Jaxon Prayer (Jaxon Prayer Trilogy Book 1)

by Rachel West

  The click of metal draws my attention back to Jaxon. He crouches in front of the doors to the apartment that run floor to ceiling all in glass. Jaxon fiddles with something on the ground then the two doors slide outwards, offering us entrance. I marvel at the technology, because even something so simple is kept from the rest of us in Haven.

  Jaxon strides into the building like it is his own home. He slaps his hand against one wall and lights ignite the room. I gasp at my surroundings. The room is nothing but openness. The ceiling arches up three times my height. The grey walls pay homage to the large black couches that center the room. One entire wall, black now, reveals what I know to be a giant television screen. The living area is the size of my entire apartment, and rooted in each wall is another door I can only imagine leads to greater and grander rooms. Did Jaxon grow up in a home like this? Is this where he comes from? What he is?

  Seeing him here, surrounded by luxury, I can tell it’s where he belongs. But then I remember the way he stretches out on my couch, the hint of a smile on his lips, and the casual way he sits at my tiny kitchen table, legs folded up beneath him, crunching away at an apple gone soft. Maybe, just maybe, Jaxon belongs a little bit there as well.

  When I’ve finally taken in enough I turn my eyes to Jaxon who’s watching me with a question in his eyes.

  “What?” I ask defensively. I can’t help it that the Millennials keep all the beautiful things for themselves. A place like this couldn’t even be found in the richest parts of Haven proper.

  “Wait here.”

  “Okay,” I say as Jaxon turns without waiting for my answer. He strides to the door in the far corner of the room. He quietly depresses the silver handle and slides the door open without a sound.

  Even though he told me to stay here, I am too curious to wait like ordered. I tiptoe up behind Jaxon; the soft carpet muffles the sound of my feet and Jaxon is too focused on sneaking around to notice me following him. I creep up and peer through the open door. The room beyond is a bedroom, a large, ornate bed centered in the room surrounded on three sides by windows that stretch floor to ceiling.

  “Wake up asshole,” Jaxon says. He grabs something from the floor and throws it at the bed. A soft thump pays tribute to his aim.

  “What the Hell, man,” A shadow forms on the bed, discarding warm blankets for cool air and a dark room. “Jaxon?” he asks, then again repeats again with surety. “Jaxon!” The other boy leaps from the bed and charges straight for Jaxon.

  Gasping, I throw the bedroom door open and rush inside. With one hand I fumble blindly against the wall, searching for a light panel and I reach the other I instinctively reach for the blade at my waist. As the lights flicker on it takes a moment for me to realize Darren is not attacking Jaxon -- he’s hugging him.

  “Enough, enough,” Jaxon says, pushing lightly at Darren.

  “I thought you were dead, you idiot. Everyone’s saying you’ve been kidnapped.”

  Jaxon shrugs as I cough lightly behind them trying to ignore the thought that as far as the Millennials are concerned, I’m probably the one who kidnapped Jaxon. I shoot a glare at Jaxon who promised me no one would be looking for him. I knew the lie for what it was, but I felt vindicated by hearing the truth. Jaxon responds with an innocent smile on his face, a look that tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Darren turns, his eyes widening as he spots me hovering awkwardly in the door.

  “Darren, this is --“ Jaxon pauses and looks hesitantly at me. “Uhm.” I smile, it’s nice to see Jaxon tongue-tied. Normally he is so self-assured.

  “It’s fine,” I say.

  “Alright,” Jaxon finds his confidence again, “this is Evelyn.”

  “Evie,” I say. How did Jaxon learn my full name? I never told him. I turn to Darren and nod. “Nice to meet you.”

  Darren drops to one knee and reaches for my hand. He lays his lips lightly against my hand and in a dramatic voice says, “The pleasure is all mine.” He does it all so smoothly, so casually, it’s like a motion he’s done a thousand times before. I blush and pull my hand out of his as Jaxon smothers a laugh behind us.

  Darren looks nothing like what I expected. His hair is electric blue and sticks out in every direction like dandelion fluff. His silky-black sleeping pants cling to the muscles of his legs; shirtless, but for a half-dozen thin silver chains wrapped around his neck and dripping down his torso. The tattoo’s on his face are less stark than Jaxon’s, covering only the corners of his eyes and tips of his cheekbones – full of soft swirls and spirals rather than hard angles and sharp points.

  “Nice to meet you,” I mutter, averting my eye from his bare chest to the far windows.

  “Where have you disappeared to?” Darren asks Jaxon.

  “I thought a vacation was in order.”

  “Crescent is going insane searching for you. Your father sent Praetors here. They searched my entire apartment,” Darren says, sounding put out.

  “My apologies.”

  “So, Evie, tell me, how did you end up babysitting this kid,” Darren points to Jaxon.

  I think back - it seems like so long ago that we first met, even though it’s only been a few weeks. “I traded a cupcake for him,” I say.

  Darren lets out a whoop of laughter, clasping his arms against his side as he tries to control his breathing. “A cupcake? You’ve got to be joking,” he turns to Jaxon, “always knew you weren’t worth much, but a cupcake?”

  I expect Jaxon to be annoyed, but he just smiles and lets his friend laugh at him. “Alright, enough,” Jaxon crosses the room to an open closet door. He pulls out hangers bloated with clothes, discarding one after another onto the floor. He finally seems to find what he was looking for as he neatly folds an outfit over his arm. “A moment, please.” And in a step that is almost a hurry, Jaxon exits the room. A moment later I hear the slam of a door deeper in the apartment.

  I turn, wide-eyed to Darren, uncomfortable at being left alone with a Millennial. Jaxon is bad enough, but to be trapped in an apartment with two of them, and in a city surrounded by thousands of them. It’s all too much. I back slowly from the room, the intimacy of the bedroom leaving an uncomfortable heaviness in the air.

  Darren follows me out. His arms stretch wildly as he attempts to pull a thin white tank-top over his head. Shoulder blades and elbows jut in every direction and I realize Darren has none of the grace that Jaxon does. None of the strength. But there is an electric feel to him, a charge full of vibrancy and life.

  “Want something to drink?” Darren asks.

  “Uhm, sure.”

  Darren bobs his head and disappears from the room. The tinkling of glass and occasional muttered curse tells me he’s having more difficulty than he should. Before he returns, Jaxon walks out of the door to my left. He’s changed into a pair of dark grey slacks and a yellow shirt that clings to the moisture still on his body. With one hand he towels his hair dry, a look of contentment across his face.

  I glance to Darren, who enters the room with three tall glasses grouped together in his hands. He takes one look at Jaxon and laughs. “You’re vainer than a woman.” Jaxon responds by throwing the wet towel at Darren’s face. Darren deftly dodges the attack, but in the process, liquid goes spilling from the glasses in his hand.

  I watch the two of them and the easy, relaxed friendship they have. The smile on Jaxon’s lips tells me this is a place where he feels at home. A place where he is comfortable. And I can’t help the jealousy that burns in my stomach. I know it’s petty and stupid but we are here to help rescue my sister. Not for Jaxon to take showers and play games with his friend.

  Darren sets the three glasses on the coffee table in front of me. Liquid drips down the side, pooling in a small puddle on the wood. Jaxon drops onto the couch next to me. The weight causes the cushion to sink down between us and I stiffen my body so I don’t slide any closer to him. Jaxon reaches for a small glass tablet that rests on the table. With a swipe of his hand the clear glass turns opaque and lights up
.

  “What is it?”

  I lean closer to Jaxon, until our bodies are only a hairsbreadth apart. He opens his mouth to say something, but then shrugs and angles the tablet so I have a better view. Words run across the tablet in red and black. I can just barely see the faint outline of Jaxon’s fingers through the screen. I reach out, running my fingers across the top, marveling at the simplicity of the device.

  “So,” Darren interrupts and I’m suddenly aware I am pressed up against Jaxon. I shake myself and pull back, trying to fight down the blush I feel growing. “Am I to assume you are here for a reason?”

  “I need you to break into the Loupes-Fee database,” Jaxon says.

  “Cool,” Darren reaches out for the table Jaxon holds. “Might take some time. Haven’t done it in a few years. They’re always updating their protocols. Who we looking for?”

  “Annie Reinhardt,” I say. My sisters name catches in my throat and I have to look away. Jaxon looks at me with something approaching pity. I can’t-- I have to get up. I can’t have him look at me like that. I bolt into the bathroom Jaxon just came out of. Closing the door behind me, I press my head against the cool wood and try to get myself under control.

  My fingers shake slightly. Hope. Fear. I can’t even tell what emotions I’m feeling. The thought that I am so close. The thought that anything could go wrong and bring it all crashing down. I run my fingers through my hair then splash some water on my face. I avoid looking at the mirror - I can imagine what I look like. Brown eyes wide and watery. Pale skin and dark shadows. I haven’t slept enough since Jaxon arrived. How could I? Knowing every moment he was here brought the Praetors closer.

  When I feel like I can face them again I move back into the living room. I sit on the couch, as far away from Jaxon as I can manage. I watch Darren, who is sitting with his legs crossed beneath him on the floor. The computer resting in his lap as he taps away at it, fingers moving so fast I can’t follow them.

  “How long will this take?” I am hesitant to ask.

  Darren doesn’t even notice my question. He is too focused on the screen before him. Instead, Jaxon says, “A couple hours at least. Longer, perhaps.”

  CHAPTER 9

  When I wake up my back is stiff for reasons I can’t remember. A clicking sound invades my consciousness until I open my eyes to see an unfamiliar room. In an instant I remember where I am. Darren’s. The Millennials. I sit straight up and look around frantically. Where is Jaxon? He wouldn’t abandon me here, would he? Would being back among his own kind remind him of what he can never find in the slums?

  Darren hunches over his computer. His fingers clatter across the keyboard and his gaze is intent on the screen in front of him. A graveyard of half empty cups surrounds him. I watch as he pauses his typing for a moment and fiddles with one of the chains around his neck; jerking it downwards over and over like he’s using it to concentrate as his eyes glaze over.

  “Where’s Jaxon?” I ask.

  Darren looks helplessly around the room like he has no idea where he is. Instead of answering my question he grabs one of the cups on the floor and shoves it at me. “Do you want coffee?” Brown liquid sloshes over one side and leaves a wet spot on the carpet. “Oops,” Darren says with an innocent grin. He snags a pillow from the couch near me and uses it to cover the stain.

  “What would your mother say?” I jerk my head around to see Jaxon exiting from Darren’s bedroom. His clothes have twisted around him in his sleep and when he lifts his arms to stretch I catch a glimpse of hip. I look away and sink deep into the couch. “Have you finshed?” Jaxon asks Darren.

  Darren bobs his head up and down comically.

  “Did you sleep?”

  Darren’s head bob turns into a side-to-side motion and Jaxon laughs.

  “Did you--“I pause. I am too afraid to ask. I’m afraid Darren will tell me he can’t find my sister, or he found her but she’s long dead.

  “I found her,” Darren says. Jaxon doesn’t say anything, but he gives me a long, weighing look as if to say are you ready for this? I nod slowly at him and he mirrors my motion. “She’s on a farm called A239. A fruit farm.”

  “Can we get to her?”

  Darren passes over the computer to me. The screen shows a large, diamond-shaped farm. It’s impossible to tell how large it is from the screen, but I get a sense of vastness from it.

  Jaxon sits down next to me and reaches over my arm to tap something out on the screen. “Look,” he says but I have a hard time focusing. All I can feel is the warmth of his body. We’re not touching, but only a heartbeat separates us. A heavy breath and our flesh would meet. I close my eyes and take a moment to focus. This is supposed to be about my sister. I need to stop thinking about the stupid attraction I have that seems to be growing for Jaxon.

  Jaxon drags his finger along the screen until it lands on on a tall fence, at least fifteen feet. “This is the first problem. Electrified fence, motion sensors most likely. The work-prison has about 400 people working on it which means a couple dozen Praetors to contend with…”

  “But can it be done?” I interrupt. I don’t care how hard it will be or what our chances are… I only need to know one thing. “Can we save her?”

  Jaxon shrugs eloquently and stares out the window, lost in thought. When his words come, they come slowly, building to a crescendo that sets my heart pounding with hope. “If we had the right supplies. A few people to help us out...”

  “Can we save her?” I repeat.

  “It is possible,” Jaxon shrugs lightly.

  “Take this it has everything you need,” Darren tosses the small tablet to Jaxon who catches it with ease. Jaxon jumps off the couch and from the floor by the balcony door grabs a large leather bag and pulls it over his shoulder. A smaller one sits next to it; which he picks up and drops on the couch next to me.

  As I reach for the bag, a loud, static buzz causes me to jump. I search the room trying to find what may have caused the sound but I find nothing.

  Jaxon and Darren exchange a look. “No way they caught me,” Darren says, “You told me to be careful so I was careful.”

  “Evie, get up,” Jaxon demands. There is a tightness in his voice that was missing only a moment before. I grab the bag and pull it onto my shoulders; the weight of it sits heavy on my back, but not unbearable.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Praetors,” Jaxon responds.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” Darren answers for Jaxon. “I rigged the entrance; I synched a radio to their comm links,” Darren points to a small device tucked by what must be the front door. “If any Praetors enter the building I’ll know about it.” Darren turns back to Jaxon, “Listen man, I promise, there’s no way they caught me…”

  “Not you,” Jaxon says, “They are looking for me.” The blood drains from his face as he stares at his friend. “Evie, we have to go. Now.”

  “Listen, Jax… I know your Dad’s pissed. Just tell him you’re sorry. What’s he gonna do?”

  “No. No I cannot go back.”

  There is an explanation missing in the gaps between his words. Something he’s been hiding from me. Something he hasn’t told his friend. But instead of asking questions Darren nods like he understands the fear on Jaxon’s face.

  “Over the balcony.”

  “Come with us. It is not safe for you. You know how he has become.”

  “Nah,” Darren waves Jaxon’s plea away. “I’ll stall them. You go. You owe me a drink for this.”

  “Darren,” Jaxon takes a step towards his friend.

  “Go. I got this.” Darren grins a big, goofy grin and I see Jaxon taking it in like he never wants to forget the moment.

  I can hear them now, the Praetors. Their boots move down the hallway outside the front door. I can’t tell how many. Too many for us to handle. Maybe too many for us to run from. Jaxon grabs my elbow and pulls me towards the balcony.

  “You told me they weren’t looking for you.”<
br />
  “I lied,” Jaxon replies deadpan.

  “Hey fellas,” I hear Darren say. I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against his doorway like a whore beckoning a lover. One of the Praetors shoves him aside with barely a glance. Darren doubles over in pain as the breath is knocked out of him.

  “There!” The Praetors point at Jaxon and I.

  “Hurry, hurry,” I whisper to Jaxon. He grabs the h-board from the corner but he’s not moving fast enough. There’s no time.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Darren steps in front of the groups of Praetors and holds his hands out to stop them. “May I offer you a drink?” he tips forward in a feigned bow. “A light snack, perhaps?”

  “Out of the way,” shouts one of the men. He slams his fist against Darren’s face. Darren drops to the floor, howling comically and rolling around. At least two Praetors stumble over him, their path towards us slowed by Darren’s flailing body.

  “Get on!” Jaxon has the h-board hovering at knee height. I step onto it. The board bobs underneath my weight and I feel like I will fall, but Jaxon jumps up behind me and steadies us. He presses his legs against mine, adjusting the position of my feet into a more balanced position.

  The board rises in the air. A soft vibration moves through my feet; the work of the tiny motor keeping us afloat. Jaxon’s chest is pressed against my back but I take the full force of the wind in my face. As we rise over the parapet of the balcony a loud shatter sounds behind us. Bits of glass shoot past us; sharp edges tug against my jacket but the spidersilk is strong enough to prevent any wounds. Above me, Jaxon makes a muffled cry low in his throat. At first I think the glass must have hurt him, but no. No, it has nothing to do with a little pain and everything to do with our approaching deaths.