The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Jacky and Madeline walked forward. She ran her fingertips over the life-sized sculpture of a swarm of butterflies in flight as they just begin to unfurl their wings.

  As though summoned, a shadow dropped over the group, and they came in a single drove.

  Every butterfly within a ten-kilometer radius descended, which was not uncommon when many Reflectives came together.

  However, they glided to Madeline, ignoring everyone else.

  Her arms rose unconsciously, and Ryan stepped back, allowing the precious Papilio namesake to surround her.

  Madeline didn't fight the hundreds of butterflies that landed on her arms, covering her head and face, and leaving pockets of space for her eyes.

  She appeared to be a living, breathing butterfly.

  Several heartbeats of beauty passed, while Beth held her breath at the spectacle.

  Then they were gone, launching as slowly and beautifully as they'd landed.

  Their soft wings sounded like rushing water and Beth closed her eyes, missing her zoo inside her domicile.

  Madeline gazed at them until the last one was beyond sight.

  “What the hell was that about?” Jacky asked, his words harsh, his eyes soft.

  “That is the greeting for our return to this building. The Cause.” Merrick's eyes were still on the sky.

  “What's ʽThe Causeʼ,” Jacky asked, stepping outside the covered entrance and looking at the etched words.

  “It is the reason Reflectives exists.”

  “Not always peaceably,” Beth said, studiously avoiding eye contact with Ryan.

  “Yeah, no shit. I totally got that issue,” Jacky said, his eyes on Ryan and Beth. “But why did they all cover Maddie and that?”

  “She's new. They welcome her.”

  “They recognize her as a Reflective?” Ryan asked. “But she claims Dimensional as her talent.”

  “Let's go,” Merrick said quickly.

  “No—wait,” Ryan said and the group hesitated.

  Beth wanted to get away in case Ryan went sideways and suddenly caused another problem with two civilians at its center. She and Merrick had brought the Threes. Ultimately, she and Merrick were responsible.

  “Yeah. You guys have to find a mirror or something. Maddie here”—Jacky swiped a thumb in her direction—“just think it, and off she shoots.” Jacky shook his head, dumping unruly hair over his eyes.

  Madeline was still watching the hole in the sky the butterflies had left.

  Ryan's lips flattened. “What the Hades?”

  Madeline stepped back from him. Kennet and Calvin, who had been silent, wore the same shocked expressions.

  “What?” Jacky said to the shocked faces. “Did I step on somebody's puppy or something?”

  Beth nodded. “No—but close.”

  Ryan drew near to Madeline but didn't touch her. Calvin and Kennet sidled up and flanked her without being asked.

  Beth followed them into the building she had not revisited since the finals—when Ryan had tried to murder her.

  *

  Beth passed through the three-meter-tall doors last, taking the rear position automatically.

  Rachett stood, a furrow like a canyon centered between his eyes.

  A minute of absolute silence rolled out. Even Jacky seemed to sense how much he needed to not shoot his mouth off right then.

  “What in the blue fuck is happening here?”

  Rachett was using English. Things were bad if he had switched to the Three's mother tongue.

  Rachett's face cut in Merrick's direction.

  “Report—and it better be good.”

  “Sir,” Merrick took a deep breath, and Beth thought he seemed tired. They hadn't slept for going on forty-eight hours.

  “Jasper and I completed the Zondorae mission successfully.”

  “Well, thank fuck. At least you didn't screw that six ways to Sunday.”

  Rachett's command of English was profound and made Beth feel like an infant by comparison. He was pissed and using the entire arsenal he had at his disposal.

  It was impressive.

  Ryan, Calvin, and Kennet stood at attention, as did Beth.

  “We've had a time break, and it's been thirty-two days since your jump.”

  Merrick's face mirrored Beth’s surprise.

  “How?” Beth asked.

  She'd never heard of such a big divergence between her native sector and Three. That was why Ryan was already back from One.

  He'd simply already served his incarceration.

  “We're not sure, but it's an unmitigated clusterfuck.”

  “Merrick,” Rachett barked.

  “We had several altercations…”

  Rachett's eyes drove down his form.

  “You look well.”

  “Yes, sir, but Jasper…”

  “What happened?”

  Rachett had not yet acknowledged the Threes.

  Merrick told the story in great detail. He stuck to the facts and kept it brief.

  Even condensed, it sounded awful.

  “This is a major problem.”

  Merrick stood stoic; a rock of honed discipline.

  Beth didn’t feel very disciplined. She was beaten, had suffered various injuries, and felt tired to the core.

  She wanted to sink into the deep basin in her cleansing room and allow the lavender salts to soothe her nerves. The butterflies would land on the copper rim, and she could pet their iridescent wings and…

  “Jasper!” Rachett yelled, and the echo of his voice pierced her ears.

  She'd been sleeping where she stood.

  “Yes, sir.” She snapped herself out of exhaustion with great effort.

  “Do you concur with Merrick's rendition of events?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You missed your jump—for the undead.”

  Oh Principle.

  Beth felt her cheeks burn and fought to not look away. “Yes… sir. He seemed to be a nobleman.”

  “You mean in stature or integrity?”

  Beth hesitated for a handful of seconds.

  “Both. I—we…” Merrick gave the barest nod. “We couldn't leave him to the devices of those criminals.”

  “What did you do to the perpetrators?” Rachett asked softly.

  “We subdued them, sir.”

  “I bet ya did,” Jacky said from his corner of the room, and Beth stifled a groan.

  Rachett's eyes narrowed on Jacky, and he grinned back at the commander.

  Jacky obviously had no sense of self-preservation.

  “How do you fall into the picture, young man?”

  Jacky rolled his expressive green eyes and tensed.

  Rachett hid a smile—poorly.

  “I'm with her.” He pointed a thumb toward where a reticent Madeline stood. “She's like you guys. Once I found out your dudes were Dimensionals, I knew she'd just keep getting beat-downs now that Chance isn't here to help her anymore. They couldn't stand that retard Chuck, either. Took her right outta there, and now she's safe. With her people.”

  Rachett paced out to where the group stood.

  “Is that right?”

  Jacky gave a look at Commander Rachett as though he were a little dumb around the edges.

  He wasn't. Beth knew him to be very bright, an astute observer of people from every sector.

  “Yeah, that's about all of it,” Jacky said to everyone. “And if anyone's flinging out free food, I'm totally on board for that.”

  He winked.

  Rachett flung his head back and laughed. He clapped then wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. Beth met Merrick's eyes and swept her gaze to the other three.

  Nope. No one knew why Rachett believed something was so funny here.

  Rachett clapped Jacky on the back. “You bet. We'll get you fixed up with something shortly. Just a little more patience.”

  Jacky's vision narrowed on Rachett but he said okay.

  “Younglings…” he mused aloud then turned to Madel
ine, his face falling into the neutral lines he usually wore.

  She held her ground but was a nervous, quaking mess.

  “Come here, female.”

  Madeline shook her head and scooted backward. “No... please.”

  Instead of approaching, Rachett leaned against his massive desk and stared at her, solid arms crossed across his chest.

  “Why are you afraid of me?”

  “It's not you, bud—it's all dudes.”

  Rachett leveled his eyes at Jacky. “This Chuck—I take it his assault wasn't an isolated incident.”

  Jacky sobered. “No—sir, it was pretty constant.”

  “Madeline DeVere, come to me.”

  “He won't hurt you, Madeline,” Beth said, and felt an abiding sadness that she had to qualify it.

  Madeline moved away from the Reflective, taking one tentative step after another.

  Finally she stood in front of Rachett, who towered over her.

  He put both his hands out and Beth watched her breathe. One-two-and a third.

  She put her hands in his and their eyes met.

  Rachett began his assessment.

  It took three minutes.

  When he was done, he put a hand on her shoulder. His face lowered to his chest, and it hung there for a minute while Beth and the others stood silently.

  Finally, he stood, wrapping his arm around Madeline's shoulders.

  “She won't be returning to the debauchery of that life.”

  Madeline swung to face him.

  “She has always been Reflective. The poisonous concoction administered by the Zondoraes only allowed it to come to fruition. They interfered with her body's natural path.”

  “Pricks,” Jacky muttered, and Rachett nodded in sage agreement.

  “My mom…” Madeline swept her arm to the wide lapel of his navy-colored uniform, the tip of her finger sweeping over the iridescent butterfly.

  “She's unprotected. She's naked without me.”

  “We will make that right. But first, several things need addressing.”

  “Merrick, Jasper, you two stay here.” Rachett's gaze locked on the other Reflectives. “Take the Three's to the chow hall.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They began to walk away, and Rachett called out to Ryan, who turned.

  “I trust you and Jasper got on well.”

  Ryan said nothing.

  “Did you learn your lesson on Sector One, Reflective Ryan?”

  It was asked as a question but truly wasn't.

  “Yes, sir,” Ryan said then clamped his lips into a thin line.

  “Good,” Rachett replied, “because there won't be a repeat stay.”

  Beth watched Ryan's hate pour from his eyes before they turned in opposite directions.

  She and Merrick stood in front of the commander.

  His eyes pierced them to the marrow.

  “Now tell me what the fuck really happened.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rachett had the telltale flutter in his jaw of about a hundred shades of pissed off.

  Jeb couldn't blame him.

  They'd fucked the mission on about a million different levels.

  However, the one redemption had been the plug against the scientists. Christopher and Amanda had put the placebo in place of the mass sterilizer.

  Without Jeb and Jasper's interference, there would have been zero children born in Sector Three for that generation. The faction of Zero Populationists on Three had some good points—in theory. But in actuality, their world would die out if their plan succeeded. Even though he and Jasper had accomplished their task during the last jump, the next one hundred years in Sector Three would not be ideal.

  Reflectives could jump time, too, though the ability was sparingly used for obvious reasons.

  Twelfth: disturb not the continuum.

  However, sometimes the whole Principle-damned thing needed to be fixed, like when two scientists try their hand at futuristic mass infanticide.

  “You know the caliber of the mess you've made?”

  Jeb could only nod his assent.

  “And you're telling me this group of bikers from Three broke up Jasper so badly you had to jump to heal her?”

  Jasper's eyes fell.

  “I appreciate that he did.”

  “Did he tell you how many kilometers he carried you?”

  Jasper's nearly black eyes swept to Jeb's. “No.”

  “Four,” Rachett said.

  Jasper's face fell farther, if that were possible.

  “Sir, I already feel like canine crap about it.”

  Rachett scrubbed his head in an irritated swipe.

  “Damn, damn—damn.”

  “Is it the Threes?” Jeb asked.

  “It's all of it.” Rachett swung his hand around, encompassing the general area. “I need a follow-up jump to make sure the scientists get eliminated. At least the one—”

  “Joe Zondorae.”

  Rachett nodded. “Threes will take him out of the equation.”

  Jasper put a finger to her lip, debating something. “If I remember my history, Gary Zondorae becomes a zombie, and brother dear…”

  “He gets eliminated by them?”

  “Sounds right,” Jasper commented.

  Rachett was grim. “You jump and fucking observe.”

  “Do either of you know what that means?” Disbelief at their abilities filled every line of his face.

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

  “No more bringing back stray Threes. No more getting your asses handed to you and almost getting a fresh trainee killed. And no more killing Threes.”

  Jeb fought for composure. “They needed killing.” Jeb couldn't shake the image of their fists thundering into Jasper.

  Rachett gazed at Jeb for a heartbeat longer, then turned sharp attention to Jasper.

  “How did you like your first mission?”

  Jeb saw the emotions like a spinning kaleidoscope cover her face: shame, anxiety, fear, and determination.

  She really needed to learn how to school her emotions.

  “That good, eh?” Rachett asked, but he was grinning.

  “I want to go again, sir.”

  “And you will.” His gaze slid to Jeb. “And you'll do better at avoiding these Principle-damned Threes.”

  “Sir,” Jeb began.

  Jasper turned to him, the struggle for a blank face failing her.

  Jeb's request to change partners was on the tip of his tongue. Jasper even helped him, as was her way, by saying nothing—not a speck of a plea in her eyes.

  Jeb decided and it was based for the wrong reasons.

  Yet, they felt right.

  “Thanks for the opportunity, sir.”

  Jasper's face showed her surprise.

  “Welcome.” He jerked his jaw toward the door they'd entered an hour ago. “Go grab some food and babysit that smart-ass Three.”

  Jeb asked, “Yes, what about him? And the girl?”

  Rachett was thoughtful—pensive.

  “The girl remains.” His head dipped, and the stubble of hair at his temples showed silver. He cupped his chin.

  “Her assessment was disturbing.”

  His pale eyes never wavered.

  “She has many healing injuries,” Jeb conceded, sick to his stomach at the thought of what he'd sensed.

  Reflectives’ assessments were normally constrained to the superficial. But like so much, touch deepened it to a sort of tactile telepathy.

  Rachett shook his head in reluctant denial. “In good conscience, I can't return her to that environment.”

  “Sir.”

  Rachett lifted his chin. “Reflective Jasper.”

  “Is she…” Jasper was struggling to spit it out. “Is she too broken to be saved?”

  They were quiet, and their silence had substance, standing between them thickly.

  “I don't know,” Rachett finally said.

  Jeb nodded. “Where will you—keep her?”
>
  Rachett and Jeb looked at Jasper.

  “Oh, for Principle's sake!” Jasper said, exasperated.

  “Because I'm female? It sucks to be me, unless somehow that gender thing pans out?”

  Rachett's brows lowered. “Reflective Jasper.”

  Jasper stiffened her spine.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jeb thought she still looked mighty pissed.

  “You have a unique historic perspective, do you not?”

  Jeb knew how much Jasper had suffered and how unfairly she had been treated. Who knew the small abuses she'd suffered over the years. Jeb had not been oblivious to the defensive wounds that had healed faster because of their jumps, though some of the marks were scars.

  Jeb thought of Ryan and wanted to punch him back to Sector One.

  Rachett knew Jasper’s history—he'd watch her develop since her fifth cycle. They both understood that her Sector One blood aided her survival in the hostile environment of the Reflectives.

  A combative Reflective that was also female had a hard row to hoe.

  Jasper pegged her hands on her hips and stood quietly.

  She and Rachett seemed to exchange words without speaking.

  “I guess,” she finally admitted.

  “Excellent,” Rachett said. “Madeline DeVere can be your ward.”

  There was a lengthy pause.

  “When you execute your return jump, I would order that the Three male—Chuck?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jeb said.

  “He must be eliminated.”

  Sixth: take life only in defense of another.

  “Don't be so shocked, Merrick.” Rachett's icy gaze landed on them both. “It isn't the first time the directive has been modified.”

  Modified.

  He stood, indicating they should go.

  “You're dismissed.”

  Jeb and Jasper began to walk out.

  “Reflectives,” Rachett said in a low voice.

  They turned with yes sirs on their tongues.

  “It shall not be the last,” he said, switching to Latin and dumping the Three slang in one fell swoop.

  *

  Beth transferred the pack to her left shoulder out of habit. Unlike Merrick, she was right-hand dominant, and even a rookie Reflectives knew not to encumber their fighting arms with anything other than a weapon.

  “I can't tell you how much I appreciate you… putting me up,” Madeline said.