Seth tilts his head thoughtfully, and Anaiya thinks he might just believe it, but Rehhd folds her arms and regards Anaiya coldly.
“Your first charge?” Rehhd’s voice is soft. Deadly.
Anaiya nods, her mind racing for ways to diffuse the situation and redirect suspicion away from herself.
“You tarnished your record in a fight that wasn’t yours.” Rehhd leaves the statement hanging in the air. Like an accusation. “Why?”
“Tequila?” It is a poor attempt at humour.
Seth rewards her with a grin but Rehhd’s not letting her off so easily. Eyes narrowed and lips pursed, Anaiya can see that she will pursue this unless she gets a satisfactory answer.
Her mind races to manufacture a reasonable justification, but she knows that each passing second only serves to heighten suspicion. With her pulse racing, she makes a snap decision to tell a kind of truth. “I didn’t want Seth to get dropped…”
The confession earns a smile from Seth.
“…and I really needed to wipe that smug, self-satisfied smile off the Peacekeeper.”
Seth barks a short laugh and even Rehhd’s face softens.
“I haven’t seen her before,” Seth says, addressing Rehhd.
“None of us have,” Rehhd replies, her interrogation of Anaiya forgotten. “Figure she must be a transfer.”
Seth frowns, nodding his agreement.
“The whole Area is being overtaken by outsiders,” Rehhd says, flicking a pointed glance at Anaiya, before turning to head into the izakaya. The ire is still there, but it has lost some of its sharpness.
“Play nice, Rehhd,” Seth calls after her.
Rehhd flashes a wicked grin over her shoulder. “You’re no fun any more, Seth.”
* * *
“REHHD SEEMS…feisty tonight,” Anaiya says, glancing around the izakaya.
It is a smaller space than the other izakaya she has been to since her deployment, but the sheer volume of patrons makes it impossible to focus on anything, or anyone, for too long. The room is a mayhem of Air celebration and debauchery. She waits for her usual Fire disapproval to emerge, but it never comes. Seth grabs her hand and instead she revels in the thrill of anticipation that skips along her skin.
Stay focussed, Anaiya.
But the call of the izakaya already hints at intoxication. Lights bounce and reverberate off mirrored walls as loud beats and sweet melodies swell through the packed room.
“Don’t pay any attention to Rehhd,” Seth replies. “She’s been a little high-strung lately.”
Don’t pay any attention to Rehhd.
He means it to be a comfort – something to alleviate her concerns – but the words circle in her mind, becoming a reprimand.
The only thing she should be doing is paying attention to Rehhd. It should be the thing that consumes her thoughts, fills her hours, directs her movements. That is her mission. Yet, here she is. Captivated by an entirely different Elemental.
A dense feeling, like shame but brighter, bubbles up inside her. She pushes it away, letting Seth lead her through the crowd.
The line to the bar is four rows deep – a compact collection of Elementals laughing, swaying, gossiping, flirting. Anaiya and Seth take their place amongst them, their bodies pressing together as the crowd pushes against them. The absence of personal space – the familiar no-go zone she had strictly maintained as a Peacekeeper – is immediately noticeable. She doesn’t step away, instead taking comfort in the stability of Seth against the crush of the crowd.
There is something about him – the quiet confidence, the way he inhibits a space. The way energy seems to gravitate to him. Swirl around him.
“Here.” Seth’s voice breaks into her thoughts. He holds out a tall glass fizzing with a black liquid.
Anaiya hesitates.
“It won’t hurt you, butterfly.” He is smiling again. Teasing her.
And just like that, complex thoughts and emotions are dispelled by the simple need to prolong this moment. Anaiya takes the glass from him and follows him to the nearest table. Reaching it, he pulls out a chair with a flourish, beckoning to her to sit down. It is a decidedly Air gesture that she finds oddly charming.
“So, where are the others?” she asks as he takes a seat next to her. “I thought this was a group rendezvous.”
Seth glances over his shoulder. “A few of them are with Rehhd…”
Anaiya follows his gaze to where her target sits, deep in conversation with a small group of animated Elementals.
“…Eamon is out of commission, obviously. And Kaide and Cressida are doing some last minute additions to a project they are working on.”
“So, it’s just us?”
“It’s just us.” He watches for her reaction, holding her gaze as that trademark curve of a smile grows on his face again. “Is that OK?”
No. It’s not OK, Anaiya. How will you keep track of Rehhd? How will you get useful intel for Niamh?
Seth quirks his head to the side. Watching her, waiting for her response.
How will you progress this mission if you’re sitting here all night with Seth? Staring into those eyes…Fixating on that irrepressible smile…
“It’s perfect.”
* * *
“WOW,” Anaiya breathes.
The room has fallen silent, or as silent as a packed izakaya full of vibrant Air Elementals can be.
A soft, melodic buzz still vibrates as the last notes of the performance fade to memory. A rush of dopamine floods her brain, and she rubs at her arms vigorously, shaking off the remnants of pleasure that continue to give her chills.
“That was amazing.”
Amazing. It is a word she has heard, but never used. Never felt. It comes with a lightness – an exhilaration that is as close to free-running as she has felt since her realignment.
“How do you feel?” Seth asks. “What do you feel?”
“Light,” she replies. “I feel as if I could float.”
Seth laughs. “Then I guess it works.”
Anaiya laughs, the synth alcohol making her loose, uninhibited. “What works?”
The noise in the izakaya starts to build again and Seth leans in close in order to be heard. “Kaide’s project. He’s been working on it for years…years. It’s like…like a phylogenetic tree of sounds.”
“Phylogenetic, huh? Someone paid attention during their conditioning.”
“Ha, ha,” he replies in good humour. “Yes. Phylogenetic. You know, the branches of genetic similarity.”
Anaiya does know. It is the basis upon which the Cooperative engineers new generations – merging the best genetics from donated sperm and eggs to create the required diversity among Otpor’s Elementals. Peacekeepers use their knowledge of it to understand criminal profiles and enhance future-searching. It is surprising to hear an Air Elemental use the term with familiarity.
“He’s developed some sort of application or device to group sounds based on likeness – to create aural haplotypes. It’s completely visionary. He’s spent the last year working on linking those haplotypes to emotional responses…Testing how certain alcohols and enhancers affect the raw response.”
Anaiya glances down at her half-empty glass. “This?”
“A pituarmagn,” he confides. “To amplify dopamine triggers.”
“And the performance?”
“Ella has been working with Kaide for the last three months, trying to build a piece that would work musically and biologically. Tonight was her debut.”
“So the music is a manipulation?”
It is a simple conclusion for Anaiya to make, but Seth frowns, that smile of his faltering. “A manipulation? No…”
The pause lengthens, his frown deepens. Anaiya watches uncertainty trace lines across his face. Her chest feels hollow. She recognises his affliction – understands what it is like to have your reality shattered when it collides with someone else’s.
“No?” she asks gently.
“No.” He is mo
re adamant, now. More certain. “Not a manipulation. An encouragement. A catalyst. Not a manipulation.”
Seth stares at her intently, each word spoken in earnest. As if to convince her of their truth.
She shrugs, unconvinced but unwilling to press further. Manipulation or catalyst – either way it makes her feel something she wouldn’t have otherwise. Just like her realignment has.
“All art is a catalyst, no?”
That makes him smile again. “Oui, butterfly. All art is a catalyst. All art triggers a response – raw or enhanced.”
He runs his finger down his own glass of pituarmagn, sluicing off beads of condensation that have formed on the chilled surface. Reaching across the table, he takes her palm in his hand and traces lines across the skin, leaving wet trails that glisten in the muted izakaya light.
Anaiya shivers in spite of herself, the sensation eclipsing the warm and fuzzy feeling left behind by the flood of synth alcohol in her bloodstream. Desire, thick and heavy, spikes through the dulled edges of her mind. All thoughts of Rehhd, Niamh and her mission obliterated. It is not the desire of a Fire Elemental, which burns hot and fast, dying quickly and cleanly. It is denser, more complex – pulling at her mind and not just her body, a heady mix of competing thoughts and emotions and sensations.
She craves it as much as she wants to run from it.
NINETEEN
IT IS LATE by the time Seth and Anaiya leave the izakaya and head home. Anaiya had lost sight of Rehhd early in the night, too distracted by Seth to notice, too inebriated to be concerned. But, now, with the sobering night air brushing against her, the gravity of her situation begins to weigh heavy.
So wrapped up in the tangled threads of her mind, Anaiya doesn’t see the dark-clad figures melding into the shadows ahead until they are less than two blocks away. Following the trajectory of her thoughts, her brain screams Peacekeepers! and she knows without glancing at her wristplate that curfew commenced hours ago.
In one fluid movement she flattens herself against the wall of the tall, terraced building to her left. In the next, she grabs at Seth’s sleeve and pulls him roughly to her. He stumbles and grunts, but she catches him before he catapults over his own feet and jams her palm over his mouth. Her right-hand grip has moved from his sleeve to his chest and, without moving her left from his mouth, pulls him closer. Confusion registers in his frown.
“Shhh,” she whispers tightly, slowly drawing her hand from his mouth.
He grabs hold of it, placing it next to the one on his chest.
Something else flares in his eyes and Anaiya’s belly warms in unconscious response. She shakes her head and looks pointedly to her left, to where the two concealed strangers still loiter.
Seth turns his head to follow her gaze. His reaction is unexpected. No shock or exaggerated stillness overcomes his posture. Instead, his fingers reach up to pull her face back towards his.
Anaiya shakes her head again, sterner, more urgently. They need to be still, avoid detection, become invisible. But Seth merely leans in closer, his forehead touching hers. His body presses heavier against hers, testing the barrier of her arms levelled against his torso. His hands brush over her scapula and run down her shoulders. In other circumstances, normal circumstances, she would hardly be aware of them. But her whole body is tense with anticipation and attuned to the slightest stimulation. She feels the light touch of his hands, smells the musty aroma of the building’s facade mingle with the clean citrus smell of his skin. And when he kisses her, she can taste the alcoholic echoes on his tongue.
The pure, perfect pleasure of it is distracting. A furtive glance to her left confirms the two figures are still ahead of them. “Seth,” she whispers insistently. “Two Peacekeepers are –”
Impossibly, he shakes his head. “They aren’t Peacekeepers, butterfly,” he says, before leaning in to kiss her again.
This time his grip tightens on her hips and, with slow and steady steps, he pulls her with him as he steps backwards into the muted light of the street. At first she resists, gripping his shirt and pulling him towards her, desperate to maintain their cover. He laughs, all the while continuing to pull her out into the street with him.
Moments later he breaks away and finally pauses to look down the street to the strange figures that have been haunting Anaiya’s peripheral vision. They are moving closer, gaining in size and definition with each stride they take. Anaiya grips his hand tightly, ready to run. Her feet itch with the need to escape, to remove herself from this dangerous situation and never look back. Seth maintains his casual stance and stillness.
Anaiya’s eyes are fixated on the advancing figures. Their dark kevlar makes it difficult for her to make out distinct movements and they almost appear to be floating towards her. Something about the vision settles uneasily in her mind, tickling in its unfamiliarity and wrongness.
And then it registers. They aren’t moving like Peacekeepers. They are too light on their feet, not so much striding towards Anaiya as they are drifting…dancing.
They aren’t Peacekeepers.
The fact is as simple as it is shocking. She watches them both closely as they step nearer, trying to decipher the true identities of the shadow dancers. The one to the right appears male and angles his shoulders forwards as he advances. There is something familiar in the action, a sense of disguising the true dimensions of the solid form it shields. When he quirks his head to his right, Anaiya gasps.
“Hello, Anaiya,” the soft voice sings to her in the quiet street.
Beat. Beat. Beat. Her heart betrays her panic.
“Hello, Kaide,” she manages to strangle from her constricted throat.
* * *
“WHAT IS THIS?” she asks Seth, her voice trembling with confusion, betrayal and the worst emotion that has yet to torment her. Harsher than jealousy. Deadlier than guilt.
Fear.
Kaide and his companion have arrived at the corner of the block where she stands, stiff and tense. Seth moves to greet them, Anaiya’s question left unanswered. She watches as he and Kaide engage in a familiar playful jostle before Seth picks up and swings the diminutive female Air Elemental around in wide circles. Anaiya works to calm her racing thoughts, trying desperately to rationalise the situation.
The breeze shifts, bringing with it a sweet, bitter scent she has smelled before. It radiates from the two kevlar-clad Air Elementals, dripping down Kaide’s wrist and scattered as invisible droplets in his companion’s hair.
“Cress, this is Anaiya,” Seth says, lowering the female to the ground and motioning back to Anaiya. “Anaiya, this is Cressida.”
She doesn’t respond. Her Fire identity is rapidly asserting itself, her mind reverting to a clinical observation of the scene before her. Cressida is a lustrum younger than Anaiya, the five-year difference noticeable in the giddy excitement emanating from the Premie’s presence.
At the sound of her name, Cressida falls into an exaggerated bow, arms flourishing before her.
“You didn’t tell me she was a Dancer,” she says to Kaide once she has righted herself.
“She’s not,” Kaide says with a slight frown, confused but drawn to Anaiya’s poised stance and soft feet.
Seth laughs, redirecting attention away from Anaiya.
“Anaiya is Music,” he says, a bright pleasure tingeing his words.
Cressida smiles widely and nods.
“Of course.” She laughs. “Music and Literature are the greatest companions.” A sly look flits across her features as she shares her gaze between Seth and Anaiya. “Although, Music and Dance are the most fun.”
Cressida and Seth laugh. Anaiya smiles tightly before she sees Kaide’s thoughtful gaze still on her athletic frame.
“What are you two doing out here?” she asks abruptly, keen to keep the focus away from her.
“You haven’t told her?” Kaide asks too loudly, shifting his stare to Seth.
Cressida’s smile falters.
“Told me what?” Anaiya as
ks, her soft voice a deadly counterpoint to Kaide’s.
“Kaide.” Seth squares off against the larger figure, his voice low and harsh. “Not now.”
“You haven’t vetted her, have you?” Kaide accuses.
“Told me what?” Anaiya repeats, her voice shifting to a lower register.
Cressida steps smoothly between them, blocking Seth from Anaiya’s gaze. “I think it’s better that we show her.”
Anaiya steps to her left, giving her room to view all three Air Elementals. Cressida, despite her small frame, stands tall and unflinching before Seth. Seth is tense, his right hand dragging trenches through his hair. Kaide, however, is completely focussed on Anaiya.
“Do you trust her?” he asks Seth without disengaging his focus.
Seth doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes shift from Cressida to Anaiya. She forces her heart to slow. He is looking for that thing inside her, the part of her that signals who she is and what she wants.
Anaiya’s breath becomes slow and shallow, waiting for him to see her Fire identity raging hot within her.
And then he simply nods. “She is one of us.”
* * *
CRESSIDA LEADS them through the softly lit streets, away from the Edges and towards the invisible boundary line that separates Precinct 17 from 18. The buildings begin to take on the eclectic feel of a hybrid precinct, where no one Element dominates. Galleries, bars and restaurants sit alongside functional administrative buildings and a handful of multi-storey residential apartments. Deep in curfew hours, the buildings and streets are dark and quiet, punctuated only by the occasional glow of light or snatch of raised voices from an opened apartment window.
The four of them stick to the shadows, Kaide walking with Cressida and regularly casting furtive glances back towards Seth and Anaiya. Cressida leans into Kaide to whisper something beyond Anaiya’s hearing, but otherwise they move silently.
Anaiya keeps her eyes firmly ahead, despite the occasional tug of Seth’s glances in her peripheral vision. The panic that rushed at her earlier has dissipated. It is replaced by a heavy awareness that comes with teeth, gnawing at her insides like rats at rotting meat.
Resistance: Divided Elements (Book 1) Page 16