The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3)

by Alicia Kat Vancil

  “Patrick is not a Kakodemoss agent, I can assure you,” Kiskei said with a deadly calm.

  Well, not anymore anyways, a voice said derisively within my head.

  “Bullshit! I was fighting him four years ago,” Kale snapped back. “I got him square in the back of the skull, and then that other one showed up.”

  You, the voice said with loathing. I remember you. That hurt like a—

  Sudden clarity slammed into me like a tidal wave. The voice in my head—the one that had been whispering snide comments—was Aku.

  And he finally gets it, Aku stated condescendingly. Gods, that took a really long time.

  I jerked my eyes toward Kale, recognizing the savage glint in his eyes. Those eyes—the only feature that Aku had seen of Kale before the end. Before Aku had been damaged. Before he had been locked away. Before he had become me. And I couldn’t tell in that one moment who Aku hated more—me or Kale.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t seem to form the words. But the look on my face—in my eyes—must have been enough.

  “So you do remember!” Kale growled as he lunged to take another swipe at me. “I lost some of my best friends to you bastards!”

  “Kale, I believe you met Aku. This is Patrick,” Kiskei stated firmly as he put the flat of his palm against Kale’s chest.

  “They’re the same person,” Kale said with a sneer, his lip curling up.

  “That’s…debatable,” Isha said with a snort.

  Kiskei let out a huff, and continued. He was still placing himself as a rather obvious barrier between Kale and me. “Kale, I’d like you to meet Patrick Centrina Galathea.”

  “What?!” Kale sputtered, finally stunned enough to pull his eyes from me.

  “The person you were just trying so valiantly to throttle to death is Josh and Misaki’s younger son, Patrick. Who also so happens to have just married Alex’s daughter Nualla,” Kiskei informed him calmly.

  “You’re shitting me,” Kale said, his mouth hanging open in shock.

  “Nope, you just walked into a whole mess of soap opera tripe,” Damian pointed out almost gleefully in what sounded like a heavy Irish accent.

  “Yeah… So let’s try not to kill a member of the royal family the first day back, okay?” Kiskei said as he patted Kale on the shoulder.

  Kiskei had tried to cover it with a grin, but I could hear the lie in his voice. Because I was fairly certain that he knew exactly which of us would win in a fight. And apparently Kale hadn’t missed the insinuation either.

  “You don’t think I can take him, do you?” Kale asked as he folded his arms, the muscles so large that he could barely cross them.

  “No, Kale, I don’t,” Kiskei stated, his stare unwavering. “Because all your strength doesn’t mean a damn if you can’t catch him in the first place. In fact, the only one who’s probably even remotely fast enough to take Patrick on is Parker.”

  Kale huffed derisively. “That I would love to see.”

  Which is how twenty minutes later, I ended up standing across from Parker wearing a set of practice gear, and holding a bokken.

  A Match Made in Darkness

  Saturday, November 10th

  PATRICK

  We had been going at it for several minutes when Parker backed me into a corner. And I could see it in her eyes, the moment she thought she had me. That she didn’t realize that it was a trap.

  I could sense the wall behind me—sense that it was just the right distance away—and so I sprung into action. I turned and bounded off the wall, leaping high into the air, and flipped over Parker’s head. I landed in a low crouch just behind her, whipping my bokken under her feet. Parker hit the ground with a painful-sounding huff, and I rolled forward onto my knees. Pressing the blade of my wooden practice katana to her throat.

  The room was silent for the span of several heartbeats before Kiskei broke the quiet. “I think I have made my point.”

  “I’ll say,” Simon blurted out. “That was bloody brilliant.”

  Kiskei didn’t comment back, just looked over at me, and nodded one quick short nod. I pulled the bokken from Parker’s throat, and slumped back. My whole body was shaking, and I felt a bit nauseous.

  During the whole bout I had felt him seeping into my body—Aku. I could feel him in the swiftness of my movements. The sureness of the strokes of my bokken. The tactical planning that had resulted in me as the victor. And it scared me to death. That given even the slightest opening, he had surged forward. Taking me over. Pushing me aside. But the most frightening thing of all was that he had been the voice within my head all along.

  A hand thrust into my face, and I looked up to see Parker. I had expected to see anger in her eyes or even embarrassment, but I hadn’t expected to see thinly-veiled fear. She, more than any of them, seemed to truly understand just how outmatched they all were against a monster like me.

  As Parker pulled me to my feet, the front door of the temple creaked loudly again, and Kiskei turned toward it. “It sounds like our last member has just arrived.”

  I looked up to see who it was. At this point I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Roy or Nikki or—

  Kira! Aku practically shouted within my head.

  She walked into the room, her eyes drifting over all of us, looking so very much like Nualla that it stung. I should have seen it coming, and I wanted to kick myself for not realizing it sooner. Of course it was her. It was always going to be her. Because Kira was like me. A deadly blade sharpened into the perfect weapon.

  As Aku’s memories of Kira flashed erratically behind my eyes, I looked at the other Amurai. Simon and Isha displayed no expression whatsoever. Either because they had no opinion or because they were purposefully concealing them. In sharp contrast, James looked a bit shocked. But not nearly as much as his brother, Damian, whose mouth was hanging open. His eyebrows raised as far as they could possibly go.

  And Kale, well…Kale’s face was fixed in a scowl, either because he couldn’t control his expressions like Simon and Isha, or because he didn’t give enough of a fuck to bother.

  “Let me guess, she’s somehow not a Kakodemoss agent either, right?” Kale said in the least welcoming way possible.

  We had been practicing for hours when we had finally stopped for a late lunch break. And it had become clear from the division of the groups that Kale didn’t want anything to do with me or Kira. And based on Kira’s body language, I was fairly certain the feeling was mutual.

  “Okay, new pairings,” Kiskei said as he stood, and dusted off his hands. “Older members with newer. Simon and Shawn. Isha and James. Parker and Kira. Patrick and Kale. And Damian with me.”

  “I’m not working with him,” Kale stated as he folded his arms, and leaned back against the wall.

  “If we are to be a team, Kale, we had better start acting like one,” Kiskei countered firmly.

  “Ha! May the Kakodaemons give birth before I ever trust either of them,” Kale scoffed derisively.

  “Someone is grouchy today,” Isha said as she arched her back and stretched. “What’s the matter, Kale, afraid he’ll best you again in front of us all?” she taunted.

  “Today was just a lucky shot,” Kale mumbled with disdain. “I got him before and he knows it.”

  Lucky shot my ass, Aku growled within my head.

  “You seem to be operating under the mistaken assumption that because you got him that once, it makes you equal to them,” Kiskei said with a deadly calm coating his words.

  “And?” Kale said mockingly as he stood. “We’ve been doing this longer than they’ve even been alive. I’d pin our experience against their abilities any day. We’re not Nikk.”

  I could see the tension rise up Kiskei’s shoulders and the contained fury in his eyes. But it was the emotion that broke
past his calm that caught my attention. Apparently it had caught Simon’s attention too.

  “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Kiskei. Don’t take the bait,” Simon said as he put a hand on Kiskei’s shoulder.

  “I thought matching Patrick against Parker would be enough to prove to you just how outclassed we all are, Kale,” Kiskei stated as he took a few steps toward him. “But apparently not.” He stopped just in front of Kale, folding his arms across his chest. “Patrick, Kira, you’re up next,” Kiskei stated without turning his head in our direction.

  “What?!” I coughed, nearly choking. And I could have sworn I heard Aku echoing the same word within my head.

  “You two are up to spar next, just to make sure that no one else has delusions of their own superiority,” Kiskei said as he turned and walked to the wall with the weapons rack. He then dropped to the ground—sitting cross-legged—and looked at us expectantly. “Whenever you both are ready.”

  I faced Kira—the wooden bokken in my hands. And I knew, without being able to remember, that we had done this an uncountable number of times in the past. And the familiarity of it was unsettling.

  Kira rolled her shoulders back, adjusting her grip on two wooden wakizashi, never taking her eyes from mine. Watching me. Daring me to move first. It was like staring down a panther.

  I sucked in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. I couldn’t just stand here all day, might as well get it over with.

  Yeah, any day now would be great, Aku said snarkily from within my head.

  “Shut up,” I grumbled under my breath.

  “What?” Kira asked, confusion tinting her face.

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head clear before I dipped it an inch or so. “You ready?”

  A deadly smile spread across her lips. “Always.”

  And with a jolt the two of us were off across the floor, swirling like a storm. Me a mirror to her movements like a dark shadow. Our wooden blades an extension of our arms—our souls.

  We moved past each other like water, our wooden blades slicing through the air. Lashing at each other in vicious, lightning-quick movements. Like two whirling storms of death.

  Something whizzed past my ear and I shifted my body to the side, but it did nothing to shatter my concentration. I couldn’t falter, couldn’t let her get an opening. Kira moved with deadly force, her movements so smooth and fluid they were like a beautiful dance. A dance of death.

  I took a gamble and deliberately left an opening as I swung my wooden sword past her. Kira took the bait, and flicked her wooden blade toward me. But she extended herself just the tiniest bit too far, giving me an opening. My bokken slammed into her wooden wakizashi and I knew in that moment that she was going down.

  I landed on top of Kira, my knees straddling her hips, my bokken to her throat. But I didn’t think for a second that I had won. Because I could feel her other wooden wakizashi against my gut.

  A dangerous grin spread across her face when she saw that I realized she had me just as much as I had her. And it was then that I finally realized that she truly had been my perfect match. Not because I had loved her. Or because she was good for me. But because she was created, like me, to be a monster.

  And with a sudden paralyzing force, I remembered that day. That last day we had been together. That day that seemed so close and yet so far away. That day when I had pressed her body against the wall. In that small corner near the locker rooms where the cameras didn’t quite reach. I had kissed her until my lips hurt, and still she had wanted more. I had wanted more. And now we were together again. She was right here—finally right here—and I could—

  I leaned closer, the urge to press my lips to hers overwhelming all my other thoughts. And she looked back at me, the confusion giving way to something else.

  Kira, mai Chan, Aku’s voice said within my head. I have missed you more than—

  “Holy fuck!” Damian snorted, and the spell between Kira and me was broken.

  The look of desperate longing slipped from Kira’s face, and she shoved me off of her. “You always did like to be on top.”

  Kira! Aku called out, the sound heart-wrenching and horrible in the same breath.

  And I stayed where I had landed on the floor, a little caught off guard by her reaction. There was an odd cruelness to her that hadn’t been there before. I just knew it. I didn’t know how, but I did. And that probably unsettled me the most, that I could know things without being able to actually remember them.

  A shadow spread across me, and I looked up to see Kiskei standing over me. “How many bullets did I fire at you?” he asked abruptly.

  “What?” I asked, just staring at him. Somehow during the bout he had acquired a strange-looking gun.

  “During the match, how many bullets did I fire at you?” he asked again with an arched brow.

  “Thirteen,” my mouth answered seemingly of its own volition.

  “And how many hit you?”

  I paused, then looked at the small collection of rubber bullets littering the mats around me. “None.”

  Kiskei didn’t take his eyes from mine, a strange excitement flickering in them. “And how many pieces make up the mosaic in the other room?”

  “5,873, why?” I stated in confusion, and then the strangeness of it all hit me in the chest.

  My mind was doing it again. Collecting details without me even realizing it. I had always thought my nearly eidetic memory was just a weird little quirk. But now…now I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  I swallowed hard, my heart beating recklessly fast in my chest. It was a lot to admit that you were afraid of yourself. Of what you could do.

  Kiskei didn’t answer, just turned to the rest of the Amurai and held out one hand toward me and Kira. “I rest my case.”

  The room was silent for several moments before Isha coughed. “So what you’re saying is basically, we’re all royally screwed.”

  “Oh fun, it’s like London all over again,” Simon said, less than thrilled as he ran his hand down his face.

  “If you think we have no chance of winning, what are we even doing here, Kiskei?” Kale grunted as he scowled at him.

  Kiskei looked back at him for one unbelievably long moment before he answered, “Because ignoring danger does not make it any less deadly.”

  Holding the Darkness at Bay

  Saturday, November 10th

  PATRICK

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as I closed my wooden locker in the guy’s locker room at the Temple of Kalona. At six we had all stopped for the day, and hit the locker rooms for showers. And now the only people still left in the guy’s locker room were me and Shawn, and Shawn had been standing in front of his open locker for a while, just staring into it.

  “You’re really fucking scary, you know that?” Shawn said in a quiet voice, not taking his eyes from his locker.

  “Come on, Shawn, it’s me—”

  He finally looked at me, and there was fear behind his blue eyes. “Patrick, you didn’t just not get hit by those rubber bullets. You dodged them before they even reached you. Like you knew exactly where Kiskei was going to fire them.”

  “It was just luck,” I said trying to shrug it off, but even I didn’t really believe that. And the unbelievably dubious look Shawn gave me said he didn’t either.

  “I’m still me,” I said in a small, pleading voice. “No matter what I can do, I’m still me.”

  Shawn’s expression turned unreadable, and he closed his locker. “One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that that person you thought you were was a lie.”

  He walked past me, but paused when he reached the door. He didn’t turn around, just kept his eyes focused straight ahead. “If you don’t, you’re going to get someone killed.”

  I stood there for a
long time after he left, unable to make myself move. He was right. I hated it, but he was right. Because no matter how fast or how far I ran, I would never be able to escape my past. To escape Aku. To escape myself.

  TRAVIS

  I had spent the last nine days trying to figure out how to tell Patrick about me and Nualla. About our past. About what I now knew for certain had actually happened. I couldn’t pretend anymore that this was something I could just bury under a smile and pretend it never happened. Pretend it wasn’t really destroying me. But as the days ticked by, I realized just how royally screwed I was. Because there was really no good way to say, Oh hey, I slept with your wife. But it’s okay, because it was four years ago when I thought you were dead.

  I stared up at the collection of photos covering the ceiling above my bed, and let my mind wander. Filling my head with good memories before I closed my eyes. And trying, as I had so many times before, to hold the darkness at bay.

  I could nearly feel the weightlessness of sleep creeping in when Patrick asked suddenly from the doorway, “Are you awake?”

  My eyes shot open, and I jerked my head toward him. Since he had woken up from having the device removed from his back, something had changed in him, and now he moved as silently as a ghost.

  “Where have you been all day?” I asked a little too harshly because he had startled me.

  Patrick paused for a second, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. Finally they darted to the side as he leaned against the door frame. “I was hanging out with Shawn,” he answered, his eyes still avoiding mine.

  A lie? Maybe, but not completely. But more importantly, why did he feel he needed to lie to me at all? How many more dark demons did he have that I hadn’t already seen in the past few months?