on?”

  “Things aren’t exactly how the rogues explained it to you,” he replied. “Come on.”

  Turning his back on me, he strode down the dock toward land. With no other choice, I followed him. I had no idea where we were. Nothing looked familiar. I don’t know what I had expected, but what I imagined was I’d go from one place, directly to the next, albeit, three hundred years in the future. The warmth and humidity definitely reminded me of New Orleans, but this wasn’t anything like any part of the Gulf I’d been to. It wasn’t even like the bayou.

  I squinted against the bright sunlight, studying the shoreline. There was something popping up along the edges where the water met the land. At first, I thought they were rocks, or a breakwater, but the longer I studied it, the less natural and more manmade they appeared.

  “That’s the Carrollton Courthouse,” Bas told me. He was quickly becoming someone I didn’t like. “Welcome to New Orleans.”

  When I stumbled, he smiled even broader.

  “Your generation didn’t do a very good job with the environment, and as a result, a good chunk of what you would call Louisiana is underwater. As is most of Florida. A good portion of Texas and that little arm shape in Massachusetts. But we don’t concern ourselves too much about that part of the country.”

  “Bas!” My dad’s voice was short. “Enough.”

  And to my surprise, the man listened. Though when he looked at me, he drew his finger over his lips and pretended to throw away a key.

  So I had appeared in the same place. Now that I knew this was my home, I couldn’t stop examining everything. My father led us away from the shore toward a set of low buildings in the distance. I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder toward the tiny peak of Carrollton Courthouse. I remembered that grand old building with its white stone exterior and thick columns. When Scott, Matthew, and Robert told me about the future, they hadn’t mentioned how much damage had been done to it.

  My brain was having a hard time keeping up with all these changes, so I made a decision. Until I got the lay of the land, I was going to keep my mouth shut. This guy said he was my father, and he looked like me, but how did I know who to trust? Could physical things be manipulated, changed, or altered to look so much like someone else? He could be lying. The only people I trusted were the masks, so until I had a better sense of what was going on, I needed to play along.

  I’d done the same thing—eventually—at the Canyon Cove. Once I realized fighting and arguing got me nothing but medicated, I tried observing. Then I’d waited for my opportunity, and I’d escaped.

  I’d do the same thing here if I needed to.

  A huge door opened, and a sleek silver vehicle backed out of the building. Like the boat, I could only identify this as car-like. It didn’t have wheels, but it had four doors, a front and back windshield, and a low, aerodynamic shape. Similar to the boat, it made no noise and had no smell, so I had no idea what propelled it. My father touched his hand to the door, and it opened.

  Well, that was different. It had no handles. He held open the door, waiting for me. “I’m going to take you home,” he said.

  I glanced over my shoulder toward the water. My home was there, hidden by the rising tide. I didn’t want to go, but I had few choices.

  “You can trust me.”

  I kept my face expressionless and got in, settling back against the comfortable seats. Bas and my dad got into the front seats, pressed a button on a screen, and we were off.

  The shore receded as we headed inland. Be patient. The masks would find me, and if they didn’t, I’d find them.

  Five

  I was relieved that the farther we drove, the more familiar the scenery became. We were headed north, and soon I saw the same trees and flowers I was used to. “What day is
it?” I asked.

  “First of November,” my dad answered.

  “Yesterday was Halloween,” Bas interjected. “You go trick or treating with the family, Alex?”

  Alex. My father’s name was Alex. “How come you don’t have numbers for names?” I asked.

  Bas peered over his shoulder at me. “Because we matter.”

  That put the cherry on the hate-this-guy ice cream. “I thought everyone had numbers and letters,” I persisted.

  “Not everyone.” I stared at the back of the man who called himself my father. I had called him Dad once, but it felt wrong to do it now. Just like that, my brain went from identifying him as family to Alex—a person I’d just met, and one I didn’t trust. “And no, we didn’t go trick or treating, though Cindra threw a party.”

  “That’s your stepmother” Bas threw out. “You have three brothers, by the way, but I can never remember their names. They’re not blood related to you. They came with her but your father adopted them.”

  Alex turned to face the man next to them. Whatever this relationship was, it was uneasy. Bas pushed and poked, and even though he was smiling, there was nothing lighthearted about him. Instead, there was an implicit cruelty to each phrase. As if he were trying to inflict pain.

  Letting out a breath, he glanced back at me before watching the road again. “Harris, Edward, and Fredrick.”

  “Old fashioned names for the oldest royal family in New Louisiana.”

  Weird, since my parents had to go back in time to have me. I had so many questions, but I wasn’t going to ask them just yet. It seemed like just sitting here was enough to get Bas’s tongue wagging.

  The roads were different. Smoother and red. There was none of the cracked pavement I was used to seeing on I-10. Everything looked cleaner, fresher. The sky even seemed bluer. Whatever it was my generation had messed up, it seemed to have worked out by this time.

  There were no houses along this way. Trees lined each side of the road, whipping by so fast that looking out the window made me ill. A quick glance at the screen near Alex didn’t give me any idea of how quickly this car went.

  Bas and Alex were quiet now, maybe because I didn’t rise to the bait. I skimmed my palms over my jeans before studying them closer. Their clothing wasn’t so different from mine, but the material was—both in color and texture.

  Both Alex and Bas wore similar shirts. They were tight-fitting and a little bit shiny, reminding me of the sort of clothing athletes wore. I couldn’t remember if Alex wore jeans—I didn’t think so, because I had the impression of his shirt and pants being the same greenish-beige.

  If I were to jump out of the car, I probably wouldn’t stick out too badly. Not like, say, jumping back in time to the Renaissance, like the masks had hinted at earlier.

  The car slowed, banking gently off the one-way road to loop around a bridge. I sat up straighter, craning my neck to see where we were.

  Just like the drive here, nothing was familiar. “Where are we?”

  “Opelousas.”

  “Really?” We must have been going faster than I realized to get this far.

  “We call it St. Landry, now,” Alex said. “It’s the capital of New Louisiana.”

  “Not Baton Rouge?”

  “Baton Rouge burned,” Bas said. “The bigger towns and cities were targets when the empire was trying to wrestle control.”

  A chill zipped down my spine. Scott had said it wasn’t a bad time, just a different time, but talk of an empire brought to mind Star Wars and Death Stars. From the way Scott, and now Bas, spoke about it—the empire didn’t control this part of the world. Of course, in the old days—old to me, I meant—Great Britain was known as an empire, so I supposed not all empires were bad.

  Inwardly I winced, remembering my world history when it came to “the sun never sets on the British empire,” so maybe I should have qualified that thought. They weren’t all good or all bad.

  There. That was a thought I could live with.

  “You’re remarkably quiet for a girl who just traveled three hundred years into the future.” Bas faced me and gestured toward the outside world. “Don’t you want to know more? Like—which one of these homes are yours? What is expected of you? How has the world changed? I can’t decide if you’re overwhelmed or just stupid.”

  Alex slammed his palm against the screen and the car jerked to a stop. Two cushioned arms burst out of the back of the driver’s seat, keeping me from slamming against it. “Enough, Bas.”

  “Relax, cousin. I’m just curious.”

  “She’s my daughter, so have some respect. Don’t forget who is in charge of this family.” He glared at the man, and Bas glared back, for the first time rid of his perpetual smirk. “I’ve had—”

  A sudden flash of blinding light cut him off, and instinctively, I covered my eyes. Bas and Alex cried out as the car lifted into the air and then fell back to earth with a crash. My head whipped against the window hard enough my teeth slammed together. “Grab her,” Alex said and the door next to me opened.

  Bas’ grip around my wrist burned like it had before, but it only lasted for a second. The next thing I knew, he was ripped away, flying through the air as I blinked against the bright spots still dotting my vision.

  “Chaney.”

  Matthew.

  My knees went weak with relief. He took my hand, dragging me forward, and then slung me over his shoulder the way he had before.

  “Ready,” he said in a low voice. Light surrounded us, brighter than before. So bright that even with my eyes closed, it felt like I was staring into the sun. And then it was dark.

  Matthew shifted me carefully until I was back on my feet. I felt his warm palms on my shoulders, and a chilly tingle traveled along my skin. He held me away from him and then wrapped me in his arms. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, wishing my sight would clear so I could see his face. His hands trembled as they stroked along my arms to my elbows.

  “Are you sure? They didn’t hurt you?”

  “No.” My voice cracked, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. This was a lot for a crazy girl to deal with. Time travel. A dead father who was actually alive. A family reunion with an annoying cousin. “Will they find me again? I don’t want—”

  Footsteps sounded, and I was jerked away from Matthew, who made a sound of protest. Scott and Robert pulled me into their arms; their breath bellowed from their lungs as their hands traveled all over me. “Are you hurt?” Scott asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I told you it was safe, Chaney. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “We promised we’d keep you with us,” Robert added. “I never expected…”

  “I’m okay.” I stepped back, pushing the heels of my hands against my eyes and then blinked. There was still a tiny dot or two, but at least their faces were clear. “What in the world is going on?”

  My masks exchanged a loaded glance.

  “That was my father,” I pointed over my shoulder, but this place was totally different than the one we’d just left. It was barren and stretched in either direction without a tree or shrub to break up the nothingness. “My father is supposed to be dead.”

  “We can explain,” Matthew said. “Let us.”

  My legs wobbled, and I locked my knees and crossed my arms, trying to affect toughness I didn’t feel. “Go on.”

  “First…” Scott pulled out the device he’d used back in my time. He held out his hand, waiting, and I put my hand in his. After he ran it along my skin, it ejected a new slip which he pulled free and handed to me. “Please.”

  I stuck it under my tongue. The second it melted, I could stand up straight and be certain I wouldn’t keel over. “Thank you.”

  “We wanted to wait until you arrived to tell you about your father. It was too much,” Robert said. He stared at the ground, his dark hair falling like a curtain around his face. I strode toward him, and with both hands, pushed the hair behind his ears. I wanted to see him when he s
poke, especially his expressions. His blue eyes met mine, and he lifted one side of his mouth. “We’re clones, Chaney. I am the two-hundredth and twelfth version to have this DNA. I’m category R, which means I have a skillset different than category M—like Matthew, or S—like Scott. This—” He gestured to the brown landscape, “This is what much of the world looks like. The world was poisoned, but it’s slowly returning to health. The fact that there is ground cover here, that’s good. So like Scott said, things aren’t so bad.”

  At some point during his speech, I began to pace. It wasn’t that they were clones. Or that the world was poisoned and New Orleans was underwater. It was that none of this fit together. I laughed, but it was bitter. “You know what’s crazy? I actually thought some of this was black and white. We had a connection, one that brought you to find me. And I had a choice to stay or go. So I chose to go. But now, there’s all this other noise, and it’s drowning out what I thought was simple.”

  “We would have told you about him, but only after you had a chance to get used to us and this time,” Scott’s blue eyes pleaded with me to understand.

  “But there’s more, isn’t there?” I asked. Maybe that was what was driving me crazy. “I know something bigger is happening.”

  “They’re coming,” Matthew said quietly, pointing to the horizon. Sure enough, a growing cloud of dust was headed in our direction.

  “Who is that?” I lifted my hand to my eyes, blocking the bright sun.

  “Friends of ours,” Robert replied. The wind picked up, as if whoever were coming toward us brought it with them. His hair blew around his head.

  The vehicle approaching us was a cross between a truck and a motorcycle. It was wide but balanced on only two wheels. It was rugged, with huge tires, and the man who drove sat low and nearly hidden in the front. Up close, it was much more tank than motorcycle, I decided, and then immediately wondered why anyone would need such a solid piece of defensive equipment.